Josh's Arc

Chapter 2 of 2

The morning after the market fire, Josh found Hank Stanley's house. Hank had shown him how a hundred hands could beat a blaze one man could not. Now Josh needed Hank for good. He knocked and waited. The retired fire marshal opened the door in a plain shirt, no jacket, no yellow stripes. His eyes were tired. "You again," Hank said. He did not sound angry. He sounded like a man who wanted to be left alone. Josh stepped inside. A black couch filled one wall, deep and soft. Hank dropped onto it and folded his hands. "Sit or don't. I already know why you're here." Josh stayed standing. "Three people are alive because of you. This town has no firemen. You could teach me. You could lead." Hank shook his head slowly. "I led men for thirty years. I buried four of them. I'm done leading anyone anywhere." He patted the cushion beside him. "I sit here now. That's the job I want." Josh's chest went tight. He had no money to offer. No badge. No station. "I can't pay you. I can't promise it's safe. I only have the work." "Then you have nothing I need," Hank said. He looked away, at the wall. Josh saw it then. Hank was not afraid of fire. He was afraid of losing men again. Words would not move him. So Josh stopped asking. "You said tomorrow the crowd goes back to their lives," Josh said. "You're right. I can't hold them with speeches." He walked to the door. "So I'll go find people who stay. One at a time. I'll build it with or without you. And when it burns again, I won't stand in the street alone." Hank turned back. Something in his face shifted. "You'd walk into the next one green, with no team." "I walked into the last one that way," Josh said. "I'd rather have you. But I'm not begging a man who's already quit." For a long moment Hank said nothing. He rubbed his mustache. Then he stood off the couch, slow, like the motion cost him. "I won't join," he said. "I won't wear the stripes again." Josh's hope dropped. "But I'll train them," Hank went on. "Whoever you drag in. I'll teach them lines, water, doors. I stay out of the fire. You lead. You bury them if it goes wrong, not me." It was less than Josh wanted. It was more than nothing. He put out his hand. Hank shook it, hard. "Then I need recruits," Josh said. "You'll have nobody to train until I find them." Hank sat back down on the couch and almost smiled. "Better start knocking on doors, son. This town's full of people who run from smoke." Josh left with a trainer and no men to train. The brotherhood had its teacher. Now it needed its first true member.