“Children,” Lacey, their first-grade teacher says in her professionally calm voice. “What did we talk about?”
The noise of their excited chatter overpowers her attempt to calm them.
“One, two, three. Eyes on me,” she says with a little more volume.
Some of the kids settle.
“Everyone, raise your hand,” Lacey says calmly. “Now touch your nose.” The kids all do. “And rest your hands in your laps.”
I almost rest my hands in my lap. She’s good.
All the kids are temporarily still and sedate.
“Let’s welcome Mr. Cody and Mr. Dustin to our classroom today just how we practiced,” Lacey instructs her students.
“Welcome to Miss James’ first grade class,” the kids say in an unsyncopated chorus, their words tumbling over one another.
She smiles over at us.
“Who’s excited to meet the firemen?” Dustin asks.
The room immediately erupts into chaos again. I shoot Lacey an apologetic look. Then I shoot Dustin a look that sayschill. Not that he will, but I can at least try to tame the beast.
“One, two, three,” I say. And surprisingly, all eyes are on me. “We’re here to tell you a little about our jobs. Then you can ask some questions. I think we’re going to read you a few stories about firefighters and then, if everyone is a good listener, we’ll go out to the truck and let you look around.”
A hand pops up in the back—a little girl in pigtails and a pink jumper. “Can we get into the tillerman seat?”
Okay, then. “Well, lucky for you, we brought the truck,not the engine today.” I look at the other kids. “The engine carries its own water supply. A truck like ours has ladders and tools and a seat up top in the back. Raise your hands if you’ve seen someone riding up there before.”
All the hands shoot up and a few kids shout out, “I’ve seen that guy!” and “I saw it!”
Lacey brings her finger to her mouth and makes a shushing sound. All the kids imitate her.
Dustin grabs one of the two books off Lacey’s desk and hands me the other. He hunkers down and sits criss-cross just like the kids. I almost chuckle, watching him fold his big frame. Then he proceeds to read the book, animating all the voices while the kids sit in rapt attention.
When it’s my turn, I remain standing, but I make eye contact.
“Do the voices!” one boy shouts at me, so I do. I make one voice for the thoughts of the dalmatian and a few others for the firefighters—not as well as Dustin, but the kids don’t seem to mind.
“Okay, now …” Lacey says when Dustin and I are finished reading. “You can ask Mr. Dustin and Mr. Cody questions. One at a time, please. And raise your hands.”
One boy up front shoots his hand up before she’s even finished giving her instructions.
“Yes, Michael?”
“Do you get scared of running into fires?”
It’s a question we get asked a lot by kids. I look at Dustin and he glances back at me.
“Fire is scary. And it’s dangerous,” I say, wanting to be sure they understand safety above everything else. “And anyone who isn’t trained how to be around fire should stay away from it.” I pause to let my words sink in. “I am not afraid anymore, though. But there have been times when fighting a certain fire has scared me.”
The kids are quiet, almost as if they understand the gravity of what I’m saying.
More hands shoot up and Lacey calls on a boy named Sean.
He asks, “What if you’re inside a fire and you have to go to the bathroom?” His face is dead serious, but the classroom erupts in giggles.
Another boy raises his hand, and before Lacey calls on him, he shouts out, “Do fires burn toilets?”
