Adjusting the whistle hanging around her neck from a colorfully braided lanyard, the teacher grinned again, stepping out of the classroom to join her students and the yard duty already out on the blacktop.
Mitch wasn’t new to this particular responsibility. He’d visited several classrooms back at his last job. But he didn’t anticipate being relegated to it so quickly, not when Captain Anderson had seemed so impressed with him initially.
Still, Mitch understood it was an important task for any firefighter. Teaching fire safety techniques was a passion of his, knowing that the sooner kids comprehended the dangers and the procedures, the better. There were no small roles when it came to firefighting.
Adjusting his stack of papers once, then again, he paced the front of the room, eager to get things started. Public speaking wasn’t his forte. In fact, he tried to avoid it at all costs. And while he should be less intimidated since the age of his audience was younger, that only added to his nerves. Kids could be ruthless.
That truth was quickly reinforced when one particularly rowdy young boy bounded into the classroom, his eyes sizing up Mitch from the moment he barreled through the classroom door.
“Why aren’t you out fighting fires?” The kid dropped into his seat at the first desk in the front row, sweaty and out of breath from the break. Mitch had a feeling the child had been assignedthis particular seat for a reason. He more than likely needed a consistent, watchful eye to keep him in line.
“There aren’t any fires to put out at the moment, and as you’ll learn in a few minutes once I begin my presentation, firefighters do a lot more than just deal with flames and smoke. As emergency responders, we have a whole plethora of responsibilities.”
“A pletho-what?” the boy sneered.
Mitch cleared his throat before adjusting his vocabulary. “We have a lot of different responsibilities,” he amended.
“My uncle is a fireman,” a little brunette in the third row wearing a cheerful yellow dress said, her hand quietly raised. “In New York City.”
“Wow!” the boy shouted. His hand thwacked the top of his desk loudly. “I bet that’s a lot more fun than being a fireman around here.”
“It’s great fun being a firefighter in Snowdrift Summit.” Mitch sensed the train running away from him, the wheels of his presentation beginning to fall off before he’d even officially started.
“All right, class.” Miss Morgenstern summoned her classroom’s attention with a single percussive clap. Then she followed up with a pair of claps, prompting the students to echo her in unison. “Let’s save our commentary for the end of Firefighter Abernathy’s time with us. But before we get started, let’s all give him a warm, Morgenstern Class welcome.”
“Good afternoon, Firefighter Abernathy,” the class crooned as one sing-song voice.
“Good afternoon, class.” Mitch attempted to mask the shaky tenor in his voice. Fighting an actual fire suddenly felt a lot less nerve wracking than the current task at hand. “I’m very happy to be here to share some tips on fire safety with you.”
“Do you have a dog?” the outspoken boy in the front interrupted again.
“Zachary, please give Firefighter Abernathy the floor.”
“But the last guy had a dog,” Zachary insisted. “And he let us pet itandgive it treats.”
“Yes, Holden Hart did let us pet Scout, his Search and Rescue dog,” the teacher confirmed, nodding. “But Mr. Abernathy is a different sort of first responder, and he didn’t bring any animals with him today.”
“Bor-ing,” Zachary drew out the syllables to emphasize his obvious frustration. “Did you at least bring the firetruck so we can sit in it?”
The entire class erupted in an excited cheer at the prospect of climbing into the big, red rig.
Mitch wasn’t about to let a six-year-old completely derail things. He had to redirect. “I didn’t bring a dog or a truck, but I did bring my turnout gear, and if everyone can listen politely during my presentation, then you’ll each get a chance to try it on. Does that sound like a good plan?”
“Your helmet, too?” the young girl a few rows back asked.
“My helmet, too.”
Thankfully, Mitch’s proposal was met with overwhelmingly more excitement than disappointment, even if Zachary wove his arms over his chest with an audible huff, still unsatisfied.
You can’t please them all, Mitch thought to himself as he grinned, aware kids like Zachary were often the ones who not only kept things interesting, but more often than not, ended up in adrenaline-fueled jobs just like his.
Mitch pausedat the top of the stairs.
He glanced over at Faith’s apartment. Through the front window, shadow and light played on the walls, the glow from a television indicating Faith was home and just on the other side of that door.
Why did that information make his heart rate speed up like he’d just sprinted the full flight of stairs?
He took a big breath, vacillating between marching over and knocking on her door or letting himself into his own apartment to lock the temptation completely out.
