Fireproof (11 page)

“Which one is that? Left or right?”

“Left, okay. You never pick the obvious choice.”

Caleb opened his left hand and showed that it was empty.

“It was in the right hand?” Terrell whined. “Aww, man, I
knew
that.”

Caleb revealed that his other hand was empty as well.

“He gotcha.”Wayne pointed a finger. “Terrell, you think you're so slick.”

The others joined in the laughter.

Caleb walked over to Terrell, dropped the coin in his lap, and said, “Well, you can't figure out everything. But the cake's on me.”

Terrell's frown didn't keep him from going to collect his consolation prize. “You know,” he said, “everything can be explained. Gimme time, and I'll figure out how you did it.”

Wayne reached into his own pocket for a coin. “I got a magic trick.”

“Man,”Terrell said, “any trick
you
do can be figured out in five seconds.”

“You don't think I can stump you?”

“Ain't nothing you can do,Wayne, that would impress me.”

“Nothing?”

The black man put the lid back over the cake.“Here. You make this cake disappear, then I'll be impressed.”

Simmons got up from the table, motioning as though shoveling food into his mouth. “Give him three minutes and we know he could make it disappear.”

“You got that right, Lieutenant,” said Terrell.

“All right,”Wayne said. “Give me the cake dish.”

“No, no, no. Stand over there and do it. I ain't lettin' you touch it.”

“You can't do that, man. I gotta have room to work.”

“If you can't work from there, you ain't the real deal.” Terrell's left hand remained on the cake dish, while his right lifted a slice to his own mouth.

“Terrell,” Caleb urged, “I say let him try.”

“Sure, Cap'n, but I ain't giving him the cake. He's always brag-gin' about what he can do, and how well he can do it. I been trying for years to be impressed with Wayne, and I'm just sayin' . . . It's been a long wait.”

As Terrell spoke, Lieutenant Simmons slipped behind him unseen, from the other entry into the kitchen, and motioned to Caleb.

Caleb took his cue.“Wayne,” he said, punching the driver in the arm, “Terrell's right. The only thing you can do better than him is dance.”

Terrell almost choked on his bite of cake. “Excuse me?”

Caleb turned on the stereo.

The light came on in Wayne's eyes as he noticed Simmons still in hiding. Realizing his opportunity, he jumped in with both feet—quite literally. “That's right,” he taunted. “That's what I been talkin' about. Everyone here knows I can lay it down better than you, Terrell.”

“Give us all a sample,” Caleb said.

Wayne started dancing to the music as Terrell stared in disgusted disbelief. The rookie was laughing, and Caleb couldn't conceal his own wide grin.

“Are you kiddin'me?”Terrell waved a hand, shooing away this disgrace to people of rhythm everywhere. “There's no way you could be serious. He moves like a drunk hippopotamus.”

The hippopotamus continued, unfettered.

Eric and Caleb egged him on.

Terrell let go of the cake lid, still unaware of Simmons just behind him. He stepped toward the center of the room, ready to throw it down. “Look, man. You gotta
flow
with the music, like this.” He started dancing. “It's gotta be smooth,Wayne, and
soulful
. You can't just lumber around like that.”

Wayne's gyrations came to a slow halt as he turned his attention to the suave movements of his fellow fireman.

Caleb gave Simmons a slight nod. The lieutenant gently lifted the cake lid and removed the entire dessert. He retreated back the way he'd come, disappearing from view.

“Wayne, I hate to break it to you,”Caleb said.“But it looks like Terrell's got you beat. The man can dance.”

“
Thank
you.” Terrell's face made clear his disdain of the competition.

“But Terrell, I still think Wayne can make that cake disappear.”

“I know I can,”Wayne said. “Stand back and watch some
real
talent.”

Caleb joined his driver in the center of the room.“Do it,Wayne. Do it. C'mon, just like I taught you.”

“Are you serious?” Terrell was confused. He took a step back, blocking the counter with his wide body, and returning his hand to the lid to guard the object in question. “Show me whatchu got, big guy.”

“I've been holdin' back on you, man. But it's time,”Wayne said with a flourish of his hands and a wild-eyed look, “for the master to work. Hold the music, please.”

Eric turned off the stereo. Wayne stared toward the counter, putting his face through a variety of facial contortions that were more slapstick than mysterious. Terrell watched him as if he had gone certifiably crazy.

“That's it,” Caleb said. “Pull it all out,Wayne. You got it. Make it happen.”

Wayne pointed, waved his hand once more in a final dramatic gesture, then dropped both arms as if worn out by this exhibition.

“Good job, man! You did it.” Caleb gave his driver a high five.

”Very nice,” Eric agreed, clapping. “I'm impressed.”

Terrell sneered and gave the three of them a vacant stare. “Do y'all think I'm stupid? If I check to see if it's gone, you'll just laugh at me for even lookin'.”

“No,” Caleb said. “That cake is gone.”

“Very funny.”

“Think what you want, Terrell. If you don't believe, you can't see it. C'mon, guys,” Caleb said to the others. “Let's get back to work.” He strolled out with Wayne and Eric on his heels. He slapped Wayne on the back. “Way to go, man.”

Terrell was still shaking his head.

Just through the door, Caleb paused. He glanced back and saw Terrell venturing a peek beneath the cake lid.

“No,” Terrell gasped.“No way.”He checked along the counter, in the cupboard, searching everywhere for the missing baked goods.

Caleb and the others tried to control their snickers from the shadows in the other room, but Terrell caught them as he stomped by.

“Wayne?” he said. “Where is it?”

“I can't tell you, man. You're not a believer.”

“Tell me,Wayne. I mean it. Where'd it go?”

While the two faced off, Caleb gestured to Simmons, who was hidden around the corner. The lieutenant snuck back through the other doorway and returned the cake to its position beneath the lid.

“It ain't funny,Wayne. Where is it?”

“You want me to bring it back?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Okay.”Wayne rolled his hand and bowed. “After you.”

Terrell led the march back into the other room. As he reached for the lid, Wayne gave it a hard stare and snapped his fingers once.

“Done.”

“You,” Terrell said, “are a fool.”He lifted the lid and was stunned to find the cake staring up at him. “What? How'd you do that?”

“A magician never reveals his tricks.”

“That's right. You just have to believe.” Caleb led his driver away again, leaving Terrell alone with the cake and a head full of questions.

“Wayne!” Terrell yelled.

Wayne kept walking.

CHAPTER 16

C
aleb sat at his bedside, his back against the wall, reading the next entry in
The Love Dare
. His shift was over, and he was back at the house. The clock read 8:20 a.m., and he could hear the shower running in the master bedroom. Catherine had always cared about looking good for work, but this morning she was really pushing her schedule to its limit.

The best thing to do? Ignore her mood and just get through this.

Day 2

It is difficult to demonstrate love when you feel little to no motivation. But love in its truest sense is not based on feelings, but a determination to show thoughtful actions, even when there seems to be no reward.

In addition to saying nothing negative to your spouse today, do at least one unexpected gesture as an act of kindness.

Caleb looked up into the early morning daylight and sighed. An act of kindness? What good would that do? As part of his job, he already protected lives and led men into life-threatening situations. What could one little gesture on the home front accomplish?

Well, best to get this over with.

He padded into the kitchen and filled the carafe. He was at least capable of making her morning brew. He poured water into the coffeemaker. Added a filter. Ground the beans and scooped them in. Pressed the button.

Easy enough.

A few minutes later, he heard Catherine rumbling around in the bedroom. He spread a cloth place mat on the counter, set out the sugar bowl and spoon. He poured rich, dark liquid into her favorite red mug and positioned it in the mat's center. Turned it slightly, to make the handle more accessible.

Hey, this might even earn him a smile. That'd be a change.

Catherine came tripping into the dining room, adjusting the strap on a high-heeled shoe. Since when had she worn that pair? They were the tallest ones she owned, normally reserved for special occasions. She'd even told him they made her feet hurt if she had to wear them all day.

He opened a cupboard and tried to downplay his kind gesture. “Oh,” he said, pointing, “I, uh, poured your coffee.”

She snatched up her purse and keys. “I don't have time for coffee.”

And off she went.

Caleb put his hands on his hips. What? He'd done all that to brighten her day, maybe earn a little goodwill—and she didn't have
time
for coffee? She
always
had time for coffee. It was her morning ritual.

He heard her car start up and pull out of the garage.

He thought of drinking the sludge himself.

No, he needed to get some rest after his long shift. Instead, he grabbed the cup and dumped it into the sink. He yanked the plug on the coffeemaker. Still irritated, he took the carafe in hand and poured the entire steaming contents down the drain.

THAT NIGHT, CALEB brushed his teeth in preparation for bed. He had his father's book in hand as he faced the sink, his way of making plans for tomorrow. He'd enjoyed the day off. Surfed the Internet. Checked his savings account, and calculated his chances of getting a boat before next summer.

A boat? A personal toy?

The words in
The Love Dare
didn't come as a ringing endorsement of that plan. Quite the opposite. He could almost hear John's voice of reprimand.

Day 3

Whatever you put your time, energy, and money into will become more important to you. It's hard to care for something you are not investing in.

Along with refraining from any negative comments, buy your wife something that says you were thinking of her today.

Do
what
?

Caleb stopped brushing. He felt the toothpaste dribbling from the corner of his mouth, yet he was frozen by the audacity of tomorrow's assignment. He could hardly even read the rest of the entry. He was supposed to invest in her? That made her sound like some kind of project.

Really, this was starting to get sappy. And didn't women always complain that men objectified them?

Of course, they were usually referring to men's obsession with their physical attributes and the way that they—

Well, anyway, that wasn't the point. Caleb knew how to invest money, and he was more than capable of maintaining the equipment at the station. This sounded like a similar concept, putting his energy and resources into those things he truly cared about.

Or those people. Whatever.

He spit out his toothpaste and slammed the book shut.

MR. CAMPBELL WAS surprised to see an incoming call from Caleb Holt's cell phone. Months had passed since he'd last heard from his daughter's husband, not that he let that worry him. Young people these days had a lot on their plates, and Mr. Campbell had no intention of becoming one of those nosy, puttering retirees.

“Hello, Caleb,” he said into the phone.

“Good evening, Captain Campbell.”

“How's my favorite son-in-law?”

“Your only son-in-law.”

He chuckled. “Keeps things simple that way. So, are you ready for another fishing trip up the North Flint River? My rod and reel are getting rusty.”

“Uh, that'd be a lotta fun, I'm sure.” Caleb cleared his throat. “I just, uh . . .Well, I'd have to schedule some leave days, and then coordinate it with Catherine's schedule. I'm not sure how that would work right now.”

“Say the word and we'll figure a way.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

“Is everything all right, Caleb? Is there something I can help you with?”

“Everything's fine. Fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, uh, I just wanted to get some advice.”

“Now, how long are you gonna milk this?”Mr. Campbell gibed. “You pull me from a fire one time, and now you think you can pick my brain any ol' time you like?”

Caleb's voice warmed at their worn joke. “I warned you, sir—you've gotta teach me everything you know.”

“Sorry about that. I'm retired now.”

“Oh, and I'm the one milking it?”

Mr. Campbell smiled through the phone. He didn't mind retirement, but he missed his days in the line of duty. Some people thought his early departure had been a result of that close call in the late-night grocery store bonfire, but that wasn't it at all. Even now, at sixty-five, he still had the courage to face choking smoke, skin-puckering heat, or the carnage of a road accident.

It was his body that wasn't cooperating, particularly a weak hip that'd started threatening his capabilities on the job. More important, however, was his relationship with Joy. She had suffered through many sleepless nights, and the emotional wear and tear of his work had started to affect her physical well-being.