Spoiled Revenge

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is an instance of truth being stranger than fiction. The following story was written at the request of a reader who presented the basic facts as a true story that had happened in her community. The characters' emotions, thoughts, and words of this story, however, were imagined by me. As always, I hope you enjoy.

*****

There is no mystery as to why I wanted to become a fireman for as long as I can remember. My dad was a fireman. When I was young, I had every fire related toy there was. Besides the usual fire trucks, ambulances and ladder trucks; I had a 'burning village' with cellophane fire in the windows. Over the years, I probably rescued 100,000 people, mostly women and girls. I didn't want any other toys for Christmas or birthdays. The only exception was stuffed toys. I had seven Dalmatians of various sizes. My closet has a succession of fireman gear from size 3-T on up.

My name is Butch Davis. I didn't take on the name 'Butch' until it was passed on to me when my father died. I was twelve at the time. He ran into a burning factory where dozens were trapped. After rescuing over ten workers, he and three more workers had the ceiling collapse on them. We were told that the end was quick, and he didn't suffer much. I hope that was the case. One of the local fire stations is named after him.

There were all kinds of hurtful emotions from losing my father, but the one that surprised me the most was: anger. I was mad at FIRE. I felt that fire had deliberately challenged me to do something about taking my father away. I had nightmares of a flaming, fiery figure laughing at me while I was spraying it with an oversized fire hose. My spraying was always ineffective. I woke up each time determined to get revenge.

All during high school I prepared for my future vocation by studying science, keeping fit, and hanging out at the fire station. My mother implored me to develop other interests, including girls. I gave in and dated a few girls. Nothing serious developed until I found Jennifer. We clicked from the very beginning. Attractive, caring and she loved me. She seemed to like my focused desire to serve the community, and, later, she certainly took advantage of my fit body. After going steady most of the last two years of school, we decided to get married. She had a job as a bookkeeper after having done well in accounting classes in high school. I applied to be a fireman. We had a garage apartment at my mother's house.

I was accepted by the Fire Department and started training almost immediately. Jennifer was proud to see me in my first REAL fireman's suit. At first when I started working regular shifts, Jennifer did not complain. She knew going into our marriage that I would be working weird shifts. We enjoyed ourselves regardless of the time of day my schedule allowed me to be home. In a few years with normal raises and promotions, we could afford to move into a small starter house. More importantly, Jennifer stopped taking the pill. Ten months later, we were blessed with the most beautiful baby girl. We named her Virginia Louise after her two grandmothers. I now had two loves in my life.

Jennifer's outlook on our marriage started changing even more after having our baby. For one, although she had a normal pregnancy, Jennifer declared she didn't want to go through it again. She pressured me to get snipped since being on the pill made it hard for her to keep her ideal weight and condoms reduced her pleasure. We could always adopt if we wanted more kids. My time with Jennifer became more valuable to her because of the amount of time she HAD to spend with our infant daughter. She needed my help with the baby, but she didn't want to give up time with me either.

In addition, I began to hear more and more about her being worried that I would get hurt or killed on the job, leaving her alone to take care of Virginia. I dismissed her concerns. She knew as long as she had known me, I was going to be a fireman. It was up to her to adjust. My disrespect of her concerns was a big mistake on my part.

After a couple of years, I went to be cross trained as an EMT. For two weeks, I was home nights on a regular basis. Jennifer was ecstatic. I got to play every evening with Virginia, and I got to play later every night with Jennifer. Jennifer said often and strongly that 'This is the way it's supposed to be.' She and I both regretted when I went back to regular schedule. It did not seem to matter much to Jennifer that my being in an ambulance as an EMT meant I would be less likely to be in harm's way. She said all first responders were in danger.

When Virginia was old enough for school, Jennifer went back to work. She found out that she had a new boss who had moved here recently. Jennifer said he seemed to be a very nice man who was raising a girl Virginia's age after having lost his wife in a car accident. His move here was based partially in wanting to get away from the town that had too many memories of his wife. Jennifer said he often had a sad look on his face. She expressed sorrow for his situation. I didn't see the red flag.

As time went on, I continued to be absorbed in my job and spending as much spare time with Virginia as possible. I didn't notice that my time and acts of affection with Jennifer diminished during that time. I was going along on the assumption we were a typical family and would be forever. That was my feeling up to and until I received the petition for divorce.

After being served at the fire station, I took sick leave and went home to confront Jennifer. She was finishing up her packing. I was at a loss for words. She had plenty of words.

"You're probably shocked because you haven't had a clue about our marriage for years. My fears about your safety and your willing sacrifice of time with me just didn't mean anything to you. And don't you dare say 'I didn't see this coming.' It has been there for you to see. You just chose not to see.

"Here's the deal. When Arturo became my boss, we bonded. He was suffering from the loss of his wife. I was suffering from loss of time with my husband. We both had daughters the same age that we were basically raising by ourselves. They go to the same school and after school day care. Initially we talked mostly about them. I lamented how little time you had for our daughter and even less for me. And don't you dare equate your time playing with her at night to what I had to do with her the rest of the time.

"Art and I talked to each other. Remember when you and I used to do that? Art and I consoled each other. We cried together. We hugged each other in sympathy. Eventually, we fell in love. Frankly, I was ready to take our love to a physical level way before he was. He kept saying he could not stand to be the reason behind breaking up a marriage. I finally convinced him that I was going to divorce you whether he and I were going to have sex or not. He gave in and we've been intimate for a couple of months now. What it comes down to is: he's who I want now.

"I'm sorry to do this to you, mostly because of Virginia. I know you love her, and she loves you. I will allow you close to unlimited access to her regardless of what the courts decree. The settlement I have offered in the petition is fair: you get the house, I keep my car, you pay child support, I don't get alimony, and we split the assets 50/50. Virginia and I are moving in with Arturo and his daughter, Cloe. The address is on the divorce petition.

"Regardless of what you think, Art is a good man. He and Virginia get along well. Virginia and his daughter already act like sisters. Although he was hesitant to support me divorcing, he is glad things are finally out in the open. He hopes that you and he can be civil to each other."

"Fat chance of that."

"I was hoping you would react better, but I guess emotions are too raw right now. Once you give it some time, I think you will see that this is the best for all of us in the long run, including Virginia."

"And just HOW is it going to be better for her?"

"She will still have you as her father and she will have a father figure who is actually present for the important things in her life. Damn it, Butch, she deserves more than you are able to give her. Can't you see that? I guess not. Let me know when you want to see Virginia. She is already aware of what we're doing. Please understand the strain she is under and try not make it worse on her." Jennifer headed for the door.

"You pull a divorce petition out of your ass and tell me not to put stress on her? Of all the . . ."

"Good-bye, Butch." Jennifer left.

I called a divorce lawyer asking how I could 'burn the bitch.' I was told that what she was offering was probably the best I could expect. I could pay him to delay the divorce, but the final terms were not likely to get any better. Only the wallets of the two lawyers would get the benefit. I signed the damn papers.

Our marriage went out with a whimper, not a bang. I started a relationship with Kentucky bourbon until my chief told me it was either booze or my job, not both. I quit drinking. What I didn't quit was hurting or plotting revenge. I just couldn't think of any way of exacting some vengence without directly or indirectly harming my daughter.

Virginia, however, was hurting me more and more every time I saw her. She was reluctant to go anywhere with me unless her new 'sister,' Cloe, could go too. When I heard her call Arturo, 'Daddy,' it broke the pieces of my heart that had not already been shattered. The first time she broke a date with me because of an important 'family' event did it for me. I could not bring myself to schedule another visit. Jennifer had a few choice words for me 'abandoning' my child. I had a few choice words for Jennifer and asshole ruining my life.

I tried focusing on my job. The job I was born for. The job I always wanted. The job that cost me my family. Actually, I can't really blame the job as much as how I allowed myself to be consumed by it. I willingly admit my fault there. For all my devotion to my duty, to be honest, most of my job was boring. Usually I drove the ambulance. On a few occasions, they had me work as a fireman, but 90% of the time I was an EMT.

Most of our ambulance runs were either to pick up dead or dying people. Too many runs were just because the person was so large or physically handicapped that they didn't have any other means of medical transportation. Occasionally, we got to do CPR on a person who would have died sooner without us. Usually they died in the next few days. Then there were the dehydrated people who got a saline solution. We rarely got called to where there was a fire and even more rarely treated people for scrapes, cuts and/or smoke inhalation. Like I said: boring, that is until . . .

The alarm rang and I ran to the ambulance. As I got on the road, I recognized the address as Virginia's after school day care. Shit! My daughter would be there at this time. I floored it. I sideswiped a couple of cars who just had to try and make it through the intersection before the ambulance. "Sue me assholes!" I weaved through traffic and went on two wheels around the final corner. The sight I saw shook me to my core. Flames were coming out of several windows of the daycare building.

I parked the ambulance and ran over to a group of kids and a teacher I knew. "Where's Virginia?"

"She and some others are still inside. Please help them."

She didn't even finish her sentence before I was on the move. I ran through the open door not sure of what I would face. Flames flashed around the door frame and I got singed. I'm not sure how I broke down the door to the classroom, but I did. There was teacher on the floor. I told her to have the kids crawl out the door. She and the kids had started out when I heard, "Daddy! Daddy! Help me!" It was Virginia. A bookshelf had fallen on her. I raised it up like it was made of paper, grabbed her and pulled her out. I put her under my arm and ran while kneeling towards the door, trying to keep from breathing the smoke. When we got to the front door, the teacher and the other kids were still there. The flames around the door were preventing them from leaving. Remembering what I had seen when I entered, I knew I just had to get them out the door. They were too scared of the flames to try to get out. There was not time to convince them to just quickly run through it. I threw the teacher through first and then I started throwing kids through the door, hoping the teacher or someone was there to get them further away from the building. Virginia and I were last, and my butt was on fire, literally.

Once outside, put my butt out and breathed fresh air; I felt great. This is what I had trained for. This is what I had practiced with my toys as a child. This was . . .

Virginia interrupted my self-congratulations. "Daddy, Cloe's still in there!"

"Oh, please dear Lord, let her be wrong." I looked at the teacher who surveyed the rescued children.

She looked at me with intense fear and shouted, "She went to the restroom before the fire broke out."

I immediately prayed, "Dad, here I come. Either help me through this or have a place ready for me. If I die, I'll be there for supper." Before I could move forward, my chief grabbed me.

"Damn it Butch, I ORDER you not to go back in there. You'll just get yourself killed. Do you hear me?"

I slumped down as if obeying him in resignation of the facts. Then I spun and sucker punched the chief. He went down. I put on his fire coat, helmet and oxygen. I ran for the door which now was fully engulfed. My legs and feet were covered only with regular pants and shoes. As a result, my left leg and foot was burned entering the building. I could tell I was burned from the pain and the sickening smell of burning flesh. Before long I realized I was not getting oxygen. The plastic tubes from the mask to the oxygen container had melted. I took off the mask and it felt like I was breathing in flames.

I jogged my memory for the location of the bathroom. Somehow, I ignored the flames and opened the door to the bathroom and closed it back immediately. The bathroom gave me a brief respite. Cloe was lying on the floor unconscious but breathing. I took one of the bathroom towels and dumped it in the commode getting it as wet as possible. Wrapping Cloe, especially her head, in the towel, I put her under my right arm and tried to channel Walter Payton breaking tackles to score a touchdown. The flames acted as the waiting linebackers. Using my left arm to stiff-arm the falling, hot debris, I shouted, "Fuck you, FIRE. This one belongs to me!" Somehow, and I really don't know how, I made it out before I collapsed.

***

I was dreaming. My face was a slab of fat sizzling on a frying pan and I couldn't lift it off. I was startled awake.

"Doctor, he's awake!" The voice was familiar. I opened my eyes. It was my ex-wife Jennifer. Medical personnel came running.

A nurse asked, "Mr. Davis. Can you hear me?"

I motioned for the nurse to come closer. I whispered as loudly as possible, "Get that bitch out of here or I will sue you for a million dollars!"

That was not what the nurse expected to hear, but a crying Jennifer was escorted out. I left orders that I didn't want to see anyone except my fire crew. I wanted to see Virginia, but I didn't want her to see me. Not in the shape I was in then. I was curiously happy for two main reasons: They told me Cloe was alive, and I had a morphine pump.

For months I went through a variety of operations and skin graphs. My left leg was amputated, and my left arm and left side of my face severely burned. I could have gotten a job with The Walking Dead and not had to have makeup. The only visitors were firemen who told me how much better I looked now. Smart-asses. I love them all. The city insurance paid all my medical and rehabilitation bills. I was given awards for bravery. But the best award I got was from Virginia and Cloe. They awarded me "Daddy of the Year." I plan to keep the certificate they created and colored for the rest of my life.

The rest of my life. What the hell was that going to be now? I couldn't be a fireman anymore. Too much damage with an amputated left leg and less than fully functional left arm. I was given a job with the EOC as a part-time dispatcher to help supplement my disability payments. That pleased me.

I managed to keep Jennifer and Arturo away from me. I rejected all efforts verbal and written for them to contact me. Fuck them and their thanks and apologies. I didn't do it for them. They managed, however, to get some surprising information to me indirectly. One of the visiting firemen informed me, "Man, you're not going to believe this. The bastard that stole your wife and whose daughter you rescued just joined up to be a fireman."

You could have told me that all the news media had become Trump supporters and I would have believed that before I would what I just heard. I had to ask for more info.

"Yeah, he says that there is no way he could repay you for saving his daughter, but he could pay the department and the community back for the loss of a fireman. He says he knows he can never be as good a fireman as you, but he will try his damn best. Don't worry, Butch. We have been giving him a ton of shit because of what he did to you. He won't be able to . . . "

"No. Leave him alone. Actually, I want you to help him."

"Man, have you been giving yourself too much morphine? He stole your wife and daughter."

I smiled and said, "Think about it. My wife left me for him partially because I was a fireman and he wasn't. This is rich. I can't think of a better revenge on her. She can't escape being a hypocrite. I love it."

"I also have my revenge on Arturo. He has to live the rest of his life knowing the man he stole his wife from saved his precious daughter. I think I am the happiest crippled man on earth." I smiled so hard it hurt the burned part of my face. I pumped in more morphine rather than stop from grinning. With my spirits now lifted, I figured I was ready to see people, or rather, let them see me.

I asked to see Arturo first which I hope pissed off my ex greatly. It just kept getting better for me. Art came in bawling like a baby. "Butch, I owe you so much. I will do anything for you if it's in my power. Just ask me. You have refused to let me help pay your bills. I didn't know what to do. I just had to do something. My guilt at falling in love with your wife and then there's my gratitude for saving you saving my Cloe, both were in my thoughts at all times, day and night. That's when I got the idea to become a fireman. If I can't pay you back, I can pay something back to the community for their loss."

He appeared completely sincere while he continued to cry. Then he gathered himself.

"Please let me bring in Cloe. She is dying to thank you." I agreed.

Cloe came in the doorway, but then she wouldn't budge any further without Virginia. They both ran to my bed and were pleased to see their 'Best Dad' certificate proudly displayed. After they looked at me, Cloe said, "You look scary." Virginia agreed. I laughed while Arturo chided them.

I said, "You are absolutely right girls. You see, I once was a handsome prince and then one day a mean, old witch named Jennifer kissed me and turned me into an ogre."

Virginia said, "DAdddy. That's silly."

We had a great visit. I swear Virginia had grown during the time I was in the hospital. I knew then I didn't want to miss any more of my daughter's upbringing. Art returned several times with the girls, but we also got to know each other better. Damn it if I didn't start to really like the guy. It helped that he never asked me if I would agree to talk to Jennifer. It was rare for him to mention her at all.