Calendar Senior, aka Captain Miracle
Of course he was a superhero to Jimmy
when he was a little boy, the firefighter father.
The old man disliked discussing the lives saved
but the son knew it was several. The man’s hands
pulled desperate people out windows
of buildings too involved for salvage.
Who faults a child for thinking their Dad
stands ten feet tall? The old man
turned out too strong to bend, too brave
to preserve himself. The last rescue,
the hinge he swiveled on: he emerged burning
and his workmates converged to extinguish.
End of the career. Of course he was invincible
while Jimmy was small and needed
a benevolent demigod to put his faith in.
The old man in forced retirement
disliked explaining the burn scars. He’d stop
his car if he happened on a fire. ‘Til he passed
in his sleep one night, he still wanted in.
The Fire Chief’s Son’s Sensory Memories: Glowing Leadership
The fire chief was on fire chiefly because he disliked delegating. He’s Can-Do, tends to charge into involved structures half-jacketed or bare-headed. The record of Lives Saved speaks volumes for him. But in the aftermath of such an accident the makings are plain. It’s rash, running toward a raging burn, even with a respirator. When he heard that call, he didn’t check the gear, he rushed in, this human torch we’re trying to revive.
Captain Miracle Speaks of Arson
Jimmy’s father comes home rolled in soot,
from a restaurant fire. “The insurance overheated,” he says.
To a naïve fourth grade kid, arson is a strange notion.
Sometimes success demands people destroy their own place.
The fastest exit from a tight spot can be a lighter
and a can of gasoline. Captain Miracle cleans up,
then catches up on sleep. He doesn’t mention this event
again. Jimmy, on the contrary, cannot drop the thought
despite the daily distractions. Kids are shielded
from knowing how widespread self-destruction is.
Arson’s one form, but he mulls all the varieties.
He’s eleven but he spots signs in his neighbor, an uncle,
a bully from school. Never a whiff of it off of Captain Miracle,
saver of a couple dozen lives. Unless asked his favorite
material to build houses from. Firefighters all say brick
or stone, but Jimmy’s dad loves wood above the rest.
He favors it even knowing the odds of a fire.
Is that a form of self-destruction, but turned on its side?
Does he promote wood to enhance his job security?
No and no. There is another point. Jimmy’s seen him
cut down a tree, debark it and run the sections through
a board planer. He built furniture, including
the seat he flopped heavy into after the insurance fire.
Captain Miracle says even lumber and the boards
in the walls carry on breathing. And that’s the thing,
that there’s life in wood. Jimmy walks his town,
guessing who is in despair or financial descent,
and if they will torch their enterprise. He knows
who will arrive to save what can be saved,
after someone drops a match to fix a heartsickness.
Todd Mercer was nominated for Best of the Net in 2018, and won the Kent County Dyer-Ives Poetry Prize. His chapbook Life-wish Maintenance is posted at Right Hand Pointing. Recent work appears in: A New Ulster, The Lake, and Mojave River Review.
“Calendar Senior, aka Captain Miracle” & “The Fire Chief’s Son’s Sensory Memories: Glowing Leadership” first appeared at The Magnolia Review.