Elmira's Embers

Three

Dinner at 55 was always a gamble. Sometimes the food was decent, other times it was downright repulsive, and, occasionally, the guys got tired of cooking and just ordered something. Today miss Elena Riley was in charge of cooking. The second the guys walked in and looked at the board of chores Brooke had designed, they wiped their brows in relief and pumped their fists in victory. It was no doubt that Riley was the best cook in the house.

"What's on the menu today, Riley," asked Firehouse 55's resident giant Tim 'Tiny' Silva.

Before she could answer Tiny, the Squad guys came piling in from their call. They each took a big sniff of the kitchen air and slid their red suspenders off their shoulders, leaving them hanging at their legs.

"Do I smell soup?" Squad member Cosmo Auburn asked, passing bowls to his fellow firefighters.

"Yes you do. Get ready for some kale soup, fellas." Elena heard a collective groan at the mention of a healthy meal. "Hey! Hey! Fellas!" she shouted over the complaining men. "It's my grandmother's recipe. Trust me it doesn't taste nearly as healthy as it sounds."

"Avó Maria?" Tiny questioned, getting excited at the mention of Elena's Portuguese grandmother.

Elena chuckled, spooning soup into the bowl sitting in front of Tiny. "Yes, it's her recipe."

The men all looked closely at Tiny, waiting to see if the soup was any good. This was a system they had here at the house. Tiny would eat absolutely anything, whether he liked it or not. If he smiled after the first bite, then the food was good and safe for the others to eat. If he raised one eyebrow before continuing, the other members of the house stayed clear of the concoction. Tiny raised the spoon to his mouth, completely oblivious as to why everyone was watching him so closely. He gave a satisfied smile and a nod to Avó Maria's soup on the stove in front of Elena.

"Alright, boys. Someone pass me a bowl," Chacko piped up.

The men enjoyed the lunch and returned to lounging around the house waiting for another call. Brooke and Tasha had been out on a call while the men all dined, so the soup had gotten cold by the time they returned.

The house hadn't gotten many calls that day, which was odd, considering they usually had at least 5 or 6 calls in their 24 hour shift. The crew was careful not to mention it, as they were afraid to jinx the relaxing day they had. Since they hadn't had a busy day, they continued on with their drills and chores all day before retiring to the dorm to get some sleep.

It was nearly 11PM as the members of the house shed their radios and climbed into their beds. Needleman was one of the last in bed, as he always insisted on doing at least 50 crunches before sleeping. "I wonder what's goin' on," he said.

"What do you mean, Dud."

"I mean, we're all going to bed and truck hasn't gotten a single call. Only Squad and Ambo have gone out. That doesn't happen very often."

"Are you kidding me?" Elena complained.

"He did not just say that," Robin Kupor sat up and sunk his head in his hands. Members of truck all pulled their blankets back and sat up.

As predicted, the loud, piercing sound of the claxon filled the house, warning the company that they had a call. "Truck 17, Truck 96, Squad 8, Engine 21, Ambo 11, Ambo 39, Battalion 62, structure fire. Corner of 86th and Raymund," the dispatch assigned two different firehouses to the scene.

"Thanks a lot, Needleman," Lt. Mathers shook his head.

"This is a big one, guys, expect the worst," Lt. Tomford warned as the residents of Firehouse 55 all put on their turnout gear and loaded the trucks.