Prompt: SMOKE

Cops are not usually seen as dreamers. But after twenty years of sharing nightmares with strangers, I finished my career with one unlived dream. As a cop, I always wanted to make a difference. I wanted what I do to matter. A hero, if you will.

I don’t know if other cops have similar dreams, but mine goes something like this:

 I arrive on scene and a house is fully engulfed. The flames dancing across the night lighting up the sky as if it was the safety of daylight. There is a beautiful woman with long flowing hair standing outside. The glow of the fire highlights her silhouette like an elegant portrait.  As I get out of my patrol car, she screams “MY BABY IS STILL INSIDE. I run into the flames, fighting the smoke and intense heat. I find the baby and run out of the house straight into the news cameras as the house explodes behind me. I hand over the baby to the grateful mother to the cheers of the gathering crowd. I quietly and humbly disappear into the night. But that is Hollywood and real police work is not

On this particular night, I had a trainee with me. We were close to the address when the call kicked out and subsequently we were first on scene. The firemen were probably still in the safety of their bunks at the station.  Smoke could be seen billowing out of the house.  Springing into action, we began beating on the door but to no avail. The neighbor was certain the homeowner was there. My trainee, a self-proclaimed Judo expert, destroys the door with a single kick.

We run into the unknown smoke-filled darkness. We make our way through the house. Screaming YOUR HOUSE IS ON FIRE! YOUR HOUSE IS ON FIRE!  There is no response. Other deputies arrive and start searching rooms. They find him in bed, unresponsive. They start to drag him outside to begin heroic lifesaving measures, but he begins to stir from his deep deep sleep. Like a mighty ninja in his ripped and tattered tighty whities, he starts fighting with deputies. As he awakens, he realizes we are here to save his ass, not kick it. He runs out of the house to safety.  I start to follow, but I see a cage. It’s A small cage with a rodent of regular size dancing around in a panic. With no regard for my safety, I grab the cage and run out of the house and hand the cage off to the homeowner. No cameras, no explosions, no cheering crowds. The firefighters are now on scene. With the wrinkle marks still on their faces from their pillows, they walk out of the house, past the splintered door frame, with a saucepan full of smoking beans.  “Here’s your fire boys.”

The homeowner went from scared and grateful to embarrassed and pissed off. He turns to us and screams “YOU DESTROYED MY FRONT DOOR OVER A POT OF BEANS!? WH0’S GONNA PAY FOR MY DOOR!”

I use this a training moment. A good cop knows when to make an elusive exit. In silence, we drive off into the night.  Feeling a little numb and a little dumb, I say to my trainee,” I thought we were going to save a life tonight.” 

“We saved a hamsters life.” He says.

We don’t get medals for that, so I guess it doesn’t really matter.

“Well, it mattered to the hamster…”