Boys Will Be Boys

By The Twits

Captain Hank Stanley walked from his office to behind the squad and fire engine in the apparatus bay, a clipboard in hand. It was the start of another twenty-four hour duty for his crew on A-Shift, and the captain was ready for the morning roll call. He was glad to see his men already gathered in the area and waiting for him. When they saw him approach, the five firemen quickly got into a line.

Hank sighed when he noticed Chet Kelly supporting an extra in line. It was the training dummy they often used for CPR practice, dressed up in a familiar way, women’s clothing and a bobbed-hairstyle wig. 

“Not again, Kelly. Who got ya this time?”

It was well known the guys liked to play pranks on each other now and then, especially Chet on John Gage. But the dark-haired paramedic sometimes was able to get in his own tricks, usually in an effort to turn the tables on Chet.

All eyes were on Mike Stoker, the usually quiet engineer. Hank raised an eyebrow in surprise, then a slight grin spread across his face.

Well, I’ll be. . .

But there was business to take care of and no time to let the game linger.

“Just be sure you get him to his original appearance right after roll call and ditch the ladies clothing in your car or something. I’m sure you all remember we have an open house starting in approximately. . .” He glanced at his watch, then returned his attention to the men. “Fifty minutes.”

“Did C-Shift get everything ready?” Johnny wondered. “Or do we hafta scramble?”

“They took care of the cleaning,” Hank explained. “We just have to do the hosting. A caterer should be bringing in some snack type foods soon.”

“What about Henry?” Marco wondered.

Hank had forgotten about the current station mascot. But being that the basset hound rarely even got off the couch. . . “I don’t think he’ll be a problem. I doubt they’ll even notice he’s here and if they do, he adds a nice touch to the station. Ought to be a hit with the kids and older visitors.” With one more sour glance at Chet’s ‘friend’, he continued on with the meeting, assigning each man an area to oversee. “Mike, you cover the engine, Chet, you can handle the dayroom and kitchen. But,” he quickly added, “no eating the guest food.” Hank smiled at the frown on his face, then continued.  “Marco, you get the back lot and hose rack, and, Roy, you can cover the squad.”

Johnny’s mouth dropped open. “Cap, what about me?”

“You get the dorm. And make sure no kids turn our beds into trampolines.”

“Right,” the younger paramedic nodded, holding back a frown. He'd rather have the squad, but Roy was the senior paramedic. Plus Johnny had gotten to show the squad and its equipment during the previous tour that came through.

“Okay, the station’s already been stood down by headquarters, so make the forty-five minutes or so useful while we wait.”

“By doing what?” Chet asked.

“Well, after you dismantle your girlfriend, you and the others can help me with some paperwork. How’s that?”

“Great.”

“Wonderful.”

“Sure.”

None of the responses sounded overly enthused. Hank grinned as he headed for his office.

“Paperwork? Nice goin’, Chester B,” Johnny commented. “We could’ve found something to keep us busy.”

“Like what?”

“Basketball,” Marco offered.

“Or chess,” Roy added.

“Cards,” Mike put in.

“Paperwork,” Gage once again mumbled as he shook his head.

“At least it’s only for a short time. . .kinda.”

Chet went to work undressing the dummy, then stored it in the closet. He took the women’s clothes out to his car as requested.

In the meantime the others’ moods had already brightened. The paperwork would make time pass quickly and then the open house would begin. They always enjoyed showing the public what a fire station and their job was all about.

E!E!E!E!

While the rest of the crew followed their captain into the station’s small office, Roy pulled open the side door panels on the squad to take a quick inventory. With his pen he promptly scratched the needed supplies into his small black book and replaced it into his breast pocket. Having closed the doors he slowly started walking around the rescue vehicle taking a keen visual stock of its general appearance. He stopped momentarily noticing a small scuff on the front driver’s side panel and untucked his baby blue shirt and buffed the mark off the squad. Standing back he looked over his handy work nodding his head in approval. With his head lowered and tucking his shirt back into his pants he slammed into his partner, who was making his way out of the office.

“Hey, watch it!” Johnny chided, waving the papers in his hand through the air.

“Sorry.”

“Yeah, yeah. Cap wants us to see if the timings for the engine match ours from the previous shift.”

“’Kay, I’ll get our book.” Roy returned to the squad to retrieve its logbook while Johnny continued on into the kitchen taking a seat at the table.

When Roy caught up to him, his partner was already flipping through the papers making sure they were in chronological order. Before sitting next to him, Roy glanced up at the stove. “Want some coffee?”

“Sure,” Johnny replied without taking his eyes off of the sheets.

While Roy was making the two cups of coffee, Marco and Mike entered the room, claiming the two chairs across from Gage, papers of their own in hand.

“How was the Indian Scout camp?” Mike asked.

“Superb, the kids had a lot of fun,” Roy answered, placing the two cups on the table while he took his seat. “What about the boys soccer game?”

“Not good, but they had fun, too.”

“They lose again?” Marco chimed.

“Afraid so. It’s the defense, we need a stronger defense.”

“Hmm.”

“You guys remember the warehouse fire? That was a.m. right? Not p.m.?” Johnny frowned.

“Warehouse? With 110’s?” Mike questioned.

“Yeah.”

“Definitely a.m., we were in the middle of watching the ‘Ten Thousand Dollar Pyramid’ when the call came in.”

“That’s right!” Johnny snapped his fingers pointing at his shiftmate. “Looks like you’re in error here, Roy.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, the squad’s log has that run down as ten forty-five at night.”

“Listen, Junior. Who drove to that call?”

“You.”

“So who logged the run?”

“Oh, yeah, I guess that would be me.”

“Right.”

“Trying to avoid responsibility again, Gage?”

“Shut up, Chet.” The dark-haired fireman scowled at the stocky man.

“Come on, guys. Knock it off, it’s hard to work with you two acting like a couple of five-year-olds,” Mike stated.

“Who died and made you captain?”

“Kelly, whenever the captain is indisposed, leadership automatically transfers to me.”

“That’s reaching a bit isn’t it, Captain Stoker?” Chet asked sarcastically.

“Maybe, but do you see Cap here?” Mike looked around the room.

“Okay, okay, I think they get your point, Mike.” Roy grinned at the smirk on the engineer’s face as he stared down the Irish man.

Chet decided to ignore the man who was already up one on him that morning, having managed to somehow get the CPR dummy into his locker. Before the end of the shift the renowned prankster would get even with the usually quiet fireman.

When Chet took a seat, the room soon became quiet with only an occasional murmur when some of the week’s previous runs were being questioned. Not one of the men had noticed or heard their captain enter the room.

Hank cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows when five sets of eyes looked up at him. “Gentlemen, this is Miss Doyle. She’s brought the food from the caterer and could use a hand.”

“I’ll get right on that, Cap.” Johnny flew out of his chair with Chet close behind.

“Hi, John Gage at your service.” The paramedic held out his hand with a smile plastered on his face.

“Hello, John. Nice to meet you.” She placed her hand in his and shook.

“Kelly, Chet Kelly.” The fireman also held his hand out.

“Chet,” She smiled.

“And yours?” Johnny nudged Chet back a bit.

“Sandy.”

“Well, Sandy, lets go get the food.”

As the three walked out of the room, the four men left behind stared in their wake, shaking their heads back and forth.

“I sure hope this goes quickly,” Hank commented while the other three chuckled lightly.

E!E!E!E!

It wasn't long before Kelly and Gage returned, their arms laden with trays of delicious smelling food. The attractive, blonde-haired Sandy followed behind. Johnny turned to her after setting his trays down and took the large bowl from her hands. He placed it on the counter while she set down two grocery bags. They prepared to make another trip when an exclamation from Chet had all eyes on him.

"Chet?"

"Yeah, Cap?"

"Problem?"

"Uh, not really."

"How 'not really'?"

"Just going to need to fix these up a little. I sort of - um - dropped the trays when I was putting them down."

Sandy walked over and glanced at the slightly jumbled food.

"Not a problem. I can fix them up in no time. We're almost done bringing things in," she said with a smile.

"There's more?" asked Marco.

"Several boxes of pastries, a sheet cake, and a large coffee urn are still out in the van."

"I can help you guys," he volunteered. Mike gave him a slightly dirty look as his friend abandoned the paperwork to help the caterer.

"C'mon, Johnny. Don't need fumble-fingers over there dropping anything else," he grinned and made a hasty exit.

"Hey!" Chet replied. "Thanks a lot, pal."

Gage smiled and followed Marco out the door.

"All right you guys," said Captain Stanley. "That's enough already. We're supposed to make the department look professional. Can't do that if you're going to act like - "

"My kids," added Roy, trying hard to hide his own grin.

Miss Doyle was laughing as well. Chet looked a bit put out.

"Here," she said handing him the bag with the paper cups, plates and napkins. "Why don't you help me set these up on that small table over there."

"You bet," he replied. He was determined to do this without further embarrassment.

Mike and Roy gathered the paperwork they had nearly finished and took it to the captain's office. When Marco and Johnny returned with the last of the items, Sandy enlisted their help in arranging the food while she made the punch.

Everything was ready with fifteen minutes to spare. The men chatted with the caterer until she had to leave.

"I'll be back later with more food and to help clean up," she told them.

"Looking forward to it," said Chet. The rest of the guys chuckled.

Hank Stanley gave the station one final once-over and was satisfied that they were ready. Promptly at 9:00 am their first guests arrived.

"Good morning and welcome to Station 51," greeted the captain.

"Good morning yourself, good lookin'."

Two elderly women made their way into the fire station. The men tried to hide their grins at the captain's flustered expression. Looking around the apparatus bay, the two nodded and whispered quietly to one another.

"My, my, Gertrude. What a fine looking firehouse and such nice looking young men too. We really ought to get out more often!"

"Oh dear, Ethel," she said, nudging her sister's shoulder. "It's a shame we aren't a bit younger!" The two women giggled.

The firefighters exchanged glances. They weren't sure how to respond to their visitors’ remarks.

"I do think we've caught them off guard, sister. You'll have to excuse us but we don't get out much and like to have a bit of fun while we're at it." The women giggled again and winked at each other. Soon the men joined in their laughter.

"Would you lovely ladies like a tour of the station?"

"That would be fine, thank you."

Hank escorted the women to his office to start their tour. They asked him dozens of questions. Their husbands had been firefighters many years previously and they were eager to see how things had changed. After talking quietly for several minutes, they soon found themselves in the dorm where Johnny continued their tour.

They were intrigued by the sleeping quarters and found the bunker pants to be a very interesting improvement on the uniforms worn by their husbands. The ladies couldn't help sharing with Johnny how their husbands had been brothers and other bits of information about their days in the fire service. By the time they reached the back lot, several more citizens had arrived.

The ladies had truly enjoyed seeing the station and its modern equipment.

"Thank you so much for showing us around."

"You young men do such a wonderful job."

"You're welcome," answered Roy. "And thank you. Now would you like some refreshments? There's one final part of our station and it's right through this door."

Ethel and Gertrude made their way towards Chet, who looked a little stunned when they immediately started asking him questions. Roy laughed and returned to the squad where five children had gathered. They were wide-eyed and full of questions of their own.

He walked toward the kids with a huge smile and warm greeting.

“Hey, guys. How ya’ doing?”

The five boys turned their attention towards the paramedic.

“What’s this truck for?” asked a red-haired boy, who seemed to be the leader.

“This here’s a rescue squad.”

“Cool.”

“Far-out”

“Neat,” came the varied responses.

“Do you rescue cats?” asked a schoolboy who was small for his age.

“Sometimes,” Roy answered,” but mostly people,” he chuckled.

“From fires?” asked another boy.

“Yep, car accidents, too.”

“Wow, is that hard?”

“No, not really. It takes patience though. Many times we need help from the guys on the rig.” Roy pointed towards Mike, who stood proudly by the driver’s door of the engine.

Mike just lifted a hand in acknowledgment.

“Cool, a real fire man!” The red-haired boy exclaimed.

“What’s your name?” Mike placed his hands on his upper legs and lean down towards the group of boys.

“Donald.”

“Donald. I’m Mike. But Roy here,” he pointed at his shiftmate, “is a fireman, too.”

“Really?” Donald and his friends looked back at the paramedic.

Roy shook his head in the affirmative.

“Really,” the engineer replied.

“Boys!” A tall blonde woman entered the building, a look plastered on her face which any child over the age of five would instantly know meant trouble. Behind her some fifteen other small children traipsed into the building. The teacher’s class had won a recent poster contest during fire prevention week at the elementary school, and the top prize was a trip to the open house of a local fire station. The soonest to take place had been Station 51’s. Though a few children couldn’t make it on the Saturday trip, most did.

“Mrs. Warren. We just…”

“You just ran ahead without me is what you did. You know you boys could’ve gotten into trouble or worse yet, injured.”

“But Roy and Mike would rescue us.”

The woman stopped in her tracks, with her worry for her young charges she’d forgotten she wasn’t in the school’s playground but in a very public firehouse. Her face immediately began to feel hot, and she was sure it was turning red with the two firemen looking from her students to her.

“I hope they weren’t too much trouble. These young men,” she once again threw the young boys a stern look, “tend to get a bit excited when we leave the school. Everything’s an adventure to them.”

“We understand.” Roy smiled. “It’s natural for boys to get excited about coming to a fire station. It’s a phenomenon really. I’m sure Mike,” he glanced towards Stoker, “was just like them. I know I was.”

“Couldn’t have kept me off the engine when I visited the station as a kid,” Mike offered.

“I am sorry to have them burst in on you.”

“They were no trouble at all. As a matter of fact, it’s still pretty slow around here so they provided us with something to do. Something I’m sure our captain is grateful for.”

The middle-aged woman smiled with relief at Roy’s words. Besides being concerned for the children’s welfare, she had been concerned for their safety. These five boys, the best of friends since kindergarten, had been a handful from the very first day of school. They were chatty and full of energy. Despite being a constant handful, Carol Warren enjoyed having these particular boys in her fifth grade class. They were inquisitive, intelligent, and could always be counted on to join in during all classroom discussions.

“Why don’t we give your entire class a tour of our trucks,” Roy recommended. “That is, after we give you each your own helmet.” He pointed to a large metal garbage can near the wall that was being used to hold the many red toy plastic fire helmets. The kids started to run over when their teacher reminded them to line up and each take one in an orderly fashion. Soon all the children had one on.

Over the next several minutes all twenty students gave Roy and Mike their full attention. Most of the kids had never been this close to a fire engine before and found its shiny knobs and valves fascinating. For the five young boys, who were collectively known as the five musketeers by the faculty at John F. Kennedy Elementary, the sparkling obstructions proved to be too much not to touch, turn and pull.

Mike, however, enjoyed the enthusiasm of the youngsters and found their questions relatively sophisticated for a group of ten-year olds. Soon the group had climbed all over and through the rig, had taken turns pulling on the air horn much to Mrs. Warren’s chagrin, and donned his jacket and helmet, removing the red plastic one only for that. They were currently being given the grand tour of the squad, while Mike turned his attention to a handful of teenage boys who’d just walked into the building.

Roy explained the squad’s equipment to the young group and allowed each to turn on its flashing lights. As much as he would have liked to allow the five musketeers the pleasure of speaking into the truck’s mic, he couldn’t since all channels were presently being used by companies on runs.

Within fifteen minutes of taking over the group from Mike, Roy steered them towards Chet and the dayroom.

E!E!E!E!

After a brief time with the teenage boys, Mike watched as three young women who appeared to be in their early twenties approached the engine, their eyes wide as they looked over the shiny red trucks in the apparatus bay.

“Oh wow,” one woman exclaimed. “They’re so. . .clean.”

“Can you imagine having to wash and wax that thing?” another asked as she stepped closer.

Mike listened with pride. It was a lot of work keeping big red looking like it just came out of the shop, but it was worth it, especially when he heard comments like theirs.

He noticed more people of varying ages following behind and alongside the girls. The local newspaper had run an advertisement about the open house, plus the firemen had posted notices at public bulletin boards here and there, thus word got around pretty well.

Roy returned to the front of the squad in time to greet an elderly couple who were not aware of the paramedic program at all.

“What can a truck this small do?” the man asked. “I don’t even see any hoses on it.”

Roy gave a warm smile. “No, sir, there aren’t any. You see, this isn’t a fire truck. It’s a rescue squad.”

With a chance to educate someone about paramedics and what they do, and the services available to the public, Roy directed the couple to the compartments with the equipment in them. He smiled as a few more people, including four teenaged boys, gathered nearby to listen and watch. 

E!E!E!E!

“Okay, did everybody get something to eat?” Chet asked the school children as they milled around the dayroom and kitchen area.

“Yes, sir,” came a multiple of replies.

He noticed four of the children weren’t eating, but rather holding their food as they watched a cartoon on TV, their red plastic helmets they’d gotten from Mike and Roy still in place on their heads.  

They come to see a neat place like this and the highlight’s gonna be what they could see at home anyway, he thought. Kids.

Two of the girls from the group were busy petting Henry and feeding him pieces of their snacks. Chet just shook his head. Henry was going to enjoy the open house more than any of the crew.

Suddenly a tug on his pant leg drew Chet’s attention away from the others. Looking down, he saw a brown-haired little boy about five years old gazing up at him, his red helmet tipped back some. The child’s mother was apparently busy selecting a snack from the layout on the table.

“Mr. Fireman, hows come your doggie don’t move?”

“He moves. See?” Chet said pointing. “His mouth just opened and he’s eating.”

“But hows come he don’t play? I trew a cookie an he din’t go after it.”

Great, we clean up the place and this kid tosses food on the floor. “Uh. . .don’t feel bad, kid. I tried to get him into a dog house with a bone and I ended up in it. . .he was still on the outside,” he snickered.

The blank look he got told him the kid didn’t appreciate his brief story.

“Guess ya had to be there. . .”

“Hey,” came another boy’s voice, drawing the fireman’s attention yet another way. Three of the ten-year-olds, two girls and a boy, were eyeing the kitchen area. When they saw Chet look in their direction, the girl asked, “Do firemen have someone cook for them?”

“I told her you gotta do it yourself,” the boy explained. 

“He’s right. We do it ourselves. Take turns.”

“Do firemen ever burn their food?” The other girl asked with a snicker, as if trying to make a joke.

“Nah, we’re the best cooks in town.” Suddenly he remembered Johnny and his usual hamburgers and hot dogs. “Most of us are, anyway.”

“Do you gotta wear an apron?” The first girl asked as she looked over at one hanging on a hook nearby.

“Oh. . .that. Well, when you get to the area where we sleep, you’re gonna meet the guy that apron belongs to. . .by default.” He walked over and held up the apron that read, ‘Genius at work’. “Only don’t let the words fool ya. It means the opposite of what it says.” He knew Johnny would wring his neck if he knew what he’d just said, but then where would the fun be without a fun jab at the pigeon now and then, even if the kids weren’t in on the joke.

“Who does the dishes?”

Chet pointed at the apron with a smile. He does them more than the rest of us anyway. . .

The three wandered off as their teacher, Mrs. Warren, began to get a head count of her students and other visitors wandered in.

E!E!E!E!

After a slow start in his area, Johnny was now busy with an assortment of visitors. At first he thought there wouldn’t be much to say about the dorm that would hold interest, but Ethel and Gertrude had demonstrated enough enthusiasm and interest to make him more confident that others would find it a worthwhile room to see as well.

As Johnny explained about the bunker pants again, he noticed a little four-year-old girl wearing one of the free plastic red helmets they were giving out, rocking back and forth, occasionally holding herself between the legs before adding a new dance step to her moves. Her mother seemed oblivious to the child’s dilemma as she listened to Johnny.

“Uh. . .I think someone might need to see the latrine,” he said with a smile and a nod toward the little girl.

The mother caught his hint and noticed her daughter’s actions. “Oh for pete’s sake, Carrie,” she stated, immediately grabbing the child by the hand. “Why didn’t you say something?” With an exasperated sigh, she gave a questioning look at Johnny, who pointed to the exit leading to the latrine.

“Thank you.” The mother and daughter hurried off, the little one with a hand once again between her legs and her helmet tipped to the side as she tried to keep up with her mom’s larger steps.

I’m sure glad the kid didn’t spring a leak, Johnny thought. He could only imagine mopping up that kind of a puddle with people looking on. As they disappeared into the other room, he hoped no men were inside, as he just recalled he should’ve checked first.

E!E!E!E!

Marco was busy explaining the hose rack to five boys who had wandered out to the back lot by themselves. Eager to see as much as possible, the five musketeers once again had split up from the rest of their group. They munched on snack food, their helmets still in place, as they listened.

Other visitors joined the group and soon the boys were obscured from view from behind.

E!E!E!E!

Mrs. Warren looked frantically around the dayroom, counting and recounting children.

"...twelve...thirteen...fourteen...fifteen. Fifteen. I'm missing five children! Five of my boys."

"It's all right, Ma’am. They can't have gone far," Chet offered. "Probably back in the bay looking at the engine. It's always a big draw, especially with the guys."

The frustrated and worried teacher looked at each child she had in front of her. "I should have known," she exclaimed. "Those boys are always up to something. They really know how to keep me on my toes."

Chet smiled. "Ah yes and at this age they just want to experience it all."

"Well, these five, Donald in particular, really like to go off on their own. It was my only concern about this special trip. You wouldn't mind keeping an eye on my students for me while I go after the others, would you?"

A feeling of unease settled on Chet as many pairs of eyes, mischievous pre-teen eyes, turned from their teacher to him. He continued to smile as he replied, "Sure. No problem." All the while he felt like he had just stepped in front of a firing squad. Several of the girls smiled up at him. One of the boys stuck out his tongue.

"Aaron Gilbert! I saw that and don't think I won't tell your parents about it."

"Sorry, Mrs. Warren."

"You need to apologize to the nice fireman here for your inexcusable behavior."

The boy looked properly chastised and scuffed his toe on the floor. "Sorry, Mister."

Mrs. Warren exited the dayroom in search of her missing charges. Chet stared at the children who stared back at him, red plastic helmets all at odd angles. One of the girls, who had been among the last to enter the room, raised her hand.

"Yes, Miss?"

She grinned. "Hiya. My name's Mary. Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure, Mary. Go ahead." Chet felt a bit anxious as he waited to find out what she wanted. All the girls were smiling and snickering.

The chubby brown-haired girl with freckles asked, "Are you maaar-riiied?" The last word she said slowly, dragging it out for effect. The rest of the girls giggled and whispered as they exchanged glances.

"Girls!" said Aaron in exasperation and wandered back over to Henry. The dog was enjoying the extra attention.

Chet did his best to keep from showing his distress as he answered. "No, Mary. I'm not." He tried to redirect the group's attention to the open house and the station. "Do you have any other questions about firefighting or the station?"

"Can we have another snack, Mister?" asked one of the remaining boys. He was eyeing the food table with great interest.

"I don't see why not. There's plenty of food," Chet replied with a sigh. A chance to ask a real fireman any question they want and they’re still more interested in the food, the dog, and the TV.

The kids busied themselves with snacks and doting on Henry. Chet was glad after all that they found things other than him to occupy themselves with. He hoped the teacher hurried back. He wasn't keen on babysitting duty. Looking up he found himself the object of little Mary's intent gaze. She was staring at him and munching on her cookie.

E!E!E!E!

 

Entering the main bay Mrs. Warren looked about in hopes of spying the boys by the fire engine. No such luck. She looked more intently as she walked around the large crowded area. Her expression caught Mike's attention.

"Something I can help you with?"

"Oh, I hope so. Five of my boys have gone missing. I had hoped they were out here by the trucks, but I don't see them."

"Five boys? I remember them from earlier. Have you checked the dorm or the latrine?"

She shook her head. "Not yet."

"I'll help. Roy, can you take over? I'm going to help Mrs. Warren find her wayward students."

"Sure, Mike. Maybe they're with Marco."

Mike nodded. A quick check of the dorm and latrine turned up several children but none of them were the missing fifth graders. They headed towards the back lot but the crowd was more dense and it was harder to see. The engineer yelled and waved to get his colleague's attention. Marco had just finished explaining how hose was washed and dried and headed over to Mike.

"Hey man. What's up?"

"We're missing a couple of boys."

"Five of them," added the teacher.

"You know I had a group of boys up front while I was explaining how we take care of the hoses. They asked a lot of questions."

"Sounds like my boys. Did you see which way they went?"

The crowd was dispersing slowly and Mike could see a group of red plastic helmets moving towards the hose rack. By the time they reached them, Donald was several steps up the ladder.

"Donald Jones! Get down from there this instant!"

The boy froze at the sound of his teacher's command. Donald knew by that tone that he was in deep trouble with her this time.

"What on earth do you think you were doing?"

"I just wanted to see - "

The other boys were looking back and forth between their teacher and their friend. They were glad they weren't in trouble with him this time. Mrs. Warren seemed quite upset.

"You could have fallen! You could have been hurt--" She was about to go on when he interrupted.

"Nah, I wouldn't have fallen. I'm a real good climber. I climb lotsa stuff at home. You should have seen me - "

Mike chose this moment to speak up. "Your teacher is right. The hose rack isn't a good place for young men to explore. I'm sure you are a good climber but it wouldn't have been much fun if you had gotten hurt. It would have ruined the visit for you and your friends. Know what I mean?"

Donald liked Mike. He got to drive the big red fire truck and that was cool. He thought about it and replied, "Yeah. I guess you're right." To his teacher he said, "I'll behave for the rest of the visit, Mrs. Warren. I promise."

She shook her head. "All right. Let's get back to the rest of the class and finish the tour." All the while she was thinking how nice it would be to get back home. She'd had enough 'field trip' to last until summer.

E!E!E!E!

Johnny was beginning to think his portion of the tour wasn't as interesting to the general public as the rest of the station was after all. The number of visitors had dwindled in the last few minutes. It made sense for it not to be. The dorm wasn't what everyone visiting a fire station really wanted to see.

He sighed as he fluffed up the pillow on the nearest bed for the third time when he heard the sound of many feet approaching. He looked up to see the fifth grade class enter the dorm. Johnny smiled and prepared to make this as interesting as he could.

E!E!E!E!

Chet smiled as he recalled the moment Mrs. Warren gathered her class together at the doorway when they prepared to move on. It was a relief to have the fifth graders out from under his charge; especially little Mary, whose gaze hadn’t left him for as much as a second.

Good thing no one saw that, or they’d never let me live it down. . .

Just as that thought crossed his mind, he looked up to see Captain Stanley walk into the room.

Hey, Cap assigned *us* all duties. . .but I wonder what *his* role has been in all this. . .?

“Can we have as much as we want?”

Chet faintly heard the question as it interrupted his thoughts and turned to see two teenage boys near the food, their paper plates already full.

“Huh? Oh. . .well, let’s leave a little for someone else, huh guys?”

“Sure,” one shrugged and he started to place his chosen items back on platters one by one.

Chet’s mouth dropped open in disbelief. “Man, don’t put it back!” He quickly reached out and went to work returning the food to the kid’s plate. “You already fingered it, man, keep it.”

The boys stepped away and stood against a wall where they ate their goodies. In the meantime, the captain approached his crewman.

“Well, it looks like things are going smoothly in here.”

“They sure are. It’s been a breeze, Cap.”

“What happened to your little girlfriend?”

The fireman blanched. How did Captain Stanley know about that? Had one of the others peeked in and saw her staring. . .no, gazing. . .at him and was now telling everyone else on the crew?  He got his answer, the expression on his face obviously read by the senior officer.

“Relax, Kelly.  I’m just giving you a hard time. I started to come in to see how you were doing, and I noticed her eyes locked on you. I’ve seen that look before. . .I figured I’d come back when your admirer was gone. Didn’t want to ruin it for the little lady.”

“You didn’t tell the others, did you?”

“Of course not. And I won’t.”

Chet breathed a sigh of relief, then looked in surprise at the captain when he added, “Not unless you give me reason to.”

This could be hanging over him for a long time. . .

E!E!E!E!

Johnny was enjoying the young visitors. Having gotten more experience with fifth graders from a tour he gave at Rampart General Hospital awhile back, he knew more of what to expect from the age group now. The paramedic introduced himself, gave a brief overview of the room and allowed for the kids to ask questions on what they would find interesting. However, the first question asked by one girl wasn’t what he’d had in mind.

 “Are you really the dishwasher?”

Now who woulda. . .Chet. . .

Johnny grinned slightly. “I see you’ve met fireman Kelly.”

The girl nodded.

“So have I,” Mary responded in a dreamy voice. Her head tilted to the side, she looked as if she was a million miles away in thought.

Johnny’s grin widened, as he knew exactly what that look meant.

I think I know how to get back at Chet. . .when the time is right. . .

Addressing the first question, he answered, “We do have to clean up after ourselves while we’re here or you’d come in and see dishes piled high, beds unmade, dirty floors. And that wouldn’t be a very nice place to visit, now would it?”

The children all shook their heads ‘no’. The sea of red helmets moving in sync brought an even wider smile to the paramedic’s face.

“Next question?”

A boy raised his hand and Johnny pointed toward him.

“How do you see at night when you get woke up for a fire?”

“The lights come on at the sound of the tones. That’s when we get right out of bed, pull up our bunker pants at the same time we step in our boots and off we go. Unless the call is just for the engine or us. Then whoever it’s not for stays here and goes back to bed.”

“Is it easy to wake up?” another boy asked.

“You get used to it, so yeah, it really is.”

“Do you get to climb really high when you go?” Donald wondered.

“Well, now, that all depends on what’s at the place where we’re goin’. But we’ve had to go do some rescues in high places, even at night.”

“Cool!”

Not when you’re hanging on the side of a building by a rope, Johnny thought.

There were a few more questions, and then Mrs. Warren led her group out to the apparatus bay. It was time for them to leave. Mike and Roy were busy explaining stuff on both emergency vehicles, but each gave a quick wave to the kids as they lined up just outside the station. After a quick headcount, the teacher realized she once again was short five kids. With a sigh, she had the others wait by the engine while she stepped back into the dorm.

A family with three small children were listening to Johnny as he answered more questions about climbing and rescues to the five musketeers.

The paramedic was fine with the subject even though it had nothing to do with the dorm room. At least it held their interest.

“Boys!”

The small group turned to see their teacher standing in the doorway with her arms across here chest.

Donald exchanged uh oh glances with his buddies.

“These are yours?” Johnny asked.

“They sure are.”

“I saw ‘em come in with you, but since they stayed behind, figured they might’ve belonged to someone else.”

“That’s okay. This is the third time they’ve gotten away from the rest of us since we got off the school bus.”

“School? On a Saturday?”  Johnny cocked an eyebrow as he waited for the explanation that was obviously coming.

“Well, they aren’t actually in school today. . .” She went on to explain about the contest and how they’d won the school-sponsored trip to the open house. Johnny looked at the boys in wonder.

“I’m impressed! Your class must’ve really done a good job.”

“We wanna be firemen!” Jimmy Hatfield offered.

The other four nodded enthusiastically in agreement.

“Well, you’re certainly headed in the right direction.”

“And speaking of heading in the right direction, we’d better get back to the rest of the class before I lose them.”

“Right. Congratulations again, guys. Keep up the good work.”

He then brought his attention to the other guests in the room while Mrs. Warren and the boys left.

E!E!E!E!

After getting one more chance to talk to Roy and Mike and see the trucks, the fifth graders left. This time the five buddies walked behind the rest of their classmates, occasionally glancing over their shoulders at the station as they approached the bus.

Once on the vehicle, they and Mary peered out at the red brick building as they passed by; the boys wishing they could’ve stayed all day, Mary wishing Chet was in their class.

E!E!E!E!

By late afternoon, the open house had come to a close and the men were left to tidy up the station. Sandy Doyle was there to help as promised. She’d stopped in a few times during the open house to refill some of the food trays and took out some empty dishes then, which helped make for a little less work now.

“You cater small parties?” Chet wondered as he, Johnny and Marco helped to carry out some of her supplies.

“What’d you have in mind?”

“Oh. . .maybe. . .um. . .” he was stuck for words. It was intended as way to ask her out, but now that he thought about it, this was hardly the way to bring it up. Not to mention, he would set himself up for a turndown in front of the others if she said no. “I was just wondering.”

“Okay, well, I’ve catered to ten at the least. Does that help?”

Chet nodded. “Sure.”

Johnny was eyeing him knowingly. His time for revenge was almost there.

After they’d put everything in Sandy’s vehicle, they watched her pull away. Gage clapped a hand on Chet’s shoulder and said, “She’s outta your league, man. You’d better stick to the younger girls. They seem to like ya.”

He giggled and walked away with Marco. Chet stood with a bewildered expression on his face. Aaawww man. . .he knows. . .

E!E!E!E!

Captain Stanley sat in his office going over the C-Shift runs from the previous day with Captain Hookraider. He could hear the voices of his crew mingled with those of the crew currently on duty. He could tell by their inflections that his men felt as rested and relaxed as he did. He assumed it was not only a reflection of their four days off, but their last shift as well.

It had been years since Hank had been a part of a community open house and he’d forgotten how enjoyable it could be. It deemed even more so this time around as a captain. With no prescribed chore, he’d been able to freely roam the station, greeting their guests, answering questions about all aspects of fire fighting and the firehouse. The open house had lasted well into the later part of the afternoon and with the hour headquarters had allowed for clean up, it was practically dinnertime before they had been put back on duty.

The rest of that evening had been rather slow with only a fire and helping the squad with a man whom had been electrocuted. Then they’d responded to another fire just before change of shift. Actually, they had been on that call until almost ten o’clock in the morning making their shift a few hours longer then normal, but none of his crew complained. They never did when going over time. It was a regular occurrence in their line of work, not just for them, but throughout the entire department. Departments all over the world faced this issue as it was just a part of the job.

“That’s it, Hank. It was a slow day followed by a busy night.”

“Why don’t you and your crew clock out a bit early, I’m sure all my guys are here,” Captain Stanley offered.

“You sure?”

“Positive. Go home and get some sleep, you look wiped.”

“You don’t have to ask me twice.” Captain Hookraider smiled while getting up and out from behind his desk.

The two men walked out of the office and into the dayroom together.

Looking around the room and making sure all of A-Shift was present and accounted for Captain Hookraider piped up, “Okay fellas, Captain Stanley has graciously offered to come on board early, so hurry up and get out of here before a call comes in.”

“Great!”

“Fantastic!”

“Thanks, Capt’n Stanley.”

“No problem. Enjoy your days off,” Hank replied.

The C-Shift commander gave Hank a gentle slap on the back and offered his thanks once again before heading back into the office. Hank followed closely behind, stopping at the communication area beside the squad and quickly informed headquarters that Station 51’s A-Shift was now in command.

While C-shift filed out of the building A-shift stood in the bay going over the day that lay ahead.

“…And that’s it for chores. But, before you head off, guys, I received a note from the chief,” he explained before going ahead and reading it out loud.

“Dear Hank, just a little note to commend you on your open house during your previous shift. Thanks to the hard work of you and your capable men it proved to be a rousing success. Headquarters has received a few phone calls over the last few days regarding your tours, it seems those who took the time to send us feedback thoroughly enjoyed themselves. Most mentioned how professional the firemen were and how knowledgeable as well. That’s always good to hear. We also received a note from a class from John F. Kennedy Elementary, I’m forwarding that along to you. Please pass along my congratulations to your men, as well as a thank you for the professional manner you and your men always uphold when dealing with the public. Your crew always does us proud, Hank. Sincerely, Chief McConikee.”


“Wow, that’s great.” Marco returned the smile of his captain.

“It is. Let’s go get some coffee and read the letter from Mrs. Warren,” Hank offered.

The group headed into the day room and coffees were passed out while each took a seat at the table. Lowering himself into a chair last, Hank opened the sealed envelope, unfolded the letter and began to read it aloud.

“Dear Firemen of Station fifty-one, We would like to take this opportunity to thank you for your hospitality during our tour at your open house. We had a wonderful time and learned a few things too. The children are still finding it hard to believe that you work a whole twenty-four hours, although they think it’s neat you have a living room with a television at the station. The class as a whole, with the exception of Mary, insists that the best part of the tour was getting to go inside the fire engine. Mr. Stoker’s allowing them to blow the horn was the highlight. Mary insists the highlight was the kitchen. She seems fascinated that you men cook your own meals. Once again, thank you for your kindness and patience with my class. Our principal, Mr. Beaumont, extends an invitation for you to come to our school to perhaps display your trucks and equipment for the entire student body one day. Sincerely yours, Mrs. Warren’s Fifth Grade Class.”

“That’s nice.” Roy shook his head.

“Can you imagine, with all there is around here and little Mary’s fascinated with the kitchen?” Marco questioned.

“Yeah, well, she’s a girl,” Mike offered.

“Maybe she finds a cooking fireman fascinating more than the actual kitchen.” Johnny smirked at Chet.

“Well, it doesn’t surprise me that Mike was a big hit,” Hank broke in feeling a little sorry for Kelly, noticing a look of panic forming on the fireman’s face.

“The hit wasn’t me, Cap, it was the engine,” Mike confessed.

“Not all engineers allow the kids to blow that horn, Mike,” Hank replied.

”Station 51…three car accident…235 Ridgefield…cross street Nixon…235 Ridgfield…cross street Nixon…time out 7:56”.

All the men were on their feet and at their respective vehicles in no time, with the exception of Roy and Hank. Roy quickly looked over the map on the wall while Hank acknowledged the call from dispatch.

E!E!E!E!

Within six minutes the crew had arrived on scene. Hank quickly set about dispensing orders and then quickly turned his attention to a member of the Los Angeles County Police who was on scene.

“Captain, there’s a pregnant woman in the Honda, two adults in the Citation, and an adult and child in the Ford.”

“Thanks, officer Drake,” Hank replied while glancing at the patrolman’s nametag. “Can you contain this crowd for us?”

“Sure can.”

While Marco hosed down the vehicles, Roy and Chet set to work extricating the pregnant woman from her vehicle. It was a fairly routine situation, but Roy was taking his time since the woman was expecting.

Johnny quickly approached the Citation and pulled the driver’s side door open, “Hey, how you guys doing?”

“Fine I think. My knee hurts a little. Tom says he’s okay.” The older man looked at his passenger.

“Kay, let me take a quick look at your knee. What’s your name?” Johnny asked while tucking on the elder man’s pant leg.

“Gerald.”

“Gerald, I’m John. Your knee looks okay.” He smiled after a quick feel of the knee and before bellowing, “Cap!” over his shoulder.

Captain Stanley was at his side in an instant. “Cap, this is Gerald, his knees a little banged up but I think it’s okay. Deep bruise maybe. Could you help him out and get him over to the squad? I’m gonna do a quick check on his passenger and then move over to the Ford.”

“You got it, Pal.”

“Gerald, I’m Captain Stanley, can you put your arm around my shoulder? Great that’s it. John just wants you out of the car and over to our vehicle, kay.”

Johnny quickly came around the vehicle to Tom. “How ya doing, Tom?”

“Good, I’m okay. Nerves are a bit shot.” He threw Johnny a quick smile.

“I imagine they are. You okay to move over to our squad?”

“Yes, sir.”

“No sirs, I don’t rank high enough,” Johnny smiled at Tom before looking around at his crewmates. Deciding Roy was in need of Chet’s help, he wanted the captain to stay with Gerald, and Captain Stanley would want Marco to continue hosing down the vehicles as a precaution. He turned his attention to their engineer.

“Mike!”

The second in command was quickly at his side, “What da’ need, John?”

“Can you help Tom here over to the squad to Cap?”

“Sure.”

With that out of the way Johnny sprinted to the remaining car. Glancing in the windshield, he noticed a young man behind the wheel. Coming to the driver’s door he gave it a sharp tug, nothing. He did a quick survey of the back seat and noticed a small child on the floor. Moving a few feet he pulled on the rear passenger door and it opened without protest.

“Hey there. What’s your name?” He asked the obviously frightened child.

The young girl just looked at him with wide open watery eyes.

“Are you hurt?”

The young child held her finger up for Johnny’s inspection. His experienced eye knew the finger to be broken without having to touch it. While sitting on the back seat, Johnny asked the man in front, “You okay, sir?”

“I think my leg’s broken, how’s Darlene?”

“So far not too bad.” Turning his attention to the small child again, he said, “Darlene, my name’s Johnny. I’m a paramedic, do you know what that is?”

Darlene shook her head no.

“That’s just a fancy name for a fireman, you know what that is, right?”

Darlene shook her head yes and was rewarded with a lopsided grin.

“Okay, I’m just going to feel your arms and legs for a minute. Is that okay?” When Darlene didn’t respond he decided to forge ahead anyway. A quick palpation exam determined no other broken bones. He quickly set about checking her abdomen and vital signs, as well as checking for any head injuries. He found none and then turned his attention to her father.

Soon enough all victims were treated and headed to Rampart, with both Roy and Johnny accompanying victims in separate ambulances while Chet followed behind in the squad.

E!E!E!E!

Chet sat at a table in the nurses’ lounge, a cup of coffee in front of him. A young nurse on break sat across from him, politely supplying chit chat, though the fireman felt that pulling teeth would be easier than getting a conversation from the girl.

Suddenly the lounge door opened and in walked Johnny and Roy, having turned their patients over to the capable hands of doctors and refilled the necessary supplies. The nurse saw her opportunity to exit and quickly excused herself as she got up from the table and headed for the door, giving a brief ‘hello’ to the paramedics as she brushed by.

Once she was out of the room, the two looked to Chet.

“What’dya say to ‘er to make her leave like that?” Johnny wondered.

“I was just making conversation,” the fireman said in self defense. “Maybe you two scared her off.”

Before either could protest, he continued with, “Man, I really need to see about changing jobs. You guys have it made,” he added, glancing around. “You can just sit here and drink coffee, and no one’s gonna say a word about it.”

“Well, we don’t,” Johnny stated with annoyance.

“But you could.”

Johnny rolled his eyes, and shook his head as he turned to his partner. “Do you believe him?” But just like Chet, the younger paramedic didn’t allow time for an answer, as he addressed the mustached fireman. “At least I can keep the attention of a girl that’s over ten and not have her finding the first opportunity to be out the door.”

“Hey!”

Roy gave up on having any part of the conversation and turned to leave, the small box of supplies in his hands. “I’ll be waiting in the squad when you two are done.”

“I’m right behind ya,” Johnny stated.

Not wanting to be a step behind Gage in any form, Chet jumped out of his seat and joined them, a smile plastered on his face, though inside was a slight turmoil.

Why did Mary hafta get a crush on *me*. . .? he thought mournfully to himself. This kind of stuff is only supposed to happen to Gage . . .

Part 2