Page 9 of An Adventure For Aster

“Someone is always sneaking a cigarette where they shouldn’t be. I heard that they were afraid they were going to get caught and thought they snuffed it out and threw it in the trash. It lit some papers on fire.”

He kept the roll from his eyes, barely.

“We’ll find out soon enough.”

When the captain came out and over to him, they’d been told the same thing. The fire was in a garbage can and papers only, but they were going to do a sweep of the whole building.

They broke off on their own and walked around the rooms. He’d seen the name Ms. Scarsdale on a door and popped his head in there to look around.

The room resembled a rainbow on steroids experiencing roid rage.

Bright pops of color, paper animals, pictures, assignments. Every single inch of the wall was covered showcasing the kids' work.

Talk about a fire hazard, but he’d found it nice that she praised her students too.

He met up with Carter coming back down the hall. “That was the most excitement I’ve had in months,” Carter said. “Pretty sad. Don’t tell my wife.”

He didn’t even know what Carter’s wife’s name was or that the guy was married.

“No worries,” he said.

Aster took his helmet off when he got outside and heard the captain say everything was clear.

The kids were getting back in line to return to the building.

“Hi, Fireman Allen.”

He turned his head and saw the little boy who had used the bathroom at the firehouse a few weeks ago.

“Tyler, right?” he asked. He moved closer. Since Ms. Scarsdale was standing there freezing her butt off in a long navy dress with brown boots on, he thought he’d say hi and check her out some more.

“It is,” Tyler said. “He remembered, Ms. Scarsdale.”

“I see that,” she said, then turned to him. “Tyler says he wants to be a fireman when he grows up now.”

“Good for you,” he said. Aster wasn’t sure he’d wanted to do that, but most of his life he just wanted to get by. Wasn’t that what his parents did? No one had a college education in his family.

He didn’t want to sit in a classroom any longer than he had to. He was better off with hands-on training and got that and what he needed in the service.

Being the Director of Facilities for Blossoms, or any company, was never anything he’d thought he’d be. He knew it was because of Zane.

There were plenty out there more qualified than him or with a degree behind their name. Aster had been the MacGyver of his squad. Of every squad he was in. He managed the supplies, he made sure everything was cleaned and working the way it should, and then when something broke, he found a way to fix it with chewing gum and shoelaces. Half the time all they had were the shoelaces.

Zane had all the faith in the world in him and that was more than experience and education, he’d been told.

“Ms. Scarsdale, can we do a fire truck project please?”

He looked at the smile on her face. Not many kids asked for projects. At least that he knew of.

“I’ll have to think about that,” she said. “I’m sure I can come up with something.”

“Maybe Fireman Allen can help you,” Tyler said.

Aster looked down at her left hand and didn’t see a ring. The kids were calling her Ms. but that didn’t mean a damn thing. She could be seeing someone, for all he knew.

But Tyler didn’t say he could help in terms of a date, but rather a project.

“Let’s go, Aster,” he heard.

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