{W} Challenge 1 – Character

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{W}rite of Passage Writing Challenge, Week 1 – Find a person in public today and study their character. Make a story surrounding them. Build them in to your shorty essay.

Since I am not in public today, I’ll be using a character I saw a while back walking up the street. And also, a fire truck I saw on the same street just moments later.

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Fire

Fire lit the night sky as he stood watching, the clock on his wrist ticking away the seconds. He knew with certainty the house was all but gone. “At least I got the cat out safely,” he thought as he heard the sirens begin to draw near. He hoped they could save enough of his home that he wouldn’t be without his treasured photographs, the ones his mother had sent before she passed away.

The cat shivered in the chilly air and he hugged her tightly, gently stroking her soft golden fur. Sparkles had been his mothers cat, another of her gifts to him before her untimely death the previous winter. He wondered if she had known her time was near. He tried to shake the unpleasant thoughts from his head as the fire truck roared up the street, stopping just short of where he was still clutching poor Miss Sparkles. He wrapped the blanket around them a little tighter and whispered to the cat.

A whirlwind of activity erupted as the firefighters jumped from the truck, pulling hoses and shouting to one another. Miss Sparkles tried to free herself from his grasp but he clung to her and talked softly trying to calm her. She began to purr and finally sensing things were going to be alright, she settled down and went to sleep, with him still standing there in the street.

The smoke was thick and the wind started to blow it towards him. An ambulance had arrived as had another firetruck and some police cars. Someone approached him and began to speak, but his mind was so numb and jumbled with thoughts that he couldn’t concentrate on who was talking or what they were saying. So he just stood there and stroked Miss Sparkles, staring blankly.

The officer took his arm, steering him away from the smoke and to an ambulance where the medics were readying a gurney. He took the seat they offered him and shivered in the cool night air. Miss Sparkles began to stir, poking her head out from the blanket and he talked softly to her. She shivered too.

A medic took his temperature, asked him routine questions, checked his pusle, his blood pressure. He was fine, just somewhat dazed. And cold. Someone offered him another blanket, wrapping it carefully around his shoulders so as not to disturb Miss Sparkles. It was rare that she would allow him to hold her that long. She sensed that he needed her comfort.

Just then, Marla, one of his neighbors walked up and sat down beside him. She knew he’d need some support and her mind was racing but she sat quietly, rubbing his back. The officer was asking him questions and he tried his best to answer but it all just seemed so unreal – first his wife, then his mother and now his house.

“What am I going to do?” he thought. Tears began to well up in his eyes and a lump formed in his throat.

Sensing his emotion, Marla said to the officer, “Perhaps this can continue at another time. He’s pretty shaken up. I think the shock is beginning to hit him.” She told the officer and the medics that she was his neighbor and it would take him into her house until morning and until the fire was put out. The medic asked if he wanted to go into the hospital just to be sure and he shook his head, beginning to sob.

Marla put her arm around his shoulders, but he seemed rooted the spot on the gurney. She tugged at him and tried to reassure him that he would be alright. It didn’t help. He still just sat, still stroking the cat who was purring again, and sobbing.

“What am I going to do?” he finally said aloud. “What am going to do?” He sat rocking back and forth as minutes passed and the firecrew tried desparately to douse the flames. Though they were now under control, the fire still burned. Marla didn’t answer, she just sat and rubbed his back, partly not knowing what to say and partly knowing that whatever she said would somehow sound out of place.

“I have to check the photographs. I have to get the pictures out. Where are Mother’s pictures?” And suddenly, he sprang up, still cradling the cat in his arms and began to walk quickly towards his house.

Marla stopped him. “No, we must go inside my house where George has made coffee, where it’s warm and you and Miss Sparkles can get the chill off before you catch cold.”

He was unaware now that it was cold, unaware now that he was shivering. The only thing he could think of was those pictures. Pictures of Pop and Granny. Pictures of Jason. Pictures of his beloved Andrea. And of Mom and of Father. And Nick. Pictures of the islands he and Andrea took on their honeymoon.

“Oh Andrea!” he cried. And he fell to his knees in a heap on the street. Poor Miss Sparkles dug her claws into his skin as he cried, not knowing whether she should stay put or leap out of his grasp. “Oh Miss Sparkles! What are we going to do?” He asked the cat through his sobbing. She mewed quietly in answer and licked his cheek.

“Marla, perhaps you should convince Paul to go to the hospital after all. I’ll take Miss Sparkles,” said George as he came up to them, having rushed out of the house upong seeing Paul collapse to the ground. “Maybe he needs more than just a cup of hot coffee.”

Two medics came and helped Paul up off the cold, wet ground, leading him to the waiting ambulance. He was sobbing uncontrollably now and had let go of Miss Sparkles so George could take her. Marla stood closely still just in case Paul needed her reassurance. He knew that she was there and he felt comforted, though he continued to cry.

It was late now but with all the raucus on the street, many of the neighbors were up and watching silently from their windows or huddling around outside. Someone brought a carrier for Miss Sparkles and some food and water. Another neighbor brought out a thermos of hot coffee and handed a cup to Paul. George put Miss Sparkles inside the carrier along with the food and water and set her down on the grass so she could see Paul inside the ambulance.

He began to calm as he watched the firefighters as they doused the remaining flames. “I really do not want to go to the hospital,” he said to no one in particular. “Maybe this cup of coffee will do some good. I just feel so cold.”

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Be blessed,

Come join the challenge! It’s open to anyone who wants to give it a try. Check it out at {W}rite of Passage.

Annie Anderson is a freelance copywriter and graphic designer specializing in the small business and real estate markets. Her tagline “Making your business, my business” means that she’ll take the utmost care when creating words and images for your business – just as if it were her own.