"There's a fire in heaven..." the little nasal voice on the other end of the telephone line tapered off into a whimper.
"What do you mean...a fire in heaven!" bellowed the police officer. "Was this a prank call?" Officer Jim Mason thought to himself, remembering in mild frustration the inordinate number of prank calls he had personally handled in his thirty years at the Balfour Police Station.
Balfour Lake was a small dreary town; population fifty seven if you counted the cats and dogs as well. But that didn't mean that Balfour Lake didn't have its fair share of crazies; those warped minds who got an intense thrill from "crying wolf" - those good for nothing pranksters who got their kicks from getting the two man police force of this sleepy little town to fly off on another wild goose chase.
"Officer Jim, are you there?" the squeaky voice startled the officer back to reality. Jim had drifted off a little; he had a tendency to do that these days. His mind was on his retirement function - only two weeks, three days and 6 hours to go...not that he was counting, of course. Thirty years in the police force would do that to anyone, and Jim felt that he had paid his dues - "earned his stripes", so to say. He had never been out of "Sleepy Hollow", his nickname for good 'ol Balfour Lake. Jim smiled to himself as he slowly repeated the words "Slee-eepy Hol-low" in his mind. "Yes, we police officers do have a sense of humour too", he thought to himself as his upper lip curled into a wry smirk.
"Officer, can you hear me?" the little voice was more insistent now. "Yes" Jim replied. His voice was calm but with a self-assured tone of authority. "What's the address there?" he quipped. He was expecting anything from "Follow the straight and narrow, and take the first turn right. You can't miss the pearly gates in front of you" to "It's the road parallel to Good Intentions Avenue - the one that leads to Hell". "Yes", Jim thought to himself, "I've heard this all before".
"Officer Jim, this is not a prank call. There's a fire in Heavenly Sweets, number 20 Main Street"
Jim knew Heavenly Sweets well. His wife of thirty five years, Martha, had a sweet tooth, and he would often stop by on the way home from work to get her a "sweet surprise", as he called it. The kids of the town all called the place "Heaven" for short; they said that they were in heaven whenever they shopped (and snacked at the same time) at the store.
"Officer Jim, are you there?" the trembling voice seemed to be panicking now.
"Right you are, little Tim", Jim now recognized his neighbour's son's voice - little Tim Hart; all of ten years old but a child that was wise beyond his years. "I'm dispatching the fire truck now; Bob and I are on our way. Tell Uncle Joe to make sure that no-one is in the store and to stand clear of the building.
The siren screeched like a Banshee on methylated spirits when Jim pressed the fire alarm button.
He waited for the drone of the siren to silence before yelling to Bob to get the fire truck started. Yes, the police force doubled up as the fire emergency team in Balfour Lake; just another day at the office for Jim and Bob in "Sleepy Hollow".
