LATER THAT EVENING, Shannon somehow found herself alone with her mother, a situation she tried hard to avoid.
John had been the first to leave, and then it was like lemmings heading over a cliff. Uncle Donald and Willow hurried off to attend a movie. Linda was tired, so she and Sean had gone home, and Patrick took Gramps and her father to the marina to look at a boat he was thinking of buying.
After dessert was eaten, everyone had helped clean the kitchen, so there wasn’t much left to do except strip the cloth off the table, put it through the laundry and carry the garbage out. While Shannon was doing that, Mary made another pot of coffee and set two mugs and a plate of oatmeal cookies on the kitchen table, which made it pretty difficult for Shannon to stage the quick getaway she’d planned.
“I like your young man,” Mary said, pouring cream into her mug.
“Mom, John is not my young man.”
“Oh, so you let just anybody kiss you like that in the kitchen? I wasn’t spying. I was just coming to see what had become of the pies.”
Rats. Busted. And how on earth could she explain now that she figured John might be an arsonist, and she was just trying to get at the truth?
“I don’t think he’s been around families like ours a whole lot. He seemed a little on edge. What do you know about his background, Shannon?”
Good question. The answer: not half as much as she’d like to know.
Shannon shrugged. “Just what he told everybody at dinner. That his father was a fireman, that he’s dead now. And he did tell me he’s an only child and his mother’s alcoholic—she’s been in and out of hospitals. I gather that John takes care of her.”
Mary nodded. “He’s a kind man. It shows in his eyes.”
And by the way he drags dogs and women out of burning warehouses?
Time to change the subject. “Mom, you used to know Willow really well, didn’t you?”
“Well, yes, long ago. We were friends before either of us married. We toured with that little rock band. But years passed, and we lost touch. People change, I can’t say I know her all that well anymore.” Mary’s voice took on her usual worried tone. “I just hope Donald isn’t going to break her heart. He’s so careless about women’s feelings.” She sighed and then brought her attention back to Shannon. “Why do you ask, dear? Isn’t it working out, having Willow board with you?”
“I’m not exactly sure yet.” Shannon explained about all the things Willow had ripped out at her house. “I just wondered if you knew how good she is at finishing things she’s started.”
To Shannon’s surprise, Mary laughed. “If that isn’t just like her. I remember her taking a dress of mine apart one afternoon. I wanted it for the show we were doing that night and she insisted it needed to be taken in and hemmed. She went to the store for thread, and darned if she didn’t go flitting off with some boy she met there. I was furious with her. I don’t think she ever fixed that dress for me.”
Shannon tipped her head back and groaned. “That’s what I was afraid of. Willow the total whacko, the human wrecking ball. I’ll bet she drove her husband nuts, ripping their house apart. I’ll bet he’s relieved she’s gone.”
Mary looked uncertain. “I doubt that. I never met Steve Redmond, and she’s never really said it in so many words, but I think Willow was in an abusive marriage.”
“Oh, no. Oh, Lordy, Mom, why would she stay with him so long?” It was something Shannon never understood. There’d been calls she’d gone on where it was obvious the woman had been beaten. A month or two later, another call, same woman. What was that about?
“I’m only guessing, but I’d imagine it was because of her son. Aaron had to have numerous operations on his leg when he was growing up, and Willow had no career apart from playing the guitar. She couldn’t have supported Aaron and herself all on her own. Things were different back then…laws weren’t as strict about support. And I’ve read that women who are beaten always believe the man is going to change.”
“Yeah, right, like that’s gonna happen. Why are women so gullible?”
“I guess we all want to believe in happily ever after.”
Shannon remembered something Willow had said about Mary refusing Caleb’s marriage proposals. “Was that what you wanted, Mom? To get married and live happily ever after?”
Mary studied her coffee cup for several long moments, and then she slowly shook her head. “No, it wasn’t. As a matter of fact, I didn’t want to get married at all. You know there were fourteen kids in my family. I grew up changing diapers and baby-sitting and sleeping in a bed with at least two of my sisters. I decided early on I wanted a singing career instead of that.”
“So what changed your mind?”
Mary raised her eyes and met Shannon’s. “I got pregnant, and I didn’t believe in abortion. So your father and I got married.”
Shannon was stunned. She stared at her mother. “You never told me that before.”
Mary’s smile was wry. “It’s not exactly something I broadcast, dear. Don’t get me wrong, I couldn’t be happier about Sean and Linda. Attitudes were very different when I was a girl.”
Shannon was doing math in her head. “But—was that—were you pregnant with…with Thomas?” Of course she knew that Mary and Caleb had lost their first son when he was only two. He’d caught some virus and died within twenty-four hours. But the dates still didn’t add up. Shannon figured they’d been married a couple of years before Thomas was born.
“No, no. Not Thomas. I lost that first baby when I was six months pregnant. She didn’t live.”
“But you were already married.”
“Yes, of course. Your father had proposed time and time again. When he found out about the baby, he was overjoyed. We got married right away. And then I had the miscarriage. In those days, they didn’t let you see the baby, but I insisted. She was so beautiful. I called her Angela, because she was already with the angels.” Mary’s hazel eyes filled with tears. “I got pregnant again almost right away. With Thomas.”
Who’d died at age two. Shannon reached across the table and took her mother’s hand.
“Mom, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
Mary squeezed Shannon’s fingers and let them go so she could get up and find a box of tissues. “Of course you didn’t.” She sat back down and blew her nose. “How could you? It’s not something I ever talk about.”
Shannon didn’t know how to phrase the next question, but she very much needed to ask it. “Were…were you sorry you’d gotten married, Mom? I mean, you lost the baby. You still could have gone ahead with your career—”
Mary shook her head. “Never. I grew to love your father more after we were married than I had before. He was heartbroken when we lost the baby. Sometimes love happens fast, like it did for Sean and Linda. Other times, it grows slowly, like it did for me with Caleb. One kind is no better than the other, as long as you recognize it and treasure it. And I’ve been so lucky. You and Sean and Patrick are all healthy, thank God.” She paused, and Shannon knew what was coming. She got the usual sinking feeling in her stomach.
“Although I guess I’ll never get used to you and Sean having such dangerous jobs.” Mary sighed, a familiar sound, and her face took on the expression that Shannon thought of as her martyr mask. “I know you think just because you’re young and strong, nothing can happen to you, but it’s not true, Shannon. Your father’s lungs are damaged from breathing in smoke. Sean has had I don’t know how many close calls. I’ve told you before I think it’s foolhardy and thoughtless of you to work on the trucks the way you do. You could transfer into dispatch or become a medic. Why won’t you see reason, honey?”
This was the point where they usually got into a heated argument. This time, however, Shannon didn’t feel the usual irritation and impatience with her mother. She hadn’t realized before how vulnerable Mary must feel about her children. Losing two babies was enough to make anyone paranoid. And she’d also lost her dreams, regardless of how much she denied it. Instead of anger, Shannon felt compassion.
“You and Dad raised us kids to be brave, Mom. From the time we were little, we heard the story of Michael O’Shea getting saved by the Chumash princess.” Her voice was soft, and she struggled hard to find the words that would help her mother understand.
“It’s in our blood, Mom, this need to help people. Sean and I do it one way, and now Patrick’s chosen another. I’m doing what I love. I feel so lucky every working day to have a job I enjoy, one that challenges me to the max. It bothers me that…” Damn, her eyes were filling up. Was she going to bawl here? She cleared her throat, but the tears came anyway, dripping down her cheeks. “It bothers me that—that you aren’t proud of me, Mom. I always wanted to make you proud of me.” She was sobbing in earnest now, and she hated to cry. She hardly ever did. It made her furious. She reached out and grabbed a handful of tissues and blew her nose hard.
“Not proud of you?” Mary was horrified. “Oh, sweetheart, I have always been so proud to have you for my daughter. And even though I worry, I also tell everyone I meet that you’re a firefighter. How many women could do your job? Never, ever think for one moment that I’m not proud of you, because it’s just not true. That’s like saying I don’t love you.” She got to her feet and pulled Shannon out of her chair, wrapping her in a fierce, long hug. “My beautiful, strong daughter,” Mary said through her own tears.
They stopped crying eventually, and drank coffee and ate cookies and talked about Linda and the baby and John and Willow and Donald, giggling together the way they had when Shannon was younger.
And by the time she headed home, the wound in Shannon’s heart had begun to mend.
IT FELT GOOD to be on better terms with her mother, but other things weren’t going as well. John didn’t call the way she’d hoped he might. And Shannon was beginning to think that her relationship with Willow was also on the downswing.
Her house still looked as if a missile had hit it. Granted, Willow was working long hours at the clinic, but even on the weekend, she hadn’t made any appreciable effort at putting Shannon’s place back together again. Shannon was wondering how best to deal with the problem when Lisa called from work.
“I need to talk to you about Willow,” she said after they’d exchanged pleasantries.
Shannon got a sinking feeling in her gut. “How’s that working out?”
“On the whole, really well.” Lisa didn’t sound too certain, though. “She’s a crackerjack with people, and she’s excellent with the patients. But I wondered—have you noticed any problems with her and anything electronic?”
“Electronic? Not as far as I know. What’s going on?”
“Well, Agnes left things in such a mess here, and Willow said she knew exactly how to sort it out, but in the process she deleted the files on the computer. All the files. It’s sort of a disaster because all our tax info was on there. We now have no idea where we stand financially, and even our friendly computer nerd can’t retrieve anything. He says that by trying to fix it herself, she somehow fried the motherboard. The machine was almost brand-new. Then the autoclave we use to sterilize the instruments stopped working, and without consulting anyone, Willow tried to fix it, but it blew up. Thank goodness no one was hurt. And now this morning our X-ray machine’s out of commission. She said it wasn’t working properly and she adjusted something on it and it gave out.”
Same story, different page, Shannon was thinking.
“In other ways, Willow’s such a good employee,” Lisa added. “She’s here on time every day, she works really hard, she has a great attitude. I just wondered if you’d noticed anything?”
Give it up, Shannon. Lisa deserves to know about Willow’s not so little quirk.
“I haven’t noticed anything with appliances or electricity, but there is a major issue around here with steps and decks and plumbing and stuff. She pretty much wrecked half the house, promised she’d fix it all, and hasn’t. I’m going to have to speak to her about it.”
Lisa sighed. “That’s what I’m going to have to do, too, I guess. But what do I tell her? I can’t forbid her to touch the machines. Using them is part of her job.”
“Well, I’m definitely going to say that I don’t want another single thing torn out until the rest of this stuff is fixed.”
“And I’ll have to make a rule about not repairing anything on her own. I don’t for a moment think she screws things up deliberately. Her intentions are the best. But the end result is the same, deliberate or not. By the way, your uncle Donald takes her to lunch almost every day. They’re out together right now, and he picks her up after work. He’s such a sweet guy. They make a cute couple.”
Shannon rolled her eyes. Uncle Donald, professional heartbreaker, and Willow, demolition expert, didn’t exactly strike her as a match made in heaven. “I really hope it works for them,” she managed to say.
“Me, too. And speaking of work, how is Salvage making out at the firehouse?”
“Oh, the guys love him. The only problem is he’s gonna gain way too much weight. They keep bringing him treats and bones and leftovers. He now has his own doggy bed, more toys than most kids and his own grooming tools.”
Lisa laughed. “He’s hit doggy heaven.”
“I’d say so.”
“Gotta go here, Shannon. Somebody just brought in a snake with a bellyache. Let’s get together soon.”
“For sure.” Shannon hung up the phone. It probably wasn’t funny for Lisa or the snake, but she couldn’t help smiling. Firefighters had some strange calls, but they’d never encountered a snake with a bellyache. She’d have to tell the guys about that one when she went to work the following afternoon. She was starting her night shift rotation, six in the evening to six the next evening.
MAYBE THE SNAKE WAS a portent, because the next day, Shannon hadn’t been on shift even an hour when the first call came in.
“Engine One, Rescue One. First alarm to 199 Main Street—report of woman lodged in tree,” the dispatcher related in her usual flat monotone.
The shift sergeant was Marty Rodriguez, a grizzled, tough veteran all the probies were afraid of. He was straightlaced, and as far as anyone could tell, had absolutely no sense of humor.
“How the hell could a woman get lodged in a tree?” he growled. “And what’s she doing up there at this time of night?” Marty was infamous for heading for bed at eight-thirty if he could get away with it. It was still light outside, but Shannon was as puzzled as the rest of the crew as they hurried to the truck and headed out.
When they reached the destination, however, it all became clear. Wayne, a tall, stooped man with a woebegone expression, met the truck in front of a small suburban bungalow and led the crew around to the back. He pointed up a tall old cherry tree where an extremely large, redheaded woman was perched on one branch, her arms wrapped around another. She was wearing blue shorts, and one massive bare thigh was stuck between two other branches.
“It’s about time you got here, you lowlifes,” she bellowed down at them. She had the kind of shrill voice that would carry for blocks. “A person could die up here, waiting for you frigging slackers to turn up. You better bloody well get up here and do something before this goddamn branch lets go, or so help me, I’ll sue the ass off the city.”
Shannon exchanged glances with John. She could see he was also trying to keep a straight face.
“Bunny’s stuck up there,” Wayne explained unnecessarily. “She went after Sammy. Sammy’s her cat. He’s way higher up—see him?”
They all craned their necks, and sure enough, Shannon could just make out a ginger cat, clinging to a branch near the top of the tree.
“Bunny got that far and then she slipped and got her leg stuck between those two branches,” Wayne told them. “And I tried my best to get her down, honest. Tried to get Sammy down first, but he wouldn’t come. So Bunny, well, she’s got a short fuse, like. She got mad at me and went up herself.”
Bunny was now calling the entire fire department names that would have made a stevedore blush. Short fuse was an understatement.
“I can’t get either one of them down,” Wayne declared, wringing his hands. “And I’m scared that branch she’s sitting on is gonna let go any minute,” he added in a plaintive tone. “So I called you guys. I didn’t know what else to do.”
As Bunny went on mouthing off, Shannon thought that in Wayne’s situation, she might have been tempted to go inside, turn the volume up on the television and let nature take its course.
There was no way to get the truck close enough to use the lift, so they decided on a ladder. By the time it was in position, Bunny was screaming and swearing as the branch supporting her gave yet another ominous creak.
“You better go up first, O’Shea,” Marty ordered in a low tone. “Miss Manners up there is trouble. If I send a man up, she’s liable to charge him with sexual assault. Do what you can. You need help, Forester will back you.”
Shannon climbed up and did her best to calm Bunny down while she figured out how to extricate her. It wasn’t going to be easy. Bunny’s substantial right thigh was pinned good and tight between two large branches.
“Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do,” Shannon decided. “I’ll get off the ladder and onto that limb over there. I’ll support you from behind in case the branch you’re on breaks, and John will come up the ladder with the saw and cut off the branch that’s got your leg trapped—”
Bunny started to scream like a rusty saw blade. “You’ll cut my leg! You’re all assholes! Nobody’s coming near me with any bloody saw!”
“Calm down and stop hollering,” Shannon ordered. “We’re absolute experts with saws. We won’t come anywhere near your leg with the blade.”
By the time John climbed the ladder with the saw, the backyard was filled with neighbors, most of whom were finding the situation amusing. Shannon could hear their subdued laughter, and so could Bunny, who screamed invectives down at them, ordering them off her property and threatening to charge them with trespassing, which had no effect. Nobody moved. It was far too good a show.
Shannon’s arms barely made it around Bunny’s sweaty and substantial middle, and she was finding it tough to subdue her own hysterical giggles as John fired up the power saw and Bunny screamed bloody murder.
The situation struck Shannon as hysterically funny, and from the frozen expression on John’s face and the look in his eyes, she suspected he was struggling not to laugh. The two of them managed not to make eye contact. Shannon was convinced they’d both lose it if that happened, and Bunny would call a press conference to protest the heartlessness of Courage Bay’s fire department.
After a few tense moments and shrill screams from Bunny, John managed to slice off the tree limb and free the human one. Bunny sagged backward into Shannon’s arms, and as she did so, the branch holding her gave one last creak and began to give way.
“Grab her, John, I can’t support her—”
John made a frantic lunge for Bunny, barely managing to keep her and Shannon from falling. Bunny, thoroughly terrified by now and still screaming and swearing in turns, wrapped both her arms and legs around John in an octopus hold, nearly upsetting the ladder. If he’d been a smaller man, the two of them would have toppled.
Over Bunny’s shoulder, Shannon saw the expression of stupefied horror on John’s face, and she lost it. Helpless tears rolled down her cheeks as she tried to muffle the laughter that exploded out of her as John somehow got Bunny and himself down the ladder.
When they were finally on the ground, Bunny planted an openmouthed, extended kiss square on John’s lips. He turned magenta and struggled to dislodge her, but she took her own sweet time letting him go.
Shannon, finally in control of herself, was halfway down the ladder when Bunny, in a tone worthy of a drill sergeant, ordered, “Hey! You get right back up there, bitch, and get my poor Sammy down.”
Shannon hesitated. A glance upward confirmed that, sure enough, the orange cat was precariously clinging to a thin branch a lot farther up the tree.
“Lady,” Shannon heard Marty say in a no-nonsense tone, “get this through your head. We’re not rescuing your cat from this tree, you understand me? To do so would endanger O’Shea. Cats come down by themselves. I’ve never seen a cat skeleton in any tree, have you? Anybody here ever seen a cat skeleton in a tree? There you go.” Without waiting for Bunny’s answer, he bellowed, “O’Shea, get down here. We’re done.”
Shannon did, grateful about not having to scale the tree again. She knew they’d rescued cats and even a baby parrot from trees before, but it was at the discretion of the shift boss. Rodriguez had obviously had it with Bunny and her mouth, which now went into overdrive. The woman spewed out curses and threats and pleas, in the midst of which the crew made a hasty escape. So did the neighbors. Shannon gave Wayne a sympathetic glance. No wonder he looked so haggard.
The moment they were safely in the truck, everyone except Marty Rodriguez burst into laughter, and they went on laughing hard as the truck made its way back to the station.
Shannon figured later that was probably why no one noticed the smoke billowing from under their truck.
At a stoplight, a young guy on a bike banged on the side of the cab and hollered, “Hey, your fire truck’s on fire.”
Rodriguez pulled to the curb, swearing, and everyone jumped off.
Sure enough, the bottom of the truck was shooting out flames and smoke. A quick call brought the pumper truck, and the fire was extinguished, but not before photographs were taken of the fire truck on fire and the frantic crew doing their best to put it out.
A disgusted Rodriguez went straight off to bed, and for the rest of the evening, the story of Bunny combined with the burning fire truck went the rounds, amid gales of laughter and lots of ribaldry aimed in John’s direction as a result of Bunny’s kiss.
Shannon was brushing Salvage later that night when John joined her.
The dog whined and wriggled away from Shannon, doing his best to balance on his one back leg and his bottom so he could put his front paws up on John’s leg.
“Hey, fella, aren’t you looking good? Gaining a little weight here, I see. Gonna have to watch the old gut.” He patted the dog’s sides and turned his attention to Shannon. “Your cousin called me—thanks for the referral. I spent yesterday afternoon with him looking at condos.”
So they were going to discuss real estate. “Did you find anything you liked?”
“Unfortunately, no, but he’s going to see what else is out there. By the way, I wondered if you’d seen this yet? They were just unloading the magazines when I dropped into the drugstore today.” He handed one to her.
She glanced down at it and groaned. It was this month’s copy of California Woman, and her photo was spread across the cover. She was in turnout gear, one knee on the cement, the other balancing her helmet. Behind her was Engine One.
“Oh, no, they went and put me on the cover.” She felt her face flame with embarrassment. “I look like a total dork. And now I feel like one, too. The interviewer told me that this was going in as a rush story. I never dreamed they’d make it this prominent.”
“You look beautiful and dignified.” John’s quiet voice made the words sound matter-of-fact. “And the interview is top-notch. The person who did it obviously really liked and admired you.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” Shannon muttered, flipping the magazine open.
There were more photos of her accompanying the article. She scanned it quickly, and had to admit that Melissa Child had written a fairly balanced, albeit flattering, story. But Shannon could feel her insides shrivel at the thought of the number of people who would be reading the magazine.
“Maybe nobody buys this thing,” she said hopefully.
“They had four bundles of it at the drugstore. I’d say it’s pretty popular.” John grinned at her. “Face it, O’Shea, you’re a celebrity.” He brushed the dog hair off his trousers. “I think I’ll join the guys. They’ve rented When We Were Kings. You gonna join us?”
She shook her head. “It’s a great movie—I’ve seen it twice before. I’m gonna make some fresh coffee and a sandwich.”
She hoped he’d offer to keep her company, but he didn’t.
“See you later, Shannon.”
“Enjoy.” She watched him walk off, admiring the way his back narrowed to a slim waist. He had the best ass. He had the best everything, damn his deceitful hide.
Salvage was also watching him walk away, and whined regretfully.
“You know him, don’t you, boy? I’m not hallucinating here. He hauled us out of that warehouse, I’m positive he did.” She went back to grooming the dog, wondering how best to put into action the plan she and Linda had concocted, the one that involved seducing the truth out of him. It was going to be tough if John stuck to this avoidance routine he seemed to be on.
That night was relatively quiet. There was a call-out at three in the morning to an apartment where a man was bleeding. It turned out the guy had hemorrhoids. Shannon was able to go straight back to sleep when they returned to the station.
The rest of the shift was routine until four the following afternoon. The crew was just about to sit down to an early dinner when the alarm sounded.
“Engine One, Rescue One. First alarm. Report of man trapped in a car with his penis chained to the steering column. Police request assistance. Gravel road off of Fisher Street.”
Mystified, they looked at one another and waited until the dispatcher repeated the information.
“Must be some mistake, or somebody playing a joke,” Rodriguez insisted in a dour tone as the truck left the station, and the rest of the crew agreed.
But when they arrived at the location and Shannon got out of the truck, she saw a battered old green car with a half-naked man in the driver’s seat. The car’s side doors were open, and two young police constables were standing by. The man was about forty, mostly bald and sporting a pronounced potbelly. He was wearing a black T-shirt, white athletic socks, navy runners and nothing else.
A large empty bottle of rum was on the seat beside him. He was sipping from a second, half-full bottle. What looked like a short bicycle cable was looped tightly around his penis and testicles and secured with a locking device. Another bike cable was strung through the first, its two ends threaded through the car’s steering wheel and then fastened together.
Rodriguez took a long look and then shook his head in disgust. “What bloody next?”
“We’ve been trying to figure out how to get him out of this,” one of the young policeman said, obviously trying to sound professional, but the scandalized expression on the shift sergeant’s face did him in. A burst of laughter quickly became a cough.
“Those locks have a tubular key,” he added when he’d regained control. “Waldo here says he threw it into the bush somewhere over there.” The officer gestured toward the thick undergrowth at the side of the road. “We’ve looked for it, but we can’t locate it. We called a locksmith. He says he could pick an ordinary lock, but these special tubular keys aren’t doable.”
Shannon heard him let out another snort of suppressed laughter.
“Craziest call I’ve ever been on,” he said. “A guy hiking along this road came across him and called us. Waldo says he’s been here since about three this afternoon. Had a fight with his girlfriend.”
“Now, why would you go and do something like this, Waldo?” Shannon heard John say in a reasonable tone to the man in the car.
The guy turned his head and looked up at John with sagging basset hound eyes. His voice was slurred and he burped long and loud before he said, “I’ve hurt too many women with this thing. This’s the only way I can think of to stop myself.”
“Oh, yeah? Well, it seems just a little extreme to me, Waldo,” John remarked.
“Extreme?” Rodriguez was building up a head of steam. “Extreme? Try totally bonkers. What kind of a dumb prick—” He caught himself and swore under his breath. “Okay, let’s go find that so-and-so key so we can get back to supper.”
Shannon joined the others, crawling around on her hands and knees in the underbrush in a futile search for the lost key. Every so often she got the giggles, and she could hear the others trying to muffle their laughter, as well.
Finally, after some discussion between Rodriguez and the policemen about how to proceed, John got a hacksaw out of the tool kit and started to work through the end of the cable attached to the wheel, amidst curses and squeals of pain from Waldo.
“Just hang in there, sir,” John kept saying, which made it harder than ever for the firefighters and the policemen to stifle their laughter.
When Waldo was finally free of the steering wheel, they gently loaded the unfortunate victim, along with the cable still circling his swollen privates, into the back seat of the cruiser. The police had offered to drive him to Emergency at the hospital.
Shannon tried to stop laughing and couldn’t. “How do you think the docs in the E.R. will handle this one?”
“Probably give him a sedative and elevate the injured member until the swelling goes down,” Spike said. “Or they could call somebody who’s into S and M, This sort of thing must happen now and again.”
When the police car drove away, hilarity swept through the crew of firefighters, and it was all they could do to load the tools back into the truck. Rodriguez shook his head, swore under his breath and never cracked a smile, which added to the whoops of laughter that erupted all the way back to the station.