the time i ran towards a burning building
aka one of the wildest mornings of my life
9:32am
The orange door swung out, creaking on its hinges. The straps on my rarely worn heels dug into my ankles as I strode towards the counter.
The baristas gasped. “Wow, you look so nice this morning!!” One of them stepped around the counter to survey my dark green jumpsuit, tan heels, and bright red lipstick. “I didn’t think your place opened for a bit.”
I coyly stuck my hands in my pocket. “Yeah, I have a press conference over at the Silos. It’s just down the street.”
The other barista put my order in so I could tap my phone to pay. “Iced Sara Jane with oat milk?”
I nodded emphatically. Working next door to a coffee shop has its perks, including the baristas knowing your regular order.
“We can get that started for you.” The second barista’s wolf cut swished around her face as she turned to pull the shots.
I took a deep breath. “I actually have a surprise,” I said, grinning ear to ear.
They both stopped to turn to look at me. “What?”
I pulled my left hand out of my pocket to flash a sparkly emerald. “I got engaged yesterday!”
The ensuing gasps and oohs and ahhs were exactly what I wanted to hear. They immediately crowded around to take a closer look at my Princess Diana inspired round emerald ring.
“Oh my god, wait, let me finish your drink,” one of the girls said, popping back behind the counter.
“Dude, you’ve been crazy busy this week, huh,” the other shook her head. “Engagement, and now grown up journalism stuff, and your job.”
“I know,” I sighed happily. “It’s gonna be really crazy the next couple months.” I took my coffee. “I’m gonna take some pictures really quickly before I go, is that okay? I never look this nice.”
One of the girls jumped from around the corner. “I’ll take your photo!! It’s been really slow this morning, and you look good, miss girl!”
I consented, posing in front of the moss wall.
What a perfect start to my weekend.
Or so I thought.
10:08am
Screwing up my face against the mid-morning rays, I stared up at the freshly painted mural, trying to not panic. The iced latte I had sucked down before this wasn’t doing my anxiety any favors.
I had never been to a press conference before. I showed up extra early in an effort to stop my thundering heart, but it seemed to just pick up the pace as more and more reporters arrived. There were about eight in total, but I didn’t expect the camera crew to have the WFAA logo emblazoned on the large television camera. I didn’t recognize the anchor, my mind wandering to the only name from that channel I did know. Pete Delkus. Weather guy. On my college’s board of trustees. Maybe. Or was he?
I snapped back to the present. More reporters with notebooks and pencils in hand arrived. One girl in particular caught my eye: she was wearing high heels, a periwinkle blue dress, and looked extremely professional. She looked about my age (early twenties) and had dark hair. She looked kinda like the chick from the movie Maze Runner. I felt a bit self-conscious; my towering height didn’t allow for much heel wearing, unless I wanted to pass for a WNBA player.
I shook hands with a couple people, introducing myself. Sarah Maidenname, Local Magazine. I tried desperately to hide how nervous I was; I was determined to not let the lack of a journalism degree hurt me. I watched the other reporters as they shuffled into a line, so I did the same.
I checked my phone. Ten past ten. They were late, and my shift started at eleven. Conveniently, my job was around the corner at a handmade body and bath shop on the Square. I hadn’t bothered to tell my bosses about the press conference, as I figured it wouldn’t run into my time at the soap shop, but now I was worried I’d be late. And I was never late. I fiddled with my ring, the sensation being so brand new it was almost distracting.
The quiet voices of the conversing reporters ceased, breaking me out of my reverie. A forty-somethings guy in paint covered pants walked up, closely followed by a suited Millennial dude and a thirty-something year old woman in a primly pressed pencil skirt.
I pulled out my notes app with my questions, trying to ignore the warm breeze and ever climbing Texas sun. I remember the guy being sorta interesting. The mural artist Jerry, originally from Australia, seemed relaxed as he patiently took questions from our group. Unfortunately, he didn’t ever speak in complete sentences and kept his answers extremely brief. Not good for my article. I tried to not worry about it as I typed his answers as faithfully as I could. Should have brought a notepad and pencil like a proper reporter. Next time. If there is a next time.
“Mr. Jerry will take a few more questions now,” said the skirted lady after a pause. Jerry did seem eager to get back to work: his mural covered the entire silo, which loomed above us covered in painted outlines of people.
A couple people stepped up to talk to Jerry, but the girl I noticed earlier walked up to the skirted woman. Guess she’s important. I sidled up to their conversation, flipping my wrist to check my watch again. 10:24.
The blue dress girl started peppering her with questions, all of which were really good. I scribbled down an outline of what the lady was saying: the City wanted something to match the aesthetic of the town, the city council wanted it to be seen from the new City Hall, and Jerry was kind enough to come all the way from Minnesota for weeks on end to paint.
I waited for the longest pause and cleared my throat. “Um, excuse me, I’m so sorry,” I squeaked out. “What is your name?”
The official looking lady smiled and put out a hand. “Oh, terribly sorry. I’m Kerry Flanders, co-assistant City Manager.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Wow. That’s a neat job, especially in McKinney.”
She let out a surprised laugh. “I am always busy, for sure!” Code: My job really stresses me out!
“McKinney has really exploded over the past several years,” I noted. I noticed the other girl looking at me, but she was smiling and didn’t seem put out that I had butted into their conversation at all. I relaxed my shoulders.
”For sure! We are planning the new City Hall, and this art installation is part of that.”
I perked up. “Where is the new City Hall supposed to go?”
She pointed at the large field dotted with stone remains across the street. “Over there! You should look up what it’s supposed to look like, it’s very exciting.”
I nodded, surveying the land. I lived with my parents down the road and knew how badly McKinney needed a City Hall. Even freakin’ Fairview had one, but McKinney had their offices scattered all over Historic Downtown. Not conducive to getting anything done in the rapidly growing suburb named as one of the best places to move in the United States.
The other girl started a new line of questioning, but suddenly I heard the artist call out to us. “Hey, you guys are news reporters, right?”
We all looked at him, confused. “Yeah?” someone said.
Jerry jerked his chin over our heads. “Look behind you.”
We all turned.
Billows of black smoke curled into the sky, floating above Downtown to the north.
My blood ran cold. My mind flashed to the night before. Did I blow out the candle last night? Did I even work yesterday?? Who worked yesterday???
As if on cue, everyone pulled out their phones and started taking photos. I strained my ears, trying to listen for sirens, but there were none. Isn’t there a fire station right there?? Where are they??? I turned to look at the other reporters, who seemed slightly alarmed. I realized that WFAA’s van was gone. Bummer.
I swiveled back in the direction of the brunette in the periwinkle dress. “Wanna go over there?”
She was already pulling out her car keys. “Lemme get my camera.” She hustled to her car.
I checked the time again. 10:35. I still have time. Oh, God, please don’t let it be the soap gallery, Please, please, please, please…
She ran back up. “Wanna drive?”
I shook my head. “Those are one way streets, and the station is right there.” I pointed to the right, down Highway Five. “We should probably walk it.”
”How far?” Her eyebrows knit together.
”Couple blocks. It looks like it’s on the Square.”
She squared her shoulders. “Wanna run?”
I glanced up at the smoke, which was getting thicker and darker by the second. “Not really, but I would hate to get in the way of the responders in a car. Will probably get closer on foot.”
She took a deep breath, glancing down at her nude heels. “All right. Let’s go.”
I put out a hand. “Hold on, this intersection is really busy.” I glanced up at the lights. “Now.”
The first part of our sprint took place over rocky, unfinished sidewalks and weaved between telephone poles and construction cones. It was getting hotter by the minute as the sun beat down on our backs.
The light turned red, and I hurriedly glanced left and right. “Go!”
Crossing McDonald Street was tricky business: the pedestrian path wasn’t clearly marked and there weren’t any buttons to push to let you cross. Timing (and prayer) was key. We reached the much nicer white sidewalk of Virginia Street, passing the comedy club, arcade bar, and a random women’s boutique.
My companion paused in front of the antique mall. “Hold on,” she heaved. “Gotta…take my shoes off…”
I stopped short, gasping for air. My feet, unused to heels, were also killing me, but I wasn’t going to take them off until the very last second. I craned my neck to observe the smoke, which changed from dark gray to a sickly yellow white. To my relief, I realized it wasn’t White Rock Soap Gallery. “I wonder what building it is,” I said aloud.
”No idea,” said the girl. “We better keep going.”
We broke into a faster run as the terrain was much smoother.
”By…the way,” I gasped for air. Running was never my strong suit. “I’m Sarah.”
The girl glanced over her shoulder, not pausing her pace, but smiling wide. “Amelia.” I couldn’t help but wheeze out a laugh when she reached over while running to shake my hand.
We crossed the street, passing the old jewelry store and the yummy brunch place. I had been hoping to go there before my shift, but I knew that wasn’t gonna happen anymore. I was cutting it close.
Finally, we could see a fire engine blocking traffic down the street we were sprinting down. People were lined up against the buildings opposite, looking concerned. I threw a look down Kentucky Street as we crossed. The soap gallery, windows dark and sign off, stood untouched. Thank you, Jesus. No forgotten candles. Phew.
We halted in front of the burger place. Amelia dropped her shoes onto the sidewalk and whipped out her camera.
Firefighters milled about, the smoke turning lighter and lighter.
I finally caught my breath, trying to ignore my throbbing feet. “Are…are we allowed to be this close?”
Amelia shrugged. “As long as we’re not in the way. Have you ever done this before?”
I shook my head. “I’ve never done a press conference before, much less the scene of an emergency.”
Amelia adjusted her camera settings, fiddling with the knob. “You’ve had a lot of firsts today, huh?”
I smiled ruefully, holding up my camera to take my own photos of the firefighters, who were snaking a hose through the front door of the place. “And I got engaged yesterday. Really crazy couple of days.”
Amelia snapped her head up. “Oh my gosh, really? You have had a couple crazy days.”
I flashed my left hand in her direction. “I’ll tell you about it after,” I promised.
We watched as the firefighters broke down the front door of the restaurant, yelling into the place to see if anyone was inside. Please, let the place be empty and nobody hurt! I silently prayed.
The firefighters suddenly headed down the sidewalk towards us, making us scurry across the street. There were passerby lining the sidewalk, mostly employees from other shops and tourists who didn’t realize that most of the Square closed on Mondays.
Amelia approached one of them. “Excuse me, but can anyone tell me what happened?”
Another lady I recognized as a boutique employee piped up. “Some kind of fire behind Risotto. Grease or something.”
I sucked in a breath. Risotto was a favorite restaurant for my regular customers. “Do you know if the art gallery is okay?” I asked, trying to remember the other tenants in the same building as the beloved restaurant.
The lady shook her head. “No, but if the fire damaged Risotto, then I doubt Tina’s studio came out without damage.”
I winced sympathetically. Tina was a sweet artist who sat in her front window and painted. Passerby could watch over her shoulder if they pleased. I enjoyed walking by on my breaks to watch her too.
”Thanks,” Amelia turned around, addressing me. “Let’s see what’s on the other side of the truck.”
10:43
I parroted Amelia’s every move. She quickly explained that she had been on scene for ongoing emergencies before. She seemed to know where to go to get decent photos without getting in the way of the response team. Amelia even recognized a firefighter officer, who gave Amelia an impromptu interview.
“Can we see the back?” Amelia asked.
“Sure, follow me. You ladies stay close,” he motioned towards the truck. “We’re finishing up but you can take a peek. The fire nearly got the propane tank back there - the whole block would have gone up.”
My eyes popped out of my skull. Sure fire way of cancelling my work day. Thank God.
“Imagine if this had happened on a Monday?” I commented to Amelia. My mind flickered back to the Oktoberfest crowds. More than fifty thousand people visited yearly and all the streets were blocked off. The fire occurring on the slowest day of the week on a hot summer day when many people were home instead of walking around? Things could have gone much worse.
Before Amelia could reply, the officer spoke up. “Seriously, no one was hurt, and we got here very quickly. The building is over a hundred years old.” He cocked a thick eyebrow in my direction. “Ever hear about the fire on Virginia and Louisiana?”
I visualized the street corner in my head. “The record store side or the Irish pub?” I asked.
“The pub. Many years ago, the top of that building caught fire and they didn’t put it out in time. City decided to build a fire station right next to Downtown to prevent that from happening again. These old buildings are mostly matchsticks and if one goes up…” He waved a hand to include the entire row of buildings in front of us. “It would spread really quickly. Thankfully, we got here in plenty of time, and there were no casualties.”
I listened intently. “I didn’t know about that fire, but there’s a lot of history on this Square.”
“But you’re right though,” the chief nodded. “Thankfully there weren’t a lot of people around.”
We halted about thirty feet from the restaurant’s back door. Or at least, what used to be a back door.
I swallowed hard. I originally thought the fire was just in the front of the building, but seeing the charred remains of the kitchen made me realize that there was nothing left but ashes. The restaurant was totally gone, and there was definitely damage to the neighbors.
Audrey snapped more photos, chatting with her officer acquaintance as I silently contemplated the scene. This could have been my job, I thought solemnly. All these people are out of a job now. Maybe they can rebuild, that will take months and months.
I jolted. The time. I flipped my wrist over. “Amelia, I gotta make a call.”
10:59
”That’s perfectly fine. Is everyone okay?”
”I think so.” I looked over at Amelia. “It doesn’t sound like anyone was at the restaurant. Which is weird, because it sounded like a grease fire.”
“Huh. Well, you can definitely open late. Thanks for letting me know, Sarah.”
”Of course.” I watched a firefighter wrap the last of the hose and put it on the truck. “So sorry I didn’t say anything earlier. It’s been a crazy morning.”
“Sure sounds like it. Let me know when you open the store.”
“Thank you so much.” I hung up and let out a huge breath of relief. “My boss was very chill about me being late.”
Amelia nodded. “That’s good. Man,” She began waving her hand in her face. “Are you thirsty?”
I pointed down the way we had run earlier. “We have bottled water at the soap gallery,” I offered. ”Then we can head back to our cars.”
I flipped the sign to OPEN and unlocked the door. Normally I would prop the door open, but it was supposed to be in the low 90s by that afternoon.
I felt much more normal in my soft work shirt and jeans than in the Calvin Klein jumpsuit and heels. I changed as soon as I got back to the gallery. Walking back to our cars proved to be harder than running towards the building. My feet were raw and I was sweating buckets by the time I turned the air conditioning on in my car to drive up the street.
Amelia and I chatted the whole two blocks back, exchanging numbers in the parking lot and promising to get lunch soon. I thanked her for letting me tag along. “You better tell your editor you were there and you have photos,” Audrey reminded me. “We’ll talk soon, okay?”
The door to the candle store swung open and I slid off of my stool, jolted out of contemplation. A tall woman I immediately recognized poked her head in. “Hey, did you hear about the fire?”
I nodded emphatically to Lina, the gal who owned the coffee shop next door. Her curly dark hair was tied up into a cap. “Were you here earlier?” I inquired.
Lina shook her head. “No, the girls were texting me about it - they could see the smoke from the shop. What happened?”
I explained the press conference and how I ran to the scene with Amelia. “A press conference and the breaking news beat in one day,” I blew out a breath. “I thought I left a candle in the front and burned down the block.” I chuckled humorlessly.
Lina shook her head. “What did they say happened?”
I shrugged. “Passersby thought it was a grease fire. Which doesn’t make sense, as like, everything is closed on Mondays. Except for us, of course.”
Lina laughed. “Yeah, no kidding.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “It could have been on purpose, though.”
I choked on the water I was attempting to drink. “Wh-...arson?” I whispered loudly. “Lina, you can’t be serious.”
Lina nodded. “Rumor has it the guy who owns it has a wife who is bat crazy. It’s all a rumor though.” She fiddled with a lip balm on the counter. “Coulda been a homeless person who left a cigarette back there. Who knows.”
I shrugged. “There’s no telling. I couldn’t tell by just looking back there.”
Lina put the lip balm down and picked up a lavender bath bomb. “You saw back there? What was it like?”
I closed my eyes in a slow blink. “Smokey. The restaurant is definitely toast. Literally.” I couldn’t help but smile wryly at my ill-timed pun. “Here, I have photos.”
Lina scrolled sideways through my iPhone, her lips pursed. “That’s horrible. Risotto is really popular.”
“Do you think they’ll rebuild?” I took my phone back, flipping it over so I could see the Doors of Durin themed phone case. My phone cases have been Lord of the Rings themed since I was in middle school.
“I highly doubt it. They have a second location down in Dallas, so they’re not completely screwed.” Lina put the bath bomb back on the display. “I gotta get next door, but I’ll let you know if I hear anything else.”
I nodded. “I’m gonna call my editor and see if he’ll publish this article too.”
“He better.” Lina waved as she walked out of the store, her footsteps creaking on the antique wood flooring. “See you later, girlie.”
Present Day
I flipped my phone over to read the notification. Add Amelia as a friend?
I groaned. No matter how many times I asked it to, Snapchat found ways to send my notifications for everything.
I opened the app and frowned. I hadn’t realized I didn’t have Amelia on Snapchat.
Guilt gnawed at my stomach. I hadn’t talked to her in a while - she had moved publication houses and was an editor at a successful Dallas magazine. I got married and moved out east, and I hadn’t seen her in a while. We got brunch a couple times our fateful morning chasing a fire and she attended my wedding, but besides an occasional text, I hadn’t reached out much.
I swiped to add her as a friend, sending a silly photo of me sitting on the couch.
Hey girl, how are you?
Good, how are you?
Pretty good. Been busy with work. Didn’t know anyone used Snapchat that was over 23.
I’m using it to talk to a boy.
I winced, laughing as I typed. Oh noooooo, Amelia. Say it isn’t so.
Unfortunately, yes. Why are you on here?
Trying to find old photos. Hey, btw, did I tell you I started a Substack?
You did? How is that going?
Really good actually. I wanna write for other publications though.
What do you wanna write?
I sighed aloud, eliciting a pointed look from my tabby cat Sophie. Idk. I’d love to write for another Dallas magazine like Paper City or something.
Several minutes went by before I got a response. I’ll put my feelers out and see what I can do.
I smiled at the screen. I really appreciate it!
Sure thing! Anything for my fire chasing buddy.
My eyebrows shot up. I hadn’t thought about that morning in a while. Omg, I forgot about that. That was a wild day. I tapped the side of my phone for a second, thinking back. When was that?
I scrolled through my phone, eventually finding what I was looking for. August 15, 2022. I scrolled up a little more, surprised to find my engagement photos.
I texted Amelia again. Dude. I forgot I had gotten engaged literally the day before.
What?! You’re kidding. That’s crazy.
Nope. It was crazy. That was a long weekend!
I stared off in the distance, only moving to scratch my furry friend behind her ears.
I suddenly started, startling Sophie out of her half-lidded feline stupor. “Sorry,” I apologized, rubbing her on the head. “Your mom had a funny idea.”
What if…I told that story on Substack?
Thank you for reading! While I kept most of the locations the same, I did change names in the story. Thanks to “Amelia” for reminding me about our little escapade. If you want to read my stories like this, or read my other writing, please subscribe and share with your friends.
Loved this short story, excellent pacing and good details!