Beyond the Flames

By Tammy D. White

A struggling but optimistic artist has to find a new sense of purpose after he sacrifices his lifes dream to save an insecure diva. He soon comes to understand that he must be sure of her survival in order to save himself. In order to survive and build a future that wont destroy her, she has to come to grips with her past.
Just when he thinks he understands all that has occurred, he is devastated by deception. Will his faith be enough to keep him going or will a past revelation give him new perspective and change the future?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Sep 26, 2013
• ISBN: 9781483647302

Tammy D. White

Tammy White is an unlimited imagination with a southern soul. A freelance illustrator, poet and Auburn University graduate, her works, whether visual or written, are an extension of her experiences, environment, or unbridled imagination. Though a first time author, her artwork has been featured in local media and education facilities. She has won several Associated Press awards for illustration and news graphics and serves with the Alabama State Council on the Arts Collaborating Artist Program as a teaching artist. Tammy has also been Art Director for performing arts camps serving both children and adults.

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Copyright © 2013 by Tammy D. White.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Rev. date: 09/20/2013

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris LLC

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

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Contents

Introduction

Chapter 1   Wreck and Rescue

Chapter 2   Identity and Healing

Chapter 3   Search and Recovery

Chapter 4   Therapy and Truth

Chapter 5   Open Wounds

Chapter 6   A Struggle for Love

Chapter 7   Conflicts And Resolution

Chapter 8   Days to Remember

Chapter 9   Reunions

Chapter 10   The Long Way Around

Chapter 11   Uncharted paths

Chapter 12   Loose Ends

Chapter 13   Tomorrow’s Promise

This work is dedicated to a woman who always encouraged me to pursue my dreams with vigor, to accept opportunity with caution, and to serve God unconditionally. Her teachings will continue to serve as guidance and my memories of her will forever be an inspiration.

In loving memory of my mother, Emma B. White

1941-2010

Introduction

He gave new meaning to the term long-suffering. To him the term was like words of praise, a test of faith. His work was no longer just his dream; it had become his way of life. Job Kingston never sought fortune or fame; he only wanted to be heard so that he’d be able to share that which ran so deep within his soul. At times, it seemed that all he had was his faith and his work. He knew that each day his faith would bring the work to life. Eventually these beliefs would prove to be his greatest asset at his most trying times.

Job is a simple man by most terms. He goes to work, does his job, serves his community, and works on his life’s dream in between. He doesn’t interfere in the affairs of others, and is no social butterfly, but he is by no means simple minded. Josiah Job Kinston is a well educated, multi-talented, God-fearing, kind-hearted, and strong individual. He has enough arrogance to believe in his abilities, and enough humility to know that they were not his by right, but by God’s grace. The only thing missing in Job’s life was the joy of purpose—a reason to express the beauty of his gifts and the comfort they could give. He had no idea he’d soon have both, and as a result, his life would never be the same.

Job will be challenged in ways he couldn’t foresee, go to unimaginable lengths, find untested strengths, and reach heights he never thought possible. Job’s life will embark on a journey from which there is no return. After a life-altering decision, Kingston embarks on a quest to answer questions he does not yet know exist, and encounters the demons of one whose traumas seem greater than his own. The outcome of this journey yields twists that only God himself could manufacture.

Chapter 1

WRECK AND RESCUE

Sixth sense

It was one of those rare calm and sunny winter days in the city. A gentle breeze was blowing from the west, the sun was beaming high in the eastern sky as it gently kissed and glistened reflectively off the dome of his smoothly shaven head. As he exited a glass-cloaked tower, a sudden gust of wind sent a fallen leaf rushing across his path, barely avoiding the crushing stride of his highly polished boot. The sudden change sent a chilling sensation sprinting up his spine. He stopped, looked around, shook it off and walked on.

As he walked across the street, he took out a handkerchief and wiped away a single bead of sweat that was forming on his brow. All he sought was a place of quiet contemplation to renew his resolve after another day of disappointment. His eyes scoured the park then finally came to rest upon what appeared to be an ideal spot. The area in the eastern corner of the park partially obscured by a fountain, was seemingly quiet, softly shaded, and had a bench for seating. The bench seemed to be isolated by its surroundings, but was only steps away from the bus stop. He waited a moment or two to see if anyone else was approaching before taking a seat.

Josiah Job Kingston was a long-suffering creative spirit, but a ruggedly handsome man of great physical presence—broad shouldered and well toned. At first glance you would think him to be a real bully of a man, arrogant, or perhaps even cruel, but he was truly as gentle as a lamb. His skin was like carefully worn leather in a rich chocolate hue. He was well groomed, and affordably well dressed: wearing black from head to toe, carrying a satchel of his work at his side. Despite his appearance, great talents, and great optimism, his work seemed hard to sell.

Too personal, said one agent.

Too sad, another had claimed, and that just doesn’t sell anymore.

These phrases, which described his latest work, echoed in his mind as he gazed almost hypnotically at his busy, on-the-go surroundings. Mulling over his latest rejection, a pattern he’d become accustomed to but not acceptant of, Job sat quietly, observing the people and actions around him and wondered why he couldn’t see the world as others did. Why did he always look deeper, feel, and see more than what he was expected to; more than what was on the surface? Is it just me, or is there something specific that I’m supposed to be seeing, or looking for? he asked himself staring toward the sky as if he wanted an immediate answer. The real question, Was it something that only he could give? remained unanswered. If the answer was yes, what could it be, and how would he know it?

Job’s concentration was suddenly broken by a return of that strange sensation—a feeling that caused him to look up in all directions. To the North he saw the midtown bus approaching, from the east he spotted a white stretched Lincoln Town car, moving much too fast. Of course, there was nothing unusual about that; after all, this was the heart of the city, where all the movers and shakers spent their time. Suddenly! As if in slow motion, the silence was shattered. A courier cyclist made a sudden dash across the park, and into the street. As the limo swerved to avoid the rider, it crashed head-on into the midtown bus, which was turning eastward to circle the square. All that was heard was a clash and screams when the two vehicles locked together like horned animals in heated combat.

Oh my God! someone screamed, Call 911.

Job took a moment to collect his thoughts then completed the call he wasn’t aware he had begun. All he could see were flames and twisted metal with a license plate attached, clinging to the grill of the bus. The bus’s front end was raised like a great beast, standing defensively on its hind legs, pleading and waiting for the smaller vehicle to let go. Fortunately for the passengers on the bus, the impact was minimal. Though shaken, most passengers emerged virtually unharmed.

The bus driver, who was unconscious, and the people in the car were not as fortunate. The trappings that held them were weightier, and less giving. The limo’s front end had been crushed in an accordion fashion, causing the doors to be wedged between the front and back of the vehicle, leaving very little space inside for possible survivors. The sheer disbelief of what he had just witnessed made Job shutter. He couldn’t quite grasp the reality of what was happening.

After taking a moment to try and sort out what had occurred, Job looked away again briefly then turned his attention back to the scene. At that point, he heard a bone-chilling scream, terrified and pleading, arising from the wreckage.

Oh God! Somebody help us, please! I can’t breathe, the voice pleaded in fear.

The gathering crowd could see that there was little chance the driver had survived, but someone had. People were shouting, Hey! There’s someone alive in there.

As the flames rose, asserting their dominance, fuel fumes filled the air. The onlookers yelled, Stand back! It’s going to blow!

The crowd scattered in fear of becoming victims of the aftermath. While the path to the wreckage widened in all directions, the harrowing screams continued. The metal grew hotter as the flames grew higher. The front tires began to bulge and then explode from the heat and pressure. With each sign of imminent destruction, the voice from the car grew weaker but pled harder.

Hearing the sirens in the distance, the crowd knew that help was on the way, but that now familiar sensation, told Job that help wouldn’t make it in time. He then had to make a life-altering choice. His first instinct was to wait for the paramedics, someone experienced in these matters, yet something within him knew that if they were too late, that scream would haunt him forever. The thought made Job decide to act.

We have to do something, and we have to do it now! Job stated as he neared the site, or she’s not going to make it.

It’s too dangerous, a voice in the crowd shouted.

There are people in there, and they need our help, Job replied.

Again he heard that chilling scream, only this time it was much weaker; he knew that whoever was in there wouldn’t last much longer. The situation gave him an even greater sense of urgency, and the sirens still seemed too far away. He called for help to free the people in the car.

Come on folks, we can’t just stand around and watch these people burn to death, Job insisted. Somebody, give me a hand! Then he asked, If you won’t help them, at least try to get the bus driver to safety. I’ll see if I can get into the car.

Job’s only assistance finally came from a man in sweats and sneakers, who had obviously been jogging toward the park. Just as the jogger pulled the driver to safety, the smoke and flames from the front of the car rose up into the bus, engulfing the driver’s seat and steering wheel. This meant real trouble, for it would only be a matter of time before reaching the fuel tank, and ending it all in a massive explosion.

By now, the police had arrived and began evacuating the area of onlookers, other traffic and access blockers. Okay people, we need you all to clear the area, shouted a voice through a bullhorn.

Job’s efforts were joined by two police officers. They tried pulling and prying at the doors with no relief; the hot metal was welded shut. They tried to reach into the broken windows at the side of the car, but the crushed metal made them too narrow. Their only hope would be to break the glass in the rear window, and pull the victim to safety.

All right, Sir, we’re going to have to ask you to stand clear now, the officer said.

No, please, don’t leave me here alone, the weakened voice cried from inside the inferno. Job had established a sense of trust with the woman, and believed it was important that he stay close to keep her from giving up.

Please officer, I’d rather stay. I think I can help, Job asserted.

The officers agreed, so he stayed to reassure her, while the police tried to find a way to get her out of the vehicle. One officer went into a nearby building to find something heavy enough to break the thick black tinted glass. He returned with a heavy metal stand that had once held trays of pastry in one of the tower’s shops. As the sirens of the ambulances and fire engines got closer, Job climbed onto the trunk of the car trying to look inside and offer the poor soul a little more to cling to.

Hang on, he yelled. We’re going to get you out of there.

Please! a woman’s voice replied. The smoke… I don’t want to die.

You won’t. I promise, Job assured, relying on his faith to make it true. He could smell the spreading fumes from the inside the car; out of the corner of his eye, he could see the rising flames. The end was near and time had simply run out, yet he continued to comfort her by saying, I’m here, don’t be afraid.

The police had considered shooting the glass to break it, but feared hitting the victim, or triggering an explosion even sooner. Instead, Job removed his jacket and wrapped it around his hands to shield them from impact. With the rack held firmly between them, his massive forearms shielding his face, he summoned all his faith, courage, and strength, as he raised his hands above his head and brought them down again, plunging the full force of the rack and his body into the glass.

Totally consumed by his actions and thoughts of the soul trapped within, Job heard only the sound of the breaking glass as the smoke and fumes demanded his retreat. He hustled back to survey the situation. After turning his face outward and filling his lungs with fresh air, he turned back to face his foe with greater determination. He had come too far to give up on her now. The first thing he caught sight of confirmed his fears—the driver never had a chance, at least, that’s what he told himself—the alternative was just too horrible to imagine. Again, Job came up for air. Then, as though by divine intervention, there was a brief moment of clarity in the mist of smoke, fire, and fumes.

Job could see only a figure—still moving, but crouching in a small pocket of space created by the folded metal and back of the driver’s seat—trapped beneath a broken body. Fortunately for them both, the slight wind was blowing the poison away from her. He knew he had to free her. The thought of a woman, he’d offered so much hope, dying in the center of that inferno was unbearable. Braving searing heat and agonizing pain he reached in once more.

Grab my hand! Job yelled.

I can’t see it! she mumbled back.

Then follow my voice, he replied.

You have to talk to me, she cried.

It’s alright, I’m here, Job reassured. I’ve got you.

After what had only been minutes, but seemed like hours, the fire and rescue teams finally arrived on the scene. A firefighter and one of the policemen held on to Job’s soot-coated boots, while he pulled to free the frail and bloodied body from its smoldering tomb. Though unrecognizable due to injuries and soot, she was conscious, but only for an instant. In what seemed only seconds later, the remaining mass of the limousine exploded, taking part of the commuter bus with it, launching debris several blocks away, and causing more injuries. Still, Job’s only concern was for the woman’s safety and survival.

While the firemen tended the wreckage, Job stepped back so the paramedics could tend the wounded woman. They carried her stretcher to an awaiting ambulance; she briefly regained consciousness, but all she could see of her hero was his silhouette beyond the flames.

Job had been so determined in his attempts to save the woman in the car that he had not stopped to think of himself. He was startled when a paramedic reached out to guide him to another ambulance for treatment.

What are you doing? Job asked the medic, unaware of his own injuries.

Sir, I’m trying to help you, the man responded.

Feeling no pain, Job questioned, Help me do what? I’m fine.

The medic gently grabbed Job’s hands and looked at him. Seeing that the Good Samaritan was in shock, he calmly stated, No, Sir, you’re not.

The medic looked down at Job’s hands, as if to direct his attention, and Job followed his gaze. What he saw not only startled him but would also present his greatest test of faith thus far, for in his hands dwelled his greatest gifts and highest hopes. Not only were they badly burned, they were damaged beyond feeling, or so it seemed. His heart sank in disbelief. He looked up at the rescue workers, and then at the fleeting ambulance, carrying the soul he had just freed from a fiery fate. He prayed silently for a moment then inwardly declared, We’ll both be okay.

Job and the other people with non-life threatening injuries were sent to the Northside Trauma Center at St. Lucia’s Memorial Hospital for treatment. Upon arrival at St. Luc’s, Job took a moment to observe what surrounded him. He noticed that there was a frenzy of motion all about him. People were rushing to and fro’ barking instructions, and slinging medical jargon. What Job hadn’t noticed before were the numerous other people who had been injured by the exploding debris. His attention had been solely focused on the woman trapped in the car. Even during his long ambulance ride across town, he had not been able to direct his attention to his own injuries because he couldn’t stop asking himself the same nagging questions:

Did she make it? he asked himself. Did I take too long to reach her?

Job continued to scan the chaos. Most of the injuries being treated seemed to be minor. As they rolled him inside, and parked him on a gurney, he stopped a passing nurse who was exiting the hospital:

Pardon me, Miss, but can you tell me if the woman from the limo has been brought in yet? he asked.

I’m sorry, sir, but I have no idea, she told him. He then spoke to several other workers, asking the same question before he finally managed to get the attention of one of the paramedics he remembered seeing at the scene of the accident.

Excuse me, Job shouted as the man walked by.

Who, me? the Medic responded.

Yes, said Job. You were at the accident, weren’t you?

Yeah, Carl’s the name, replied the Medic. Hey, you’re that guy from the car!

Yes, I’m Job, he answered. And I need your help. I’m trying to find out about the lady from the wreck. Job continued, But no one here seems to know anything about her, or where she is.

That’s probably because she had to be airlifted to Mercy General, Carl informed him, They have an emergency burn and trauma unit there that’s better suited to handle her kind of injuries.

Mercy was a more advanced medical facility in the grater metropolitan area. It was about an hour’s drive from the central city. It had a staff that specialized in severe injuries, and rare medical conditions, as well as housing a state-of-the-art therapy unit for recovery.

Finally, he knew she had survived, or at least for now, she was still fighting.

Trauma and Separation

Now that he knew his damsel in distress