The Name Game
Nicole and Michelle Stanley tossed their backpacks on the couch and went into the kitchen for an after school snack.
“How was school?” asked Hank
as he grated Romano cheese for the spaghetti.
“Okay,” sighed Nicole,
taking a drink of juice.
“Anything wrong?”
“No, everything’s okay,”
replied Michelle through bites of her cookie.
“Well, then, what’s wrong?
You two look like you’ve been assigned a twenty page report due tomorrow.”
“It might as well be a
twenty page report,” said Nicole. “We have a project due before Spring Break.”
“What’s the project?”
“It’s for English. We have
to do a project on names and their meanings. It can be geographic names, animal
names, or human names. We chose human names,” answered Michelle.
“We’re going to research
names of people we know and find out if the meanings fit the personality,” said
Nicole.
“Whose names are you going
to use?”
“Yours, Mom’s, Grans’,
Granpa’s, the guys’ at the station, and anyone else we can think of,” responded
Michelle.
“We’re going to put everyone’s
names on a poster board with the meaning of the name and a description of the
personality. Sort of a comparison/contrast thing,” said Nicole.
“We want to start tomorrow.
So, after dinner, we need to go to Barnes and Noble for a book,” said Michelle.
“What kind of book?”
“A baby name book so we can
look up definitions of names,” replied Nicole.
“I never thought I’d be
buying a name book for two twelve-year-olds.”
“Dad, we’re almost
thirteen,” countered Michelle.
“Yes, but ‘almost’ only
counts in horseshoes and hand grenades.”
“Oh, and Dad-we need to go
to the station with you next shift. So we can research the guys’ names and
observe their personalities,” explained Nicole.
“I’ll clear it with the
Chief. Now, set the table.”
“Granpa won’t mind,” said
Michelle.
“Not Granpa, the other
Chief. Chief Sorensen.”
**************************************
After dinner, Hank took the
girls to Barnes and Noble to get them a book, and ended up getting one for each
of them, earning puzzled looks from customers and employees in the process. Out
of the corner of his eye, he caught a woman whispering something to her
husband, who glanced over at Hank and the girls. The husband whispered
something back. The wife, in a not-so-quiet voice, said, “Disgusting!”
At home, Hank’s parents came
over for dessert, and the girls got to work looking up their grandparents’
names.
“Granpa, we’re doing a
project for school on names, and we need your full name,” explained Nicole.
“Martin Charles Stanley.”
“Grans?” asked Michelle.
“Mary Ruth Stanley. God, I
wish my parents had been original in naming me! But no! I had to be named after my mother. That’s why everyone calls me
‘Ruth,’ to avoid confusion with her.”
“I think you have a pretty
name,” commented Emily.
“Ick,” was all Ruth could
muster.
“Let’s see. ‘Martin’ is
Latin and it means ‘warlike.’ ‘Charles’ is Germanic and it means ‘manly;
strong; free’,” reported Nicole.
“I’m ‘warlike; manly; strong; free.’ I like that,” winked Martin as he struck a pose.
“Unfortunately, your first
name doesn’t fit you. You’re not ‘warlike,’” explained Nicole, smiling at her
Grandfather’s attempt at a Mr. Universe pose.
“So, I should change my
name?” he smiled impishly.
“If you want,” shrugged
Nicole.
“You’ll do no such thing,”
scolded Ruth. “Besides, I like
‘Martin,’ and we’d have to change Hank’s middle name.”
“If you change anything
about my name, change my first name. Who calls me ‘Henry’?” griped Hank.
“We named you ‘Henry’ after
your great-grandfather. He died exactly one month before you were born,”
explained Martin.
“Good thing I have
daughters,” Hank muttered. “I don’t think I’d want one of my sons cursed with
the same first name. He shuddered.
“Did you say something,
Sweetheart?” asked Emily suspiciously.
“Nope. Didn’t say a word,”
replied Hank with an innocent smile.
“Okay. I have Grans’ names,”
announced Michelle. “’Mary’ is Hebrew and it means ‘the perfect one; bitter;
with sorrow.’ ‘Ruth’ is also Hebrew, and it means ‘beautiful friend’.”
“I think you’re right. I’m
not ‘bitter’ or ‘with sorrow’,” agreed Ruth.
“Yeah, and you’re not
perfect,” added Michelle with a mischievous grin.
“Who says she’s not
perfect?” teased Martin.
“Nobody’s perfect,”
countered Michelle.
“She’s perfect enough for
me.”
“And me,” chimed in Hank.
Michelle ignored her father
and nudged her sister.
“Okay. Now, onto Mom and
Dad,” grinned Nicole at her sister. “I’ll take Mom, you take Dad.”
“Here it is,” Nicole pointed
to the name in the book. “‘Emily’ is Latin/Teutonic and means ‘ambitious;
flatterer; industrious.’ ‘Elizabeth’ is Hebrew and means ‘God’s oath; dedicated’.”
“I’ll drink to that,” agreed
Emily, taking a sip of Coke.
“Yeah, well, look at what
your initials spell,” smiled Hank, thankful he was across the room at that
moment.
Em glared at her husband
over the top of her Coke can.
“Now, I have royal initials,” said Hank, with his back to his wife,
refilling his parents’ ice cream bowls.
“Em, What do your initials
spell?” asked a clueless Ruth.
Emily sighed. I’ll sue my parents for giving me this name!
And my dear husband isn’t long for this world! “’EEKS’.”
Martin was about to take a sip
of Sprite when his daughter-in-law answered. “I beg your pardon?”
“Yep. The whole thing is Emily Elizabeth Kendall Stanley, which equals ‘EEKS’. Fortunately, I don’t use my maiden name, so that spares me the embarrassment.” Emily turned to her husband, who was trying not to laugh, “Don’t you dare say a word.”
“Here’s Dad’s name,” smiled
Michelle.
“Why do I not like the smile
on her face?” asked Hank, eyeing his daughter suspiciously, as he carried the
bowls back to the table.
“’Henry’ is Germanic. It
means ‘one who rules the home or estate’,” Michelle continued with a smirk.
Everyone snickered as Hank
rolled his eyes.
“’Martin’ is Latin and means
‘warlike.’ Um, Dad, none of these apply to you,”
giggled Michelle.
“Yeah. Mom wears the
turnouts around here,” laughed Nicole.
“Oh, she does, does she?”
asked Hank, eyeing his spouse.
Emily shrugged her shoulders
and smiled.
“What were you two thinking
when you named me?” asked Hank.
“What the hell are we going
to name this kid?” joked Martin.
“We only picked girls’
names,” explained Ruth. “The doctor said, ‘it’s a boy!’, and I said, ‘you’re
lying!’”
“What girl names did you
have picked?” asked Emily.
“Our favorite was
‘Margaret-Anne,’” answered Martin.
“Margaret-Anne Stanley. That
has a nice ring to it,” said Emily, trying the name out for size.
Hank shook his head. “Margaret-Anne?! I was almost Margaret-Anne?! Well, I guess it could have been worse. I could have been Martin Charles Stanley, Jr.”
Martin almost choked on his
ice cream at his son’s comment. “Excuse
me? We had a darned of a time coming up with a name for you. Your mother
wanted to name you after me, but I put my foot down, chose ‘Henry,’ instead.
Besides, there’s nothing wrong with my name.”
“Oh really?” replied Hank.
“What would you have called me? You were, and still are, using ‘Martin,’ and
‘Charles’ was taken by Grandpa. That only left ‘Junior’.”
Martin opened his mouth to
say something, but nothing came out. He was beat. I hate to admit it, but he’s right. Ruth would never have gone for some
variation of ‘Martin’ or ‘Charles.’ She doesn’t even like to call him ‘Hank.’
“Now, you want a feat in naming? Try coming up with names for twins, especially since you don’t know if they’re identical or fraternal,” said Hank. “I won the coin toss. I got to name both of them.”
Emily stuck her tongue out at her husband. Hank returned the gesture.
**********************************
The next morning Hank called Chief Sorensen about permitting his girls do their research at the station.
“What kind of research?” asked Sorensen.
“A project on names and determining whether or not a person’s name matches their personality,” replied Hank. “They need to observe the guys to get a feel for their personalities.”
“How old are your daughters?”
“Twelve,” hesitated Hank, not sure why the Chief asked
that. Why does he need to know that?
“I guess they’ll be okay at the station if you should get a run.”
Aha! Now, I
understand. “That was gonna be my next question. Thanks, Chief.”
“No problem. I wish them well on their project.”
“Thanks, Chief. Talk to you later.”
Hank came into the kitchen where his wife and daughters were finishing breakfast.
“Well, do we get to go to station?” asked Nicole through a spoonful of Rice Krispies.
“The Chief gave his blessing with one stipulation,” replied Hank as he poured a glass of orange juice and sat down at the table.
“What’s that?” asked Michelle, wiping dribbled milk from her chin.
“That you two stay at the station if we get a run.”
Hank took a drink of juice and reached for the box of cereal, anticipating his daughters’ protests.
“Awww!” protested Nicole with a mouth full of cereal.
“Why?” demanded Michelle as she was about to put her spoon in her mouth.
“There’s not enough room in the squad or on the engine,” explained Hank, pouring Rice Krispies into his bowl and only getting crumbs.
“Why can’t Chet and Marco ride on the back and we ride on the jump seats?” asked Nicole,
“Because the Chief said so,” Hank responded firmly, glancing furtively at the small pile of crumbs in his bowl.
“Rats! We were hoping to get some names from Rampart,” moaned Michelle.
“Tell you what, if John and Roy get a run, I’ll have them get some names for you, okay?”
“Okay,” replied the dejected duo.
“Oh, Dad, there’s no more cereal,” said Nicole, finishing off the last of her cereal as her father rummaged through the cabinet.
************************************
Once they got to the station, the girls went straight for Henry, scratching his ears and giving him a backrub, while he lay there and ate it all up.
Out in the apparatus bay, Hank assigned everyone the chores for the day.
“Lopez, tackle the kitchen; Kelly, take care of the latrine; Stoker, you have the dorm; Gage and DeSoto, give the squad a bath. C Shift took the ol’ girl through some mud and muck, and didn’t have time to wash her down. Before you guys get to work, Nicole and Michelle are in the day room. They’re working on a project for school and need your help.”
“Sure!” said Chet.
“No problem,” replied Marco
“Be glad to help,” answered Roy.
“What can we do?” asked John.
“What kind of project?” asked Mike.
“A project on names for English,” explained Hank. “They need your given names. Then, they’ll see if your name matches your personality. Oh, and Roy? John? They want to use some names from Rampart.”
“Say no more, Cap,” said John.
“Uh, what’s going to happen to them if we get a run?” asked Chet, who didn’t like the idea of two little girls being left alone in an empty fire station.
“Chief Sorensen said it was okay if they stayed here.”
“By themselves?” asked Marco, incredulously.
“Are you guys getting over-protective of my daughters?” asked Hank suspiciously, looking up from the clipboard, and eyeing each member of his crew in turn.
“What if someone broke in while we were gone?” asked Marco.
“What’s to steal except the building and Henry? The former is worth more than the latter.”
“CAP!” protested Chet.
“Sorry,” replied Hank, clearing his throat. “Okay. Everybody get to work.”
******************************************
While the guys got started on their housekeeping, the girls worked on other homework they brought to keep themselves busy. Marco came into the kitchen, and found the duo engrossed in their math assignment. Getting ready to clean the oven, Marco opened the door to remove the racks and place them in the sink. Marco tried to take both at the same time. He lost his grip and the racks clattered to the floor, startling Nicole and Michelle.
“Sorry,” he smiled apologetically.
“That’s okay. A heart attack wouldn’t have gotten us out of doing math,” joked Nicole.
“Your Dad told us you’re doing a project on names for school,” said Marco, picking the racks up off the floor.
“Yeah. At first we were dreading it, but it’s actually
fun,” said Michelle full of enthusiasm. I
can’t believe I’m actually looking forward to a project.
“How many names do you have so far?” asked Marco, depositing the racks into the sink.
“Four. Mom, Dad, Granpa, and Grans,” replied Nicole.
Marco looked over at the doorway, then leaned in close to the girls. “Before the other guys get in here, let me get this out of the way. My full name is Marco Cesar Lopez.”
“Hmm. ‘Marco is Latin/Spanish for ‘warlike,’” reported Michelle, flipping through her book.
“’Cesar’ is Latin for ‘born; cut; hair’,” said Nicole.
“That doesn’t make any sense,” said Marco.
“Well, your first name doesn’t fit, but your middle name does,” explained Michelle.
“Gonna have to run this by Mama tomorrow,” said Marco, scratching his head. How does my middle name fit?”
“Simple,” smiled Michelle. “You have a mustache.”
“Hey, let’s go find Chet. I want to know what the ‘B’ stands for,” said Nicole, shoving her math notebook and textbook into her backpack.
“Me, too!”
“If you find out, inquiring minds want to know,” smiled Marco.
“Okay. You’re first on the list...right after Johnny,” said Nicole.
Mike was almost mowed down by the two as they ran out the door as he was coming in.
“Sorry, Mike!” yelled Michelle from the other side of the bay.
“That’s okay! Chet’s in the latrine! I want to know what the ‘B’ stands for, too!” responded Mike, hearing the last part of the conversation.
“Okay!” shouted Nicole.
The twins knocked on the door to the locker room. Not getting any answer, they carefully opened it.
“Chet?” called Michelle, peeking her head inside. “We won’t look, we promise.”
“It’s okay. Come on in. I could use the company.”
The girls found Chet, gloved to the elbows with scrub brush in hand.
“How come you always get stuck doing this?” asked Nicole.
“The Phantom has lousy timing and a joke backfired on your Dad. Boy, does he wake up grumpy,” said Chet, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve.
“Mom calls him ‘the meanest bear in the woods’,” commented Michelle.
“I found that out the hard way,” sighed Chet.
“You know what your mistake was?” asked Nicole.
“What?”
“You caught him before he had his orange juice,” replied Michelle.
“Hmmm. I’m gonna have to remember that next time. How’s your project coming along?” asked Chet, scouring the shower stall.
“Great! We got another name added to the list, and we hope to get four more before we leave, hint, hint,” answered Nicole.
“Really? Who did you get?”
“Marco,” replied Michelle.
“What’s his middle name?”
“Can’t tell you,” responded Nicole.
“It’s privileged information,” agreed Michelle.
“Did he tell you that?”
“Nope. We’re telling you that,” replied Nicole.
“All the names on the list are confidential until the project is complete,” explained Michelle.
“Okay. Then, what are yours?”
“You tell us yours and we’ll tell you ours,” said Nicole with a naughty glint in her eye.
Chet looked at the twins and sighed, “It’s Chester Beauregard Kelly. Go ahead and laugh. Everyone else does.”
“We’re not gonna laugh,” vowed Michelle.
“Now, it’s your turn,” said Chet, closing the shower stall.
“You’re not gonna believe this, but our middle names are ‘Harriet’ and ‘Agnes,’” answered Nicole.
“Who got stuck with what?” he asked, applying the famous scrubbing bubbles to the sinks.
“Nicole Harriet Stanley,” replied Michelle.
“Michelle Agnes Stanley,” chimed in Nicole.
“Are you two kidding?”
The twins shook their heads, trying to look serious.
“We’re gonna find the others. See ya later,” said Michelle as she and her sister headed for the door.
“See ya,” acknowledged Chet, waving his soapy rag.
Out in the apparatus bay, Michelle stopped Nicole, “’Harriet’ and ‘Agnes’?”
“Hey, he bought it, didn’t he?”
They found the back bay doors open, and peeking around the corner, spotted John and Roy washing the squad.
“Well, if it isn’t ‘Double Trouble’,” joked John.
“Still can’t tell us apart?” asked Michelle.
“Let’s see. You’re Nicole and you’re Michelle,” guessed Roy, pointing from left to right.
“Nope,” said Nicole, smiling.
“Well, then, it has to be the other way around,” surmised John, pointing right to left.
“Wrong again,” smiled Michelle.
“Which is it?” asked Roy.
“We’ll never tell,” replied the two at the same time.
At the answer, John attempted to spray the girls, but they ducked out of the way, and Hank caught it, instead.
“Sorry, Cap,” John half-smiled.
The twins couldn’t control their laughter, and Roy tried to hide his smirk.
“John, you just volunteered to give a Girl Scout troop a tour of the station next shift,” said Hank as water dripped from his face. “By the way, don’t forget to stop by Rampart for supplies.”
Nicole and Michelle got the same idea at the same time. “Dad?” asked Michelle, tugging on Hank’s sleeve.
“What?” he replied, looking down at two smiling faces. Uh-oh. What are they up to? Last time they
smiled like that, I ended up on the receiving end of teeth and claws. I hate
that cat!
“Conference,” answered Nicole, motioning towards the bay.
“My office,” replied Hank, gesturing towards the building.
A moment later, Michelle sat in her Dad’s chair, and Nicole in the one to the left of the desk.
“Okay. What are you two plotting and planning?” asked Hank, arms crossed over his chest.
“Can we go to Rampart with Roy and Johnny?” asked Nicole.
“I don’t see why not, but why don’t you ask them?”
“Okay!” they both responded and ran out back.
“Roy, can we go to Rampart with you and Johnny?” asked Michelle breathlessly.
“I don’t know. Ask your Dad.”
“We did. He told us to ask you guys,” explained Nicole.
“Then, I guess it’s okay, but you gotta help us finish the squad. Deal?” Roy stuck out his hand.
“Deal!” The girls both pumped it, then grabbed some sponges and went to work.
***********************************
When the last coat of wax had been rubbed in, Roy, Johnny, and the girls headed to Rampart.
“How’s the project coming along?” asked Roy as he drove and the girls were sandwiched between him and John.
“Great! Now that we added Marco and Chet,” replied Michelle.
Roy knew what was coming and headed them off, “Roy Edward DeSoto.”
“Thanks,” said Nicole.
“No problem,” Roy nodded toward the twin next to him.
“So, that’s what the ‘E’ stands for,” smiled John.
“Hmm. ‘Roy’ is French/Celtic and means ‘king; red-haired.’ Well, that part’s true,” commented Michelle, flipping through her book.
“’Edward’ is Old English and means ‘prosperous protector’. Well, firefighters aren’t exactly prosperous, but you are a protector. We’ll give you half-credit,” said Nicole.
“By the way, what does the ‘B’ stand for?” asked Roy.
“Balthasar,” replied Michelle straight-faced.
“Balthasar?” asked John and Roy in unison.
“Chester Balthasar Kelly. I don’t even want to know where his parents got that name,” commented Roy, making the turn through the Rampart gates.
“Don’t tell him we told you. He seemed a little embarrassed,” said Nicole.
“Okay. we won’t,” grinned John.
“Our lips are sealed,” agreed Roy. They never said anything about not telling the guys. Actually...let
them figure it out for themselves. I’d be embarrassed, too if I had a name like
that. I thought mine was bad enough.
When they arrived at Rampart, John headed towards Coronary Care to check out the new nurse, while Roy and the twins went in search of Dixie, and found her filing some charts.
“Hi, Roy. Well, hi Nicole and Michelle.” Dixie smiled down at the girls.
“Hi!” the twins replied in unison.
“Your new partners for the day?” teased Dixie.
“No, Junior’s hitting on a nurse in Coronary Care. I need to pick up some supplies, and they’re here to do research for a school project.”
As Roy handed her the list of supplies. Dixie turned to the twins. “What’s the project?”
“Names and whether or not they match someone’s personality,” answered Michelle.
“How does it work?” asked Dixie.
“You give us your first and middle name, we look them up to see what they mean, and take it from there,” explained Nicole.
“Dixie Rose McCall.”
“That’s a pretty name,” said Michelle.
“Thank you,” replied Dix, smiling and reaching under the counter for an empty box. Finding the right size box, she set it on the counter and went to the cabinet for IV solution. “I was named ‘Dixie’ because I was born in Alabama when Dad was stationed at Fort Rucker, and ‘Rose’ was my Grandma’s name. So, what does my name mean?”
“’Dixie’ is Anglo-Saxon/French and means ‘dike or wall; tenth. That didn’t make any sense,” said Nicole, closing her book and scratching her head.
“’Rose’ is Greek/Latin and means ‘of Mary; a rose; love,” said Michelle.
“Hmm. Sounds like my parents gave me the wrong name. Has anybody had a perfect match?” she asked as she set the IVs down, and went to get the syringes.
“Roy is as close as we’ve gotten. Everybody else has been a half-match or not at all, like Dad,” answered Nicole.
“Well, I hope you two get a good grade on the project,” said Dixie, going over the list one more time, making sure she had gotten everything.
“We will. Where’s Dr. Brackett?” asked Michelle, looking around.
“He’s in the cafeteria with Dr. Morton,” Dixie pointed down the hallway, and returning to the chart she had been working on.
***********************************
A short while later, the girls found the two doctors in a discussion about two of that morning’s cases, which ended tragically.
“Kel, what’s it going to take for parents to realize they can’t leave poisons laying around for kids to get into?” asked Dr. Morton.
Dr. Brackett sat back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest, “I don’t know. More deaths maybe.”
“Exactly. How many more kids have to die or suffer the lingering effects?” asked Morton, pointing his fork at the doctor seated across the table.
“Far be it for us to tell the public how to raise their kids. Their attitude is ‘not my child’.” replied Brackett.
“But when something happens, they always say, ‘I didn’t know’ or ‘I didn’t think it was dangerous’.” said Morton.
“Should we interrupt them? It sounds interesting,” Nicole whispered to Michelle, who just shrugged her shoulders, but Dr. Morton spotted them out of the corner of his eye. “Can we help you two?”
“Dr. Morton, we’re Captain Stanley’s daughters, and we’re working on a project for school on names,” Michelle began.
“and we need your full names,” explained Nicole.
“Just what kind of project are we talking about?” asked Brackett, leaning forward to hear more.
“Well, it’s a project for English on people’s names and whether or not it matches their personality,” explained Michelle.
“Sounds interesting,” commented Morton. “What do you think, Kel?”
“Why not?” shrugged Dr. Brackett.
“Dr. Morton, you first,” said Nicole, pointing at Mike with her pen.
“Michael Patrick Morton.”
“Dr. Brackett?” asked Michelle.
“Kelly Aaron Brackett.”
“Darn. We seem to have left our books at the base station. We’ll have the results of your analysis first thing in the morning,” said Nicole as she and her sister rummaged through their respective backpacks.
“No rush. Just do a good job on the project,” smiled Morton.
“We will,” said Michelle, looking around. “Where’s Dr. Early?”
“Last time I saw him, he was in Treatment one, but check with Dixie first,” replied Brackett.
“Before you two go, what does the ‘B’ stand for?” asked Morton. “Chet was here about a month ago for a shoulder injury. The admissions form asked for his middle name, but he only gave us the initial. He adamantly refused to tell us. I was wondering if, by chance, you two had already cornered him.”
“Barnabas,” lied Nicole.
“Barnabas?” repeated an astonished Dr. Brackett. “An Irishman with a Greek middle name?”
“You two are making that up,” accused Morton.
“No, we’re not,” countered Michelle.
“Yeah,” agreed Nicole. “My first name is part Greek, even though my family comes from England.”
With that, the two turned and went in search of Dr. Early, who was at the base station talking to Dixie and Vince.
“The nerve of some people,” complained Michelle.
“What’s wrong?” asked Dixie.
“We just had our honesty questioned by Dr. Morton. Arrest him!” said Nicole.
“I can’t arrest someone without a warrant,” explained Vince, amused by the girls’ accusation.
“Rats!” protested Michelle.
“What did you two say or do?” asked Joe, eyeing the twins suspiciously.
“Dr. Morton asked us what Chet’s middle name was, we told him, and he accused us of making it up,” recanted Nicole.
“What is Chet’s middle name?” asked Dixie.
“Barrett,” Michelle dead-panned.
“Dr. Early, Vince, could we use your full names for our English project?” asked Nicole, changing the subject.
“I know all about the project, I donated my name to it already. I’ll explain it to you guys later,” said Dixie, before Vince and Joe could open their mouths.
“Robert Vincent Howard.”
“Joseph Thomas Early.”
“Thanks, guys,” said Michelle as she wrote down the names.
“No problem, ladies. Good luck on the project,” grinned Vince.
“Same here,” said Joe. “I want to know what grade you get.”
“Where are the guys?” asked Nicole, looking up and down the hall of the ER.
“In the lounge with your book, waiting for you two,” replied Dixie, motioning towards an adjacent hallway.
*********************************
After they found Roy and John they went back to the station. The engine was out on a run.
“Rats! All we needed was one more name,” griped Nicole.
“Who’s name are you missing?” asked John.
“Mike’s,” replied Michelle, glancing at her list.
“I’ll set the table for lunch,” volunteered Roy.
******************************************
Once Roy disappeared into the kitchen, John took the girls into their father’s office. “Is Chet’s middle name really ‘Balthasar’?”
Nicole thought for a minute. “You know that I think of it, I don’t think ‘Balthasar’ was the name he mentioned.”
“You’re right,” agreed Michelle. “I think it was ‘Barclay’.”
“That’s it. That’s his middle name,” said Nicole, looking at her list.
“Barclay? Chester Barclay Kelly?” laughed John. Sounds a whole lot better than Balthasar,
but not much. Hehehe. Now, I have some leverage against the Phantom.
“Hey, we need two more names,” said Michelle, looking over the list.
“Who else are we missing?” asked Nicole.
Michelle motioned with her head toward John.
“Johnny, since you’re in such a good mood, how about giving us your full name?” asked Nicole. “Our records show we’re missing your name, too.”
“You’ll love this. It’s John Roderick Gage.”
The girls went silent, which made John squirm. “What?” he asked, their silence driving him up the wall.
The duo broke into laughter and left a stunned paramedic wondering what was so funny.
“What’s so funny?” John quickly checked his fly, then shook his head as they went out the door.
**********************************
After lunch the twins shocked everyone, especially Hank, when they pulled out cards and poker chips.
“All right, let’s see who gets dishpan hands!” announced Michelle.
Marco was the first to break the silence. “Who taught you how to play poker?”
Hank felt the eyes of his crew on him. “Don’t look at me!”
“Granpa taught us,” replied Nicole.
“The Chief?” asked Mike.
The girls nodded.
“When did this happen?” asked Hank, stunned.
“About a year ago when we spent the weekend with Grans and Granpa,” answered Michelle.
“Are you any good?” asked Chet, earning a slap in the arm from Hank. “What? I’m checking out the competition!”
“Are we any good?!” parroted Nicole, and nudging her sister in the side. “Tell them.”
“Let me put it to you this way; ever see a bunch of battalion chiefs cry? It’s not pretty,” explained Michelle.
Hank put his head in his hands.
“Took them to the cleaners,” Nicole expanded.
Hank put his head on the table.
“Yes!” shouted the duo and slapped each other a high-five.
“There, there, now, Cap,” reassured John, patting him on the back.
“Does your Grandmother know?” asked Roy.
“Sure. She taught us five-card and seven-card stud,” responded Michelle.
“Oh, Dear God,” said Hank, the image of his mother now tarnished.
“Now, for the all-important question, does your Mom know?” asked Chet.
Hank lifted his head and sat back for the answer.
“Yep!”
“What?” asked Hank, eyes wide open in disbelief.
“She said you would over-react,” said Nicole. “She wanted you to find out for yourself just like she did.”
“You mean you played with your Mother?” asked Hank, even more stunned.
“Yep. We were at Grans’ and Granpa’s, and were helping set up for Grandpa’s poker group. She saw us playing with Grandpa and just about died!” explained Michelle.
“What happened?” asked Hank, riveted.
“We dealt her in next hand and wiped her out,” replied Nicole matter-of-factly.
Hank couldn’t help but smile at the thought of his wife losing at poker to their daughters. I LOVE IT! Em lost her shirt to her own daughters!
While Hank was lost in deep thought, everyone except Michelle watched Nicole’s shuffling technique in awe.
“Man, if I did that, we’d be playing 52 Pickup,” remarked John.
“Not we, you,” corrected Chet.
Michelle cut the cards, and Nicole dealt. After everyone placed their bets, the unwanted cards were put aside, and Nicole dealt new ones. Not everyone was pleased with their hand.
“Aww, man, I’m right back where I started,” grumbled Chet.
“This isn’t much better, but it’ll have to do,” groused Marco.
“Garbage. Pure, unadulterated garbage,” mumbled Roy.
John sighed.
“I don’t believe this,” said Mike, trying to come up with something out of the mess in his hands.
Hank looked over the top of his cards at his smiling daughters, “If this is the best the dealer can do, she’s grounded.”
**********************************
The betting was a war between the girls and the guys, who were determined not to go down in flames like the battalion chiefs.
“I’ll see your twenty, and raise you ten more,” said Marco to Chet.
“Add ten to that,” said Roy, tossing a chip onto the pile.
“Make that another ten,” said John, adding his two chips.
“I’ll raise it twenty,” said Mike.
“Allow me to add twenty more,” said Hank as he plunked two chips onto the growing pile.
“I’ll see your twenty and raise you forty more,” responded Michelle.
“I’ll see your forty and raise you forty more,” said Nicole.
“I call,” announced Chet, tossing more chips. I
wonder what Double Trouble has up their sleeves?
“Three of a kind,” said Chet.
“Straight,” chimed in Marco.
“Two pair,” countered Roy.
“Pair,” groaned John.
“Flush” replied Mike.
“Four of a kind,” acknowledged Hank.
“Royal flush,” beamed Michelle.
“Straight flush,” smiled Nicole.
The guys were aghast. They sat at the table momentarily stunned, while their two rivals gloried in defeating even more members of the Los Angeles County Fire Department.
John broke the silence. “Well, I guess I better start the
dishes. Again.”
*************************************
“Gage, you can’t even win against two twelve-year-olds,” laughed Chet.
“Oh, shut up!” said John, turning on the faucet and pouring suds into the sink.
“Cap, I’m going to take the engine out back for a bath,” said Mike, heading out the door with Nicole and Michelle behind him.
“Card sharks! I’m raising two card sharks!” moaned Hank once the girls were out of earshot.
“I wouldn’t worry about it, Cap. They’re basically very sweet girls,” consoled Marco.
“Looks can be deceiving. My parents and I are going to have a long talk tomorrow,” said Hank in a firm tone.
“Go easy on the Chief, Cap. They’ve already made him cry,” joked Roy.
“I know the feeling,” said John from the sink. “Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is to lose to two kids?”
“No, why don’t you tell us,” countered Chet. “Speaking of embarrassing, Cap, how could you and Emily give two pretty little girls such wretched middle names?”
“I beg your pardon? Those happen to be family names.”
“’Agnes’ and ‘Harriet’ are family names? Who’s on which side of the family?”
“What are you talking about?” replied Hank, puzzled.
“Well, when I was scrubbing the latrine, Nicole and Michelle came in. We made a deal, if I told them my full name, they would tell me theirs, which they did. Nicole Harriet and Michelle Agnes.”
Hank smiled and shook his head, “Chet, you were conned.”
“What?!” responded Chet, even more shocked than when he lost to the twins in the poker game.
“Their names are Nicole Ruth and Michelle Grace. There’s nobody on either side of the family named ‘Harriet’ or ‘Agnes’.”
John laughed so hard, he almost dropped the plate he was drying. “How does it feel to be embarrassed by a couple of kids?”
“Shut up!” retorted an embarrassed Chet, turning the same shade of red as the engine.
***********************************
Outside, Nicole and Michelle slathered soap all over the Ward-LaFrance pumper, and decided to make their move on Mike.
“Hey, Mike? We have one more name left for our project...”
“I’ll tell you my full name for a price,” interrupted Mike.
“What did you have in mind?” asked Nicole.
“Chet’s middle name.”
“Deal,” said Michelle.
“Michael William Stoker.”
“Bernard,” said Nicole wringing out her rag.
“Chester Bernard Kelly?” mused Mike. That’s it? I thought it was something more hideous.
The two nodded, doing their best to look serious. Mike tried not to laugh as he went back to polishing the knobs and levers, though, every so often they heard a giggle from that side of the truck. While Nicole and Michelle cleaned the windows of Big Red, Mike turned to head inside. “Let me know when you’re finished, ladies.”
“We will,” replied Michelle, applying a generous amount of Windex.
*****************************************
“Where are the girls?” asked Hank as Mike opened the refrigerator.
“Outside finishing the windows on the engine,” replied Mike, pouring a glass of milk. “They said they would let me know when they’re finished.”
Mike couldn’t look at Chet without smiling.
“What?” asked Chet.
“Nothing,” grinned the engineer.
The sound of the airhorn startled everyone.
“Saved by the bell,” muttered Mike quietly to himself.
*******************************
Once they were back inside, Nicole and Michelle sat at their Dad’s desk, putting the pieces of their project together. When Hank didn’t see or hear them for about an hour, he went looking for them.
A set of twins and no noise. Something’s up. He peeked into his office, and saw them quietly finishing their project and starting on other homework. There are my little con artist card sharks. What am I saying? Marco’s right. They’re basically good girls. Em and I should be lucky when lots of kids their age are having sex, doing drugs, or in jail. So what if they have a vice? Almost all of us do. Daddy’s proud of his Princess and Angel. Hank quietly closed the office door and went back to the kitchen.
“So, what are Harriet and Agnes up to?” teased Roy.
“Doing their homework,” replied Hank, sitting down on the couch and scratching his namesake’s ears.
Mike caught sight of Chet out of the corner of his eye and
began giggling uncontrollably. I don’t
know why I find this so funny. I need to stop loaughing or the guys’ll think I’m
certifiable.
“What?” asked Chet.
“Nothing,” chuckled Mike.
Michelle walked into the kitchen, tugged on her Dad’s sleeve, and whispered in his ear.
“Be right back, guys,” said Hank as Michelle took him by the hand, practically dragging him off the couch and out the door.
Once they were out in the apparatus bay, Michelle clued him in on both her sister and Mike.
“Nicole had to use the bathroom, and got locked in. Mike’s laughing about Chet’s middle name.”
Cap held the door open, and asked, “What’s his middle name?”
“Bogart.”
“You’re kidding?”
Hank’s jaw almost hitting the pavement. At
least somebody has a worse name than I do.
Michelle shook her head and went inside.
“Nicole, sweetheart, are you okay?”
“Yeah. This is SO embarrassing,” replied a muffled voice. “If either of you ever repeat this...”
“Is the latch stuck?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll pass you a can of WD-40 to spray the latch.”
“Okay.”
Hank ran back to the kitchen and opened the cabinet below the sink. He pulled out the can of WD-40 and slammed the door.
“What’s up, Cap?” asked John, curiously.
“Nicole went to use the facilities and got locked in,” replied Hank, shaking the blue and yellow can to see if it was full.
“That latch again?” asked Roy.
“Yeah,” said Hank, sticking the little red tube into the nozzle.
“I remember when Dixie got locked in there. Man, I never knew a woman could cuss like a sailor,” said Marco.
“I thought she was going to rip the door off its hinges,” remembered Chet.
“Well, I’m off to rescue Nicole before she decides to rip the door off, and Nicole would do it, too,” said Hank as he exited the kitchen. His voice fading as he crossed the bay.
Hank entered the locker room where his daughter was being held hostage by the bathroom stall. He was just in time to see Nicole climbing over the top of the stall.
“Nicole!”
“What?” she asked innocently. “You were taking forever with the WD-40.”
Hank sighed and shook his head. As she started lowering herself down, he reached up and assisted her down the rest of the way.
“Thank you, Dad.”
“You’re welcome, Princess.”
**********************************
The duo returned to the office to finish their homework, while Hank walked into an interrogation in the kitchen. Mike was being grilled about what had been making him laugh.
“Stoker, c’mon! Out with it! Every time you look at me you start to laugh! Do I have something hanging out of my nose?” asked an exasperated Chet.
“Yeah. That mustache,” replied John.
“Very funny!” glared Chet.
“Hey, watch what you say about mustaches!” said Marco, stroking his own.
“Stoker, you might as well face facts. We’re not going to leave you alone until you tell us,” explained Roy.
The engineer looked around the table at his station mates, and sighed. They’d drag it out of me eventually. “You really want to know?”
“Let us in on the joke,” answered Hank for the group.
“Well, when we were cleaning the engine, I told them I would tell them my full name for a price.”
“What was the price?” asked Roy.
“Chet’s middle name,” he responded, looking directly at the stocky firefighter.
“They didn’t?” replied a stunned Chet.
“Yep. Chester Bernard Kelly.”
“Bernard? Johnny and I were told it was Balthasar,” said Roy.
“Balthasar? They told me it was Barclay,” said John. “Balthasar?”
“Barclay? My sources told me it was Bogart,” said Hank.
“Really? I always thought it was something outrageous, like Baxter,” said Marco.
“I don’t believe this,” responded Chet, throwing his arms up in exasperation . “Balthasar, Barclay, Bernard, Bogart, and Baxter?!”
“So which is it?” asked John.
“None of them!” replied Chet forcefully.
“None of them?” asked Roy incredulously. “You mean to tell me we were all duped, including ‘Daddy’?”
“’Daddy’ is always being conned because I’m more gullible than ‘Mommy’,” replied Hank. “That’s how we ended up with the cat.”
Nicole and Michelle came into the kitchen with their backpacks and felt the stares of six pairs of eyes.
“What?” asked Michelle innocently.
“We were just discussing Chet’s middle name,” answered Hank. “Want to take a guess?”
“Nope. We already know what it is. We promised we wouldn’t tell, and we didn’t. It was too embarrassing for him,” responded Nicole.
“Is that why you told each of us a different name?” asked John.
“You guys, Dixie, Dr. Brackett, Dr. Morton, Dr. Early, and Vince,” replied Michelle.
Chet smiled at their attempt to spare him embarrassment. Man, I’d hate to think what they told the gang at Rampart.
“So, what is his real name?” asked Marco.
“We’ll never tell,” said Nicole stoically.
“You guys want a really good laugh?” asked Michelle.
The six nodded.
“John Roderick Gage!” the twins blurted out in unison, then broke into laughter. The guys joined in a couple of seconds later.
“What’s so funny?” asked John.
“’John’ means ‘God’s gift,’ and ‘Roderick’ means ‘famous’,” said Nicole.
“Yeah. So?” asked John, furrowing his eyebrows.
“Gage, how dumb can you be?” asked Chet. “You think you’re ‘God’s gift’ to women, and you’re ‘famous’ for striking out.”
The room erupted into laughter.
“That does it. I’m changing my name,” muttered John, shaking his head.
**********************
After Spring Break, the English project grades were issued, and Nicole and Michelle were pleasantly surprised by their grade. They practically ran home from school to tell their parents. On his next shift, Hank called Chief Sorensen to let him know how the girls did.
“Hank, I’m sure you and Emily are very pleased.”
“We are. In fact, Nicole and Michelle still can’t believe they got an A-plus,” replied Hank with a proud smile.
“Well, I’m delighted your crew was able to help, and I’m thankful they didn’t use my name, but it’s the cross I have to bear,” he commented with a shudder. “I’ll talk to you later, Hank.”
“Okay, Chief. Bye.”
After he hung up the phone, Chief Sorensen sat back in his chair, and put his hands behind his head, and sighed, “Bartholomew Alexander Thaddeus Sorensen. What a burden with initials that spell ‘BATS’. Amazing that the hospital got it all on the birth certificate. It just goes to show that parents should let the kids pick their own
names.”
Author’s note: This
story is actually a tangent to a story that is currently in the works. See what
happens when you stray from the original plot! Many thanks to my beta-readers
Carol and Margaret-Anne. An additional thank you to M-A for allowing me the use
of her name. Thank you to Kate for sending me the baby name books.