Chapter 18: Epilogue

August 31st, 1977

Six tired bodies slumped around the table. Between each pair of hands sat a hot cup of coffee, the steam making its best attempt to relax the lines of exhaustion and stress from their soot-speckled foreheads. He studied each one as he joined them.

To his right was Mike, the steady, dependable one who in a moment's notice would take command if his captain needed him to. The one who rarely spoke, but when he did, often had a lot to say. He was wise and calculative. He was always two steps ahead.

Next to Mike was Marco. Consistent and loyal. The man would never leave another human being behind or die trying. Never afraid to join in on a joke, he kept the spirit of the station well-balanced between jovial and serious. He was always the first to obey a command.

To Marco's right was Chet, his partner in the line of duty. Perpetually single, his sense of humor was enough to feed a dozen men. It was that same sense of humor that carried the crew through some of their roughest times. He was always the first one to defend a brother who was facing a trial.

John sat next to Chet. Often at odds, the friends shared a bond so complicated that putting a man on the moon seemed easy. Johnny Gage was only now beginning to learn that his past was just that: his past. It could weigh down his shoulders or it could be tucked away in a box where he could remove it from time to time when he needed a reminder of how far he'd come. He hated to lose, but he always wanted to be on the right side of a fight and would proudly take the fall if it meant that right would win.

To Johnny's right sat Roy. The humblest man Hank had ever met, he never stopped giving others the benefit of the doubt, even when they'd proven him wrong time and time again. Gracious and forgiving, he was a voice of reason in a world that was sometimes unfathomably tragic. He was always a rock where any of them could lay down and rest safely.

The figure on Roy's right was Dennis Holmes. He was a new face, but he fit right in with A-shift. At forty-two, he was older than the rest of the crew, but he never brought it up. He'd been an engineer at Station 45 for six years and transferred to 51s a few weeks earlier to accommodate the new class of engineers. Hank respected that. Dennis always put the needs of others before his own.

He sat beside Dennis. Him. Henry Stanley. He studied his own hands. In them, he'd held new life. In them, he'd held death. He'd touched the very things that could give life or take it away. And he had the scars to prove it. In his hands was power. And he hoped that whenever he did something with his hands, it was always with the intention of choosing good.

Every few seconds, a quiet slurp would tap the otherwise silent morning. It'd been a long night. A three-alarm fire had kept them out since midnight.

Quarter to eight.

Any moment now, Gene Hookraider and his captain-in-training Normal Wright would be arriving. It was Gene's last day of active service in the department. Soon, B-shift would be under the command of a bright thirty-one-year-old man with an accomplished career. Hank knew they'd be just fine.

Dragging himself upright, he sought another cup of coffee. From the corner of his eye, a car whisked past the window.

That's Gene alright.

Stirring the pot, another car whisked past.

Norman.

He smiled. He liked the man and knew that he would fit in well with all of Station 51.

Carrying the pot to the table, his thoughts turned to his own crew. Having already been sworn in as Chief, he technically was no longer in the rank of captain, but he'd chosen to forgo that technicality for the sake of poetic justice. Once he was off the clock, 9:00, he would be Chief Stanley. Right now, he was still their captain and he was holding tight to that fact.

Footsteps echoed in the bay as Hookraider and Wright made their way into the station. Leaning in the doorway, the new and friendly face greeted his station-mates.

"Morning Norm." Mike dragged himself up, much in the way that Hank had done a few minutes earlier.

"Seems like y'all had a long night." He noted the soot and dust caked to their faces, as well as the strong stench of burnt plastic.

"You can say that again."

Mike followed Norman out into the bay.

"I see that my guys'll have to clean the engine."

"I can see if mine can when…" He stopped walking. Norman did too.

Hank didn't need to see their faces to know that both held expressions of terror.

That was the first time Mike referred to the guys as his crew!

From the surprise on Gene's face, he'd clearly never heard Wright refer to B-shift as his own.

Hank's heart jumped joyously.

Gene walked over to Hank, who was now leaning against the kitchen doorway. As the watched the two freshly minted captains, both felt a proud nostalgia. In many ways it was a sad day. The end of two eras-the Stanley and Hookraider eras. It was also a day of celebration, the beginning of two new eras: the Stoker and Wright eras.

Awkwardly, Norman asked, "should be have our morning chat?"

"Yeah," Mike answered with a similar sentiment. "Let's go to the office."

Norman walked in first, Mike close behind. But before he disappeared behind the wall, he hesitated. Looking behind him, he seemed almost startled that Hank wasn't there. Catching the nervousness in his friend's eyes, Hank sent a reassuring nod across the bay. He could see confidence explode in Mike.

You've got this Mike.

Mike smiled and walked in.

As if someone had turned off the lights, something disappeared from inside Hank. He felt a void inside his heart. The station suddenly felt different but he couldn't say why. Physically, nothing had changed. It was still the same one-story brick building. The wind still swept across the bay and the California sun still roasted the air until it was parched of any water droplets. There was still laughter and banter. Engine 51 was still the same. She might not have been the shiniest engine that morning, but she was still the reliable friend she'd always been. Still, there was an unfamiliar essence lurking just out of reach enough that he couldn't grab it and find out what it was.

Maybe because this isn't home anymore.

The void made itself known once more, but it wasn't a void made of darkness. If anything, Hank found solace in the thought that this wasn't his home.

Maybe this void isn't the absence of something, but new space waiting to carry what comes next.

Taking one last look around the bay, he walked to his locker where he would remove the name plaque and place it in his duffle. Before he put it inside, he rubbed his finger across the inscribed letters: Captain Henry Stanley. His new office already had his new name plaque on his desk.

By the time 9:00 rolled around, A-shift was ready to go home and sleep. Fighting exhaustion, they stuck around, none of them wanting to be the first to leave.

"Well," Hank began, the enormity of the day finally making its presence known, "it's been an honor to be your captain."

He choked out that last word.

"I have been deeply privileged to have a crew like you."

All their eyes were wet, even Dennis. He'd seen captains come and go, but the reputation of this crew was remarkable and well-known.

"I was proud to be your captain and now I can say that I am proud to be your chief."

He looked over his crew one last time.

"Okay boys, let's go home."

As he watched them walk to their cars, he stopped Dennis.

"Dennis, it's only been a few weeks but it's been a pleasure. We are having a barbeque and my place this Tuesday. You are more than welcome to stop by."

"I don't want to intrude it seems like you guys are really close…"

"Dennis, you've forgotten that you're on A-shift. That means that you're part of the family too. Here."

He handed Dennis a paper with his address.

"Thank you."

"Now, go home and sleep."

Dennis walked to his beat-up sedan.

"I got it dirt cheap." He had claimed.

"My car was a great deal too…" Chet told the story of how he acquired his car. No one was sure how much of it was true.

Hank smiled fondly.

He'll fit in just fine.

As he watched the five men get into their cars, he felt another behind him.

"Captain Stoker."

"Chief Stanley."

The pair smiled.

"In some ways, I wish that McConnicke had waited one more month. Then I could have finished training you."

"But if he had waited, would you have passed over either of those other positions?"

"I guess things happen for a reason."

Roy pulled out first, Marco with him.

I hope Marco's car get fixed soon.

"You know who's going to finish your training?"

"Captain Dodge from 110. He was going to retire last month but the Board asked him to stay until October to help with training some of the new class."

"You worked with him before?"

"A few times, but it's been a while."

"Listen to his stories. They might be long-winded but they're full of wisdom. You'll learn a lot from him."

John pulled out next, hurriedly speeding down the driveway.

"He's in a hurry."

"I think I heard him say something about a date?"

"Don't tell him I said this, but if he ever finds a wife, I'll be surprised."

"You won't be the only one."

Dennis was next to leave. He offered a friendly wave as he passed by, leaving the driveway open for Chet to pull out.

"Let me know if Chet causes any problems for you. I know he means well but sometimes his jokes can be a little…much. It can hard to walk the line between enjoyment and responsibility when you're a captain."

"You know, Cap..I mean, Chief…." Mike stumbled.

"Mike, just like before, it's Hank when we're off the clock or talking about something personal. And to be honest, I'm really gonna miss 'Cap.' It's become my second name. How about you all can still call me 'Cap' as long as it's not in front of anyone else."

"That works for me!"

"Anyways, what were you going to say about Chet?"

"We could always pull a prank on him…"

"I think I know where you're going with this and, I like it. The Phantom gets phantomed."

The joy that posed within their hearts broke free for a moment before angst swelled around it. Neither man wanted to make the first move, knowing what it meant.

"I still remember my first day here. I was terrified. You welcomed me with open arms. I never thanked you for that."

"And you never have to."

The knot in his throat and the tears welling in his eyes stopped him from saying anymore. The way Mike looked down told Hank that the sensation was mutual. They stood motionless, the noise from the 405 like a steady static they heard but didn't quite perceive over their screaming thoughts. Side by side, they walked to their cars, much like they had after Hank's first shift. When they reached Mike's car, they stopped. Facing his "captain" for the last time, Mike took a long look at him. The years had been kind to him, no one could say otherwise. But still, the lines on his forehead had become like a dried river bed, carved by the waters of life, defined by the dynamic between turbulent rapids and a gentle stream. He had new scars on his face that were barely visible, but there none-the-less. Then there were his eyes. They spoke louder and more colorfully than words ever could. Mike stood at attention, perceiving that a command was coming.

"Watch over them for me."

"Always."

He didn't hesitate. He knew. The crew that Hank had loved and fought for, supported in times of struggle, laughed with in times of joy, this crew was now his.

Mike climbed into his car and pulled away, leaving Hank alone in the parking lot where he leaned against his trunk, looking at the station. Inside, the engine and squad were standing at attention, waiting for the klaxon. A figure in blue crossed the bay for the latrines, pulling the cleaning cart behind him. A smiled at the memories that flashed in his mind.

"You taught me how to be a captain. And in doing so, you showed me what it takes to be a chief. Thank you, 51."

The late-August breeze whistled as it whipped around the hose tower in a way that sent shivers up Hank's spine. He knew it sounded crazy, but he thought he could almost hear the station saying "You're welcome."

Pulling out of the parking lot, he turned onto the boulevard before pulling over on the next side street. Standing at the curb, he looked back one final time at Station 51. From this distance, she looked inconspicuous. In his heart, he knew that she had always been and would always be home to the best firemen in the department. The flag out front waved in the wind. He smiled.

Today isn't a sad day. Today is an exciting day. It's a new adventure. I'm ready for it.

Tomorrow he would begin his new post as Battalion Chief under the watchful guidance of his former captain, a man who he'd feared needlessly for years. He had to laugh at the irony of it all. But that was tomorrow's worry, and tomorrow already had enough worries for itself. In that moment, he decided that he would focus on today and whenever he thought about it, he would always think of today for what it was.

Today was the first day of Chief Henry Stanley.

Author's Note:

I don't think I can overstate how much I thank you for reading the whole story. When I originally outlined it, it was only 5 chapters (maybe up to 7). I not expect to have a full-length novel on my computer!

I have a lot of regrets about how I wrote this story, but as always, writing is a process. I will take what I've learned and use it in the future. Who knows! Maybe I will come back to this storyline and improve it.

Again, thank you sooo, sooo much for reading.

Best,

MD