Non-Participation II - Seven.

Neither Trixie nor I were surprised to find out that the explosion had occurred at a recently built factory. Local gossip had it that the company that owned the factory were in the business of making extremely dangerous chemicals, and had paid a lot of money, not necessarily ethically, to get the plant built.

In my opinion the factory was, at least, an eyesore. At most I believed that it was an environmental and community disaster. Promised jobs to the local work force had not materialised as much of the plant was automated, and those jobs that needed the human touch were filled by outsiders. The giant smoke stacks emitted tons of goodness knows what into the air, and I hated to think what was being done to the local waterways.

A part of me was glad that it was this particular factory that was affected, but I couldn't help worrying about those who were trapped, and, in the long term, what environmental damage was being done.



We'd made it to Auckland in less time than I'd expected. Trixie and I directed Virgil to an adjacent park. Thunderbird One was already on site and we could see Scott manning "Mobile Control" from the back of a flat deck truck.

Deftly Virgil landed Thunderbird Two on the green turf. Once this park had been a place to be enjoyed, now a large ominous pipe snaked its way around the edges and disappeared under the ground. Parents no longer trusted the area as a place where their children could play safely. It was only rarely that you would see someone exercising their dog on its' green lawns. Last time I'd been here this park had held a desolate air.

Thunderbird Two's motors had barely shut down before John and Virgil were out of their seats. "Right you two," Virgil said, "I'm leaving you in charge of Thunderbird Two now, okay?" We nodded our agreement. "And don't touch anything. Especially that button there." He pointed at a large red button shielded by a clear plastic cover. "Okay Trixie?"

"Anyone would think that you didn't trust me Virgil." She pouted.

"Anyone who can talk my father into changing his mind, twice..."

"Three times." John cut in.

"Three times," Virgil continued on, "has the strength of character, or just plain pig-headedness, to think that they can do what they darn well please. And I don't particularly want my Thunderbird damaged. Got the picture." He appeared stern, but his eyes were smiling.

Trixie nodded solemnly.

"And what ever you two do," John added, "please don't go outside. You'll put all five of us in danger if you do that."

"Okay John." I said. "We promise."

"Cross my heart." Trixie crossed herself somewhere in the vicinity of her liver.

"I'll go start getting ready." John said.

"Be with you in a moment." Virgil pushed a couple of buttons on his computer. Video screens came to life, showing the inside of what I assumed to be the pod. "Just to keep you from being bored, I'll link our video camera's through to here, so you can see what we're up to. They're mounted on the front of both the 'Firefly' and we've got them attached to our fire suits."

"Thanks Virgil." I said to his retreating back. But he'd gone.

As Trixie and I watched from Thunderbird Two's cabin windows we saw Scott jump down off the truck and meet Virgil and John in a hasty conference.

Trixie watched the three of them intently. "I wonder what it's like to have a 'Toy Boy'." She said meditatively.

"Trixie!"

She gave me a big grin. "Am I shocking you Chris? Don't worry it's just my idea of fun."

"Fun?"

"I learnt a long time ago that life was for enjoying. So that's what I try to do. And part of that enjoyment comes from making other people laugh. And there's nothing as funny as an old lady lusting after handsome young men."

I could think of funnier things but kept silent. Her next statement surprised me.

"Have I ever told you about my husband?"

"No."

Her eyes followed Scott as he made his way back to his base on the truck. "Ryan Albert Trickey. I knew from the moment that we met that we were soul mates. I loved him with all my heart. I know that he felt the same."

I wondered why she was telling me this.

"He was a Fire Fighter." She said meditatively as she opened a secret compartment in her cane and withdrew a photo. "He was a lot like Scott. Tall, dark, handsome, strong, a natural leader, caring, but always ready for a joke. I loved him so much and whenever he was on night duty I used to lie in bed, alone, and worry... worry that maybe tonight he wouldn't come home."

I was silent as I looked at the photo. He did look like Scott - without the dimples.

Trixie paused for at least a minute as she gathered together her thoughts and emotions. "One night he didn't come home."

"Oh, Trixie. I'm so sorry."

"So was I. I was sorry for myself for a long time. He'd been assisting at a road accident. The driver of the car was trapped and Ryan was in the car beside her, steadying her, comforting her. Doing what he did best - helping strangers."

"What happened?"

"A speeding driver didn't see them or the warnings. He came upon the accident scene too fast. He ploughed straight into the back of the crashed car and sent it flying forward into the car in front. The original victim sustained more injuries, but survived. Other Fire Fighters were injured, some seriously. The speeding driver got a few cuts... Ryan was thrown through the windscreen and between the two cars. He died at the scene."

Mere words didn't seem adequate at this time. I put my arm around her.

"Thirty Four years we'd been married. Thirty Four wonderful years. Ended in a flash. All because of one person's stupidity." There was bitterness in her voice. "I hated that man. Hated him for taking the most important part of me away from me. And then I began to feel depressed. Why me? I missed Ryan so much. I thought I couldn't go on without him. Do you know I had a bottle of pills in my cabinet? I used to look at them and think 'it would be so easy to be with him. No more pain...'"

I was shocked. I'd never thought of Trixie as being anything but bright, cheerful, easygoing... "But you didn't" I said.

"No I didn't. One day I was in the park. I don't even remember how I got there, or why. There was a young lady walking along, minding her own business, and two hooligans came along and started hassling her. I could see she was quite frightened, but at first I did nothing. Why should I get involved? It was nothing to do with me. It wouldn't bring back my Ryan. Then one of them grabbed her around the neck and started pulling her towards some bushes. Clearly they thought a little old lady like me would be too intimidated to do anything. The poor girl was terrified."

"But they didn't know you, did they Trixie."

"No." She said in satisfaction. "They didn't know me. I let out a scream and ran towards them yelling 'Fire!'"

"Fire?"

"People are always curious about fires. Anyway all of a sudden we were inundated with people from all parts of the park. The hooligans forgot their plans and ran... straight into the arms of a waiting policeman."

"Who says there's never a cop about when you want one."

"Exactly. The police were very nice and took my statement, but what really changed my life around was the look on that young ladies face. Of relief. Of gratitude. And also the thanks I received from her family. I realised then, that my life had a purpose. That if I'd... taken the alternative... anything could have happened to that young lady. That now I could, in some small way, carry on Ryan's work. It's why I jumped at the chance to join International Rescue."

"I'm glad you did." I said simply.

"I went home that afternoon and looked at all the photo's I had of Ryan. Of our wedding day, Honeymoon, the birth of our children, and everyday shots of everyday events. Do you know? In every one of those photos both Ryan and I were smiling. We were having fun and I suddenly thought 'Ryan would still want me to have fun.' If I were ever sad, he would try to cheer me up. He didn't like me to be unhappy."

"He sounds like he was a wonderful man."

"He was. There's not a day, in the forty years since, when I didn't wish that he were back with me. But I've grown stronger and I can cope now. The one thing that I really miss are the dances."

"Dances?"

"We used to love go out to dances. Waltz, Foxtrot, Jive, anything that required a partner we loved to dance. Since he died I haven't danced once, not a proper dance. These modern dances you could be having a fit and no one would know the difference."

"You could still go..."

"I was talking to the boys Grandmother earlier today." Trixie was looking out the window again at the Tracy men and not listening to me. "She was telling me how every time they go on a mission, she's terrified that they won't return. They don't tell her all that happens, but she knows how dangerous their work is. She said it'd kill her if anything happened to one of them. Don't tell anyone else, but she also told me that every time she gets a medical check up, she gets them to check her heart. It's perfectly healthy for a woman her age, but she worries that with all the stresses in her life she might be damaging it. She thinks that if she developed any problems she'd have to move back to America. I told her that she'd be under more stress if she did that, because she'd only get the limited amount of information from the news bulletins, and they never have the full story. And she wouldn't have the therapy of looking after her family!"

"That poor woman..." I started to say.

There was a slight jolt and we realised that Thunderbird Two was starting to rise up on its hydraulic legs.

"She knows that International Rescue is her families life, and if, for any reason they were unable to do their work, it would kill them." Trixie ignored the motion. "It was like that with my Ryan. I know that he loved me enough that if I'd asked he would have given up being a Fire Fighter for me. But I also know that if he'd done that, not being able to do his job would have killed him, as surely as that speeding driver did."

"Trixie." I said quietly. "Why are you telling me this?"

"So you'd understand. That despite the fact that I flirt with those boys. No one, no matter how smart, how handsome, how brave, could replace my Ryan."

"I understand."

She sighed. "I haven't spoken about this to anyone for years, and here I am recounting the story twice in one day. Mind you..." Suddenly that roguish grin was back on her face. "...If I'd never met him and I were sixty years younger..."