I remember the color of the smoke before I remember the color of my room it was gray like the sky after rain but heavier thicker it moved like water and I was floating inside it I was eight years old the air tasted like iron and I could not find my mother I heard her voice but it was fading somewhere behind the wall I remember holding my stuffed bear the one with one eye missing and thinking that maybe if I stayed still the fire would pass me by but it didn’t

It started with the sound of glass breaking then the light turned orange and I could see the shape of the door bending heat has a way of making everything look alive the walls moved like breathing animals I tried to crawl but the floor was hot my hair stuck to my face and I could not open my eyes the world was noise and flame and every breath felt like swallowing knives I think I screamed but I am not sure because all I could hear was the fire eating

Then something heavy hit the door and a voice came through deep calm shouting my name or maybe just shouting I didn’t know I coughed so hard I could not answer the sound came again louder boots against the floor then the door cracked open and light burst through it like the sun I saw a shape in black and yellow a mask and a visor a hand reaching through smoke it looked unreal like a drawing in the air the hand grabbed me and lifted me and suddenly the air changed it was still hot but it felt safe I remember the smell of metal and rubber and the sound of breathing through a machine and then I was outside

The night was alive with lights red and blue swirling around my small world people were shouting water was flying from a hose like silver snakes the man who carried me laid me on the grass I could see his name on the badge but I couldn’t read it his helmet was scratched his eyes behind the mask were steady calm he said something soft like you’re safe now kid and I wanted to answer but I just cried I remember the sky full of stars mixed with ashes it looked like both heaven and hell together

They told me later that he went back inside again after leaving me that he pulled two more people out before the roof came down I don’t remember his face clearly but I remember his hands they were shaking when he took off his gloves and touched my hair not from fear I think but from everything he had just seen I held his fingers and said thank you with a voice that didn’t sound like mine he nodded once and then stood up to face the fire again

That night something stayed inside me like a seed I didn’t understand it then but I know now it was the beginning of my dream I kept his badge number written on a piece of paper the nurses gave me later I used to hold it under my pillow and whisper that one day I would find him or become like him I didn’t know which would come first but I knew I couldn’t forget the way the fire looked when someone walked into it to save another

Years later when people asked why I wanted to be a firefighter I told them it was because I was saved by one but that’s not the full truth it wasn’t just gratitude it was fascination it was the way fear and courage lived in the same place I wanted to understand how a person could walk toward what everyone else runs from I wanted to feel that kind of purpose the kind that burns but doesn’t destroy

So that night became the first chapter of my life written not with ink but with smoke every decision after that pointed toward the same flame I didn’t know the path would be long or that it would test every piece of me I only knew that the fire that nearly took my life had also given me one