Here's the final version of my short story to wrap up this summer WIM season. Enjoy!
Smoke On the Water
On a clear spring morning, I walked along the long pier at Washington Park Beach, the waters of Lake Michigan lapped at the shore, Foamy waves carried a scattering of seashells to decorate the sand. I?d received a special assignment from the National Historical Society to design an overload appliqu? for the annual BalloonFest in Astor Fields next month. They?d given me permission to tour the automated lighthouse. I swallowed hard and held my breath.
Lighthouses had always fascinated me ever since I was a young girl. From my previous research on Michigan City Lighthouse & Pier, I?d gotten the gist of how tall and wide the beacon would be for the balloon. I pretended to faint. My pulse soared like a surfer riding a wave when the local newspaper mentioned my name in that article. At the entrance, I typed rough estimates for the pre-cut design. Instead of the usual red-and-white stripes, I etched a light composition on the canvas like an artist painting their seascape. My heartbeat slammed inside my chest as I?d worked on the design. When I finished, I unlocked the doors to the leading light with the master key.
Inside the beacon, I climbed the spiral staircase to the elevated catwalk. Out-of-breath, I reached the top and glanced at the large windows facing Lake Michigan to marvel at the view. ?Wow! I feel like I'm on top of the world?? I let out a soft chuckle and relaxed my shoulders.
Nothing but a sunny sky, a couple puffs of smoke. What the hell? I moved closer to the railing. Something buoyed along the tide. Smoke on the water. I gasped at deflated hot air balloon that floated with broken suspension cords. ?Someone call 9-1-1 ASAP!? I headed toward the pier as I waited for help. Why was that balloon here unless it was an aeronaut from the Balloonfest.
I exited and sprinted toward the quiet beach. At the parking lot, I removed my sneakers and my jean shorts, and stashed them with my tablet and duffel bag in my car. As a former senior lifeguard, I was a strong swimmer trained to rescue people in the water. I bit my lower lip and guessed the basket was at least fifteen feet away.
Sirens sounded in the distance. Like a buoy, somebody clutched onto the basket. I rushed toward the water?s edge before anyone could stop me.
"Hey miss. You should leave it to the professionals. Didn?t you call for help?"
I nodded and glanced at him. He dressed in a MCFD uniform. But I couldn't tell what rank and name appeared on his backside. "Yes, I did. But this person needs our help. I'm a former lifeguard.."
He scoffed. "Yeah, right. Please step back and let us do our job. We'll get to the site faster without your interference."
I opened my mouth and closed it shut. I would love to prove him wrong. "Wanna bet?.Officer."
"It's Lieutenant O'Dowd. What?s your name? And you're on." He snickered.
O?Dowd? Wait a minute here. One of my survival camp instructors last fall had been named O'Dowd? I smirked. "Logan, we meet again. It?s Jillian Ross. Meet you at the basket." I ran toward the shallow end and dove straight into the chilly water. No doubt, he groaned behind me and accelerated the fire/rescue boat. I?d gotten the lead by a mere margin as I propelled myself forward with the freestyle stroke. I didn't notice the chill, but more swirling smoke wafted into the air from the sinking basket as someone called for "help."
Logan sped on the waves. I splashed Logan when I approached the basket. This man inside sported a black hooded jacket. Smoke consumed his face as he blocked it with his hand.
I did my best to shrug off the shivers.Fire engulfed the hot air balloon. A Coast Guard clipper doused the flame and tended to the injured man?s needs. A splash didn?t do much to smother this out-of-control blaze.
He smirked and folded his arms. "Not so fast. You've proven your point, and we'll take over from here. We don't want you to catch a cold.?
"I wanted to save a life... Lieutenant."
?Want a ride back to the beach?" He grabbed a towel and held it out for me when I climbed inside the boat to dry off. What a perfect gentleman. So gallant and chivalrous.
My lips quivered. I frowned at the faded white, red, and blue colors from the hot air balloon. The fire smeared the design with a missing logo or emblem. I wrapped myself inside a warm towel as we sped past the clipper that gathered the balloon for evidence.
"Satisfied," Logan said. "But I don?t know what you were thinking or had to prove by swimming into cold water?"
"Nothing. Just wanted to save a life. I guess I did in a way." I remained quiet until we reached shore. "Thanks for the lift. See you around..Logan." I jumped out and tossed him his towel. I sprinted toward my car in the parking lot. Ten minutes later, I drove away and headed toward my home in Valparaiso. A secret smirk crossed my face when I know we would meet again when our relationship would take flight like navigating a hot air balloon for the Balloonfest next month.
Topic: Week 4: Smoke on the Water (Read 739 times)