Roy slammed his foot down onto the brakes – barely managing to keep the squad from plowing into the other side of the ambulance, which had been spun around and left sitting at a skewed angle in the intersection by the impact of a garbage truck.

Grabbing the mike, he shouted: "LA – This is Squad 51 requesting back up. We have a code E! at the scene...traffic accident involving the ambulance transporting possible heart attack victim. Respond an engine, additional ambulance and a second squad to the 1800 block of Western!"

"10-4, 51..."

Roy didn't wait to hear the rest of the response. Throwing open his door, he leaped from the squad and headed at a mad dash toward the ambulance.

Already spectators and ‘good Samaritans’ were gathering. As he neared, he saw the driver of the ambulance get out...shaking his head at the mess.

"I couldn't get out of his way..." he called out.

"What about Gracie?" Roy questioned.

"Shaken up – got some bumps – otherwise, okay, I think," the driver responded, making his way to the passenger side of the ambulance.

Roy reached the back of the crumbled ambulance – and yanked on the doors.

"Johnny? Johnny – you okay in there?"

"Oh my Lord...oh my Lord!" Gracie's voice trembled as the attendant helped her from the ambulance. "They're dead! Oh my Lord...they're dead...!"

Roy stood on the rear bumper of the ambulance and pulled on the rear doors as hard as he could, but the doors were so mangled, they wouldn't budge. The garbage truck had gone over the bumper of the smaller vehicle and compressed the cabin area. He jumped back to the ground and went to the side to try to see in the window.

"They're dead!" Gracie cried again when she saw Roy. "I know they’re dead!" She leaned weakly against the attendant.

Roy stood next to her to offer his support while he took in her cuts and abrasions. She seemed to be okay. "Gracie, I want you to calm down. We won't know anything until we can get inside. Okay? Now calm down. Are you hurting anywhere?"

Gracie put a frail hand over her mouth in an effort to stifle her sobs. She shook her head.

"Okay." Roy looked to the attendant. "Take her over and let her sit in the squad. Keep an eye on her and let me know if you need me."

Roy didn't wait for the attendant's answer, instead, he tried to see into the side window. The window had been compressed to a slit just a few inches high. The stretcher lay diagonally with one end pushed higher. Equipment had been thrown everywhere and the jumpseat had buckled, blocking any view of the inside.

Roy ran to the front and climbed over the seat that Gracie had vacated. He heard a moan and a weak cry as he peered through the small window. The view he had was disturbing. The other attendant who'd been riding in the jump seat was pinned to the front of the compartment by the buckled jump seat. He began to moan in pain as he regained consciousness.

Edna, still strapped to the nearly up-ended stretcher, looked back and forth from the attendant to Roy. Tears ran from her eyes in terror.

Roy finally spotted Johnny's blue uniform pants under all the clutter. He was lying against the back doors of the ambulance, and under the uprooted stretcher. Roy looked helplessly at the small window wishing he could get through it. He was so close. He spoke to Edna as calmly as he could.

"Edna, are you okay? Did you get hurt anywhere?" The distraught woman continued to cry softly. "Edna!" He spoke with more force, making her look at him. "Have you been hurt by the accident?"

She shook her head, but still didn't speak.

Roy pulled his head from the window and jumped from the vehicle, listening for sirens. He noticed the driver of the garbage truck pacing back and forth nervously. Their eyes met and a flash of anger flared inside Roy toward the man who had caused all this damage. At the look on Roy's face, the man turned way.

Roy sent the ambulance driver to get a crowbar from the squad to try and pry the back doors open. "Sure thing, Roy," the driver called back. "You already call for another ambulance?"

"Yeah," Roy confirmed. As he turned his attention back to Edna and Johnny, the pile of rubble on Johnny began to move, and he heard a deep intake of breath. Johnny sat up slowly, leaning on the back doors of the ambulance. His right eye was already swelling.

Edna startled again, then found her voice. "Oh, thank the Good Lord! Somebody go tell Gracie he’s okay."

"You okay, Johnny?" Roy asked, climbing further into the ambulance and giving Johnny a visual once-over.

Johnny nodded and sighed heavily, looking around. "How is everyone else?"

"Shaken up, but okay. Now answer my question. Are you okay? You’re getting a black eye…"

"I just got the wind knocked out of me. And I whacked my face something hard." He gingerly fingered the swollen tissue under his eye, and then began taking Edna’s pulse as Rampart came back over the biophone asking for an update on her condition.

Johnny fumbled for the biophone. "Stand by, Rampart." Johnny recognized Gracie’s sobs, "I got it handled in here, Roy. Can you go check on Gracie? She must be really shaken up."

"Move away from the doors, okay? Chuck’s going to see if he can pop those doors open. You’re sure you’re okay? You didn’t lose consciousness at all?"

Johnny chucked softly and shook his head. "I wish! No, I was painfully aware of every moment…Go check on Gracie, will ya’?" He searched through the clutter for his stethoscope, and prepared to reconnect the leads to Edna to send Rampart another strip.

He heard the wail of another siren approaching, informed Rampart that the ambulance had arrived, and gave them a new ETA. He saw Edna staring at his face, and he blushed slightly, lightly touching his face again. "Does my eye look that bad?" he joked gently.

"Hmm? Oh, no, well, you’ll have a shiner all right. No, I was just thinking…Gracie was right. You do look a lot like her Arthur."

"Her son?" Johnny asked, thinking that might explain a few things.

"No, her husband. He passed on about 20 years ago. Killed in a car wreck just after he retired. I never met him, but I’ve sent their wedding pictures. He was quite handsome." It was her turn to blush.

Roy led Gracie over to the squad and helped her into the passenger seat, leaving the door open so he could talk to her. He spoke softly to help calm her down. "Johnny and Edna are going to be just fine. Edna was strapped safely in that gurney and Johnny is updating the hospital right now. Both the ambulance attendants are okay, too. Now, are you sure you didn’t get hurt at all?"

Gracie sniffed and her voice shook. "I’m just so useless! Old and useless! I can’t even bake cookies without burning myself! Then I just stood in the doorway at Edna’s…I couldn’t even move! Then this wreck, and I just fell apart! I’m no good to anyone any more!" She cried softly, looking down at her shoes.

Roy smiled with empathy. It must be awful to be old and live alone, away from family. Johnny had also said it was hard at times for him to live alone at Christmas.

"Well, Jennifer’s class is very excited to work on those gingerbread houses. They are certainly counting on your expertise."

Gracie dabbed her eyes with a well-worn handkerchief from her housecoat pocket, and looked at Roy to judge his sincerity. His concern and affection seemed genuine. "They are? Really?"

"Yes. In fact, they start them today. I’m really sorry for the short notice… today is the 19^th already. They really could use your help."

The squad pulled in to Rampart just a few seconds after the ambulance. As Roy deftly backed into the ambulance entrance, Gracie watched from her window. The young paramedic who looked so much like Arthur now had a large lump on the upper part of his right cheekbone and his eye was beginning to swell shut. She noticed that it didn’t seem to detract from his attentiveness to Edna as he lifted the gurney carefully down from the back of the ambulance.

Edna looked up at Gracie staring out at her from the passenger side of the squad and waved. Gracie waved back. Edna’s color looked better and she seemed much better to Gracie than she had when she first went over and saw her lying so helpless on the floor.

"I do hope she’s going to be okay," Gracie lamented aloud.

Roy looked over at her. "Well, with such an attentive neighbor watching out for her, how can she not be?"

"Well, she is the one who usually watches out for me…" Gracie’s voice trailed off.

"From now on, you will just have to watch out for each other." Roy smiled kindly at Gracie as he opened her door and extended a hand to help her down from the seat of the squad.

She took his hand and returned his smile. "My, but you are a nice looking man. Did you say you were married? Oh, yes, of course you are. You were talking about your daughter! The memory is just not what it used to be…Darn, I left my walking stick at the house!"

"Well, we can get you a wheel chair…" Roy motioned towards the entrance.

"Bite your tongue!" Gracie replied, and before Roy could respond, she was already two steps ahead of him, marching boldly through the automatic doors in her pink quilted housecoat.

Roy paused a moment and smiled. Edna had better be okay if she knew what was good for her.

Gracie sat in the waiting room and considered her white and wrinkled hands. The nice looking paramedic with the reddish hair had just gone to get her a cup of coffee; the young man who looked like Arthur had not yet emerged from the treatment room where Edna had been wheeled. She knew she was not allowed in just yet and it worried her so, but the ‘thumbs up’ sign she had gotten from Young Arthur had reassured her more than she would have imagined.

Now the waiting began. It had only been ten minutes and she was normally very good at waiting, but this was different. This was her best friend. Why couldn’t she have been there for Edna this morning? So close and yet so far. She made a vow to keep closer tabs on her. It wasn’t as if she was busy or anything.

She considered the suggestion about the gingerbread houses. Maybe that was just what she needed. It would get her over feeling sorry for herself. She studied her hands again and thought of Arthur. He would want her to do something useful…

"Hey!"

Gracie jumped at the enthusiastic greeting and looked up into the grinning face of Young Arthur. "Oh!"

"Sorry to startle you!" Johnny said, plunking down into the chair beside hers, "But I just wanted to tell you that Edna is going to be fine! They are just going to keep her a while for observation."

"Oh, thank the Lord!" Gracie brought both hands to her mouth and trembled. "I was so afraid she…she…might…"

"Well, don’t you worry…" Johnny considered the trembling, fragile old woman beside him for a moment and then reached out to gently pull one hand away from her face. He took the cold hand between his two warm ones and squeezed gently.

Gracie looked up into his face and studied the ugly swollen eye, noticing for the first time that his eyes were brown – a deep, warm brown. Just like her husband’s. His reassuring smile comforted her and she finally gave in to a flood of tears.

Roy headed down the hall with the coffee when he spotted his partner comforting Gracie. As he got a bit closer he debated walking the other way rather than disturb them, but a look from Johnny convinced him that maybe he was in need of some relief.

Roy cleared his throat softly. "Um, Gracie, here’s your coffee."

Gracie reluctantly pulled her hand away from Johnny’s, and accepted the steaming cup. She took one long sip and then handed it back to Roy. Roy took the cup without question and the two men made eye contact. Gracie removed the worn hankie from the pocket of her housecoat and quietly blew her nose.

"Gracie, if you are going to be okay, we need to get back to work. We are still on duty until we get the squad back to the station, so we can’t stay here…" Roy said, trying to be gentle yet firm. He reached into his pocket and pulled a five-dollar bill from his wallet, pressing it into her hand and closing her fingers gently around it. "I want you to take a cab home when you are ready…after you have had a chance to visit with Edna. And when you get home, why don’t you think of going over to Jennifer’s school and helping with those gingerbread houses. Johnny will come by and pick you up. Right, Johnny?"

Johnny shot Roy a look. "Ah…"

Gracie looked up at Johnny and waited.

"That’s right! I love kids! I am really good with kids! And we’ll be a team…a threesome, I mean. You see, my partner here is helping too, since it’s HIS daughter’s class," Johnny responded, the word ‘his’ coming from between clenched teeth.

"Oh, I would like that so much!" Gracie stood up smiled broadly at both men. "I have all sorts of candy to bring for decorating!" She stared at Johnny for a long moment. "You need to put some ice on the face of yours or you will scare those children right away!"

"Well, the kids will want to hear all about it, you can bet that. I am sure Johnny will be the center of attention. In one way or another…" Roy’s voice trailed off and he carefully avoided the stare he knew would be forthcoming from his partner.

"Well, okay, then. I will visit with Edna and take a cab home. What time will you be over, young man?"

"Johnny. Call me Johnny." Johnny found himself grinning in spite of himself, forgetting all about all the stupid and silly runs of the previous 24 hours. He even forgot about the mud in his boots. "How about noon?"

"Okay, Johnny. Take care of that eye." Gracie stepped up on her tiptoes and kissed Johnny’s good cheek, stopping to give his face a little pat with her hand, which was now warm. "And don’t forget to shave."

"She's got a crush on you, you know," Roy laughed as they headed back out to the squad.

"Oh, ha, ha, Roy, very funny," Johnny said as he got into the squad. "She's a little too old for me. She could be my grandmother, for cryin' out loud! And another thing, why couldn't you pick her up and take her to Jennifer's school? Huh? It's not that I don't mind picking her up, it's just that all she does is stare at me. And now she's telling me not to forget to shave. She makes it sound like I'm her personal property or something! What is she gonna do when we get to the school and start making the cookies? Make a Johnny Gingerbread cookie? Can you just see it? A cookie that looks like me. And what if she puts my name on it? Huh? Everyone will start calling me 'Johnny Gingerbread'. Man, I'd be the laughing stock of the department if that happened, and God forbid if Chet finds out. He'll torment me with that until the day I die!" Johnny ranted on without so much as a breath in between sentences.

Roy just stared at him, listening to his tirade before starting up the engine. "How do you do that? How can you possibly get all that out in one breath?"

"Huh?" Johnny got sidetracked from his ranting and turned to Roy with a fuming look on his face. "Let's just get back to the station so we can finish this shift and get this cookie thing going and done with. And you mention one word of this to Chet, and I'm transferring to another station!" Johnny glared murderously at Roy to make his point.

"You're flattering yourself for no reason. That's probably not even going to happen," Roy said.

"Yeah, whatever. Just drive." Johnny dismissed it with a wave in the air.

"Anything you say, Junior. And remember, don't forget to shave," Roy smirked. "We wouldn't Gracie to be disappointed in you, now would we"?

"Oh, shut up, Roy," Johnny scowled and turned to look out the window. "I look like her husband." His voice was so quiet, Roy barely heard him.

Roy did a quick double take to see if Johnny was kidding. His slightly miserable expression suggested he wasn’t. "You what? You look like her husband?"

Johnny nodded slowly. "Yeah…Edna told me. I guess I look like her husband Arthur…when he was young, of course. He was killed in a car wreck, of all things."

Roy raised an eyebrow as they approached the station. "Wow. That’s probably why she lost it when she saw you in a heap in the back of the ambulance."

Johnny nodded back. "Yeah, I’m thinking the same thing. Roy, I want her to feel good and useful, and not feel old and alone for Christmas. But if she starts reliving her youth, and I’m Arthur…Well, then she’s just in for more heartache."

Roy considered what Johnny said. "Well, then you know what? Getting her involved with the community is even more important. She’s been calling us with false alarms for company, and you look like, um..."

"Arthur..." Johnny filled in.

"Yeah, Arthur. So, she needs to get out into the world again. And this is a good start." Roy backed the squad into the station.

Johnny got out of the squad stiffly. "Man, I am looking forward to one long hot shower."

"Yeah, we need you in good shape for gingerbread time!" Roy grinned from ear to ear.

Johnny grimaced as he studied his reflection in the mirror of his apartment. His right eye was completely closed and the surrounding tissue was a deep reddish purple.

"Man…" He forced a smile to see if the image in the mirror looked at all friendly, but it quickly turned back to a frown. "I am going to scare those kids…" he mumbled to himself.

Walking into the kitchen he snatched a soon-to-be overripe banana and pealed it. Half of the banana disappeared in the first bite and he bent down to rummage around the bottom drawer beside the sink. He pulled out several threadbare kitchen towels and a handful of loose sandwich baggies before finding what he was looking for. "Ah." Pulling it out, he unfolded it and smiled as he read the front.

"Kiss the cook."

Putting the apron over his head, he tied the strings in the back and headed back into the bathroom to see if he looked a bit friendlier. He smiled at his reflection again, and then frowned. How had he let Roy rope him into this one? Usually it was the other way around. Surely he had something to do today…presents to wrap, girls to call…He was tired and his face hurt. Now he had a senior citizen who thought he reminded her of her long-deceased husband. She was so needy, and it must be such a hard time of year to be alone. He thought about his grandmother who had died when he was ten. She used to call him ‘Little Scrapper’ because he was always so feisty and intense. He vividly remembered her telling him how he was going to be the bravest of the brave if he ever made it to adulthood in one piece.

He started as he caught his reflection in the mirror again, realizing that he was smiling. Even the smile couldn’t disguise the big bruise on his face, however, and he was definitely going to have to tell the whole story of the accident to the kids.

"The kids! Shoot!" He glanced down at his watch. It was 11:50.

He dashed out of his apartment without bothering to take the apron off.

"They're coming! They're coming! Pretty soon they're coming!" Jennifer DeSoto sang out as she danced around the classroom.

"Jennifer, you need to calm down..." her teacher, Ms. Hawkins instructed firmly but softly, "or you'll scared our guests away..."

"Oh, no, teacher – my Uncle Johnny isn't scared of anything! He's super-duper brave – just like my Daddy!" Jennifer called out.

"Yes...perhaps so...but our other guests might not be used to little girls jumping all about..." Ms. Hawkins replied.

"Okay, teacher..." Jennifer said, trying hard not to wiggle and squirm after taking her seat again. She was helping to decorate the cardboard that would serve as a base for their gingerbread houses. Only a few seconds went by before she just had to jump up once again.

"Oooohhh – I just got too many ants in my pants today!!"

This announcement brought a chorus of laughter from the other children in the room and a smile from the teacher.

"Indeed you do," Ms. Hawkins commented.

"Hey...somebody's comin' up the walk!" red-haired Robert announced.

Scooting her chair back, Jennifer darted over to the window, shoving her face up against the glass. Her delight quickly turned to disappointment.

"Ah, gee – it's just some real old man...with a white beard!"

A second little girl, Kathleen, rushed to the window.

"It's my Grandpa! He's coming to help us too!"

"He has a beard just like Santa's!" Robert noticed.

The two kids rushed away from the window, leaving Jennifer alone and peering out into the schoolyard.

"But when are my Daddy and Uncle Johnny gonna get here?" she sighed.

Gracie peeked through the curtains of her small home and sighed before bending to pick up Max. "Oh, Max. I hope they didn't forget about me." She petted the cat, worriedly looking at the clock on the wall.

Max meowed at her as she dropped him back onto the floor.

"I know, it's only a bit after twelve." She looked through the curtains again. "Maybe something more important came up. Maybe they decided that they didn't want to spend their day with an old lady." She listened in silence to the clock ticking away the minutes. Tears began to float in her eyes as she continued to believe that she was set aside once again. "They're not coming, Max."

The curtain fluttered back in place as she released it and turned away from the window. The sound of screeching tires brought her back to the window in hurry. She saw Johnny bolt from behind the wheel of his Land Rover and nearly trip over the curb. Her hand flew to her mouth as he righted himself and continued up the sidewalk.

"He's here, Max! They didn't forget about me!"

With tears still in her eyes, she reached the front door just as the knock came.

Johnny opened the screen door and stepped inside. "Sorry. I left a little late, and then they were working on some traffic lights. Everything was backed up..." He looked at Gracie, noticing her red eyes. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

Gracie waved him away with a smile. "Oh, I'm fine." She pointed to the apron he was still wearing, hoping to distract him from her appearance. "Is that an invitation?"

Johnny's cheeks flushed, as he undid the apron. "Forgot I was wearing it. I was trying to find something that would draw attention away from this black eye."

"It may surprise the kids at first, but they'll get used to it." Gracie scooped up Max again. "Now you be a good kitty while I'm gone, okay?" She gave Max a quick nuzzle before gently setting him down.

"Ready to go, Gracie?" Johnny waited in the doorway.

Gracie froze momentarily when she looked at him. Memories hit her hard and for a split second, she saw Arthur standing in front of her, asking that question as he had so many times. Gracie mentally shook herself. He's not Arthur. Quit doing this to yourself.

"Gracie?"

"Yes." She picked up her purse and walking stick as she made her way to the door. "Ready."

She locked the door behind her. Johnny helped her to the truck, holding the door open, then carefully shut it when she was inside. She smiled, biting back new tears that threatened again, as she watched Johnny swing around the truck to get to the driver’s side.

They didn't forget about me.

"Buckle up, Gracie, don't want to lose you around a corner," Johnny joked trying to find a way to get around the uneasiness he was feeling. He could feel Gracie's eyes on him when he started the engine.

"Don't you worry about me, Johnny, as long as you get us to the school in one piece," Gracie joked, realizing her mistake. She shifted her gaze out the front window.

Why does he have to look so much like my Arthur? It's going to be hard concentrating on making the cookies. Gracie sighed inwardly.

When Roy arrived at the school first, Jennifer practically flew out of the door to greet him.

"Daddy, Daddy, you're here, you're here. Where's Uncle Johnny?" Jennifer could hardly contain herself.

"He should be here any time. He just went to pick up Gracie so she can help us with the cookies." Roy gave his daughter a quick hug.

"Hello, Ms. Hawkins. Nice to see you again." Roy smiled at the teacher.

"Thank goodness you're here," Ms. Hawkins laughed. "I didn't think Jennifer was going to be able to contain herself anymore. As soon as Mr. Gage gets here, we can get started."

At that moment, Jennifer spied Johnny and Gracie coming up the walk. As soon as he entered, Jennifer was on him in a flash.

"Uncle Johnny, Uncle Johnny, you came!" Jennifer squealed as she gave Johnny a bear hug.

"Of course I came. I wouldn't want to disappoint my best girl, now, would I?" Johnny laughed as he set Jennifer back down.

As he straightened up, Jennifer noticed his face.

"Uncle Johnny, you have a boo-boo on your face. What happened?" Jennifer asked.

"Nothing important, sweetheart," Johnny whispered as he noticed Ms. Hawkins trying to get everyone's attention.

Cleon Taylor was enjoying his cigarette. These cherished smoke breaks felt like his only refuge in these crazy days before Christmas. If ever there were a disgruntled school custodian’s nightmare, it was Christmas. And why? Glitter. It never really swept up. It never really mopped up. It just spread. Spread, moved around, reproduced, and reappeared. And now, it had even taken over the school stage. Sure, he knew it was all for the big Christmas pageant on the last day of school before break. And sure, the staff and kids loved it. Big deal. The new art docent for the fourth grade classes had them all going overboard. First, there were the huge oil painting murals for the backdrops. Sure, they looked awfully good. He admired it grudgingly, taking another long drag of his cigarette. But the smell of that nasty oil paint almost wrecked the taste of his Marlboro. Then, those stars dangling all over were extra sparkly this year – and dropping glitter everywhere! He needed a new job. One with no glitter. And no bad smells. Hmm…was that gingerbread he smelled? He’d have to go check it out. That might just make his day. His musings were interrupted by the intercom.

*Mr. Taylor to the west wing boy’s bathroom, please. Mr. Taylor to the west wing boys’ bathroom…*

Shoot! The gingerbread investigation would have to wait. Dang boys probably plugged up another toilet, he thought with disgust. He quickly crushed his cigarette against the bottom of his boot and tossed it into the trashcan and exited, stage left.

The tiny ember of the cigarette glowed in the well-packed trashcan as the distinctive smells of Marlboro, linseed oil, paint, and turpentine began to mingle...

The eighteen students in Ms. Hawkins’ class were all crammed into the tiny little kitchen beside the gymnasium. Like most small elementary schools in the area, Riverdale Elementary didn’t have its own cafeteria and the hot lunches had to be shipped in from a neighboring school. The small kitchen was actually part of the teacher’s lounge and held only a stove, a refrigerator, and a couch. Two long tables took up the middle part of the room and both of the tables were lined with wax paper in preparation for the upcoming mess. Each student had been assigned a job ahead of time, and despite the careful organization of Ms. Hawkins, the room was filled with excited squeals as the boys and girls assembled the cardboard structures that would be used to support their gingerbread houses.

Over by the stove, Johnny and "Grammie Grace" were checking on the latest batch of gingerbread. Gracie peered carefully into the glass window of the oven. "This needs about five more minutes. I do believe I need to use the ladies’ room." She handed the potholder over to Johnny and smiled up at him. "Will you be able to take these out in five minutes?"

"Oh…sure. Sure! I do this all the time! Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to show you where the bathroom is?" Johnny responded cheerfully, tightening the ties on the back of his "Kiss the Cook" apron.

Roy looked over at Johnny and rolled his eyes. "Do you even KNOW where the bathroom is in this school?"

"Well, no but…"

"I’ll take her!" Jennifer DeSoto took a firm hold of Gracie’s hand, giving it an eager swing. "I’ll show you the way!"

Gracie smiled at the enthusiasm of the young blond-haired girl who was tugging on her arm and looked towards Ms. Hawkins, who gave her nod in approval to Jennifer.

Cleon was tired of messes. He walked into the west wing boys’ bathroom and casually checked out each urinal. He flushed a couple of them and then determined that the rest were fine. He then poked his head into the first stall and grimaced, muttering an expletive under his breath. Paper towels had been stuffed into the toilet bowl and the water had overflowed onto the floor, running into the stalls to the left and right. There was an awful bathroom smell. Awful bathroom smells were even worse than glitter, oil paints, and linseed oil. And cleaning toilets was far worse than sweeping up glitter. He hoped the origin of the smell was not coming from this particular toilet.

For a moment, he considered reaching into the toilet with his bare hand to retrieve the wads of paper toweling. Instead, he decided he would be better off getting a pair of rubber gloves first. He scowled into the bowl. Four long years of high school and he was cleaning out toilets for bratty kids. He sighed, and headed towards the bathroom door. That is when he saw it. There was a mess on the floor, a bad mess, a nasty mess. A mess that he did not have the heart to clean up.

It was just a few days before Christmas and he had promised his girlfriend he would stay employed to help pay off the holiday bills, but this was more than he could tolerate. He couldn’t do this, couldn’t clean this up. Looking away from the mess in disgust he exited the bathroom and walked the few feet back to the stage, grabbing his coat from the small custodial closet behind the curtains. Checking to make sure that no one was looking, he made a hasty retreat out the back door of the building.

"Good riddance!" He muttered beneath his breath as he lit up a Marlboro and began the two-mile walk towards his home. If he hurried, he may even make it in time for lunch.

Johnny debated whether or not to open the oven door for another peek at the gingerbread when he felt a small, sticky hand close around his forearm.

"Can you help me stir my frosting?" The little girl had thick red hair and a smattering of freckles across her nose. "It’s too hard for me to stir it."

"Well sure, sweetheart!" The words had barely found their way out of his mouth when the plastic Cool Whip tub filled with white frosting was shoved towards him. The spoon was already bent almost double and when Johnny tried to pull it out, it seemed cemented to the bottom of the bowl. "Hmmm…" He looked around the room for a minute. No one else seemed to be having trouble with their frosting.

"How about some water?" the little girl with the freckles suggested.

"Water! Yes, that would work just fine!" Johnny worked his way through the sea of kids and placed the Cool Whip tub under the faucet, letting a small trickle of water drip into the bowl. He frowned as the water merely sat on top of the hard white mountains in the bowl.

"Why don’t you try HOT water?" the little girl suggested, standing on her tiptoes to peer into the sink.

Johnny looked down at the face looking up at him and grinned sheepishly. "Are you SURE you don’t want to do this yourself?"

"I might burn myself," came the no-nonsense reply.

"Oh, of course." Johnny turned the bowl upside down and dumped out the cold water, noticing the frosting never budged. He was holding his index finger under the faucet waiting for the water to get hot when suddenly he smelled smoke.

"Oh no…!" Johnny shut off the faucet, pivoted on his heels, and headed for the stove. Roy was already there, waving a potholder around as the smoke poured out from the sides of the oven door. When the door was completely opened, the smoke billowed into the room.

"Let me, let me…" Johnny moved in beside Roy and snatched the potholder from his hand. Reaching into the smoking interior of the oven, he retrieved the cookie sheet and its smoldering black contents. "Well, SHOOT!" Johnny deposited the pan unceremoniously onto the counter top and quickly shut the oven door. He looked down at the mess and then realized that the room was silent.

When he turned around, seventeen kids and two adults were staring at him.

Johnny was momentarily paralyzed. He stood with his mouth agape, alternating his gaze between the smoking evidence and the wide-eyed children. "I...it wasn’t...I was just..."

Roy stepped toward Johnny and grabbed the tray. "Let’s get those outside before the smoke alarm goes off." His words prompted Johnny to move fast. He dashed for the door to the courtyard and quickly placed the smoldering gingerbread on the gravel path.

Jennifer had been very disgusted at the horrible smell as she passed the west wing boys’ restroom to show Gracie to the girls’ restroom. She plugged her nose at the offending smell.

"Not again! Peeee-Yeeeeeew! You don’t want to go here! Come on, I’ll take you to the north wing bathroom. Why are boys so GROSS??"

Several minutes later, as they returned to the staff room from the north wing, a different odor punctuated the air. It caught Gracie’s attention as Jennifer rattled on about the nice singing coming from the kindergarten classrooms.

"All their parents are here, too! You should see the parking lot! It’s cram packed!!!"

Gracie stopped a minute and held her hand up for Jennifer to wait. The smell came again, this time a little stronger and more discernible.

Smoke.

And it wasn’t cookie smoke. She ventured toward the boys’ bathroom, until it was decidedly clear that the smell was not emanating from that mess, then she took a step toward the gym. She carefully opened the door, and peered in. Although she couldn’t see anything in the large dark room, the smell was much stronger. She shut the door firmly and took Jennifer’s hand in hers.

"Let’s go talk to your dad." She needed to talk to the firemen – fast.

Johnny greeted them at the door, an explanation ready. When he first took in Gracie’s stern expression, he felt like a schoolboy himself, and swallowed hard. Half the class blurted out at once, "He did it! He burnt the gingerbread!"

Johnny turned two shades of red and began to stammer again, "I, uh, well, you see..."

Gracie interrupted him as Roy came over to offer moral support to both Johnny and the now-embarrassed Jenny. Gracie gestured for them to go the hall with her.

"I smell smoke," she stated matter-of-factly, her eyes flashing.

Roy stepped in. "Well, Johnny kept the gingerbread in a little longer than..."

Gracie shook her head and held up a hand to stop him from continuing. "I mean smoke. And I don’t mean from a few overdone cookies. This old nose certainly knows the difference! And it’s stronger in the gym."

Johnny and Roy looked at each other and quickly followed as Gracie led them to the gym. She opened the door, and they entered just two steps into the gym. The smell was strong, and instantly recognizable to them.

"Pull the alarm, and get out!" Johnny shouted to Gracie as he and Roy took another step closer toward the stage.

"Anybody back there?" they shouted in the empty room. They instinctively ducked as the stage curtains suddenly burst into flame.

As the fire alarm sounded, Roy shouted to Johnny, "I’ll go help evacuate!"

Johnny nodded and shouted back over the din of the alarm. "I’ll run a quick check through these bathrooms!"

It took about two minutes to evacuate the building, and they met back with Jennifer’s class and Gracie. The principal of the school approached, his face full of concern and questions. He began to scan the crowds for itinerant staff members, and waited for the teachers to give their head counts. It was difficult with all the additional people in the school that day. Not only were there the volunteers for Jennifer’s class, but the parking lot was filled with cars up and down both sides of the driveway and down the street from the kindergarten students’ parents there for their own Christmas program. He prayed everyone was accounted for, and that this was just a false alarm.

His face grew grim as Roy and Johnny filled him in on the growing fire in the gym.

Miraculously, the head count took only a couple of minutes. Parents stayed with their kids and teachers took head counts for their individual classrooms going down through the names in their grade books. Parents checked on kids and kids checked on parents. There was more noise than he would have liked, but Spencer McAllister, the principal, was still pleased with the overall order of things. It was, after all, something they had all practiced together many a time.

"Thank God for ten fire drills a year," he said to Johnny and Roy.

"Listen, the fire department will be here in a minute," Roy said breathlessly, his eyes scanning the building, "But we need to be absolutely certain beyond a shadow of a doubt that everyone is out of there."

Roy had barely finished his sentence when one of the school secretaries approached them with a pad of paper in her hand.

"I checked in with every teacher and with all the itinerant and part-time staff. Everyone is accounted for. Since we have no actual count, however, of everyone who is in the building due to all the visitors today, an actual COUNT could take a matter of several minutes or maybe even longer…" She waved her pad of paper furiously while she talked, while Roy continued to glance nervously toward the building.

"Johnny, I think maybe we… Roy was interrupted by a firm yank of his sleeve.

"Daddy?" Jennifer yanked again at his arm until her father looked down at her. "I don’t see Mr. Taylor anywhere…"

"Who?" Roy asked, leaning down to hear his daughter more clearly above the din of the crowd.

"The janitor, Mr. Taylor. The one who always smells like cigarette smoke…"

Spencer had overheard enough and turned to the secretary whose mouth was momentarily closed. "Shirley, go to each group and check…"

"Right."

"Mr. McAllister, Mr. Taylor got called on the intercom, remember?" Jennifer spoke up.

Spencer looked down at Jennifer and then up at Roy. "You are right!" We called him to clean up the mess in the boys’ west wing bathroom… He must still be in the bathroom…"

"Young man, the mess in that bathroom was NEVER cleaned up!" Gracie said, stepping in closely so as not to be ignored by the group. "I KNOW what I smelled and it had NOT been cleaned up!"

"Shirley? Shirley!" Spencer yelled above the noise.

The short, stout secretary trotted back over, huffing now. "Yes?"

"Where was Cleon working before he got paged?"

"Well, he was backstage cleaning up the rest of the paint…"

Johnny and Roy looked at each other and nodded in unison. "Let’s go!"

Gracie watched with sick dread as Johnny and Roy ran back toward the building. Flames were now visible, shooting out of the roof of the gym.

"Lord, help them," she prayed under her breath. She watched Jennifer’s face, tight with the combination of pride, and fear as two of her most loved people in the world went back into the building. The little girl’s words from earlier echoed in her ears, "The parking lot is cram packed!" Gracie looked around and the knot in her stomach tightened as she saw the narrow opening to the school grounds. There was no way a fire engine could negotiate that. Johnny and Roy were cut off from help.

Kindergarten…kindergarten... She hurried to the nearest staff member. "Where are the kindergarten classes?" she asked urgently. The teacher pointed, and before she could ask why, Gracie was gone.

Gracie’s words were clear and strong. "Kindergarten parents! Listen to me! Your cars are blocking the driveway. The fire trucks will not be able to get in! PLEASE move your vehicles! For God’s sake, PLEASE!"

Her words hung in the air as the meaning began to sink in. She could hear sirens in the distance and looked back toward the school. Parents began to spring into action, but she knew it would take time. A loud groan followed by an even louder crack brought her attention back to the building. All she could think of was Johnny and Roy in that building.

Hurry…

She took in the chaos of the parking lot. Teachers were busy trying to keep their classes quiet as the children began to see the flames.

Gracie, you old fool! Do something! She hesitated only a moment, then walked closer to the building, listening for some sign of Johnny or Roy.

She didn’t recognize the skinny man who ran up to her. "What the devil happened?" he asked in astonishment.

Gracie’s eyes were glued on the growing flames. "A fire in the gym. The custodian is missing, and two young firemen are in there looking for him!"

"The cust – WHAT? I’m the custodian! I was…just…um…on a break," he lied. The truth was that he feared his girlfriend’s wrath more than the mess in the boys’ bathroom and had come back to work.

Gracie stared at him in knowing recognition. "Your BREAK may cost the lives of some truly brave men, Sonny. Go tell your principal you’re all right! And say a prayer." Gracie heard the sirens getting closer, but there was still no sign of Johnny or Roy. "Lord, give me strength," she whispered as she cautiously approached the outside door to the gym.

The smoke and fumes stung her eyes, but she was intent on her purpose. She moved almost blindly through the back part of the gym. Flaming beams were down at the other end and illuminated parts of the room. It struck her that this must be where the concept of hell originated.

"Mr. Gage! Mr. Desoto!" She ventured nearer the heat. She stumbled as her foot caught on some debris, and she fell to her knees. "Good Lord!" she cried, as she read the words, "Kiss the Cook"…

She felt the heat burn her tears away as she cried out. "NOOOO!!!" While on her knees she began digging with a strength she didn't know she had. Suddenly, a pair of gloved hands grabbed her at the shoulders and she shook with fear and determination.

"No! Please...let...me..." she tried to cry out again, but the smoke caused her to cough and wheeze, stopping any further attempt to speak. She turned toward the masked fireman that had grabbed her by the shoulders. His eyes set on hers and she could hear his muffled reply.

"Ma'am, we've got a team coming in. Let's get you out of here, now!"

He tore off his mask and placed it over her face. She inhaled deeply, feeling as though the world was spinning. He held on to her, leading her out of the gym. More firemen carried hoses into the gym past her and she turned around again.

"Ma'am, please just breathe deeply and let's get someone to check you out," the tall man said gently.

She couldn't stop the tears as she coughed again. "P-p-please, sir...those young...men...you've got...to...to..."

"Shhh, it's okay. We're going to find them, thanks to you. Now, sit right here." He led her to the open door of the rescue squad parked nearby. "Dwyer, over here!" the tall man called out.

Gracie tried to stop shaking and shifted her small frame firmly on the seat. Blinking away the tears and wiping her nose, she glanced at the seat. She gasped when she spotted the fireman's helmet on the seat with the reflective taped numbers "51" glinting in the daylight. She cried out again, "Nooo!" and sobbed.

Gracie pulled out her hanky and blew her nose once, then pushed it back into her apron pocket.

Pull yourself together, Gracie! This isn’t doing anyone any good! How DARE they not allow her to find him!

Paramedics Tom Dwyer and Steve Dawson, had been helping with the fire scene when they heard their captain’s voice. Gracie watched as the man whom she assumed was that Dwyer fellow run over to the squad. She could hear his hand-held radio squawk to life. She listened intently as the men in the building relayed that they had uncovered only an apron. No Johnny. Her shoulders sagged. Then, an idea came to her.

"Young man?" she said, sounding as frail as possible and feigning a weak cough.

"Yes, Ma’am? Let’s get you checked out." He smiled genuinely, although she knew he had to be worried about his friends. He slipped out of his turnout coat and placed it over her shoulders.

"Oh, thank you so much. Please, young man…my purse is on the other side of the parking lot. It has my St. Christopher medal in it. Please, I’d feel so much better if I had it near me. Could you please go get it for me? I’d be so grateful. It’s on top of a yellow station wagon with wooden side panels. You can’t miss it."

Dwyer quickly took her pulse, which was strong, although slightly rapid. He smiled again, nodded, and placed the oxygen mask back over her nose and mouth. "You promise to stay right here and leave that on?"

Gracie nodded. "Oh, of course! Where would I go?"

As soon as Dwyer moved away from the squad, her entire demeanor changed. She wiped her eyes, a look of sheer determination etched on her face. She looked around and slid her arms into the turnout. She put on the helmet and cinched up the chinstrap. There were so many people around she was SURE she could get out of the squad unseen. Opening the door, she gave a cursory glance, and headed back toward the building, keeping her head down and trying her best not to walk like an old person.

She entered the school through the door to one of the kindergarten classrooms, and put her hanky over her nose and mouth. "I am not going to sit back and let you die in here without doing something!"