St. Patrick's Day Surprise: A Short Story

The rain was torrential. Vig was not on duty, which was a good thing. It was the beginning of softball season and the guys liked to have a few cocktails after practice. Vig was leaving the bar after sipping celebratory 7 & 7's with Eric and Steve Circ. The guys played hard last year; they finally won it all - beating the younger teams. It was getting harder and harder to be competitive, however. Especially for Eric, who was older than Vig and Steve Circ. With his erect posture and boyish smile, nobody really knew how old Eric was. But his twisted fingers and deep wrinkles gave him away. He was getting up there.

Vig began the long stumble home. After a few blocks, he thought he heard Eric and Steve Circ shouting. It was probably nothing. The Irish bar was crazy, packed full of kids swilling cheap green beer; pinching each other and laughing uncontrollably loud. The night was filled with racket. Vig hated St. Patrick's Day.

He heard the yelling again and stopped his drunken shuffle to listen. Yep, it sounded like Eric and Steve Circ all right, but what was all the commotion about? Vig reluctantly turned and started back, towards the sound of his friend's voices. It was hard to see through the downpour. But it was worse than simple rain. And there was that familiar, pungent smell. It was rain mixed with smoke.

When Vig finally reached Eric and Steve Circ, they were standing in the middle of the street across from Dunleavy's Bar. Even though the rain was beating down, a crowd was gathering outside. Old Man Arc lived beside the bar and his house was engulfed in flames. It was raging.

Steve Circ paced nervously in the street, yammering on about the contradiction between fire and driving rain. Wondering aloud why the rain wasn't putting out the fire, or at least lessening the flames. Nonsense, stream-of-conscious dribble spewed from Circ's oversized mouth.

Eric worried silently. His thin lips pressed against his teeth in a tight line. His wild eyebrows pushed together. His face, which resembled a carved apple you find in mountain stores, had a look of distress.

"Think the Old Man's in there?" Eric asked Vig quietly.

Nobody had seen the Old Man that day, and he wasn't at his bar - which was unusual.

"Nah" Vig replied, avoiding Eric's gaze.

Even though the Old Man was like a father to Vig, he didn't want to go in. Being a fireman, Vig knew what needed to happen. Yet he had enjoyed too many cocktails to brave the flames alone.

While Vig pondered his next move, sirens blared in the distance. Ladder 49 came barreling into view. A wave of relief mingled with dread washed over Vig. The Fire Chief and Vig were on the outs and Vig didn't feel like dealing with any of the drama tonight - his night off.

The Fire Chief's daughter Vera had eyes on Vig. An ethereal beauty, Vera had glistening auburn hair and golden skin as smooth as china. Vig and Vera's flirtation had been going on for years. Vig was a girl magnet but he had never messed with the Chief's precious daughter.

The Chief respected Vig while he was on the job but he didn't want his daughter to have anything to do with Vig romantically. And Vera was getting restless. It wasn't only that she was the Chief's daughter. Vera and Steve Circ used to date. It was casual but still, he'd been friends with Circ since childhood. Hooking up with Vera was wrong on so many levels.

The fire truck screeched to a stop and everything kicked into action. Vig knew the routine well; it looked like a finely choreographed dance. Hoses and ladders and men were moving in sequence. The air filled with the sounds of powerful water from the fire hoses mixed with hammering rain and chatter from the crowd.

As the firemen entered the burning house, Old Man Arc came stumbling out. A green top hat was perched precariously on his head and he was clothed in a green tuxedo-looking jacket with tails. He was tripping over his big-buckled shoes and there was an oddly-shaped bag flung over his shoulder. Through the thick smoke and pouring rain the Old Man looked like a grizzled, overgrown leprechaun. The paramedics rushed to the old man and grabbed the sack from his shoulders. It was Vera.