When Ashes Fall

ALIX

PRESENT DAY

“NINE-ONE-ONE, WHAT’S YOUR EMERGENCY?” I said into the headset as I stared at the computer screen.

While I waited for a response, I sucked in a deep breath and rested my fingers on the keyboard, my thumb gently tapping the space bar but not hard enough to actually press it down. My body tensed. The tips of my toes ground into the bottom of my shoes.

It was a ritual.

One I repeated every time I answered a call.

“I’m at the Public Garden,” the woman said. “And a man just fell off one of the benches. He’s on the ground, screaming. You can probably hear him in the background. It looks like he hurt his arm or something.”

Once I processed her description, my chest loosened.

The air I’d been holding in slowly made its way through my lips.

The tapping stopped.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Why do you need that?”

“It’s for our records and also so I know what to call you.”

“I’m not comfortable with giving you my last name, but my first name is Rachel.”

“Rachel,” I repeated as I typed it into the system, “do you know the man’s name?”

“I don’t know him. I was just walking by with my boyfriend, and I saw it happen.”

“Are you able to get close to him and ask if he’s okay?”

“Look, I’m just calling out of courtesy. I don’t have time to go over and assess the man.”

Before I could respond, Rachel disconnected the call.

So, I finished typing up my notes and dispatched the emergency response team to the Public Garden. Before they even left the firehouse, they’d know the man could be suffering from a broken arm, shoulder, or even head trauma and that no other symptoms had been reported.

Once I finished all the coding, I logged off and removed the headset. Then, I took out my bag from the bottom drawer and reached inside for my cell. I found Rose’s last text and started typing.

Me: I’m not going to make it. I’m exhausted.

Rose: If you don’t show up, I’m going to walk to your townhouse and drag your ass out. It’s your choice.

Me: I’m leaving work right now. See you in 15.

Rose: I got us a table outside, right in front. You can’t miss me.

I put the phone back in my bag and stood from the desk, making my way through the call center. This was where most of the emergency and non-emergency calls were answered for each district of Boston. Where we worked eight-hour shifts and handled over a thousand calls a day.

I wondered if I’d have the same ritual tomorrow.

Or if I’d have a different one.

Or maybe I wouldn’t have one at all.

That thought was interrupted when I heard, “Alix,” as I walked by Marla’s office.

I stopped reluctantly and turned around, backtracking until I was in her doorway. “Hey,” I said, watching her smile as she got up from her chair.

Marla was an officer and had been supervising this department for the six years I’d been employed by the city. I’d met her while I was in the EMT recruit academy when I was first hired.

She wrapped her arms around my shoulders and hugged me. “I hope today went all right.”

I closed my eyes and made sure she didn’t hear me sigh.

This was what I hadn’t wanted.

Along with the extra-big smiles from my coworkers when I had walked into the call center earlier today.

And the card that had been slipped into my desk, which I’d opened before my shift.

And the invitation to lunch I had declined.

It was all really unnecessary.

And way too much.

I squeezed her back because it was the right thing to do and said, “Yes, today went fine.” Then, I immediately pulled away.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Of course.”

I wondered if tomorrow would feel different.

I thought about that as I made my way through the police headquarters.

This building was so busy with employees, many of whom I’d met. Maybe even close to all of them. If they saw me, they’d want me to stop walking. They’d want to talk.

Some might even want to hug me.

To avoid any type of contact, I took out my phone and held it to my ear, pretending to be in a serious conversation. At the same time, I stayed to the left side of each room I passed through and kept my face down.

That was everything I could do to go unnoticed.

I was flooded with relief when I made it out the front of the building without having to say a word and continued my trek to Ruggles station, hurrying into the train before the door shut.

Two stops.

That was how far it was to Back Bay station.

During the ride, I looped my arm around the metal pole and scrolled through one of my apps. I was only able to read a handful of status updates before Back Bay station was announced from the speakers.

Once I made my way outside, I went down Dartmouth Street until I reached the restaurant. Rose was right in front, just like she had said in her text. She was at a small, round table that had two glasses of red wine and a charcuterie board on top of it.

“Hiii ,” she said as I got closer and embraced me the second I reached her.

I didn’t mind.

That was part of the reason I was here.

I even hugged her back as hard as I could.

Rose and I had been assigned as roommates our freshman year at Northeastern. I was a shy girl from southern Maine, who made the honor roll with ease and wanted to work in health care. I was also extremely inexperienced in partying. Rose was from South Boston. She came to college with a master’s degree in drinking and could throw up the next morning without even smudging her lipstick.

We were complete opposites.

And, although we had both changed so much over the years, we were still closer than ever.

“Hi,” I whispered back.

She was holding me so tightly; it was hard to breathe.

“Thanks for not canceling.”

“Well, I tried,” I admitted.

“You know, if you really didn’t want to come tonight, I wouldn’t have forced you.”

“I know.”

I moved to the other side of the table and sat across from her. Once I slung my bag over the corner of the chair, I lifted the wine glass, clicked it against hers, and took a sip.

Pinot noir.

She knew what I needed.

“To moments,” she said as I swallowed.

Rose believed in celebrating them.

Always.

And, according to her, today was one.

“To moments,” I repeated.