Proof of Angels Read Online Free

crashing through the walls and flying out of his apartment, out of New York, and out of his own skin. And as he grew, the buildings, the people, the noise in New York surrounded him and crushed him. In elevators, in stairwells, in subways, in hospital rooms Sean felt like howling: Get me the hell out of here! Just get me out of here . When he drank, the panic he often felt dissipated. He felt in control. The rooms seemed manageable. The people in them did not seem so oppressive, so loud, so overwhelming. But when he was sober the spaces caved in on him. He wanted grand expanses. He wanted mountains. Valleys. Oceans. He wanted distance. He wanted to be as far as possible from the old life. And when Sean had stood on the shore of the Pacific Ocean in Santa Monica with Colm, his sister, and Dr. Basu three years before, he knew. He knew this was where he would build his life. His new life.
    A new life , Sean thought to himself now. That’s what he’d wanted when he’d moved to Los Angeles. And he sure as hell was going to get it. An entirely new life. Once again forced to start all over from zero. As if he had nothing left to lose, because he thought there was nothing left that life could possibly take from him. Only there was always more to take. Always . “Don’t get too comfortable, Sean,” his Irish-Catholic mother would often say. “That other shoe, well, it’s always waiting to drop.”
    Sean didn’t want to have to call his sister and tell her this.He didn’t want this. This new life . Whatever this new life without the fire department meant.
    â€œSo give it to me straight, Davis. What am I dealing with? Disability? Pension?”
    â€œLet’s not get ahead of ourselves, Sean. We came by to see how you’re feeling. You’ve been out six weeks. And you’re awake now, so we can talk. It’s just standard. They were able to fix your back and your leg will heal. It’s your head everyone is worried about.”
    â€œWhat’s new about that?” Sean said with a grin.
    â€œBack to yourself. I like to hear that,” the captain said again, nervously.
    â€œI am looking at my legs in traction. I have steel rods and screws inserted into my back. My hands—under these gloves—look like leather mitts. From where I am lying, I am calling this one as I see it.”
    â€œWe can give you a dispatch position. Or you can train to become a marshall or a training officer. Or you can take the full pension for disability.”
    â€œHow much time do I have to think about it?”
    â€œAfter your short-term disability expires.”
    â€œSo no more riding on the engine? No more fires? No more runs?”
    â€œNo, Sean. Would you want someone like you to have your back in a fire?”
    Sean inhaled and didn’t respond. He didn’t need to. He’d been here for six weeks. Short-term disability lasted only a year, and it came with strings. He would be examined constantly. And he knew what the doctors would report: Hewas unfixable. He wasn’t going to be able to go anywhere in three years on his legs, let alone one. He shook his head. Even though they were giving him options, he knew they wanted him to be the one to say it, to be the one to come to his own conclusion, and relieve them of the dirty work of taking away a man’s life. Because that’s what it was: a life. Every firefighter knew it. This wasn’t just a job. It was a life. A life . His life . The only one he saw fit to live.
    â€œI am not fit to do anything else. I don’t know what else to do. I’m a firefighter. It’s all I know how to do. It’s all I want to do,” Sean said to no one in particular.
    â€œCome on.” The captain walked over and put his hand on Sean’s exposed shoulder. “I know this is hard to take. But you’re going to be okay. Do you know what a lucky break you just got? You fell three stories and survived.