Chapter 14
"Come on! Another Red-Shirt got killed?"
"Of course Chet! It's always the Red-Shirts that die." Marco jokingly chided.
"How do they still have a crew of 500? I mean if at least one of them dies per episode, and in some episodes twenty of 'em die, then how can they still have a 500-man crew?"
The ending credits rolled across the screen.
"Well, Chet," Mike answered from his place at the table with Roy and John, "that's the beauty of science-fiction. Anything can happen and there doesn't need to be an explanation."
"Well, if I ever write a book, it's gonna be a science-fiction novel and I'm going to explain where all these people went and how new people appeared to replace them."
"If you ever write that book, let me know. I'll be sure to write a review for the New York Times. I can see it now, printed on every newspaper in the world: Chet Kelly's new sci-fi novel is as out-of-this-world as he is." John joked.
Roy snickered, along with Mike, bowing their heads to hide their amusement.
"You know what Johnny? At least my idea will be new, unlike your game show."
"Shhh! There's another episode coming on!" Marco hushed his friends, turning his attention to the new episode.
As the banter calmed, Mike, John, and Roy joined their friends in front of the tv. Soon, all six were together, some strange new world taking their attention. Well, the attention of all except Hank. In fact, although he'd greeted the paramedic team upon their return, their presence hadn't registered in his mind. Despite staring at the tv, the scenes flashing across the screen didn't register in his brain either.
"That's really short notice, isn't it?"
Her hands reached across the counter, coming to a rest on his. His hands were cold; hers were warm. His face frowned; hers held a delicate composition of ecstasy and hesitation. His eyes spoke when his mouth couldn't saying, "I don't know what to do." Her eyes spoke when she knew that words weren't what he needed saying, "I don't know either, but we'll figure this out together."
It was days like this one that Emily Stanley was grateful for her daughters' involvement in sports. Across town, she knew that the two were already drenched in sweat at their respective practices, likely cursing at her for dragging them out of bed that morning. She inwardly snickered as the thought passed by before quickly re-attuning to the questionable state of her husband.
As he stared into her eyes, he knew what she was saying. He nodded. She held his hands more firmly, knowing that if she didn't, he might float away.
"Em, I…I'm so confused. This is what I've wanted for a while now. We've talked it over so many times. It's just that now, it's happening. And I don't know what to do."
He felt guilty, dragging her into yet another conversation about it.
It. That's the word he'd begun using whenever the promotion came up.
"I know just how much you want this. But let me ask you something. Why do you feel guilty?"
His mouth dropped open.
"It's written all over your face, honey. You're feeling torn up about something and you won't let yourself admit what that is."
She loosened the grip on his hands, knowing that he would turn around, pace toward the kitchen window, and cover his face.
She smiled as she watched him lean his forehead against the glass.
'You know me too well, Emily.' He thought.
Slowly, she crept behind him, caressing his biceps as she wrapped her arms around him.
"Why do you feel guilty?" She whispered.
If anyone had dared to peak through the kitchen window that morning, they would have seen what appeared to be a pair of lovers embracing one another affectionately. They wouldn't have noticed the muscles in Emily's arms tense as she supported her husband's weight.
"Edward Griffiths didn't make the list."
"Huh?"
"Edward Griffiths didn't make Chief."
This time it was Emily's turn to be speechless.
"I got the official list from the Chief today and he wasn't on there. I called him. Damn was he upset. I just can't believe it. He was my first partner after the academy. We both got promoted to Engineer at the same time. Heck we both made Captain at the same time too…and he almost got 51s. Then Louise's mom got sick so he opted for 91s to be closer to home."
"That's so sad to hear. He's an amazing captain."
"He is."
"Is that why you're feeling guilty? Because you made the list and he didn't?"
He stared out the window, watching birds fly from tree to tree in the yard.
"There isn't a man who would be better for the job than Eddy. I've watched his career. The man is a natural leader with a mysterious intuition. He's never had a man get seriously injured under his command. He's….He's the kind of man I wish I could be."
"And exactly what kind of man is that?"
"One who doesn't let their men down."
While on the clock, there were exactly five things that could jolt him from a trance: the smell of smoke, the doorbell, "Cap?", "McConnicke", and the ringing of the telephone. It was on it's third ring when he picked it up from the receiver.
"Station 51, Captain Stanley speaking."
'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
"Okay, Chief. Thank you."
'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
"Goodnight, Sir."
"The Chief at this time of night?" Mike watched Hank lean against the doorway.
"Yeah."
"What'd he want?" Chet asked.
"Well, long story short, I've got a lot of paperwork to do tomorrow. So, I'm going to bed. And, I recommend that as soon as this episode is over, you guys join me."
He left.
"That was weird." John remarked.
"Tell me about it." Roy said.
The station was quiet, save for the rumbling snores, as Hank laid staring at the ceiling. The road was emptier than usual, scarcely would headlights beam through the windows. The conversation replayed in his mind.
"Station 51, Captain Stanley speaking."
"Hank? It's McConnicke. Sorry to call this late at night, but I thought you might want to know. Since everything is public now, the Brass is itching to get things moving if you know what I mean. There's a good chance that some of the Board is going to show up at the station in the morning to talk to you."
"Okay, Chief. Thank you."
"There's also been an update to the minutes. I'll bring it in the morning. I'll try to sneak in without your boys seeing me….Anyways, I'll be there around 8:00. Goodnight, Hank."
"Goodnight, Sir."
The conversation continued replaying as he fell into a restless sleep where he recounted the last conversation with his wife.
"Honey?"
Emily looked up.
"Do you think things will change?"
She laid her knitting on the coffee table.
"What things?"
"Everything. When I become Chief."
"Of course things are going to change…how could they not?"
"I know."
She could tell there was more.
"We've talked in-depth about us and how this change will affect our family. Is that what you're worried about?"
"No. Well yes, but no…I know things will be different but we'll be okay. It's…."
"It's the guys you're worried about."
"Yes."
His brown eyes were wide with concern, perhaps even fear.
"You're worried about how those relationships are going to change."
"Yes."
She scooted next to him on the couch.
"They will change. I can't tell you if for the better or for worse. All you can do is wait and see."
"And that's what bothers me. I don't want things to change. If I could be Chief, but work out of 51s, with my men beside me, I would."
"This is what's holding you back."
"What?"
"The one thing holding you back from jumping at this opportunity. You know what? Not even this opportunity. The thing that would hold you back from taking any promotion is the idea of losing your crew."
"Yeah, it is." He resigned.
"I'm going to ask you a question and you have two seconds to respond after I ask. I want your honest, first reaction."
"Okay?"
"Would you pass up a promotion just to keep your crew together?"
"Yes."
He froze. That was it. The truth. The thing he'd known all along, and perhaps had mentioned to one degree or another, but never truly acknowledged. He didn't want to lose his crew, because they weren't just a crew. They were a family.
"We are a family, Em. I don't want to betray them."
"I know you are. God knows I love your boys. Besides, without Roy and Mike I never would've met JoAnne and Hannah. Here's the thing. As much as you don't want to break up your crew, think about Mike. From what you've told me, it seems like he's gonna be up for a promotion pretty soon. Do you think he'll pass it up? What about the other guys? A few years back, Roy was up for that promotion. If he had been able to keep his paramedic license, do you think he would have taken it?"
"Do you think he would have taken it?"
"Do you think he would have taken it?"
"Do you think he would have taken it?"
The words echoed, gaining strength with each reverberation. Like two waves in synch, the words screamed louder in his head until he bolted awake.
"…Station 51, Station 65, Station 86…"
The wake-up tones shattered the dream. Reaching for the radio, he noticed how heavily his hand was shaking. Almost afraid to respond to the tones, he took a deep breath and swallowed.
"Station 51, KMG 365."
He stood, pulled up his turn-out pants, and grabbed his sweater.
"Come on Gage, time to wakey wakey." Chet poked the paramedic's back.
"Shut up Chet." John muttered, pulling his pillow over his head.
"Someone's grouchy this morning."
"I wouldn't be grouchy if you didn't snore so loud that I kept waking up every five minutes."
Normally, bicker at 6:00 was annoying. Today, he was thankful for it.
"Somebody make breakfast. And coffee."
Lots of coffee.
Hank's command boomed across the room, before he leaned towards Mike and whispered, "I'll be in my office. You can take care of things in here…" He noted the pillow that had just been whipped from the vicinity of John's bed toward where Chet was standing. "Have Marco put on the coffee." He patted Mike's shoulder and left the chaos of the morning in the capable hands of Mike Stoker.
But before he left the room, he hovered by the door a moment and looked over his shoulder. Standing over his partner's bed was Roy.
"Do you think he would have taken it?" Emily's voice sounded in his head.
Hank turned away, the door swinging shut behind him.
A strong aroma wafted into the office as Hank tapped his pen against the table.
Coffee and Waffles.
Hank smiled. It was risky for a fireman to cook a breakfast such as waffles. It was rare that they'd be able to sit down and enjoy it.
"Squad 10, man down. 419 North Cunningham. 4-1-9 North Cunningham. Time out, 6:56."
"Squad 10, KMG 257."
At least we didn't get the first run of the morning.
In fire department time, "morning" began at the 6:00 wake-up tones. What happened before that was anyone's guess.
He was considering whether to join the crew for breakfast when a new smell wafted through the station.
For the love of the Fireman in the Sky. Who let Chet Kelly catch something on fire this time?
His first instinct was to grab an inch-and-a-half, but before he could see that instinct through, a disgruntled Mike strode into the office with two plates of waffles and two mugs of coffee.
"My goodness Mike! How did you carry all of that without spilling it?" Hank rushed to lighten Mike's load.
"I didn't want to make a second trip back to the kitchen."
"What happened in there?"
"Marco, may God bless him, decided to make waffles. Chet, decided to try and throw some waffle mix at Johnny. He dropped the spoon on the stove."
"You know what? I'm not even going to ask what's going on inside that man's head."
"Good, because I don't have an answer."
The two laughed and began cutting away at their respective waffles in a friendly silence.
"Engine 10, assist Squad 10. 419 North Cunningham. 4-1-9 North Cunningham. Time out 7:15."
"Engine 10, KMG 257."
"I wonder what that's about." Mike pondered aloud.
"Don't know."
Shoveling another forkful in his mouth, he shook his head.
The stench of burnt waffle batter was still dominate in the air when they finished their breakfast. Waiting until Hank put down his fork, Mike watched with a nervous curiosity, unsure of how to bring the topic up to his captain.
Noticing the apprehension, Hank spoke first.
"Something on your mind?"
"Yes. I was wondering if the Board ever sent out the minutes."
Straight to the point.
Hank froze.
"I forgot to hang them on the board!"
From the reaction, Mike realized that Hank had in fact forgotten about the minutes. From the razor-beam glance at a paper turned face-down on the side table, Mike supposed that that was the copy he'd seen the previous morning. From the sudden change in disposition, Mike deduced that Hank's nervousness was an admission of guilt for deliberately hiding the document. He seemed to be avoiding Mike's quizzically piercing gaze.
"Why did you take it down?"
He winced, pulling his shoulders inwardly, his spine hunching forward at the direct question. As he raised his gaze, he was met with one of expectation, the same one he'd given his men time and time again. It was like looking in a mirror.
"Yesterday morning, I saw you take it down from the bulletin board. Later on you said you'd hang it after finishing some paperwork, but never did. We had quite a busy day and I believe that you forgot about it. Heck, I almost did too. But why did you take it down?"
"How do you know I took it down?" His tone changed. It wasn't anger, but defensiveness scratched a harsh line in his voice.
"I saw you."
"How did you know that it was even there to begin with?"
"Because I saw Captain Mancuso hang it up."
He was trapped. Caught. Like a fish out of water or a feral cat in a cage, he couldn't escape. He desperately tried to think of something, but his attention hooked itself on a new look in Mike's eyes. There was no judgement or accusation. No anger or hurt. Just caring. His feeble attempt at defensiveness dissolved.
"What time did you get here yesterday?" He could only whisper.
"About 7:00."
Hank nodded.
"Why so early?"
"I wanted….no. I needed to see the Board minutes."
"Why?" He gulped.
"Because you aren't okay. Something has been different about you ever since you took the exam. You've been jumpy, almost afraid of your own shadow. And…" he hesitated, "it's not just you. Emily's been acting strange too. She dropped by last week to give something to Hannah and she barely spoke. Hannah said that she's been like that for a few weeks now."
Hank looked down at the table.
I didn't know how much he knew.
"The morning you told us you passed, you didn't tell us everything. I know you Hank. I could tell there was more, but I didn't want to push you, especially with the other guys around. When you were explaining how they hand out promotions, you looked at me. That's when I put it together. You were telling me that you'd been offered a position. Between all the visits and phone calls from the Chief, I knew that something had to be going on behind the scenes. And now that you've been hiding the Board minutes from us…"
Hank's heart broke.
"I've been waiting for you to tell me about it. I've been waiting for my best friend to talk to me about something as life-changing as this. You haven't. So I've been worried that maybe I was all wrong and that there's something else going on entirely…."
I didn't realize how much my silence was hurting my best friend.
"I came early hoping to get here before you…Captain Mancuso let me see the file before he put it up."
"So you know?" Hank managed to sputter out, his voice wavering.
"I know."
"Does anyone else know?" He choked on the words.
"From our shift? No. From Mancuso's? I don't think so. I think they were all too focused on going home to walk over and read it."
Unable to speak, he simply nodded his head.
"We are all worried about you. I know you couldn't tell us about the offer. And I think I can understand why you didn't let us know about everything else that's been going on in your head. It's not easy to talk about something that you can't find words to explain."
He found a reason to smile.
"I think you hit it right on the mark."
"Can I ask you something?"
Hank nodded.
"You knew that you'd be leaving, so you helped me study for the captain's exam so that I could maybe take your place. If I scored high enough."
It was more a statement than a question, but Hank answered anyways.
"I know you'd been studying for months, but I wanted to give you the best shot at scoring high. I know how much this station means to you and I wanted to give you as many options as possible."
Now, Mike was speechless.
"Are you disappointed in me?"
"Why would you think that Hank?"
"For not telling you what was going on. For leaving you in the dark. There have been times recently where my head hasn't been in the game. I've almost gotten you guys hurt because of it. I let you down."
Regaining his composure Mike leaned forward.
"I think the only person you're letting down is yourself. For not giving yourself enough credit. Besides, that's why we work as a team. So that no one gets let down."
A simple silence overcame them as they embraced the uninterrupted solitude they'd been gifted that morning. Plates and forks clinked in the kitchen, a tell-tale sign that breakfast was over and the day ought to begin. Unspoken agreement passed between them and the two men stood.
"I'll ask the guys to stay after shift change. I will also let them know that you have the minutes and forgot to hang it up last night."
"Chief will be here at 8. I guess some of the Brass wants to talk—that's why he called last night. They might show up too."
He saw the fear in his friend's eyes, an acknowledgement that this was real.
"I'll let them know about the Chief coming. I'll tell them to 'act normal.'"
Hank snickered.
"Hank?"
"Mike?"
They spoke at the same time.
"Thank you." In unison they extended their right arms, their hands meeting in the firm grip of a handshake.
