Firehall

The problem wasn't so much the members of the Chesterville Volunteer Fire Department

as it was the size of the firehall. No place for eight men to sit down. A fire could happen at any

time, which is what they told their wives and mothers. It was a matter of public safety that they

all be together, and be near the firehall, which is what they told their wives and mothers.

The closest place to the firehall was McCloskeys Bar, which their wives and mothers

knew.

The alarm was on the top of the firehall and McCloskeys only had single pane glass so

the boys could hear it real easy. Save for Gunner Elliot. He was one of the Elliots. Big military

family. It was their way of seeing a bit of the world before settling down in town. Gunner had

traded in most of his hearing for a new nick-name while serving. The rest of the boys could hear

it real easy, that is, until Dougie One got in a fight with Old Man McCloskey and got them all

banned. Dougied been without his second testicle for almost twenty-five years now - he

outpaced the Andersons bull, but misjudged the height of the barbed wire fence - but he still

started swinging if someone made a joke while either his patience was thin or his blood-alcohol

was too high.

So, quick as a kid loses one of his nuts, the eight of them were standing out back of

McCloskeys. Junior and Slow Fyke, Gunner Elliot, Cob, Five Finger Louie, Dogga Dogga Coon

Shit - who was called either Coon or Shit, depending on the situation - Ralph, and Dougie One.

Dougie-maybe-zero, the way the rest of the boys were looking at him.

Why the fuck we out here? Gunner hadnt heard Old Man McCloskey shouting, but just

followed the boys out.

 Beats me, mumbled Slow, who also had an excuse for not knowing what the hell was

going on: he was an idiot.

The Fykes were a big family in a small town, and due to the relation between those two

facts, their lineage looked a bit like a big Christmas bow: criss-crossing back and forth on itself a

few times. None of them were that bright, but Slow was a real low-wattage type of guy. The dim

star on the top of the Christmas tree.

Five Finger spoke up. It was getting busy anyways. It hadnt. And its a nice

afternoon. It wasnt. It was hot as hell. Yous wanna walk over to the Commercial?

Shit Lou, thats a bit of a hike eh! That was Junior. For a man with that name, he was

anything but the little one. Tall, and skinny everywhere but his belly. That was a thing to behold.

No one knew how he ever stayed upright, and his T-shirt never quite hid the expanse.

Happy to roll you J.R.

I think weve had enough of that fat lip of yours, One. With that, Cob left the parking

lot, followed closely by all the rest. Save for Slow, who got all turned around and had to catch

up.

So the Volunteer Fire Department arrived at the Commercial Hotel. It was on the other

side of the Nation River, about a kilometre from McCloskeys. And the firehall. The town wasn't

so busy in those days, so they could all still hear the alarm over there. Except for Gunner, who

still couldnt. They pulled a few tables together in the bar at the front of the Hotel.

Yous need menus? slurred a thin woman who was too old for the top she wore.
 Three pitchers of whatevers cheap, and a G&T for the little woman here. Cob put his

arm around Ralph, who couldn't drink beer.

Just another glass for me, corrected Ralph. One gin, and his nickname had almost been

Mother. It didn't matter how sick it made him feel, it was beer or bust from here on.

They got their pitchers. Dougie filled the glasses. The alarm on the fire station rang three

times. They all heard it, save for Gunner, but all of them looked a little confused.

The thing with men, especially groups of men, is they like to break things. The thing with

drunk men is they like it even more. Give eight drunk men a fast red truck and a bunch of axes,

and, well: the Volunteer Fire Department didn't get a lot of calls when the weather was warm

enough to have the garden hoses still on.

Junior downed his beer, and Slows beer: Slow had taken off so fast when he heard the

alarm he hadn't even thought of his drink. The rest hustled after him, running past Mrs. Davids

haberdashery, and around the corner of the Bank of Nova Scotia.

Junior stopped. Yous all go on ahead. Shirt was riding up over that gut, while his pants

were falling south. Just pick me up here.

So they went on without him, Coon knocking over trash piled outside of Casselmans

Grocery Store while he ran. Gunner was the only one that laughed. Everyone else thought he was

being a Shit, making all that noise.

And soon they were back. Cob chucked Juniors pants and boots to him, which he pulled

on quick for a man of his girth.

 Where you takin us Ralph? Ralph wasnt that great with an axe. He was usually the

least drunk, so he was usually driving.

I dont know boys, Im just the driver.

They all paused. No one had checked.

Three rings eh? That was Louie now, always thinking. That means its in town at

least.

Gunner climbed up onto the ladder. Raise me up boys. Ill see if I can see smoke.

So they cranked the ladder, Gunner at the zenith.

What you see up there Gunner? shouted Ralph.

No response.

Gunner?!

He cant hear you, said Junior.

Gunner!!?? screamed Slow.

Still deaf.

Hey, shouted down Gunner, finally, yous are never gonna guess whats smoking!

So the Volunteer Fire Department arrived back at the Commercial. Dougie One chopped

through the unlocked back door, and Coon, Gunner, and the Fyke boys raced into the kitchen at

the back of the hotel. Smoke, steam, but no flames.

This some sort of prank? accused Gunner as the manager, Eddy, walked into the

kitchen.
 Sorry boys, false alarm; tried to grab yous. New girl got panicked by a little fire, but we

handled it.

What? shouted Gunner.

Yeah, she spooked real easy. She's just on the front door from now on.

Gunner didn't care enough to ask him to speak up again so left the room.

We just dumped the soup on it actually, laughed Eddy. The garbage beside the stove

was still steaming. But Jesus Dougie, he swore I cant believe the balls on you, chopping up

this brand new door!

What the fuck did you say about my balls Ed? Luckily, Dougie One had left his axe by

the door.

And the next morning, the Volunteer Fire Department applied for a permit to enlarge their

firehall, because there were no more bars that would have them.