added, “Don’t worry. It’s not bad. The house is smoked up, but there’s no structural damage.”
A few minutes later he walked me through the house and explained where they’d found Nanna. He told me they would secure the front door and told me how to get the smoke out of the draperies and clothes. Never once did he mention anything about Nanna being famous, although the woman firefighter told me he knew.
I found myself drawn to him. He wasn’t particularly handsome, but he had an open, boyish face that didn’t hide what he was thinking. I like that in a man. I’ve always been attracted to shy men too. Perhaps because I used to be so shy.
After we’d gone down to the basement to check out the damage, I said, “Look, Lieutenant. My grandmother is going to want to do something for all of you who helped her tonight. That’s how she is.”
“We were just doing our job.”
“It might be a job to you; it was my grandmother’s life. They told me nobody even knew there was a fire in the house until you discovered it.”
Wollf looked at the female firefighter as if she were going to help him out—something he’d been doing all along—but she didn’t let out a peep. I think she enjoyed watching him bumble along. It was like watching King Kong trying to play checkers.
“Just doing our job, lady.”
“Vanessa. Call me Vanessa. I can tell you right now my grandmother isn’t going to give up until you let us do something. I was thinking about a catered dinner at the firehouse? We’ll supply everything.”
“You know,” Wollf said, “this is my first day at the station. What you should do is, you should go around back and find Lieutenant Slaughter.”
“But aren’t you the one who—”
“Slaughter’s the guy you want.”
Five minutes later I was behind the house talking to Lieutenant Slaughter when Jackie came out and began flirting with one and all. To my surprise, she homed in on Lieutenant Wollf, and to my even greater surprise, he flirted with her too. In fact, they were like a couple of drunks at a frat party. It was amazing. With me he’d barely been able to get a word out, yet here he was putting on a show with Jackie. I guess I misjudged him. Apparently what I mistook for shyness was actually a distaste for me.
11. CANNONBALLS IN A PILLOWCASE
Lt. Stephen Slaughter AU6/C-3
All day I been watching Wollf and that new recruit of his, and here’s what it boils down to. No. This is really what it boils down to. Forget the ifs, ands, or buts. He’s going to fuck her. I’m sure of it.
We can say whatever we want about her abilities as a firefighter—and I seen some stuff tonight makes me want to puke—but the truth is, there isn’t a man jack of us wouldn’t sit her on our lap if she asked.
She just might be the single hottest female in the department. She’s got those perky little . . . If she wasn’t an Indian and twenty-five years younger than me, she’d be perfect. But here’s the deal—and I’m pretty sure about this part: If he
doesn’t
end up fucking her, he’s going to fire her.
Oh, yeah. He’s going to give her the heave-ho so fast she won’t know whether to shit or go blind.
Of course, after he gives her the axe, those namby-pambies in the administration will offer her the option of resigning, which they always do, which means she won’t take any of our negative assessments with her when she signs up at the next fire department. What a racket these bitches got going. We fired the chief of Tacoma when she was a recruit here. They fired our Battalion 4. Bellingham fired our training officer. We fired their newest lieutenant. They’re like dogshit on your boots. You can’t get rid of ’em.
Good men line up by the thousands for a crack at the job. They fly in from Minnesota and New York just for the privilege of taking our test. Women go through a special door. No waiting. No fuss. Thank you, ma’am. I know you’re a little weak and a little
A few minutes later he walked me through the house and explained where they’d found Nanna. He told me they would secure the front door and told me how to get the smoke out of the draperies and clothes. Never once did he mention anything about Nanna being famous, although the woman firefighter told me he knew.
I found myself drawn to him. He wasn’t particularly handsome, but he had an open, boyish face that didn’t hide what he was thinking. I like that in a man. I’ve always been attracted to shy men too. Perhaps because I used to be so shy.
After we’d gone down to the basement to check out the damage, I said, “Look, Lieutenant. My grandmother is going to want to do something for all of you who helped her tonight. That’s how she is.”
“We were just doing our job.”
“It might be a job to you; it was my grandmother’s life. They told me nobody even knew there was a fire in the house until you discovered it.”
Wollf looked at the female firefighter as if she were going to help him out—something he’d been doing all along—but she didn’t let out a peep. I think she enjoyed watching him bumble along. It was like watching King Kong trying to play checkers.
“Just doing our job, lady.”
“Vanessa. Call me Vanessa. I can tell you right now my grandmother isn’t going to give up until you let us do something. I was thinking about a catered dinner at the firehouse? We’ll supply everything.”
“You know,” Wollf said, “this is my first day at the station. What you should do is, you should go around back and find Lieutenant Slaughter.”
“But aren’t you the one who—”
“Slaughter’s the guy you want.”
Five minutes later I was behind the house talking to Lieutenant Slaughter when Jackie came out and began flirting with one and all. To my surprise, she homed in on Lieutenant Wollf, and to my even greater surprise, he flirted with her too. In fact, they were like a couple of drunks at a frat party. It was amazing. With me he’d barely been able to get a word out, yet here he was putting on a show with Jackie. I guess I misjudged him. Apparently what I mistook for shyness was actually a distaste for me.
11. CANNONBALLS IN A PILLOWCASE
Lt. Stephen Slaughter AU6/C-3
All day I been watching Wollf and that new recruit of his, and here’s what it boils down to. No. This is really what it boils down to. Forget the ifs, ands, or buts. He’s going to fuck her. I’m sure of it.
We can say whatever we want about her abilities as a firefighter—and I seen some stuff tonight makes me want to puke—but the truth is, there isn’t a man jack of us wouldn’t sit her on our lap if she asked.
She just might be the single hottest female in the department. She’s got those perky little . . . If she wasn’t an Indian and twenty-five years younger than me, she’d be perfect. But here’s the deal—and I’m pretty sure about this part: If he
doesn’t
end up fucking her, he’s going to fire her.
Oh, yeah. He’s going to give her the heave-ho so fast she won’t know whether to shit or go blind.
Of course, after he gives her the axe, those namby-pambies in the administration will offer her the option of resigning, which they always do, which means she won’t take any of our negative assessments with her when she signs up at the next fire department. What a racket these bitches got going. We fired the chief of Tacoma when she was a recruit here. They fired our Battalion 4. Bellingham fired our training officer. We fired their newest lieutenant. They’re like dogshit on your boots. You can’t get rid of ’em.
Good men line up by the thousands for a crack at the job. They fly in from Minnesota and New York just for the privilege of taking our test. Women go through a special door. No waiting. No fuss. Thank you, ma’am. I know you’re a little weak and a little
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