Things You Save in a Fire - Katherine Center Page 0,15

do really need somebody, and beggars couldn’t be choosers, and at this point, they’d take, quote: ‘Anybody with experience and a pulse—even a lady.’”

I kind of hated that word, “lady.” Made me sound like I had ringlets and a petticoat.

“And the chief agreed,” she added. “So you’re in.”

“So,” I said, summing up, “they don’t want me, but they’re so desperate, they’ll take me anyway.”

“That’s about the size of it.”

I thought for a second. “Well, I’m desperate, too. So I guess we’re a good match.”

“You’re a terrible match,” the captain said. “But your only other option is Boston. And I can’t imagine they want a lady either.”

I nodded.

“So you’ll take the position?”

I nodded again. What choice did I have?

“And what will you do?” she asked.

I wasn’t sure what she meant. I frowned. “I’ll get a map of the city and learn the territory before I get there. I’ll show up on time ready to work, and I’ll work hard—”

The captain cut me off. “That’s not what I mean.” She leaned across her desk to hand me a blank piece of paper.

I took it.

Then she found a pen in a drawer and flung it at me.

I caught it.

“How did you wind up here?” she asked then.

“I was recruited straight out of the academy.”

“Having graduated at the top of your class,” she added, “easily passing both the written and physical tests—and then I handpicked you to come here. And you’ve been a valued asset, a tireless worker, and a rising superstar ever since.”

She waited for me to see her point.

I didn’t, though.

She leaned closer to spell it out. “You have no idea what it’s like to work in a place where you’re not wanted. You’ve been recruited—welcomed—into every job you’ve ever had.”

She wasn’t wrong.

“But all that’s over now,” she said. “The day you walk out of here, all that’s gone.”

“Is it going to be that bad?” I asked.

“It’s going to be worse.”

I looked down at the sheet of paper. “What’s the paper for?”

She leaned back in her chair. “I’m going to give you some hard-won advice. And you’re going to take notes.”

“Okay.” I popped the cap off the pen and waited.

She paused for a second, like it was hard to know where to start. Then she began. “First: Don’t expect them to like you,” she said. “They dislike you already, and they’ve never even met you. These guys will never be your friends.”

She looked at the blank paper under my hand. “Write it down.”

I wrote it down.

She went on. “Don’t wear makeup, perfume, or lady-scented deodorant. ChapStick is okay, but no lip gloss—nothing shiny, no color. Don’t paint your nails. Don’t wear any jewelry, not even earring studs. And cut your hair off—or keep it back. Don’t take it down or shake it out or play with it—ever. Don’t even touch it.”

I wasn’t going to cut my hair off. That was where I drew the line.

“So the idea is to make them think I’m a guy?”

“They will know you’re not a guy. The boobs are a dead giveaway.”

I corrected: “To make them less aware I’m a girl?”

She nodded. “Whenever possible.” She went on. “Don’t giggle. And don’t laugh too loud. Don’t touch anybody for any reason. Don’t carry a purse. Don’t use the upper registers of your voice, but don’t allow too much vocal fry, either. Don’t sing, ever. And if you make eye contact, make it straight on, like a predator.”

“Are you joking?”

She raised one eyebrow, like, Do I ever joke?

No. She was not joking. I was going to have to look up the term “vocal fry.”

“Follow your orders,” she went on. “Don’t ask questions. Know the rules. Go above and beyond at every chance. If your captain says to run a mile, run two. If he wants you to dead-lift one fifty, do one seventy-five. How much can you dead-lift?”

“Two hundred.”

“Impressive. How many pull-ups can you do?”

“Twenty.” A lot, even for a guy.

“You need to do thirty, at least—and with ease. Get on that. Forty would be better. And make sure you can do at least a few one-handed.”

I wrote down 40 pull-ups.

“Don’t ever act afraid. Don’t ever hesitate. Don’t ever admit it when you don’t understand.”

“What if I don’t understand, though?”

“Figure it out. Like a man.”

I had no idea what that meant, but I wrote it down, too.

“Don’t back down from a challenge,” she went on, “and if you go up against somebody, make damn sure to win. No fear! If your hands start shaking, sit on them. If you