By Sharon
It was a typical day in Carson. The 405 was alive with the hustle and bustle of Los Angelino’s commuting to work. Sirens of all sorts could be heard in the distance. Perhaps policemen chasing down criminals or firemen on their way to put out a fire…etc, etc, etc.
And at Los Angeles County’s Fire Station 51, four firefighters were busy with their daily chores. Marco Lopez, had just recently finished sweeping the kitchen floor and was now halfway through mopping. His co-worker, Chet Kelly, had just finished cleaning the latrine and had decided to get himself a coffee and try once again to teach Henry how to use his doghouse. Upon placing his right foot on the kitchen floor, Chet’s legs quickly departed from one another resulting in the stocky man accomplishing the splits, rather than attaining either of his more lofty goals. He let out a rather painful yelp, bringing Marco’s attention to his comrade.
“Chet, you okay?”
The only response Marco got was more yelling as Chet did a very bad jitterbug across the wet floor.
Marco knew he had to help Chet, since the primal cries had to be emanating from extreme pain. But Marco had moved too quickly and found himself trying to keep his balance as he flew across the floor, always with one leg high in the air; making the Latino man look like he was choreographing a rather bad waltz with the mop in his hands for a partner.
Henry, the basset hound lying on the sofa, looked up at the two firemen dancing across the floor for a brief moment, but then lowered his head and went back to sleep.
Engineer, Mike Stoker, who had been polishing Big Red, couldn’t help but wonder what was going on in the kitchen. Yelling and screaming was a given when it came to Chet, but Marco? No, even a raised voice was not Marco’s style, excitement yes, but never yelling. Placing his chamois along the engine's runner board, Mike decided to investigate. As he started across the bay where the squad was normally parked, he saw Captain Hank Stanley exit the office with a rather stern fatherly expression on his face.
“Don’t worry, Cap, I’ll check it out,” Mike offered.
“Thanks, Pal,” Hank replied while making a retreat back into his office.
As soon as Mike placed his boot into the kitchen, he slid towards the table with his arms stretched out for balance. The lanky man would have made it but he slammed into Marco and the two embraced.
Captain Stanley sat at his desk and couldn’t believe that his normally quiet, reflective, and very mature engineer would possibly get involved in whatever was going on in the other room. But he knew that the screamed “CAP” had definitely come from Mike Stoker’s mouth. As Hank made his way to where all the commotion was coming from, he said a quick thank you that his paramedic, John Gage, was not involved.
Just like his engine crew, Hank found himself doing a very poor imitation of Fred Astaire once he stepped onto the wet soapy floor. Just like Mike before him, he outstretched his arms in the hopes of remaining upright. He would have accomplished his goal had it not been for the table perched in the middle of the room. His hip connected with the table, but his feet unfortunately, continued to slide, sending the man in command to the ground with a loud thud.
“Squad 51, what is your status?” Sam Lanier asked from dispatch.
“Squad 51 available,” paramedic Roy DeSoto replied as he looked around for his partner, John Gage. He found him down the hall flirting with a new student nurse.
“Squad 51, stand by for response.”
Tones sounded, followed by “Squad 18…respond with squad 51, still alarm at Station 51. Code I times four.”
Ramparts head nurse, Dixie McCall, could see Roy’s body tense within seconds. After taking a second to control his emotions, Roy flew down the hall grabbing his partner as he went.
“ROY! WHAT? Would you let go, I was just gonna…”
“Ask her later, Johnny, we have a still alarm at the station, four code I’s.”
When DeSoto and Gage arrived at the station, they found their colleagues sprawled out on the floor moaning and groaning. They glanced towards one another in astonishment. Soon, squad 18’s paramedics, Kevin Tye and Randy Manny, arrived to help with the rather bizarre scene.
Doctors’ Kelly Brackett and Joe Early soon delivered the rather good news to Station 51’s worried paramedics.
Captain Hank Stanley suffered a fractured wrist and would be back to work within a month. Mike Stoker had banged his head when he and Marco finally fell to the floor in a heap. He suffered a mild concussion and would be kept overnight for observation. Marco Lopez sprained his knee and would be off duty only two weeks and Chester B Kelly had managed to sprain a groin muscle while attempting to do the splits, he’d be a day to day casualty. All in all, the paramedics felt their crewmates had come out of their ordeal rather luckily.
Six weeks later, Chief McConikee sat at his desk going through his mail.
Chief McConikee;
Please accept this letter as a request for all Los Angeles County Fire Stations to return to the old brand of floor cleaner. My crew informs me the current and new brand is unsatisfactory.
Sincerely yours,
Hank Stanley, Captain,
Station 51,
Carson
The End
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