Runaway

Captain Hank Stanley sighed as he read over the roster of names listing the men who would be on shift with him. Not all the names caused him to sigh. All were familiar and most were expected. But the name of the engineer—that was the one that dismayed him. If he could put in for one particular man he did not want to act as a replacement for his regular engineer, this would be the man.

Mike Stoker, his regular engineer, was participating in a training seminar this morning and would be on shift later in the day. Meanwhile Stephen Davies would be his replacement. Once again Captain Stanley sighed as he reviewed what he knew about the man.

Davies had transferred into the department a few months before from a department up north. As of yet he did not have a permanent station to work out of. Working as a floater, he filled in on shifts on an as needed basis. None of the captains who had worked with him so far had expressed the desire to make him a permanent member of their crew. As a matter of fact, those captains Stanley had spoken to expressed surprise the man had made engineer. The few times he had worked with him, Stanley had understood why.

Davies was not a hard man to get along with. Personally Cap liked him, finding him to be personable and friendly. He reminded Cap strongly of a little lost puppy sometimes. What made the man difficult to work with was his skill level. Try as he might the man just always seemed to be slow on the uptake and to miss the mark. Stanley had to admit the man had not made any really dangerous mistakes. Not yet, but he felt sure it was not a matter of if, it was matter of when. Fervently, Cap hoped it would not be on his shift.

Unable to avoid the inevitable any longer he stood and walked into the equipment bay calling for roll call. Coming from various directions, the men lined up next to Big Red as usual. Stanley surveyed them and saw they were all present. For a wonder no one came trotting in at the last moment. All were on time, dressed, and ready to go—including Davies. The man gave him a nod and small smile of acknowledgement. He looked so harmless. Maybe today would be different, maybe he had gotten over his newby jitters and would be more efficient today. Stanley hoped so.

As it turned out he was not any better. If anything he was worse. And in the end, Captain Stanley could not remember having been so angry and so scared at the same time ever before.

Even before he finished making the announcements the klaxons sounded and they were on their way to a motor vehicle accident. Luckily the run was a short, simple one. But even in that amount of time Davies managed to make several mistakes.

Captain Stanley knew he was comparing him to Stoker and that he should not be. Stoker was a seasoned engineer who he had worked with for several years. But Stanley could not quell the feeling that no matter who he compared Davies to, he would not measure up.

The second call, to a trash fire at one of the apartment complexes, did not help matters any. Stanley found himself wishing the morning was over. Stanley knew he was being hypervigilant, noticing the smallest of mistakes, which he would not have if it had been anyone else. Resolving to give the man the benefit of the doubt in the future, he climbed back up into the cab of the rig. Davies started the engine and began to move the rig forward knocking over several trash barrels in the process. Biting back a criticism, Stanley gritted his teeth and hoped they would have no more runs that morning.

He was out of luck.

The third call was to a house fire only a few blocks from one of the busiest Boulevards in Los Angles. Looking down the pleasant, quiet street sloping toward the intersection, he decided they were far enough away that traffic control would not be needed. Neighbors gathered around to watch as the firefighters prepared to enter the house and extinguish the fire. Predictably the fire had started in the kitchen and luckily had not spread far. It took only a few minutes to knock it down and then the firefighters began the clean up process.

Stanley stood on the street in front of the house talking with Vince and the homeowner. Engrossed in his conversation, sure that his men could handle the situation, he did not notice the engine moving until he heard Davies’ warning cry. Turning he saw the engine heading straight for him.

The engine was not moving very fast. Just simply rolling forward and the three were able to scramble out of the way without any problem. Then he saw no one was doing anything to stop the engine. The other crewmembers were on the lawn near the house. Only Davies was near the engine and he was standing apparently in shock watching the engine move away from him with wide eyes. Suddenly Stanley began to be angry.

The rig began to pick up speed as momentum built and was headed directly for the busy intersection. Stanley knew he could not let the engine roll into that intersection where cars whizzed by totally unaware of the danger. Running, he caught up with the rig and jumping grabbed onto a handrail to pull himself up onto the running board. Holding on with one hand, he wrenched open the door of the cab with the other. Slipping into the driver’s seat he grabbed the wheel and slammed both feet on the brakes. The rig, which had been steadily increasing its speed, protested. Stanley heard the wheels begin to squeal as he rapidly approached the intersection.

Still the rig moved rapidly forward. Hoses, still attached to the pumps, streamed out behind the vehicle, leaving a trail to mark its progress. Stanley’s white knuckled grip on the steering wheel tightened and he practically stood on the brake pedal in an effort to stop the engine. His heart beating in his throat, he stared forward into the intersection where he could see the unsuspecting motorists whizzing by.

Finally, dramatically, with inches to spare the rig came to a shuddering halt only seconds before enter the intersection. Afraid to let go of the wheel or release either foot from the brake pedal, he remained frozen, staring into the intersection. The sound of his men calling to him finally penetrated and he relaxed enough to set the emergency brake. Slowly releasing the foot brake, he sighed when the rig showed no signs of moving.

Climbing down from the rig he turned to face the men running up to him.

“Marco, take care of the rig.”

The order was softly spoken but the look in the captain’s eyes was murderous. Marco scrambled to do as he was told. Captain Stanley stopped Davies when he began to protest Marco doing his job.

“Davies, explain to me how this happened.” Cap was so furious he did not care who heard him, his only concern was the man standing before him.

“Well, Cap…I guess…I must have…forgotten to set the emergency brake….” Davies reply was hesitant. When he had seen the rig moving forward toward the intersection, he had known two things: one that he had screwed up royally and two that Captain Stanley was going to be furious with him. He was not wrong on either count.

“You forgot?” Stanley could not believe what he was hearing, even a rookie firefighter knew you had to set the emergency brake on these rigs. Brainless did not even begin to describe the hapless engineer. For the next 20 minutes, while Marco repositioned the rig and he and the other crew members finished cleaning up the scene, Stanley told Davies exactly what he thought of the incident and of the engineer’s skills or lack thereof. Furious as he was, even if he had stopped to consider it, he would not have let the fact that he had an audience stop him from yelling at Davies.

Meanwhile all Davies could do was stand there and listen to the captain’s tirade looking more and more dejected. Sure he would never be allowed to handle Big Red again, he was surprised when Captain Stanley ordered him to drive them back to the station.

Only when Davies had successfully driven the rig back to the station and backed it into the bay and parked it, did the fury begin to abate. And the reaction began to set in. Suddenly, with the fury draining away, Cap felt as if he was made of Jell-o. Remaining in his seat after everyone else had vacated the vehicle he began to pull himself together.

Seeing Stanley had made no move to exit the cab of the rig, Marco stepped up on the running board and looked in the window at the captain. “You all right, Cap?” His question alerted the others who stopped where they were and turned to look back. They moved closer as they awaited his reply but kept their distance, knowing Captain Stanley would not want to be crowded.

“Yeah. I’m all right.” Feeling as if a zillion tiny egg-beaters were furiously whirling throughout his body, he opened the cab door and began to climb out. Still not sure if his knees would hold him he paused before closing the door of the cab. Just then he saw Stoker standing in the doorway of the locker room buttoning his shirt, a puzzled expression on his face. So glad was he to see the man, he came closer to hugging one of his men than he ever had before. But he settled for a temperate, “glad you’re here, Stoker.” Turning he walked around the front of the rig and paused when he saw Davies standing next to the cab door. “Davies, I’m going into my office now. When I come out, I suggest you be gone.”

Continuing with hard won steadiness toward his office, he entered it totally oblivious to the raised eyebrows of his puzzled engineer and the quiet shakes of the rest of his crewmember’s heads. When he was in his office he did something he rarely did, closed his door.

Sitting down at his desk, he began quietly and calmly to write up the incident report. When was finished with that, he promised himself, he could and would have the nervous breakdown he so richly deserved.

The end

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