This is the first story I have written in a narrative style as opposed to in the first person. It is fictional with some small incidents biographical. I did not write it for a category so I had a difficult time picking one. It does have a lot of first, some sexual, so I am putting it in that category. It is self-edited and proofed with the help of software, and being a person who only had one English class it may not meet some reader's standards. So if you are a nit-picker and admit it, you might want to move on to one written more eloquently. Love to hear comments on the storyline, as that is what amateur writing is all about. All fictional characters are over 18.
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Ronald was a fireman, something he had wanted to be ever since he was a child of 5 on his grandpa's shoulders watching a parade. He told his grandpa when he saw a big red fire truck with its lights flashing approaching them, "Grandpa, someday I will be riding, no, I will be driving a big red truck like that. I will be going to fires to rescue people from flames and smoke."
His grandpa told him that it was a noble profession, but told him how important it was to get good grades when he goes to school.
Most kids that pick a profession as children tend to pick the safety services, police, or fire, few pursue one. Few even remember what they decided back then by the time they reach grade school. That was not the case with Ronald, he had read every book in his school's library about firemen and famous fires and rescues. Whenever he was asked, he maintained that it was his chosen profession. In the 7th grade, he wrote a 500-word essay on what he was going to be when he grew up, a fireman. He used every bit of information he had gathered from his reading every book available in not just the small school library, but the public one as well.
In High School, he was shy, especially with girls, he did little dating. He was pretty thin and a little ashamed of his ribs showing instead of abs. In his sophomore year he started swimming and was pretty good, the coach helped him adjust his diet. He turned into quite a hunk, but displayed it in few places other than practice and swim meets. He also became more aware of his manhood and what being around girls did to it, he was 16 then and had discovered that masturbating helped keep surprise erections in school to a minimum. Truth was, he was one hung male, and could not help but show it in his team Speedo. Some girls on the school's team showed some interest, not just because of his looks, body, and the bulge in his suit, but a lot of girls like a quiet type of guy like him. Like most shy guys, he did not always recognize their interest, and even when he did, he didn't return any of their flirting. His shyness and focus on his goal of becoming a fireman prevented that.
He never stopped making the claim of becoming a firefighter and took some kidding for it. Even friends and family that loved him would tell him, "It is not an easy job to get, you have to take some tests as well." They usually followed that kind of statement with, "Its good to have a backup plan." They were right, he already knew that in some departments you have to take a civil service exam in addition to the safety service test. You also had to be at least 18 to be accepted for even training, and in some departments would be put on reserves until you were 21. It did not deter him, once he was 18 he filled out all the applications, signed up for the test. He was pumped, past all the safety services firefighters' tests, but he failed the civil service test, he was never good at testing, it was only his wealth of knowledge from reading that helped him nearly ace some of the fire service tests.
He was crushed, but not broken. He found out that if he changed his address to his grandfathers he could join the local volunteer fire department at 18. Then after some training, he could legally start responding to fires at 18, he was already old enough.
His grandfather was not totally surprised when he told him what he was going to do. Then he told him, "Ron my boy, you told me that is what you were going to do when you were just 5, I am proud of you for making such a steadfast effort to fulfill a childhood dream."
Grandpa signed the paperwork and he put some things in the guest bedroom so he could stay there when he was on call.
The guys at the station did little as an initiation, they mostly just gave the new guys the dirty jobs. He did everything from cleaning the toilets and showers to scrubbing floors. He received little on-the-job training, most of what he knew was from his reading and studying.
Ron was at the station when its biggest call ever had come in, they just did not know it at the time. It was not a big turnout as it was on a weekday during the summer. Summer is a tough time for volunteer departments, with vacations adding to conflicts with full-time jobs. They needed him on this call, and he had just got out of the shower. He did not want to let them down and showed up in the ready room in only a towel. They told him to get his gear on and he did. He dropped the towel and jumped into the trousers, and put the coat on as well. He liked wearing the hat, it fit, but the pants they gave him were too big and pretty scratchy on his naked body, it had plenty of room for his large endowment, but it felt like it was in a thorn bush. The fire-resistant coat they had given him, was way too large for his still somewhat thin frame.
He always enjoyed riding to routine calls with the lights and sirens on, but this was the real thing, and he was not just uncomfortable, but nervous as well. The call was a fire in a strip shopping center, and all they knew so far was that it was going to involve some evacuation of employees and customers.
