By Audrey W.
The ten-year-old dark-haired boy stood on the corner of the street, hoping he would get to see the fire trucks from the nearby station while he and his aunt had to wait for a ‘walk’ signal to cross. He was always glad to return to the city of Los Angeles after a summer at the reservation with his grandfather because the city had so many exciting things going on, including the neatest emergency vehicles. Not that he didn’t enjoy his summer visits; quite the contrary. However, most of his time was spent helping out at a trading post located near an interstate that ran through the reservation. He often felt uncomfortable with the stares he would get from the children that stopped in with their parents as they passed through on the way to another destination for vacation.
Johnny Gage looked up at his aunt beside him. It was only since his parents died a couple of years before that he’d started the routine of living with her and his uncle in the city to attend school. City life brought opportunity, and he hoped someday it would help him to be more than his father could have ever imagined.
“Here they come!” he shouted, as sirens could be heard. Johnny’s brown eyes widened as the two fire trucks quickly approached. His main focus was the tillerman truck. Watching it go by, he smiled wide at the fireman handling the steering duties at the rear of the vehicle. “Someday that’s gonna be me, Aunt Renee.”
She nodded more so to humor the boy than to agree, but he didn’t notice. He kept his attention on the trucks until they were nearly out of sight. “Yep. I’m gonna be a fireman.”