Chapter Three
Halligan returned to the kitchen to inform Higbee of his newly granted day off. This might prove to be a very interesting day indeed.
"So, Higbee, it seems Mr. Kelly's nephew has given me the day off. Apparently, fixing the pool pump was all that was required. I'll bet he'd give the whole staff the day off if we asked for it," he added with a slight grin.
"Well...what are you going to do, then?" Higbee snorted, still cradling his injured finger in his other hand.
"Believe it or not, I'm going to join the gents for a beer!"
"Hmph. Well, on your way out, take these hors d'oeuvres with you. Might as well eat the ones I finished before I did this..." he said, holding up his right index finger.
"I'll do just that, Higbee my friend. I'll even put a good word in for you!" Halligan chuckled. "You know, I think I'll change into something other than this monkey-suit, first, I do believe! I'll be back for those in a minute." With that, Halligan left the kitchen, leaving an amused James Higbee behind.
~E!~
The young butler went to his quarters, a handsomely furnished apartment on the second floor. Though the entire mansion was air-conditioned, a definite luxury that not many enjoyed, Halligan still preferred the fresh air that wafted in. He walked over to the large balcony window and opened it, immediately the white sheers fluttered with the incoming breeze and Halligan smiled. "What a great day to have off!"
He stood in the center of the room and unfastened the buttons on his starched white shirt, relishing the breeze that cooled his chest. He tossed the shirt onto the large upholstered lounge chair and clasping his hands together, stretched his arms above his head, releasing the tension from his muscles. Bracing himself with one hand on the back of the lounge, he removed his shoes and socks, kicked them to the side, and wiggled his toes in the thick shag carpet. It appeared that with the removal of Halligan's formal attire, his formal behavior went with it.
With a deeply relaxed sigh, Halligan then unfastened the buttons of his pants and slid from them, letting them fall to the floor. Wearing nothing more than his boxers, he walked to his bedroom in search of swimming trunks, something he hadn't worn since taking the position here at the Kelly estate.
In the evenings, he could see the pool from his balcony and it was quite stunning when the lights glowed underwater in shades of pink and green. As it was, it was still mid-afternoon and Halligan was looking forward to relaxing. Those friends of Chet seemed an amiable bunch. He'd never met any firemen before, and admittedly, other than the bushy mustache, Chet didn't really fit Halligan's stereotype. He always assumed firemen were all beefed-up, tall, muscular athletic types, but none of this group were much over six-feet tall, and the one guy was pretty skinny for a fireman, Halligan thought as he rifled through the dresser drawers.
Finally, he procured a pair of dark blue swim trunks and tossed them toward the bed as he dropped trou. The trunks slid from the bed to the floor and Halligan bent over to retrieve them. As he did so, he noticed his chain- the one with the cross- lay on the floor, just barely beneath the bed. "Aha! Here it is!" he muttered, "I've been looking for you." He snatched the necklace from its hiding spot and placed it around his neck, tugging on it a little to be sure it was clasped tightly. He sat down on the bed and stuck his feet in the swim trunks and pulled them over his muscular thighs, giving the waistband a small snap. The past few months using the stairs in this enormous house had certainly paid off for his physique. However, his swim trunks seemed a bit too tight now. Not uncomfortably so, he observed, but still, he made a mental note to buy a new pair the next time he had a chance.
Donning a black t-shirt and slipping his feet into a pair of house-shoes, he grabbed one of the thick, white towels from the bathroom and draped it around his neck. He felt more like a guest at his own place of employment rather than a servant. It was a nice change.
Halligan returned to the kitchen and Higbee was nowhere to be seen. There was a note on the butcher-block counter. "Hal, the snacks are keeping warm in the oven. Had to go to the store. -H"
With a shrug, he removed the baking dish and made his way toward the patio. Six pairs of eyes looked up as Halligan returned with the tray.
"Gentlemen, here's a few things our chef made earlier. Shrimp and mango salsa on tortilla chips."
Roy wrinkled his nose with curiosity, and Johnny lifted one up to his eye to examine it more closely.
"Shrimp, huh? What's mango salsa?" Chet wondered out loud.
"Tortilla chips! Awright!" Marco rejoiced.
"I don't like fish, Chet, thanks anyway," Cap frowned.
"Mmph, mmph, 'dese 'r good," Mike said with a mouthful of the crispy treats.
"Cap! Shrimp aren't fish!" insisted Chet, "tell 'im, Halligan!"
"Technically, shrimp are crustaceans, sir."
"Then I don't like crustaceans," Cap told him.
Johnny grinned, "So... your name is Halligan, eh? Like the tool? Bet you get into a lot!" He added an elbow to Roy's ribs for effect.
"The tool?" Halligan asked, a bit bewildered.
John's smile faded. "Oh, uh, yeah, well, okay, maybe I should explain. A Halligan, well, that's something a fireman uses to break into, okay, we're not breaking into places, uh, you know it jams into..." Gage was embarrassed that Halligan didn't immediately "get" his attempt at fireman humor.
"It gets us in to places during a fire that might be blocked in some way. Like a locked door or maybe bars on a window, that type of thing," Roy saved, trying to help out his sputtering partner.
John whooshed out a breath, "Yyyeah...so, anyway...uh, I think I'm gonna get in the pool. Anybody else comin' in?"
Mike and Roy snatched more tortilla chips and shook their heads. Marco leaned back and popped the top from another beer bottle and passed it to Cap before taking for for himself. "Nope, not now."
"Chet? Halligan?"
"Yeah, sure, I'll go in," Chet said.
"I think I will too," Halligan told them, "but please, everyone just call me Hal."
Gage stood up and removed his t-shirt and sandals and walked over to the edge, where the pool reached ten feet deep. He bounced on his toes and gazed down into the water as if preparing for an Olympic dive. On the way to the diving board, Hal paused to strip off his t-shirt and use it to wipe the beads of sweat from his face before tossing it to one of the unoccupied chairs. For a man who didn't seem to get out much or wear anything but a suit and tie, he was tanned and looked as natural by the side of a pool as he did answering the front door.
Chet suddenly spewed his tortilla chip into his lap and burst out laughing. "What was I saying about chicken legs? Look at Johnny next to Hal! Gage has a chicken body!"
A/N- Yes, I'm hiding more firefighting tools and terms in this chapter. A cross-lay (Hal's chain) is a way of loading the hoses on a firetruck so they lay across it from side-to-side, rather than front-to-back. A Higbee cut (the Chef) is a modification on a "male" hose coupling to prevent cross-threading. That's when the threads on the male coupling aren't lined up right with the grooves in the "female" coupling and the parts don't join correctly and the threads get stripped. (Thanks, K!)