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From: patti
keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com>
Sent: Monday, February 18, 2020 14:42 PM
Subject: Patching In
Doc Coolidge was fully sprawled out in a staff lounge chair at the local
hospital in San Luis
Obispo County. He was hugging the potted flower holding
Patty's monarch butterfly on his stomach,
as he gratefully closed his eyes
to rest. "Wow, I don't know how you two keep up the energy to handle
in the field calls like you do. I feel like I'm parbroiled and mentally fried
at the same time."
Roy chuckled, downing a glass of ice water to follow the half cup of
coffee he sipped only lightly.
"That was the distant fire's doing, and the
fact that this was a very personal patient's call. It
always drains you. You'll
snap back in an hour or two. What speeds that up is knowing you got there
in time, and the fact that it's over."
Johnny Gage burst through the breakroom door. "The
M.D. on call
says Miss Burns going to be fine. The charcoal worked in neutralizing
all of the
pill junk in her system. They want to hold her a few hours for
observation before discharging her
to make sure they got it all bound
up internally."
"Where's Brice?" Roy asked Gage, shaking
out ash from his paramedic
jacket into a nearby garbage can.
"He's making sure Patty Burns'
visit to the Hemlock Club wasn't more
than just a temporary psychosis effect." Then he grinned even
bigger.
"Now that I think about it, Craig Brice has totally missed his true calling.
He makes one
hell of a psychiatrist when put his mind to it. Even my
mania shifted down a few notches when I was
walking by that
door, just overhearing him talking to her, like one."
"What did he say?" Doc
asked.
"It was private." Gage glared at the vet. "So shush. You already got
everything, by
law, that you needed to know. So finish filling out your mutual
aid paperwork, and be happy about
it." Johnny moved over to the lounge sink to
start washing butterfly bits off of his shoes and knees.
"Switching subjects, did
you guys see how many dead monarchs were out there?! There must have
been
a few million at the very least. Or more. Broke my heart to see the
wildfire smoke killing them like
that."
Doc Coolidge sighed. "They have sharp instincts, Johnny. That's what
brought them
to the coast line, out of season, one of the docents
told me. They'll survive fine enough. They've
got a good population size
playing on their side this year, 125 million strong."
Gage nodded
in relief, but grew silent, thinking over something very deeply. Then
he spilled the beans."Miss
Burns wants to join up with Les and Dave in the big
fight, Doc."
"Oh really?" Coolidge startle
grunted, peering out of a deep yawn and a
slightly painful stretch. "My secretary ...is hankering
to be a city dog catcher?"
Johnny met his spectacled eyes evenly."So am I. So stop laughing, Doc.
I'm
asking you now, fireman to ...critterman, to make us honorary control officers with the
county,
under your clinic."
"Mr. Gage. Are you out of your ever lovin' mind?!" Doc gaped.
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Gage shifted feet, dropping his newly washed shoe on the floor with a splat.
"It doesn't have to
be permanent. We don't even need to get paid, Doc. And it'll be
just until the Cistern Fire plaguing
us back home, burns out. We've both got reasons
to go out there and try to save everything still
standing on four legs."
Doc's sense of the ridiculousness got to him. He reached up two hands
like
chicken wings, and fluttered them at shoulder height.
"Or two with wings." Gage added,
not dropping his pegging gaze.
Coolidge sobered. "For you, is this because of Boot?" the vet
asked gently.
Gage's mouth twitched and he blinked at the floor. "Yes, sir. It has everything
to do with
the memory of that .. that incredible dog." he said, his voice breaking.
He mulled
over Gage's news, and confession, for long seconds, his ample features
softening by subtle increments.
Then he coughed with derision. "All right. I'll grant it.
For the both of you, Johnny. With pay.
Just to make it legal." He levelled a finger
at the paramedic's nose. "You listen to my boys one
hundred percent when it comes
to any hands on animal rescues. You may know fires and human patients,
but not
how quickly a frightened cow or dog can turn on you in a heartbeat instinctively
because
they think they're in danger from something they know is far, far bigger
than you, that you aren't
even aware of, that's sneaking up behind you. I've seen
that a million times and every now and then,
I still get caught." he said firmly, holding
up his crisscrossed, animal bite and scratch-scarred
fingers.
Gage picked up two coffee mugs by their handles and hefted them in the air
in invitation
to the Doc. "I stand warned. I know horses a fair bit, if it helps. I own two on
my ranch."
"That'll
do for starters." said Coolidge, nodding at the offer of a hot cup of joe.
"Mr. DeSoto, you want in,
too?"
"I'm now with my family on my off days. I just got off an enforced rest
period a few
weeks ago due to overworking our favorite d@mned fire. " Roy told him.
"That's an honest answer.
There's no shame in knowing one's boundaries, Roy.
Keep an eye on this one for signs of the same
thing once I put him and Patty Burns to
work." Coolidge gruffed with a smile as he took the coffee
Johnny had poured for him.
"Oh, you can count on it." Roy told him over a column of coffee steam.
"Stupid won't
even enter into his vocabulary."
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Three days later, Johnny and Patty Burns were standing in front of the Carson Street
Animal Shelter
and Clinic, chafing in their new mud brown animal control officer uniforms.
"Are we ready for
this?" Burns glanced sidelong at Johnny dubiously, feeling the
woven blue rope and other animal handling,
tools jutting up around her utility belt.
"No. I feel like a fish out of water in this thing."
he said of the tan shirt and tie. "At least
the helmet feels normal." he said.
"Speak for yourself.
This is my first time wearing one that isn't a bicycle helmet." Patty
snorted. "What if I get scared
and make a fool out of myself. I mean, if we're facing down
a cougar or something outside of the fire
zone."
"At least you won't fudge your shorts, Miss Burns. Aren't you still sh*tting out the black
stuff?"
he joked.
"Shut up, funny guy." She grinned, smacking his arm in mock insult, just
as Les Taylor and Dave
Gordon came out the front door of the vet clinic.
"Beating up on your
new partner already. Looks like a normal first day to me." quipped Dave
to Les.
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"I'll say. Hi guys. Did you remember to bring absolutely everything I told you to bring?" Taylor
smiled
broadly, sweeping grand arms out towards the two white patrol vehicles newly decked
out in water
tanks on top of their usual boxed in cage compartments.
Gage sighed and held out a box of C and
H sugar cubes in a leather glove.
Gordon laughed aloud. "Outstanding! Let's go. They've moved
the staging area today to
north of the L.A. River. Wind's shifted. Gage, you're with me." said the
African American
animal control officer. "Our radio call sign is Carson 1. Patty, ride with Taylor
as Carson 2.
Pay attention to the weather reports from the fire department. They won't have time to
double check on you in a head count if the Cistern blaze flares up like it almost did on
us, yesterday.They've
got enough to deal with already."
"What's happening? I haven't worked since Friday. And this is
Monday. It's my last day
of my weekend." Gage asked.
"Oh, you don't know all of the details
yet?" Les asked.
"Not yet." Johnny answered.
"The power station's gonna burn down before
five this afternoon, guaranteed. LACoFD
choppers couldn't keep up with some of the fresher fire
storms last night." Dave replied.
Gage got worried, fast. "Now wait a minute. Nobody can handle
a city wide blackout today.
The governor's barely been informed of how bad it might get."
"It
won't just be a city wide blackout, Johnny. That's a new dam sitting up there. There's no
underground
back up network even built yet. Try a complete county wide power outage, when
those mountain towers
incinerate. Hope you prepared your homes ahead of time." Gordon
said.
"I wish." muttered
Patty and Johnny both. Burns' natural intelligence sparkled immediately.
"Will our handy talkies still
work when they switch to ham radio frequencies?"
"Yes. At least that holds over from the usual
earthquake protocols." Les shared. "Time to
go. Doc says there's a call already waiting for us in
the park. A missing pregnant setter, who
ran away from home, close to her due date."
The two
teams separated, each going to a duty truck and piling on in.
"Why do pets always beeline for
the fire lines? I don't get it." said Gage as he climbed into
his assigned truck with Gordon.
"The smell of food. There's a lot of wildlife who couldn't survive, roasting up there. In new
spots
every day. Deer, rodents, songbirds. Predators are attracted to any meal they can scent."
Dave replied
as he buckled in after testing his amber light bars for nominal functioning. "It doesn't
matter how
domesticated they are. Everything with a nose is going to go and try to find free lunch.
That feeding
instinct is hard wired. You can't train it out. Cows and horses refuse to run away from
fire because
they're prey animals and they panic too easily. You've seen this."
"I have. It's not pretty."
Johnny said. "They don't understand the danger."
"Now you see why the city has appointed us ACO's
to duty." Gordon said proudly.
"The law can say, evacuate, but people usually won't. Not without
their pets. So indirectly,
we save human lives, by saving all runaway domestics. Here's your new badge."
he said,
handing over Johnny's probationary shield. "Remember this, Johnny. We're the only ones
between them, and the fire. And these animals, don't know that, until we show them that
we mean them
no harm first. Carson 2, we're ready. Let's go!" he hollered out the window.
Les Taylor at the
wheel, with Patty Burns riding shotgun, stuck a hand out of his vehicle's
driver's window, in a lassoing
sweep. He added an enthusiastic thumbs up.
Unbidden, a jolt of healing excitement and an odd
eagerness gnawed at Johnny's stomach.
::It's nigh on time I started making the one difference that
truly matters the most
to me right now.:: he thought.
He was finally going to search for,
and find, a life that was indelibly of Boot's ilk,
and save her from a fiery fate.
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Captain Stanley was with Roy and Brice and the rest of Station 51 at the Cistern Park entrance.
It
held the only road up to the power plant which was clearly in the line of fire from the blaze's
slow,
summer long progress, up the mountainside canyon valley. He was giving orders to
his crew that he
had received from his Battalion Chief only a few minutes ago, in a conferencing
tent. "The Bomb Squad
is certain there are no more dynamite pockets left in the park. Those
either blew up or were dug out
weeks ago. Our job is to provide fill for the choppers, coming
and going from the power plant site.
Stoker and Kelly, lay our pump line into the lake and rig
for supply and transfers on a inch and a
half. Roy and Craig, your job is to handle any medical
walk ups, fire or public, to our area. Now
I know we're not the official Triage location, but people
are going to find our trucks when they
get caught and injured while fire watching. The chiefs know
to send up an ambulance or two asap when
we call. Keep your scba close, we have no idea
whether or not that wind direction will keep cooperating
like it is. The heat of the day has yet to
arrive. We're here to observe the power tower collapses
when the fire reaches them. Our hands
will be full keeping the press from getting too close while
they film the end demise of
the plant for the news. We can't close the park from public because it's
on Federal Land and
not on fire anymore. Report any oddball anything to me as soon as you see it.
Marco,
you're Public Information Officer. Keep them out of the Fire Department's hair any way you
can.
Last thing I need is a reporter in my face telling me how to do my job."
"Right, Cap."
replied Lopez. Dragging out an air bottle to wear backpack style, he left his helmet
on Engine 51's
running board and a public relations slate with statements already approved by
Battalion to give
to the news crews.
Roy and Brice nodded and returned to sit inside of Squad 51. "I heard Carson
Shelter rolled
out a few minutes ago." said Roy. "I can't believe Johnny's actually with them today.
Was that
your idea, Brice?"
"I'm not that smart, Mr. DeSoto. Mr. Gage found the solution for
that raw heart condition over
the loss of Boot, all on his own. It was Miss Burns who suggested it."
Brice clarified.
"Coolidge must be having a cow knowing he's got two green people working an animal
fire scene."
Roy sighed. "Johnny was so nervous, that he skipped coming to the house this morning
for breakfast
with Joanne, I and the kids."
"I don't think Barney the vet's too worried. Johnny's
a seasoned firefighter. He knows what to
do and avoid in equal measure. Even when he's distracted
neck deep in something new and
technical." Brice grinned.
"But he's a bit accident prone.
That'll show. I know it." Roy pegged.
"Mother hen your partner in your thoughts as much as you'd
like if it makes you feel better.
Dixie asked me to share that." Craig gestured dutifully.
"How'd
McCall learn about all of this?"
"She volunteers part time at the Carson Animal Shelter. She has
ever since the Pygmy goat
incident you two handled."
"I've no regrets about that. In spite
of Brackett's initial ire back then. A life is a life."
DeSoto confessed.
Brice held up innocent
hands and his mouth shrugged in amusement. "I'm a total book worm.
I'm not so sure I would have had
the guts to do the same as you guys did, without hesitation, like
you did for William."
"I
see a terrified child crying over the loss of a pet and I always fold like a stack of cards."
Roy
sighed.
"That's because you're a dad first, husband second and a firefighter third. Three strikes
were
already against you in that respect. I guess there's a little bit of wishing to be an animal
control
officer hero or the worship of that job, in all of us. For every animal encountered is automatically
the firm underdog in need of help in every situation. Instant gratification of that fatherly or
firefighter
instinct comes on every call. That's highly attractive." Brice surmised.
"I wonder what they've
got?" DeSoto said, listening to the fire band chatter thoughtfully.
"We'll find out soon enough.
We've got the only freed up ice bags and oxygen for miles around
on Squad 51." Craig smiled. "Cornered
market."
"That's right. He'll find us. You can't take the paramedic out of the man, even when
he's wearing
a different hat." DeSoto agreed. He felt more solid after that and chugged a whole bottle
of
water down in fifteen seconds flat, while the two of them studied the bloated, blistering,
distant
fire line that was inexorably approaching the power plant.
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From: patti
keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com>
Sent: Sunday, October 11, 2020 10:54 AM
Subject: Bolster Bluff
Dixie McCall turned in an analyzing circle in an open spot, eyeing up every movement of
her fellow
staff in Rampart's E.D. Mindfully, she opened her fists which always clenched
during intense periods
of task delegating and took in a deep breath of relief when she
realized that everyone had all their
bases covered. "That's it. That's all we can do." she
mumbled to herself. "My task is done."
"It's never done, Dixie." came a friendly tap on her shoulder. McCall glanced down to
see the steaming
coffee mug that had been encouraged to nudge her in Dr. Morton's
hand. "Here. I thought you could
use some more."
Dixie laughed. "Am I that frazzled looking?" she asked, sipping absently from
the cup.
Mike grinned. "Never. It's that perfect doo of yours. Every hair always in the right
place."
"Blame the starched hat. It's brutal by needing eight bobby pins to stay on top of my
head."
she scoffed. "I'll be glad for the day Admin decides they're a contamination risk in exam
rooms.
They're the only things we don't cover up with gowns or masks in between patients."
"Wow,
I've never even considered that angle. It's true, Dixie. Have you brought that up
at a meeting?"
Morton shrugged, angling his head.
"I haven't had time, Mike. What head nurse has any extra to
get creative, policy wise?"
They both looked up when the lights flickered.
"Already?" Mike
said, slapping his coffee down onto Dixie's desk and moving over
to the fire department radio speaker
to turn up the live transmissions.
"That's the main generator coming on line." McCall reassured
him. "I recognize
the dimming pattern."
Mike relaxed and rescued his coffee again to drink
it down whole as he listened
to L.A. rattle off incidents and calls and response crews. "Nothing big
yet.
Just some animal control officers being dispatched."
"Don't tempt fate, Mike. That's like
saying the "Q" word." Joe Early replied,
stepping up to them with his latest patient chart. "Hi, Dix.
Ms. Doone's lab results
are so ordered. She'll be feeling better once we rebalance a few electrolytes."
"What was her issue?" Dr. Morton asked Dr. Early. "She walked in here
weaving like a drunken
sailor."
"It was probably dehydration. Her blood alcohol was zero and her blood sugar
levels
are normal. She has no sign of diabetes, nor any history of it in her
family."
"How are her
kidneys?" McCall asked dubiously. "I dumped two bags
of NS into her ten minutes ago."
"Not
yet peeing like a racehorse, but soon, I expect." Early became
distracted by the fire department scanner
and he pursed his lips,
pausing a mid coffee mug pour, from the staff's hot pot. "Crickets
chirping."
he finally said.
"Yep." said both Mike and McCall. "We thought so, too.
"First time all
summer. Feels... kind of ominous." Joe shivered.
"Doesn't have to be. It could be a crest at the
top of the hill finally."
Dixie chided. "All fires die off with a little help."
"A lot of help
in this case." came another male voice. Dr. Brackett
joined their little group behind the E.R. desk.
His eyes roamed over
the quiet base station light indicator only briefly as he joined their
impromptu
coffee club. "The Cistern Fire's the biggest one this
state's ever seen, and we've still the Santa
Anas yet to come."
"Not for weeks." Mike replied. "We might get lucky and snag an
atmospheric
river."
McCall groaned. "I don't know. That might be worse than this fire.
A bunch of mud slides
from too much rain?"
"Can't win in California." Joe sighed. "Not since the gold rush.
So what's
new?"
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"Johnny called this morning, all excited." McCall smiled.
"Oh, yeah?" Joe grinned back. "What
about? It's nice to hear
he's cheering up again. I've been worried about him."
"So have we
all." retorted Mike.
"He's got a new hobby working the animal shelter as an officer."
Nurse
McCall shared. "But I'm half in knots. It'll be no
easy ride along for him, because of losing Boot."
Kel pursed his lip in amusement.
"I disagree. Klutzy though Johnny is, he's got a stern constitution
when he puts his mind to it." Dr. Brackett chuckled. "I can't say I
didn't see it coming that he'd
decide to pick up a dog noose and
put on a pound's hat. The man does own an animal ranch. I fully
expect to see him, actually ride up to the front doors on a horse
with a patient one of these
days."
All four of them laughed loud and long.
Life took a break that hour, letting Rampart
rest.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Johnny
Gage still could not contain his inner excitement. He actually had butterflies
in his stomach like
a rookie. He glanced at his training animal control officer,
Dave Gordon. "Boy, am I nervous." the
paramedic chuckled weakily.
"What's there to be nervous about?" asked Dave. "You're a pro. It
can't be
about this fire thing." The dark skinned, early forties man smiled. "It's your
usual
playground, Johnny."
Gage dropped his head. "Is there such a thing as developing an inferiority
complex
when it comes to dealing with dogs?"
"I feel that way about cats one hundred percent
of the time. It's their claws I
respect." Dave gestured, making ten of them with his fingers in the
air over the
steering wheel. "Just picture where we'd both be if they were our size."
"In
their stomachs. I haven't forgotten that grocery store tigress snarling at me
from on top of that
walk in cooler five years ago." Johnny shivered, thinking
about California cougars.
"Correct.
At least with dogs, we have that Pavlov's bell gene working for us. All we
need is a bone or a meat
scrap to earn that Fido's best friend rank most of the time.
Is it the aggression to strangers possibility
that's bothering you today?" Gordon
wondered, curious.
"Not actually." Gage sighed as they
drew closer to their assigned staging spot. "I think
it's more now, how I might fold like a stack
of cards, if we a..ah.. are too late rescuing
one. I was told.... that ...Chet saw Boot running towards
the engine seconds before .. "
he choked up.
"Revisiting that death happened day is okay to
do, Mr. Fireman. It's what we all do.
I can't imagine what it must be like being too late for one
of us, as a paramedic or a first
responder. Losing an animal, doesn't hold a candle to that kind
of loss, not
even as a family pet, as strong as that grief can be."
Gage was quiet, reining
in reburgeoning, sad emotions. "For me, it's about on a par."
"Hang onto that amazing empathy,
Johnny Gage. It's a strength, not a weakness.
Especially in our line of work." Gordon pulled up to
their parking place and shut
off the ignition. Across the river, they could see the swollen fire
writhing even
closer to the power plant's vicinity. Dave looked at his new fire fighting trained
partner and winked encouragingly. "We can save this one. She's not over there,
according to our
R.P. She's somewhere on our side, last spotted near the campsite
acreage, staying out of sight, hiding
out, waiting to whelp her puppies, if she
hasn't already. Her instincts as a soon to be mother will
keep her well away
from any fire." Dave promised. "She's ours, Johnny. We're not going to be too
late. All we have to do is use my smarts about where pregnant mothers like to
hole up, and find
her."
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From : Patti Keiper <pattik1@hotmail.com>
Sent : Wednesday, March 3, 2021 10:44 AM
Subject : Par Broiled
Captain Stanley
ripped off both of his fire gloves and practically leaped out
of Engine 51's cab, startling his men.
"Front and center, boys!"
"What's up, Cap?" Chet asked, almost afraid to pose the question. "It
can't be
about the fire, because that's still making all of us cry like grown babies." he
quipped,
hooking a thumb across the river where the water was at a boil at
the edge of the fire. "Is that
rain moving in yet?"
"I've got something faster than that snail crawling Pineapple Express."
Hank
grinned from ear to ear, holding up his radio attuned to another channel off
of the command one.
"Wait. Watch. And learn." he beamed. Then he twitched
his head oceanwards in a hint.
"No way!"
gasped Mike Stoker. "You got them?!"
"Got who?" Kelly wondered, rubbing a soot covered nose.
"I got us more mutual aid by thinking outside of the box." said Cap. "We've been
a little obtuse
as a department all summer long, struggling with just ourselves and
other firefighters to handle
our local hell on Earth." he shrugged.
All six firefighters shivered when a fiery column of flames
rose up in a morass
of writhing plasma inside of a dust devil wind. They stared, mesmerized, as it
headed casually for the power plant they could barely see through the hazy
smoke.
Hank
shoved his helmet up a little higher on his head. "2100 degree mark right there,
gang. That's a fair
bit of nastiness. But we're not the only ones who get to play with
water tonight. The governor just
authorized Navy owned cranes, all they had, to back
ours. He just told me, 'Never mind the bill,
it's on the state of California's tab.' "
Stoker already had his ear to the side of Engine 51's
engineer's panel. He
whistled appreciatively. "Holy smokes! There must be at least fifteen of them
coming our way. My cheek's buzzing!" he said, feeling the vibration of the water
crane fleet
arrowing in on their location from the west.
"Wait a minute, they're hauling saline in those
water drops?" Marco gaped.
"Yep." Cap confirmed. "Sea water. Because our forest fire tank reservoirs
have
just about run dry. In two minutes, the plant's shutting down their above ground
facility
grid so they can begin dousing the fire that's closet to engulfing
infrastructure. The conduction
risk dangers don't outweigh losing the county's
entire power grid for months if we lose this property
to the wild fire."
Roy chuckled. "Does Battalion know about this plan? It's ingenious!"
"He
does. I sent the governor to his landline after mine. L.A. made all of this
happen between the three
of us an hour ago."
Chet was still excited and awed. "They sure got here fast."
"The beach
is just five miles over the hill, Kelly." Cap teased.
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Craig Brice shifted the glasses on his face thoughtfully. "One alert to the Navy,
and then Cap's
prime pieces fell into place." He nodded, mollified. "What tipped
you off onto this wild idea, Mr.
Stanley? Bringing sailors into a fire fight's
absolute craziness, and about as far away from the
following the rule book,
as you can get."
Cap deigned to look embarrassed. "Ah... well...
A seagull crapped on my
windshied on my way into work today. It was an epiphany. I still can't believe
I've got a bird to thank for solving all of our problems today."
DeSoto's gaze shifted to
the river island and the power plant they were assigned
to eyeball on fire disaster watch. Two hours
ago, Station 51 thought they were going
to witness the end of L.A. County's electrical supply. Roy's
relief was
unbridled. "Wow, we are so lucky here. So, is there anybody we've got to be
worried
about, who's still gonna be in there?" he asked.
Hank got down to business, briefing the gang
on a track they had anticipated.
"The plant manager and his engineer. They're in scba so they don't
need to
worry about any one suffocating while they're so close to the forest fire. Captain
Stone
and his men are backing them up in the control room for the temporary
building shutdown, so all of
our salt water can land safely on the powerlines
and transformers in their yard."
"What about
the residual energy left over in the equipment?" Lopez frowned.
"That's where we come in. We're
to put out any sparks or ignition points on
the lawn outside. We'll be using our ladder and the aerial
the County installed
last month. So it's no boots touching the ground, to avoid any and all arcing."
Stoker cocked his head at the top of Engine 51. "D@mn. She still looks
unwieldy to me wearing
that."
"That's what her new retractable feet are for. Stand on the runner's board
platform
to operate your dials. We don't know how long it will take to lay
down air drops and support spray
over the power plant to protect it, until the
main blaze danger passes by and leaves the area. The
local power goes back
on at that point and the whole island's pretty much electrically active soaked
dirt wise, until everything dries out."
Brice looked back at the one road that lead off of
the island. "What about the
bridge?"
"The Navy will target that, too. The pavement won't be
allowed to buckle. For
ourselves, we have enough air to last the rest of the night. Logistics left
a
flatbed truck full of bottles for both us and Station Eight in the middle of the
parking lot."
"It's going to be a long night." Marco remarked, stretching his turnout a little
looser around
his shoulders by pinwheeling his arms to warm them up for
hose hauling.
"Yep." replied Hank.
"But a very short fire assignment for us personally. We
get to return to the station to catch some
sleep, in the morning afterwards."
"Win/ win!" celebrated Chet.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Mom!" came a teen voice just a few months into cracking masculinity.
"Yes?" replied Joanne
DeSoto to her son, who was on the phone. She was
bustling in the kitchen, hurrying pasta for the
spaghetti dinner she was hosting
for their guests Kel Brackett and Dixie McCall, who was watching
and
memorizing game plays for their hospital raffle in case the night's city wide
fire caused
black out that the news channels were hyping about, came to pass.
"Dad just called. They've got
to babysit tonight." he sighed as he hung up the
yellow wall phone.
"D@mn it! Er.. darn it!"
Mrs. DeSoto swore. "It's always a post brush fire site
watch that spoils dinner." she muttered, setting
down her colander of steaming
noodles into the sink to cool down under the tap.
"That's better
than a Code I call." Chris shrugged.
"Hush. No need to harp the job's barbs before supper."
Dixie's ears were sharp. "Oh, well. At least the Merlot won't go to waste.
We can always freeze up
Roy's dinner for another time."
"Hey, can I try Dad's wine?" piped up Chris, sidling into the
kitchen and
into the forbidden food prep area.
"No way, Jose, almost man of mine." she warned.
"The apron is on." she
teased, ruffling his hair as he swooped in to snag a slice of buttered garlic
bread from a towelled basket. "You're only thirteen. Don't rush things."
"Had to try." he
winked, eating his pilfered snack in two bites.
"Wow." his mother blinked. "You can have your
sister's plate. She's at a
sleepover tonight and took a pass on the pasta get together."
"Done
deal!" Chris shouted, mouth gaping like he used to do when he was
much younger."
"Now go set
the table for--" Joanne began.
"Four. I can count, and subtract." Chris mock scoffed.
Joanne
just rolled her eyes as she began stirring the sauce in the pan.
"You feel like balancing my checkbook,
too, then?"
Her son looked horrified. "Nah uh. I might figure wrong, and cause an
overdraft."
"Two dollars if you give it a try.." piped up Kel Brackett from where he was
sipping his wine.
"It'll put hair on your chest."
Chris squealed. "Eewww. Don't rush me. I'm still a growing boy."
he said,
fingering his newly muscling pectorals.
Everybody laughed.
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