I made it to headquarters with five minutes to spare. I walked into the chief's outer office and was greeted by a smiling Renee. "Good Morning Captain Baldwin. Chief Hall is with County Executive Lawson right now. Have a seat. I'm sure he knows you're here, I reminded him ten minutes ago." She laughed.
"Renee, you know you don't have to be formal with me. How long have I known you?" I chuckled as I took a seat in front of her desk.
Renee is a heavy set black woman about 325lbs. She is very friendly, has a pleasant way about her, is always smiling and has a contagious jovial laugh. She never married, and has no children, although she has a very pretty Whitney Houston face. She has been the chief's personal secretary since he was hired twelve years ago. She was a fire/ems dispatcher beforehand, and was responsible for dispatching me to a woman in labor twenty-one years ago today. As you all know by now, that woman was Corinne. Had I not started dating Corinne, I probably would've asked Renee out on a date. Every so often, maybe once or twice a year, I take Renee out for lunch on my duty day if I happen to be at headquarters. I have never seen her wear anything but a uniform.
"Oh about twenty-one years I figure." She laughed.
"Ya know..." I lowered my voice a little. "...I'm here today. That means I get to ask you for lunch. We can go to that place on the beach. Just don't order potato salad." I finished with a smile and a chuckle.
"Sounds good." Renee laughed. "You know I can't resist the potato salad there. I would be more careful this time not to get any on my boobs." She laughed again. "But I'm going to have to turn you down today. I'm buried in paperwork. Next time." She finished with her jovial laugh.
We talked for a few minutes, while patiently waiting for the chief to finish his meeting with the county executive. She asked how Corinne and Kayla were doing, with a little smile on her face. We talked about a few of the funnier calls she dispatched me to until I tried to get serious on her about the meeting I unexpectedly had with the chief.
"So what is this meeting about Renee?" I asked curiously. "Who did I piss off this time?"
She gave me one of her big smiles and said: "I can't tell you Brad. It would ruin my reputation as the best secret keeper. Besides, this is something you would want to hear from him. Not me."
The door behind her opened, and the chief poked his head out and told me to come in. I walked in, stood at attention, and was about to salute him when he waved me off. "No need for that in here Brad." He laughed at me. "Have a seat."
The county executive sat in a chair in front of the chief's desk. He stood up to greet me and offered the chair next to him. Chief Hall asked me how Corinne was, and my children, and ended with my sister. Not much to say about her, but it did remind me to stop and check on her today. I got to hand it to the chief, he knew the personnel under his command. The three of us conversed about fishing, vacations, cars, and politics a little before I asked why I was there.
"I don't mean to be disrespectful chief, but exactly why am I here today? I wouldn't think you would call me in on my duty day in full dress uniform to have friendly conversation." I was fidgeting a little thinking this was the calm before the storm, made obvious by the fact the county executive was still here.
"Well..." He began and leaned forward on his desk. "We do want to talk to you, but the full dress uniform thing...I got nothing to do with it."
I was still trying to not fidget around too much mentally noting that he said 'we' instead of 'I'. I must have really pissed somebody off. "But when I talked to Renee this morning, she said I had to be in full dress uniform."
"Oh?" His eyebrows went up. "What else did she tell you?"
"Well...nothing." I shrugged my shoulders at him. "She's real good at keeping secrets chief. I'm sure you know that."
"Yep." He replied. "Sure do."
"I got this one Bob." County Executive Lawson said.
The county executive turned in his chair toward me and began a short little story and ended it by telling me I am being promoted to battalion chief. The chief handed me a black box which had the gold crossed trumpets in it. After a minute of collecting my thoughts and trying to keep myself from breaking down in tears, we then discussed the promotions to be made as my position would now be vacant. Chief explained to me the shift was already informed this morning of my advancement, and I would probably have new friends looking for a promotion. As usual, nobody said anything beforehand, not even a hint of congratulations. We agreed the official ceremony would take place a month from Saturday, giving me enough time to pick my replacement and advancements down the ranks. After the meeting was over, we shook hands, and they both wished me luck. When I entered the outer office, Renee had three new working uniform shirts, three new t-shirts, and the keys to a Crown Victoria squad car on her desk. There was also a new set of turn-outs sitting on the chair I had just been sitting in when her and I were chatting, a new white helmet on top of them. She looked at me with her big smile, and with a wink, she said: "Congratulations Chief."
As I was carrying my new things out to my truck, I was greeted by many congratulations from headquarters staff, some stopping me to offer advice. Once I got outside, my phone began ringing text message alerts making me wonder if they had a news helicopter in the sky watching me, waiting for me to come out.
I called Corinne, and she was absolutely ecstatic with the news. When I got home and she seen the new work shirts and turn-outs, she did her classic Tigger happy jump. After changing, she drove me back to the fire department motorpool so I could pick up my squad car. I ended up talking with some of the guys there for a little while as they congratulated me on my promotion. I made my rounds to the firehouses, accepting congratulations, and talking with personnel who were going to be my choices to advance, although I didn't tell them yet. In between, I showed up at a few ambulance calls when I was close by to observe and help as I normally would, and stopped at a training session also to observe. By the time I was finished showing off, it was almost 6pm. I decided I better stop by my sister Bridgette before it got too late. If I waited any longer, she might not remember I was even there. I called her, she answered and I told her I would be over in a few minutes.
I pulled up to my sister's apartment building. Looking around, I noticed nobody in sight. Night crawlers we called them. They only come out at night. The majority of ambulance, fire and police calls to this neighborhood happened after 10pm. I took a deep breath before radioing dispatch letting them know where I was, and I would be doing a welfare check. It would now be officially logged with a time stamp we were there.
I knocked on my sister's apartment door and loudly announced "Fire Department." After 30 seconds, the door opened and a smiling Bridgette invited me in. I gotta hand it to her, she may live in a dump, but at least she keeps her apartment clean. Well, except for the beer bottles on the table from the night before, or this afternoon probably. Guess I'll find out in a minute when she starts talking.
"What brings you here?" She asked
"I can't stop and see my big sister?" I responded.
She looked me over suspiciously as she picked a cigarette out of the pack on the table. "You're in fire department wear. I get it. Ambulance hasn't been here in a while, so you're doing a welfare check." She lit the cigarette. "Right?"
Guess those bottles must be from last night. "Mom asked me to stop since you were a no-show at Kayla's birthday last night." I took a seat at her kitchen table, moving some of the bottles so I could rest my arm and put my portable radio on the table.
Alcohol, cigarettes, malnutrition and occasional drug use has taken their toll on my sister. Although she is six years older than me, she looks almost fifteen years older. She has light brown hair to the middle of her back; her big blue doe eyes had crow's feet at the corners. If she wasn't wearing makeup, you could see the crow's feet around the edges of her mouth. If she was though, she would wear lipstick which made her lips pop out at you, and with her big doe eyes, it made any man weak in the knees wondering how those lips would feel around his penis with her doe eyes looking at him. Her body was a little on the skinny side, but if she would eat healthy and regularly, it wouldn't look bad. Cigarettes have given her a raspy voice, but when she talks seductively, it is sexy in a Demi Moore kind of way. She was married, divorced two years later when she got pregnant—not from her husband.
Her husband literally kicked the shit out of her when he found out. She miscarried and her womb damaged so badly the doctors told her she would never have children, so they took everything out. I retaliated by beating the shit out of him. Although she eventually told me who she got pregnant by, at the time I believed she was pregnant from me. My sister and I screwed around a lot when Corinne and I would break up or separate. It started when I asked Bridgette to handjob me again when she took me out for a couple drinks after Corinne broke up with me to lift my spirits. Bridgette wore a short skirt, nylons and heels that day and after a few strong drinks I was so horny I began practically humping her legs like a dog pleading with her to masturbate me until I ejaculated on her nylon legs and feet. Instead, when we were alone later at my apartment, Bridgette wrapped her long nylon legs around my waist to lock me in place, and prodded me with her high heels still on her feet until I ejaculated deep inside her. The last time we had sex was many years ago, after she was divorced and healed. She wanted to make sure she could still have sex and feel a penis pump sperm inside her. Beating up her husband was the last time I ever hit anybody in anger.
"We don't treat women that way!" I recall yelling at him, each word accented by a punch to the face. I was an engineer at the time, Lieutenant Frazier stayed in the truck, while firefighter Sylvester Joseph, a new candidate and a big black man who stood almost six inches taller than me and 250lbs. of solid muscle, struggled to hold me back. Thus the saga of my troubled sister and her protective little brother started filtering through the rank and file of the fire department. Her husband tried to press charges, but had no witnesses. Years later, a now Battalion Chief Frazier will claim he doesn't know anything about it, he doesn't recall ever being there. A now Lieutenant Joseph --my soon to be aide— and I will privately joke about busting heads, but next time it's his turn.
"Yeah. Well I'm sorry I didn't show up. I don't have any gas in my car, and probably would not have made it back here." She said while blowing smoke out. "I need a job."
"You could've called. I would've came and picked you up or given you money for gas. You know that Bridge."
"Would you like something to drink?" She asked getting up to go to the refrigerator.
