NEW! (10/09/05)
Morning Conversation
By Marty P.
Morning physical training had just ended and Captain Hank Stanley could feel the
weariness emanating from paramedics Roy DeSoto and John Gage. “You two didn’t
get much rest last night, did you?”
“Nope,” Johnny yawned. “We got called out six times.”
Roy began to tuck in his shirt. “It was seven, Johnny. And two of those were
cancelled.”
“Oh, that’s right.” Johnny stretched and leaned toward the kitchen where the
smell of fresh-brewed coffee enticed him. “And two took an hour by the time
everything was done.”
The captain put his shoulders back and took a deep breath. “You know, I used to
envy you two performing as paramedics.”
“You mean you woulda trained if they’d had the program ten years ago?” Johnny
sounded surprised.
Hank Stanley rubbed his stubbled chin. “It was hard to watch people who needed
medical assistance and feel so helpless.”
“Yeah, we still aren’t miracle men.” Roy thought of the young child who had
choked on a toy. By the time they got there, the child had been without oxygen
too long. The parents’ reaction made it even tougher.
The captain straightened his back. “Ya know who woulda made a dynamite
paramedic? Captain Hookraider.”
“Hook?” Johnny shuddered. “He woulda instituted a policy to polish the inside
and outside of the drug box!” He rubbed his hands together as he envisioned the
handle slipping out of his grip every time he used it.
“That’s not fair, Johnny.” Roy eyed his partner.
Johnny raised his hands. “When has the man ever been pleased the first time we
do something?”
“He wasn’t always that way.” The captain explained. “You see, his father had a
heart attack.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Johnny’s voice softened.
“Prior to that time Hooky was a free spirited, happy-go-lucky young fireman. His
station was called to resuscitate his dad and all he could do was watch him
die.”
“I had no idea.” Johnny brushed a spot of dirt off his pant leg.
“His mother blamed him, not once but for weeks on end. Then she committed
suicide.”
“No wonder he keeps telling us to do things over and over. It makes him feel
like he’s in control.” Roy leaned against the hood of the squad.
Johnny gave his superior a contemplative look, “Cap, why didn’t you ever tell us
this? It would’ve explained so much. Now I feel really guilty about the
retirement party we threw for him.”
“I’ve said more than I should. It kinda slipped out.” The captain pivoted toward
the latrine.
Hoping to catch the man off guard, Johnny blocked his progress. “Why did you
burn the Chief’s hat?”
Captain Stanley got a secretive look on his face. “That’s for me to know and you
never to find out…and don’t lose sleep over it either, Gage!”
The captain vanished through the door and Johnny rubbed his heavy eyes. “I
thought he’d tell us. Think he ever will, Roy? Roy?”
His work partner, tantalized by the odor of Marco frying chorizo for breakfast,
was in the kitchen. Johnny yawned and joined him. Chet glanced up from the
paper, “Whatcha been talking about out there?”
“Cap told us why he burnt the Chief’s hat.” The prank was worth it when he saw
the expression on the Phantom’s face.
“No way! Spill it!”
“Don’t bug me, Chet. I’m too tired to chat right now.” He ignored the man’s
pleas, winked at Roy, and poured himself a cup of joe.
Feedback
To Save a Buck
by
Purry
The morning tones sounded signaling the beginning of a new day. Members of the
A-shift crew slowly made their way from the dorm room toward the kitchen in
search of an infusion of opulent umber to help wake their weary souls.
Roy DeSoto, along with his partner, John Gage and their captain, Hank Stanley
stood in the engine bay discussing the previous days unusual and hazardous
event.
"I still can't believe what happened," Roy mused.
"I know, I mean...it was just so..." Johnny stammered, unable to voice what he
was trying to say.
Hank rubbed at his temple and sighed.
"Still have a headache, Cap?" Johnny asked.
"Yeah, you guys?"
"Yeah, but it's not as bad. The aspirin has helped," Roy replied.
"Yeah, definitely not as bad as yesterday. What the hell was that guy thinking
anyway? I mean...man!" Johnny stopped, again unable to continue.
"I'm grateful that a headache was the only injuries that Station 51 suffered,"
Hank commented and sending up a silent prayer of thanks.
The three men stood in companionable silence pondering what could've happened
and thanking their lucky stars that it didn't.
####
Station 51 had been called out for a possible gas leak. When they arrived at 307
Cascade Street, the stench of raw eggs filled the air.
Hank, John, Roy, Chet and Marco approached the front porch of the single story
house where a petite woman in her early forties stood. "Mrs.?" Captain Stanley
questioned.
"Ellison, Sandy Ellison. Thank goodness you're here. I told him not to, but he
wouldn't listen," the shaken woman complained.
"Who are you talking about and what exactly did he do?" Hank asked.
"Simon, my husband, he's under the house with a tank of bottled gas...we have
termites," she explained, in a matter of fact manner that she seemed should
explain everything.
"Ma'am, let's move over next to the engine, away from any potential danger,"
Hank said as he helped Mrs. Ellison from the porch toward the engine.
Before they could make it halfway across the lawn a loud explosion erupted,
shaking the earth, and knocking Hank and Sandy Ellison to the ground.
In the meantime, Johnny, Roy, Chet and Marco started to make their way around to
the right side of the house to check on Mr. Ellison when the unthinkable
happened.
The A-shift crew was stunned by the blast that propelled them across the yard,
out of the way of the falling debris that was once the Ellison home.
It was only by the grace of God that Simon Ellison survived with only second
degree burns and a concussion and no one else was seriously hurt.
####
"I think Mr. Ellison thought that using gas would be an inexpensive way to get
rid of the termites," Hank said.
"Yeah, all this just to save a buck," Johnny sighed.
Shaking his head and picking at the seam of his untucked shirt, Roy voiced his
thoughts, "He could have killed a lot of people and burned down a whole
neighborhood. He was...we were lucky."
The smell of coffee lured the three men out of their contemplations and into the
kitchen to join the rest of their shift mates. Another day awaited with many
possible 'unusuals' to face.
The End
Chet's Challenge
Entering the apparatus bay from the day room, Captain Hank Stanley stopped short
at the scene before him. The tune he had been whistling died a quick death.
"Would someone like to tell me what Chet is doing down there on the floor?" he
asked, looking at his two paramedics who were both staring down in amazement. Or
perhaps it was closer to disbelief.
"I don't know, Cap," answered Roy DeSoto, "he won't tell us."
"What do you mean he won't tell you?"
Roy shrugged and then frowned in puzzlement. "He says . . ."
"He SAYS," Gage interrupted with a snort, "it's a new exercise technique."
"Yeah, guaranteed to 'pare away the pounds' he tells us," muttered DeSoto.
Hank Stanley stared down at the fireman and watched the weird contortions he was
putting his body through. After a few moments, Hank just shook his head.
"It looks ridiculous."
Placing his hand on his hip, Johnny grinned and said, "It looks painful to me."
Chet Kelly slowly unfurled his body and stood. "Ha! Shows what you know, Gage.
It feels great!"
"Uh huh. Sure it does."
"Bet you can't do it."
"What! Of course, I can do it. And better than you."
Gesturing to the floor, Chet challenged, "Let's see it then."
Johnny scowled. "I don't know the moves."
"Fine. I'll show you . . . unless you're chicken."
That was all the challenge Johnny needed to hear. He dropped to the floor , his
unbuttoned blue shirt falling open. He impatiently motioned for Chet to join
him.
Captain Stanley crossed his arms in front of him and smiled. "Now this I have to
see."
Leaning back against the squad, Roy put his hands in his pockets and with a big
smile said, "Yeah, me too."
* * * The End * * *
A Little Present
by Lizabeth S. Tucker
"One of you has to clean it up," Captain Stanley said.
"But, Cap, we didn't do it!" Johnny protested.
Roy continued to stare at the unwelcome gift in the middle of the bay, directly
under where the squad had been parked.
"I think Chet did it."
"John, we left the station at the same time. The squad came back first. Chet has
been in the kitchen the whole time since then. There's no way he could have done
it."
"Then someone snuck in."
"How? The station is locked tight while we're out on a run."
"But...but the only other explanation is that..."
"Yeah," Roy offered. "The only other explanation is that the squad did a dump in
the bay."
(February 2005)