A Time for Love

 

The smoke was too thick to be able to see clearly, but Officer Anne O'Malley fought her way through it. She might not be able to see, but she could hear. Somewhere in that smoke- filled warehouse, a baby was trapped. She could hear its feeble crying. She'd seen weirder things in her five years on the force but none more pitiful.

She kept her body close to the damp cement floor and listened, trying not to cough and splutter so much that she couldn't hear the baby. She'd tied her partner's wet handkerchief over her nose and mouth to act as a filter for the black smoke but it wasn't much help.

If she could see something besides the light reflected back to her from her flashlight beam!

The warehouse floor looked empty. Not even a rat in sight. Yet still she heard the baby. The cries were becoming weaker.

She coughed, tried to clear her throat, and squinted her eyes against the terrible smoke.

If only it were an older child so that she could call to it and get a better fix. She could reassure the child and explain that she was trying to find him or her. She had plenty of experience with older children in trouble. But a baby-

Then she saw a shape in the middle of the floor. The street light shining through the rotted wood that was supposed to cover the window, acted like a halo on the fragile carrier.

Anne crawled on her hands and knees, trying to stay away from the worst of the heat and smoke. The baby in the carrier was silent and unmoving in the flashlight beam.

Please, she prayed silently, please let it be alive.

Tears streaming from her eyes, nearly blinded by the smoke, she reached the infant carrier's side. She could see that the blanket was sooty with the heavy smoke. The baby was wearing a frilly little dress and had a bow in her curly dark hair.

A little girl. Anne coughed convulsively and put down the flashlight. She put her hand to the baby's chest and was relieved to feel the little body still moving.

At her touch, the baby cried fitfully and flayed her little arms uselessly against the smoke that was rapidly filling her lungs. Anne tried to quiet her, although she reasoned, it was probably a good thing that she was crying. It would keep her little lungs clear.

She picked up the baby with the dirty blanket and unzipped her heavy jacket, tucking the child inside, next to her heart. There was a note pinned to the top of the carrier and she took it as well. It might give some clue to the baby's identity.

Little pieces of fiery wood had begun to fall from the high ceiling to the floor. They illuminated the place eerily, and made Anne's efforts to escape the warehouse even more dangerous. If one of those pieces fell on her, she could be knocked unconscious or even have her clothing ignite.

"Don't go into a burning building!" she remembered her police academy trainer saying again and again. "That's why we have the fire department. Let them handle the fires."

She hadn't wanted to run into a burning building. But when she and her partner had arrived on the scene, the fire hadn't been reported. That meant it would be at least ten minutes until the fire truck arrived and that would be without a traffic tie-up.

She'd heard the baby when she'd opened the warehouse door. She and Tom had looked at one another.

"The trucks will be here in a few minutes," he'd assured her. "Let's not panic."

Anne had looked at the angry red fire already sparking through the upper story windows and the roof. It burned like the sun against the evening sky.

"That baby doesn't have a few minutes," she'd told her partner. "I'm going in."

"Annie-" he'd begun then held his peace. He'd been her partner for too long not to know that she was headstrong and sometimes a little prone to take action when he thought it might be better to wait.

She was a good cop, he considered, taking her baton and giving her his handkerchief after he'd dampened it in some rain water from the drain spout.

"Be careful," he warned. "Cap will kill me if anything stupid happens to you."

Annie smiled and tied the handkerchief across her nose and mouth. Her father, Mike O'Malley, was a captain in another squad. If he'd seen her about to enter a burning building without a fire fighter, he would have knocked her silly.

The baby was squirming fitfully inside her zipped jacket. The handkerchief was dry on her face. It was harder to see in the warehouse, even though she was barely above floor level. She kept looking for the light from the open doorway but she couldn't find it.

"Don't panic," she whispered to herself. "Keep going. You're headed in the right direction."

Too many times she'd heard stories about how people panicked in fires and got turned around. She had to keep going the way she thought she'd come into the building.

Her chest hurt from the smoke and the effort to breathe through it. It was getting hot in the building even next to the cold floor. She didn't want to look up, knowing the roof could be about to collapse. As it was, her back itched with the fear that a burning chunk of the warehouse was about to hit her.

She kept going, glad to feel that the baby was still moving and making small, pitiful noises. She was protected a little from the smoke and heat in her jacket. Hopefully, there wasn't much damage done to her lungs from the smoke.

Who could have done such a stupid thing? she wondered, trying to keep her mind occupied with anything but the fire while she crawled to what she hoped was safety.

The way the baby girl had been put in the carrier, dressed up and with a note attached, smacked of abandonment.

But surely the fire was an accident. The mother or father may have left her there but hadn't known that there would be a fire. The warehouse had been abandoned for years.

She coughed, trying to find a small space of breathable air but there didn't seem to be any left. She ripped the handkerchief from her face and wheezed in some soot, coughing and shaking with the effort to keep going.

Surely she should have reached that stupid door by then, she decided angrily, turning on her back to rest for just a moment. She reached a hand into her jacket to comfort the baby who was making tiny mewling sounds.

Her skin was so soft, and a little downy, like velvet. She was very thin. Not like her sister's baby who was chubby cheeked and had legs like a linebacker.

Anne sighed, finding it easier to breathe with her back against the cold floor. The baby was quiet as well, and she thought that it was probably better to wait there for a few minutes. Help would be coming.

Sparks flew around them and small fire devils leaped from rotted timber to old debris igniting everything they touched. They looked like stars or comets streaking across the night sky that was the collapsing warehouse roof.

She had to get out of there, she reminded herself, trying to pull herself out of her oxygen deprived stupor.

She turned over and started to crawl again, but her knees buckled under her and her last thought was for the baby she carried against her chest, cradling the small body with her arms.

That was how fire fighter Tony Rousso found her a few minutes later. Breathing clean air behind a mask, covered with protective gear, he stooped to lift her from her fetal position on the floor.

He couldn't believe it when his company had arrived on the scene of the warehouse fire and found that an officer had already entered the building.

Was she a moron? he wondered, kicking in what little remained of the wooden door at the entrance. Or did she just have a death wish?

Her partner had told them that she'd heard a baby inside and had gone in to investigate. She should have been back out by then. Unless she was in trouble.

Tony wasn't sure if he admired her partner's position at the door doing his duty or if he wondered at the man's lack of courage for not risking it to find out what had happened to his partner. It was one thing to do your duty. Loyalty was something of even greater worth.

He wouldn't have wanted to think that his partner would have thought the regulations were so important that he would have let him die.

Tony lifted the woman easily in his arms, not bothering to position her in the fireman's cradle. She'd been going in the right direction and had been only a few yards from the door.

How many times had he found someone trapped in a burning building just a few feet from safety? How many nightmares had plagued him where he'd seen their faces? It was part of his job, just like the good rescues.

The woman moved when he lifted her; a good sign. Something else moved inside her jacket, making small noises that didn't identify it as human. It could have been a dog or a cat for all he could tell. The officer had managed to rescue whatever it was, despite breaking the rules. He had to admire her for that courage.

He ran out the door with her in his arms, held tightly against his chest. The fire demons raced across what was left of the roof. As he reached the clean night air, the ceiling collapsed to the basement of the warehouse.

Tony laid the officer on a blanket on the ground and called for oxygen. The paramedics hadn't arrived yet. He was on his own while his comrades fought the fire that raged a few hundred feet from them.

He improvised, giving the officer oxygen from his own breathing gear. Another abandonment of the regulations. It seemed to be the night for it. She was unconscious and filthy with smoke, but she looked vaguely familiar. She'd lost her cap somewhere inside the building. She was lucky to be alive.

He unzipped her jacket and the squirming thing within it came to life, crying loudly and reaching her arms out to him.

The baby was covered in black soot. Her little dress was torn and filthy. But she was alive, and if her crying was any indication, she was going to be all right.

He borrowed an oxygen mask from another fire fighter and used it on the baby the best he could. She didn't want to be covered with the huge mask and fought him with her tiny arms and legs to keep it away from her.

The little girl would have died without the officer's intervention, he realized, hoping they both recovered. They would never have been able to reach her in time to save her from the ceiling collapse.

What had she been doing in there? he wondered, trying to keep the masks on both of his patients. There were no homes near the warehouse. Only miles of the worst commercial property, most of it abandoned like the warehouse.

Even if someone had chosen to abandon the baby, he couldn't believe they didn't mean her to be found and given a new home. There was no way for anyone to have known about the fire.

The officer started to cough and moved uneasily on the coarse blanket, opening her eyes and staring up at him with a mixture of relief and surprise.

"The baby," she said quickly, putting her hand to her jacket.

"She's okay," Tony reassured her. "Paramedics are on the way."

Flashing lights and blaring sirens followed his pronouncement. The noise from the fire roared across the shouts of the fire fighters trying to stop it from spreading.

"I know you," the officer said in a rasping voice, her throat irritated with smoke and heat. "You're Rousso, aren't you?"

He looked at her more closely. The matted hair was copper bright beneath the soot from the fire. Her eyes were startlingly blue and her mouth-

"O'Malley," he recalled. "I thought I recognized you."

Annie frowned. She didn't know how happy he would be to recognize her. They saw each other from time to time but didn't usually speak. He'd asked her out once while she'd been dating Sean. She'd turned him down. Maybe a little nastily. She'd been having trouble with Sean that day.

"That was a stupid thing you did running in there without gear or oxygen."

"I know," she admitted, glancing down at her soot streaked uniform. "I did what I thought was right."

She struggled to sit up while the paramedics attended the baby on the other side of her. Tony watched her, then grabbed her arm and helped her up.

"Don't worry, I'm not writing you up for it. But you owe me," he responded, crouching down close beside her.

"Oh?" she asked, wondering if he knew that she and Sean weren't together anymore.

Was he going to ask her out again? Word traveled through the departments. Especially if someone was interested.

"The next time you want to run into a burning building, don't do it. You came this close to being in there when that roof collapsed."

"Oh." So much for that, she thought, feeling foolish. Just because he'd asked her out once didn't mean it would ever happen again. He was probably married anyway.

"But you did get the baby out," he relented, seeing the disappointment on her black-streaked face. "And she seems to be all right."

"I'd like to know what she was doing in there," Annie rapidly changed the subject. "If she was abandoned, it was a stupid place to do it."

Tony shrugged. "Mother or father could have put her in there, then set the fire."

"That's horrible!"

"I'm sure you've heard worse, coming from a police family."

She glanced up at him. "That doesn't make it okay."

"I didn't say it did," he shot back. "We'll know later if the fire was set or not."

"Officer," the paramedic nearest her, called to her. "Do you need help?"

"I'm fine," she answered, despite a headache and a raw throat.

"She was out cold for a full ten minutes," Tony replied, interrupting with a shake of his dark head. "Sorry, O'Malley. We've both broken enough rules for one night."

"I'm fine," she reiterated with a grimace. "I don't need to go with them."

"You need some oxygen," he answered firmly. "I imagine your throat is pretty sore."

"A little," she answered honestly. "But not enough to ride down to the hospital and fill out the paperwork on an injury."

"You can hold the baby," the paramedic told her. He smiled at Rousso. "That always gets 'em."

"So, you're going to the hospital?" Tom asked awkwardly. He watched the gathering crowd with one eye while he spoke with his partner. "Need a ride home?"

"I'll grab a taxi," she said. "Thanks, Tom. See you tomorrow."

She stood up, swaying a little when she reached her feet. Rousso put a quick hand under her arm to steady her.

"Okay, okay," she agreed, her body making his argument for him. "I'm going in with them."

"Hey!" Rousso walked with her to the ambulance behind the paramedic carrying the baby. "You're a hero! You saved a baby! You can't buy press like that."

She slanted her eyes at him. "Or a report like that! The captain is going to have my head."

Tony laughed. "I heard you had connections there. Isn't Mike O'Malley your father?"

"Yes," she said through clenched teeth. "And he's going to have my head, too."

"Get cleaned up," he advised, helping her into the back of the ambulance. "Let them treat your throat and give you some oxygen. You'll feel better."

"Thanks," she began, looking back at him as she took a seat on the side of the vehicle and the paramedics closed the doors.

He waved, then turned away. She watched him put on his mask again and join the others still fighting the fire. The ambulance started its siren and pulled away. The orange light from the burning building became smaller and smaller against the night sky.

She'd wanted to thank Rousso for saving her life. It might be months before she saw him again. They had to be called to the same place, on the same shift.

Maybe she could write him a note or send him a card, she considered, watching as the paramedic fought with the baby to give her oxygen.

"She's not burned, is she?" Annie asked the man.

"Not as far as we can tell," he replied.

"I could hold her for you. Maybe calm her down," she volunteered.

"Sure," he agreed readily. "She's pretty tense."

Annie took the screaming baby in her arms. The little hands and feet kicked and the little face crumpled into a tight grimace as tears spilled down her sooty face.

She rocked the little girl close to her and hummed in her ear. The baby had to be exhausted, as well as frightened, she reasoned. She held her tightly. Gradually, the crying was a little less and the tiny, fragile body relaxed. She was fitful but calm, making it easier to keep the oxygen mask on her face.

Traffic was light on the roads that evening and they made excellent time to the hospital. Nurses took the baby from her as soon as the vehicle had stopped at the emergency entrance. Annie could hear the little girl crying again as they hustled her down the sterile halls but there was nothing else she could do to comfort her.

Regulations wouldn't be broken any further. The baby would be thoroughly examined then a social worker would be assigned to her case and if there was a foster home available, she would be taken there until they could find one of her relatives or provide a more permanent home.

If there wasn't a home available, she would be left in the care of the hospital staff until further arrangements could be made.

It was cold and impersonal, but it was the only system for dealing with the thousands of abandoned babies and children they brought in every year. Annie always liked to think that they were going someplace better. Almost any place they were wanted had to be better.

She wrapped her empty arms around her waist and followed a nurse to an examining room.

She saw children and babies left alone, abused, every day. Yet something about this baby bothered her more than most. She didn't know what it was; maybe she was just getting old. Five years on the force could do that to a person. Her father and her mother had warned her before she took the shield.

No, she reasoned, stripping off her filthy uniform and donning a green hospital gown with the awful tie strings on the back. She was tired and dirty. She needed a hot shower and some clean clothes. And a strong cup of coffee. Then she'd be fine again.

She was balanced. She was focused. She just wanted to hold that baby again!

Well, what did she expect? she considered silently, while she endured the doctor's prodding and poking. She was almost twenty-five years old. Just because she hadn't taken the time yet to have children, didn't mean that she didn't want children.

She hadn't seriously considered another relationship since Sean had left her. There just didn't seem to be enough time with double shifts and community service projects. Then there was her family with their constant flow of weddings, funerals, and birthdays.

It was wonderful coming from a large family but it was time consuming. There was always something going on with the uncles, aunts or cousins. Not to mention her own eight brothers and sisters.

She hated women who were always complaining about their biological clocks ticking, prodding them to have children. She wasn't old enough to feel that way. But holding that baby reminded her of her own childhood. It reminded her that there was another life besides just going to work and coming home to an empty apartment.

A baby was soft smiles and gentle sighs. She was a tiny person who needed care and kindness. She was someone to love in a world where love seemed to be too difficult to maintain.

Of course she knew that there would be problems. She'd watched her brothers and sisters with their own children. She'd taken care of plenty of her younger siblings when she was still at home. She knew the responsibility, but she also knew the rewards.

First, she reminded herself, she had to find the right man.

"Well, I think you're all right, Officer. . ." the doctor checked the chart before he proceeded, ". . . O'Malley. You were fortunate. The nurse will give you some throat spray for that raw throat but I think you're fit for duty otherwise."

"Thanks, Doctor," she responded, getting up from the examination table. "There was a baby, a little girl brought in with me. Did you see her?"

He frowned. "Sure. She's okay, too. A social worker was already in the room before I got there. She'll be fine."

"That's great. Thanks."

"Any leads on her parents?"

"Not as far as I know," she told him. "The baby was in a warehouse on Seventh Street. We only found her because it was on fire."

He replaced the pen in his jacket pocket. "Sometimes I wonder about people. Take care, Officer O'Malley."

"You, too," she answered thoughtfully.

Annie found her favorite nurse, who also happened to be her sister-in-law, and begged her for a loan on a pair of hospital scrubs and a quick shower.

"Maybe the mother or father torched the warehouse so the baby would be found," her sister-in-law speculated.

"Maybe they could have left her at the bus station and she would have been found without the risk of her dying," Annie retorted.

"Still." Eileen shrugged while Annie dressed. "They might have meant well."

"In a strange sort of way," Annie agreed. "I know you see kids come through here that you wish their parents would have just dropped them off somewhere. I see them, too. But this was," she paused then continued, "cold. You know what I mean? Taking a baby to an abandoned warehouse in the middle of a bunch of other abandoned buildings. What were the chances she'd be found?"

Glad to be clean, Annie took the pair of shoes Eileen offered her, even though they were wrapped in hospital sterile material. She dried her hair with a towel, wishing she had a blow dryer with her.

"Go home and get some sleep," Eileen prescribed.

Annie nodded and sprayed some of the throat spray, grimacing at the taste.

"Maybe you shouldn't do that," Eileen teased. "You know men like women with those throaty voices."

Annie laughed. "I don't think that includes sounding like a frog."

"You don't sound like a frog," Eileen assured her. "You sound very Garbo." She lowered her own voice dramatically.

"I'm going home," Annie said with a shake of her damp hair. "This is too much for me. See you, Eileen. Thanks for the clothes and the shower."

"Bye, sis. See you Sunday."

Tony Rousso was waiting at the emergency room desk when she walked out of the electronic doors. She saw him a minute before he caught her out of the corner of his eye. She started to duck back inside.

Then she remembered that she had wanted to thank him and held her bag a little tighter as she walked up to him.

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