Author's note: For a better understanding for the inspiration of this story, you may want to rewatch the episodes "Insanity Epidemic" and "Onward and Upward". And hey, while I'm at it, I'd like to thank Susan and Cindy for proof reading my story. Hopefully, the quotes and commas are in their rightful places now.
Chief Engineer Hank Stanley lovingly caressed the chrome of 'his' rig, Engine 143. He loved his job. He started to think back on his younger days when he and his brother would play with their toy fire trucks and save the whole neighborhood from fire and mass destruction. He knew at a young age exactly what he wanted to be when he grew up.
After what seemed to be a lifetime of training classes and physical fitness tests, he had achieved his boyhood dream of becoming a fireman. Not long after, he had passed his engineers test. Hank wondered to himself if someday he would ever make Captain.
Just then, Fireman Andrew Sabo walked into the bay area. Andrew, his friends called him Drew, was a 6'1'' stocky guy with hair as red as fire itself.
"Today's the big day, huh Hank?" Drew asked as he made his way across the bay area to where Hank was standing.
"What?" Hank mumbled as Drew woke him up from his pleasant day dreaming.
"Earth to Hank, today's the day we meet our new captain. You remember, Captain McConnike? The guy you've been nervous about meeting ever since you found out our Captain Hayes was retiring?" said Drew, now standing next to Hank.
As Hank continued to buff the engine, he answered, "Oh yeah, him. Look, I'm not nervous. I'm sure we'll all get along just peachy. It's just that I knew a guy who used to work with him. He didn't have anything negative to say about the guy. Though he said he never really felt at ease around him either. But the way I see it, they don't just make anyone Captain. You have to be one of the best firemen there is. You have to know all the ropes. So if the LAFD thinks he's the right man for the job, then so do I," Hank said, trying his best to sound matter of fact.
"I'll remember you said that." Drew was setting the ground work for an "I told you so" just in case it was needed later.
Just then a man walked in. He was wearing a fireman's uniform and carrying a white dress hat. Clutched in his hands was a duffle bag which held a change of clothes and a few toiletries. He was about 35 years old with dark, wavy hair and a friendly smile. He was a little pudgy around the middle but he still looked as though he was in great physical condition.
The stranger extended a hand and said, "Hi, I'm Capt. Robert McConnike and they tell me I'm supposed to be the new ringleader around here."
Hank set his polishing rags down. He took hold of McConnike's extended hand. "Pleased to meet you, Cap. I'm your Chief Engineer Hank Stanley and this is Fireman Andrew Sabo," Hank gestured to Drew with his free hand.
"Just call me Drew, sir," Drew said as he too shook McConnike's hand.
After shaking Drew's hand, McConnike said, "Well then, where's the rest of the station? I was hoping to get to know the men a little before we were thrown together in the line of duty."
"They're all in the dorm getting dressed. We still have 10 minutes before our shift," said Drew.
In the next 10 minutes, men from Station 143's C shift began to leave the station while Station 143's A shift filed in for work.
Once all were present, Capt. McConnike ordered a line-up and introduced himself to each man taking his time to repeat the name of each man whose hand he shook and photograph in his mind's eye the face that accompanied it.
There was Fireman Jack Clark - blond hair, hazel eyes and a crooked smile which women seemed to adore. Next was Fireman Lee Martinez. Lee was a latin man with deep brown eyes. The guys always liked to tease Lee because he was the shortest man in the department. Lastly there was Fred Douglas. Fred had straight brown hair which always seemed to droop into his eyes. Fred also liked to work out. Whenever the station was slow and there were no chores to be done, he could always be found in the weight room. It was rumored that if anyone had a shot at bench pressing a fire engine, it'd be him.
After all the introductions were made, McConnike asked Hank for a tour of the station - something that Hank was happy to do. As they were walking through the dorm, McConnike casually said to Hank, "You know, Captain Hayes and I are good friends. He's told me a lot about you."
"Nothing incriminating, I hope," said Hank, half smiling.
"Well, it all depends on how you look at it," McConnike said while making a waving gesture with his hand, also half smiling.
As Hank began to ask just what exactly McConnike heard, the claxons went off.
"Station 143, Squad 36, house fire. 1601 Rudolph Street. Cross street, Hoffman. Time out 07:25," came the voice from the speaker on the wall.
"Station 143, KMG-582" came Capt. McConnike's reply from the engine's CB radio as he climbed in. Hank climbed into the driver's side of the rig and waited briefly for the rest of the guys to jump in. Then they were off to the scene.
* * * *
Engine 143 pulled up to a house in flames. There were at least a dozen bystanders who seemed to be in the way and there was a man standing right in front of the house just looking at it with a blank stare.
McConnike yelled out over the chaos to his men. "Fred, Jack, grab 2 inch and a halves and start working on the north end of the house. Drew, Lee, grab a couple of axes and start ventilating the roof. Hank, when you're done with the pumps, see if you can get some of these people back." "Right Cap," came replies from the men.
Then, Squad 36 pulled up. Rescue men Mike Sanchez and Kevin Sabo (Drew's brother) hopped out of their squad, grabbed their turn outs and ran toward McConnike as they put them on.
"What do we have, Cap?" asked Kevin.
"Fully involved structure fire. Come with me while I find out some details," replied McConnike.
McConnike ran up to the man standing in front of the house. "Is this your house?" he asked.
"Ah, yeah. I don't know what happened. It just seemed to go up all at once," answered the dazed man.
"Look, that's not important right now," McConnike barked. He sounded all business now. "What I do need to know is if there is anybody left inside the house, and how did the fire start?"
"I was the only one home. I was making some lunch when a towel I had on the stove got a little too close to the gas flames and caught on fire.
Before I knew it, the curtains caught and then the fire just seemed to start speading across the kitchen. It looked like too much for me to handle so I ran out of there," the man explained.
Just then a sceaming woman came running towards the men. "Mark, oh my God, what happened?" cried the woman.
"Calm down honey, I'm OK, though I'm afraid I can't say the same for the house," said Mark as he tried to calm down his wife.
"Never mind that, where's Janie?" asked the woman to her husband.
"I thought she went shopping with you?" said Mark now sounding just as frantic as his wife.
"No, she wasn't feeling well so she stayed home to take a nap. Oh God," she yelled, "she's still in there." Both the woman and Mark started to run toward the house. McConnike was able to grab both of them and hold them back.
"Try to stay calm, we'll get her out of there," McConnike said.McConnike turned towards the rescue men who heard the conversation and were already putting on their air masks. "Sanchez, Sabo," he continued,and then pointed to the burning building.
"Right, Cap," said Sanchez and Sabo as they were already running towards it.
About 5 minutes later, Sabo came running out of the house holding a semi-conscious Twelve-year-old girl. Sanchez was only a few steps behind him.
"Janie!" Mark and his wife screamed simultaneously as they started running toward Sabo.
"She's fine," said Sabo with authority. "But I need you guys to stay back and give her some room," he said.
The parents backed off and Sabo laid the girl down on the grass, far away from the house. Sanchez ran to the squad and grabbed the first aid kit and O2.
"How's it look?" McConnike asked with concern.
"I think she's going to be fine, Cap. Only minor burns and a little smoke inhalation," Sabo said as he finished his examination.
McConnike then turned his attention back to the fire. The flames were just about out. His first thought was one of pride as he noticed just how quickly and efficiently his crew had knocked down the fire. He grabbed his Handie Talkie and spoke into it, "L.A., this is Engine 143. We have the fire under control. Engine 143 out 25 minutes."
"10-4 Engine 143," came the Handie Talkie's response.
* * * *
Every station had a list of chores that needed to be finished by the shift's end. Usually these chores were divied up by the Captain and given to the men. But since today had been pretty slow (they hadn't gotten a run since this morning), Hank decided to go ahead and buff the kitchen floor without waiting to be asked, knowing that it was his turn in the rotation. Hank was thinking to himself how nice it would be if the department allowed them to hire people to do the cleaning chores, leaving more time for the firemen to concentrate on fire department issues. And hey, on slow days like today it would give them more time to play poker.
Hank 's thoughts were interupted as he heard footsteps coming into the kitchen. He looked up to find Captain McConnike walking towards the entrance. McConnike was reading his log book as he walked and appeared to be heavily engrossed in the material. Instinctively, Hank tried to spit out, "Cap, watch, the floor is slippery." Instead, all he stuttered out was, "Cap, watch th...."
At this moment, McConnike's right foot shot all the way into the air as his backside fell straight to the floor. His log books hung in the air for a few seconds until gravity kicked in and spread them all over the floor as well.
Hank looked up to see papers, a log book and one very irratated looking captain laying on his newly waxed floor.
Hearing all the commotion, the rest of the station came running into the kitchen to see what the crash was. It took Drew all the strength he had not to break out into laughter at the sight. Instead, he just reached out his hand to help McConnike off the floor and asked him if he was all right.
"Just a bruise to the ol' ego. I think I'll live," McConnike said gruffly. The whole time, McConnike's gaze did not leave Hank.
"I'm so sorry, Cap. I guess I should have put a cone near the door or something. I wasn't thinking." Hank said, obviously embarassed.
"Hey, it's really not your fault," McConnike said. "I should have been paying attention to where I was going. I was just asking for trouble.In any event, no major harm done. Let's get back to work."
He looked at Jack and continued, "Jack, why don't you come with me and help me put all these papers back in order."
"Sure Cap," Jack quickly replied.
McConnike and Jack picked up all the papers off the floor and headed toward the captain's office.
Fred and Lee went back to the weight room, where Fred was trying to convince Lee of the values of a good sweat.
With the kitchen empty, Drew let out a laugh that stemmed from the pit of his stomach.
"Will you be quiet, you twit!" Hank gasped to his friend. "Do you want McConnike to hear you?"
Drew threw his arms up into the air. "What's the big deal, he didn't seem too upset."
"To you maybe, but I saw the way he stared at me! He had a look on his face that just bore into me." Hank almost sounded nervous.
"Oh, you're just being paranoid, Hank. Just let it drop and don't harp on it," Drew insisted.
The remainder of the night went by uneventfully. The station was called out on two more runs where everything went as smoothly as they could, considering how unpredictable fires can be.
The next day, however, was a different story. Very early that morning, the station was called out to a three-alarm fire at an oil refinery. It was complete chaos and took the whole morning to knock it down. It wasn't until about noon that the guys finally returned to the station.
As the guys filed off the engine, McConnike said excitedly to his men, "Since you guys did such a great job today, I'm going to fix you guys a treat for lunch. My world famous clam chowder!"
The men's first reaction was to shoot a look at Hank. Everyone knows that Hank makes the world's best clam chowder.
"That's great, Cap," Fred said.
Jack followed with a "Can't wait, Cap."
Drew just put his hand on Hank's shoulder and whispered into his ear, "Don't make a mountain out of this."
* * * *
Somewhere around 1 o'clock, soup was served. The guys sat down to their feast. Hank hated to admit it, but the kitchen did have a nice aroma to it.
Everyone sat down at their place at the table while Capt. McConnike spooned out portions into everyone's bowls.
The guys dug in while McConnike stood hovering, waiting for the reviews like a nervous mother hen.
"Hey, this is pretty good, Cap," Fred said surprised.
"Yes it is," everyone but Hank chimed in.
"What do you think Hank?", McConnike inquired of his chief engineer.
"It's...good...Cap." Hank said as if someone was holding a gun to his head.
"Ah, don't pay any attention to him, Cap," Drew mused. "He's just nervous because his reputation is at stake."
"Oh, what do you mean?" McConnike said in an enticing tone.
"Well Hank makes a damn good clam chowder himself," Drew finished as he slurped up another mouthful of McConnike's chowder.
McConnike clapped his hands together and smiled widely. "Is that so!" he exclaimed. "Well, Hank, you'll have to make us some next shift. I need to know how my competition is."
"Ah...well...Cap," Hank began to reply. Just then, the claxons went off.
"Station 143, brush fire. Miller's Canyon. Police will meet you at the north side of canyon. Time out 1:30."
"Saved by the bell," thought Hank as everyone ran for the door.
* * * *
After three days off, Station 143's A shift returned for their shift. Hank was in the dorm getting dressed when his friend Drew walked in.
"Howdy Hank," Drew greeted.
"I'm still not talking to you, Pal," replied Hank.
"Are you still harping on that?" Drew couldn't believe that Hank was still mad at him.
Hank said almost exasperated, "Why did you have to go and tell McConnike that I make a good clam chowder?"
"Because you do," Drew said matter of factly.
"Maybe it is good enough for you guys but he's my captain!" Hank said through gritted teeth.
"So, what's your point? Captain Hayes liked it just fine," Drew reminded Hank.
"Captain Hayes was different, he liked me. " Hank said dryly.
"I'm sure McConnike likes you too," answered Drew.
"What makes you say that?" Hank didn't believe Drew.
"What makes you say he doesn't? Look Hank, do you know how ridiculous you sound?" Drew was beginning to get annoyed with Hank's paranoia.
"Well you're not the one with anything to prove," Hank said almost to himself.
"What do you have to prove?" Drew asked as if Hank was making no sense.
"Oh, just that I am a competent fireman," Hank said as he was just about finished getting dressed.
"When have you proved the opposite?" asked Drew.
"Well, let's see.... how about the time I almost killed my captain by waxing the floor. Oh, and then there's that time I managed to get a flat tire in the rig. Let's not forget when I tripped over one of the hoses at the refinery fire last week and twisted my ankle. Am I missing anything?" Hank said sarcastically.
"Does the time you lost the keys to the engine count?" Drew asked helpfully.
"So you see where I'm going with this," Hank said with a sigh.
"Look, I'll admit you had a busy week but all those incidents could have happened to anybody," Drew said, knowing that he was wasting his breath.
"But they happened to me!" Hank half screamed. Just then a light went on in Hank's head. He snapped his fingers and said almost in a whisper, "So that's his plan, very clever!" Hank's tone was as if he was admiring a piece of fine art.
"I'm almost afraid to ask this, but do you want to clue me in on whatever insane notion is going through your head?" asked Drew hesitantly.
As Hank grabbed Drew by the shoulders and sat him down on a nearby bench, he said, "Don't you see it, Drew? It's almost perfect. But I'm on to him now, so it's not going to work." Hank explained, "Remember when McConnike fell? He said it himself, it hurt his ego. I made him look like an idiot in front of the men. And first impressions are lasting ones. I saw that look he gave me. I didn't know how to read it then but now I understand that it was an 'I'll get revenge' look. So he's trying to make me look bad in front of all of you so that his falling will look like another clumsy mistake of mine."
He continued, "Sure, it all makes sense now. While we were at that multi-vehicle traffic accident, there was rubble all over the place. During all the commotion, McConnike could have easily kicked a piece of metal debrie under the tire. At the refinery, McConnike told me which direction to run in order to get to the hydrant quicker. And if you remember, where did we finally find the keys to the rig? In McConnike's office, that's where! "
Just then Drew started to head for the door.
"Where are you going?" Hank asked. He was not yet finished mapping out McConnike's diabolical plans.
"To call the hospital. You need help!", Drew said. He knew his friend had finally crossed the line of insanity.
"Drew, how could you not see it? It's as clear as day!" Hank tried to convince Drew.
"The only thing that's clear as day is your over-active imagination coupled with your over-active paranoia." Drew was reaching his limit with his friend.
"It's a good thing McConnike didn't choose you as his punching bag. You're so oblivious, you'd never know what hit you." Hank sounded spent. He couldn't understand why Drew could not see the obvious.
"Dare I ask what your next move is, Napolean?" Drew jibed.
"Lunchtime, pal. You'll see, I'm going to make a clam chowder that makes McConnike's taste like pea soup! That should teach him a lesson in humility," Hank said as he began to plan his attack.
Hank was interupted by the sound of the claxon going off. "Lunchtime pal," he reiterated to Drew as they ran for the rig.
* * * *
It was almost noon and Hank was just putting the finishing touches on his chowder. Normally, Hank would just eye up the amounts of ingredients that he tossed into the pot. But today he had ol' grampa's handwritten recipe out and he was following it to the letter. This was not a time to be casual about it. This was for all the marbles.
Just then, McConnike walked into the kitchen.
"Mmmm...... smells great, Hank. I can't wait to try it. When will it be ready?" McConnike asked.
"About 5 more minutes, Cap," Hank replied.
"Hey, Hank, by any chance do you know where our drill book is? I can't seem to find it," McConnike inquired.
"Yeah Cap, it's in one of the drawers of the desk in the dorm."
"Really? I thought I looked in there real good. Would you mind getting it for me? I want to go over a few things with the men during lunch," McConnike asked innocently.
"And what, leave you alone with my clam chowder?! " Hank thought to himself.
Just then, the phone rang and McConnike went to answer it.
Now's my chance, thought Hank."Sure, Cap," said Hank as he ran to the dorm and was back in a flash. He then gave one final stir to the chowder before calling the rest of the guys. "Soup's on!", he yelled.
Just then, four more hungry firemen rushed into the kitchen.
"Smells great, Hank" was the common greeting of the men.
Hank spooned out portions for everyone, grinning from ear to ear the whole time. He knew he had beaten McConnike at his own game. And in minutes the rest of the station was going to know it too.
But instead of satisfied looks of happiness from his mates, Hank saw a bunch of faces with puckered cheeks.
"What's the matter guys?" asked Hank, now a little nervous.
"Ah, nothing, Hank. This is..ah...good," Fred said a little too quickly.
"The best," Jack added.
Hank lowered a spoon of his own into the pot and tasted his "masterpiece". And what he tasted was NOT what his ol' grandad ever had in mind for clam chowder. It tasted as though there was an ingredient in there which was not mixing very well with the natural flavor of the clams.
Instantly Hank remembered McConnike diverting his attention from the chowder by making him fetch the drill book. That had to be when he sabotaged it. I guess I wasn't fast enough, he thought.
Very calmly Hank said, "Sorry guys, I guess we got a bad bunch of clams. Excuse me a second while I make a phone call to the grocery store." And with that Hank disappeared through the kitchen door.
Drew had seen that 'calm' look on his best friend before. He was up to something. "I'd better go make sure he doesn't get too mean with the grocer. I'll be right back," Drew told the guys as he headed after Hank.
Drew ran into the dorm where he figured Hank would be making his call.But Hank was not in the dorm. Drew noticed that the coat closet door was open. Strange, he thought. That door is always shut. Just then, Drew glanced out the window and noticed Hank outside squatting on the ground."What now," Drew wondered as he ran outside.
With the way Hank had been acting these last couple of weeks, Drew somehow did not find it strange to see a small bonfire in front of his friend.
As the flames died down, Hank stood up and began to walk back toward the station.
"I feel better," was all Hank said as he passed Drew, who was staring in astonishment at the ashes that once made up McConnike's white uniform hat.
* * * *
About a year later, Chief Engineer Hank Stanley was once again polishing the chrome of 'his' rig, Engine 34. His captain, Captain Halloway, was walking towards him with the L.A. County Fire Department Superintendent in tow.
"Hey, Hank," Captain Halloway said. "Superintendent Stewart has some news for you."
Stewart extended his hand out to Hank. He said, "Congratulations Engineer Stanley, you have been promoted to the rank of Captain!"
Hank didn't know what to say. There were so many emotions running through his head that he couldn't sort out just which one to voice.
"This is an honor. Thank you very much. This has to be the best thing that has ever happened to me," he finally managed to say.
"I'm sure it's one of the best things that ever happened to the department, Captain Stanley," Stewart said, putting emphasis on the word 'Captain'.
"Well," the Superintendant continued, "I hope this doesn't seem rude but I have a very busy schedule today, so I must be going. Again, congratulations Hank and good luck."
As Stewart was walking away from Hank and Halloway, he turned back suddenly and said, "Oh, I almost forgot, Hank. I was over at 143's earlier today and Capt. McConnike asked me to give you a message."
Capt. McConnike. Now there's a name Hank hasn't heard since his transfer a year ago (at the department's strong suggestion, of course). Suddenly, Hank felt a knot in his stomach.
The legend of McConnike's hat was a story heard around the table of many fire stations. There was much speculation about why Hank did what he did. Neither Hank nor McConnike would talk about it. It appeared as though they had some kind of agreement to pretend it never happened. At least that's the way they acted towards one another in the presence of others.
Stewart's eyes twinkled as though he was also in on the joke. "I'm not sure what he meant by this but he told me to tell you to keep an eye on your hat." And with that, Stewart turned on his heel and walked out of the station, smiling to himself and leaving two speechless captains behind.