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The couple ahead of me place their order at the counter. They must be in love. She leans into him. He kisses the top of her head. One of his hands rests lightly on the belt of her jeans. They get a five-scoop sundae to share, with everything on it.
Suddenly, I don’t want ice cream anymore. As I step away from the line of happy people my phone vibrates in my pocket. It’s probably ringing as well but I can’t hear it because of the shrieks and shouts from the helter-skelter.
I don’t bother to check caller ID before answering. I’m expecting it to be Lydia. When it’s Cam’s voice on the line, I’m conflicted. Part of me is delighted that he’s called and part of me wants to hang up straight away. But I don’t. I find a quieter place so I can hear what he has to say.
“A favor, huh?” I say cautiously.
He says he’s only asking me because he can’t think of anyone else.
These words ring in my ears. For some reason, I feel a bit insulted by them. As I process my reaction to the insult, I miss a couple of things he’s telling me. I want to say something like, “Are you saying that I am last on your list? Why aren’t I first on your list? Are you telling me that you would rather have anyone else help out? Anyone except me?” But I don’t say that. I listen as Cam explains about the volunteer situation for the fire department demo. I take a minute before I say anything.
“Alright.” I sigh audibly. “What do you want me to do?”
At the tower, I see Tony, who greets me warmly. He asks me if I’m scared of heights. I tell him no, but then thinking about it, I’m not sure. I’m even less sure when I begin to climb up the ladder on the inside of the pretend castle. What did I agree to exactly? I’m not a hundred percent clear about what I’m supposed to be doing. Tony told me to wave down to him when I reach the top of the tower and to pretend to be scared. Climbing up the final stage of the ladder, I’m surrounded by cut-out battlements, and it’s way higher than I thought it would be. Tony waves up to me and lights the fire which catches quickly. Smoke billows up on all sides. Alarmed, I look up to see the firetruck screaming in from the other side of the pasture, lights flashing, sirens blaring, and suddenly I’m not pretending to be scared. I am actually terrified.
The crowd on the grassy bank cheers and shouts but the smoke masks my view for a minute. I cover my nose and mouth with the sleeve of my sweatshirt and look down the side of the painted castle. I wish I hadn’t looked down because a whoosh of vertigo makes me feel as if I’m falling. I grip the plywood battlement. Then I see the firetruck park close by, and soon a ladder hits the theatrical wall making it wobble. A moment later, a large person wearing a full protective fire suit reaches the top of the ladder and climbs over. Like a spaceman, the person lifts the visor of his helmet. I am so grateful and relieved to see it’s Cam, I just grab him and hang on.
“Molly,” he says, hugging me. “Are you okay?”
I can’t speak, but nod. He is so calm and in charge. I tell him I want to climb down the ladder myself, but my legs are all wobbly and I don’t think I can.
“Trust me,” Cam says looking deep into my eyes. And I do. I trust everything about him. He’s strong and courageous and capable. And then, whoop, he slings me over his shoulder as if I’m nothing more than a rolled-up rug, telling me it’s better if I’m unconscious. Well, for more than a minute, I believe I am.
Then, when we reach the ground, the wonderful, solid earth, that is not the end of my ‘rescue’. Cam lays me out on the stretcher and covers me with an emergency blanket as if I’m close to death. He checks my pulse, performs pretend CPR, and then, oh golly, simulates mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.
At this point, I have my suspicions that Cam is improvising. That, perhaps, he has gone just a tad off-script and he’s enjoying himself just a bit too much at my expense. But the crowd responds with a massive cheer. I get giggly and I can’t stop. Maybe it’s a delayed reaction to the shock of being in a pretend burning tower. Eventually, Cam helps me up and I join the firefighters in the cab of the firetruck. It zooms away to rapturous applause from an excited crowd.
In the cab, I’m trying to be serious but failing. I catch Cam looking my way. He smiles his devastating, twinkly-eyed smile right back at me. And I melt to mush.
“That went well,” says Charlie.
I forget to be mad, shake my head, and look out of the window.
When the firetruck stops at the fair’s main entrance, the crew disembarks and congratulates each other on a job well done. Rachel locks up the cab and walks away with Tony and Charlie. Cam and I watch them go.
“Thanks again, Molly, for being an excellent damsel in distress,” Cam says when we’re alone.
“You’re welcome. It was actually quite fun when I stopped being scared. It was pretty intense, you know, with the fire and smoke and everything.” I laugh, then look at the ground. “Thanks for rescuing me.”
“You’re welcome. All in a day’s work, ma’am.” He salutes then leans against the firetruck and folds his arms. He smiles at me, head on one side, eyes twinkling.
There’s so much I want to say. But I am distracted by the twinkling. My insides have melted and my brain is mush. I open my mouth to speak but no words come out.
“Can I buy you an ice cream?” Cam asks. “I’m still on call for a while, but maybe we could share a sundae with everything on it and hope a real emergency doesn’t happen.”
At Sweet Dreams, Cam and I stand at the counter side by side. I can’t stop smiling. But then, I could still be in shock and experiencing symptoms of delayed delirium. I’m smiling so much my cheeks ache as we take our ice cream to a picnic bench under some trees. Cam sets down the plateful, piled high, drizzled with berry and chocolate sauce. He hands me a spoon and I scoop up a mouthful of sticky, cold, creamy gooeyness. It’s delicious and I instantly get a sugar rush.
“It’s a good thing I was wearing jeans today. It might have been a bit embarrassing otherwise.”
“And a different kind of show for the crowd,” Cam says loading up his spoon. “You were amazing, Molly. I mean it.”
“I was freaking out.”
“Yes. But you weren’t at the rehearsals. You didn’t know what was going to happen. I thought you handled it really well.” He pauses a moment. “Apart from all the giggling when I was trying to resuscitate you. You were supposed to be unconscious.” Cam smiles at me.
“Well, it was quite distracting, you know. It’s hard to be a corpse when someone is trying to kiss you.”
“I wasn’t trying to kiss you,” Cam says laughing. “Mouth to mouth is part of first response medical training. It’s in the manual.”
