Shifting Gears

by Dana Waddell

"I hate THIS!" Johnny loudly protested as he carried a mop and bucket out of the latrine. "I can't wait 'til Chet gets back from vacation."

Roy, who had been scrubbing the hoses with Marco, put the complaining to rest. "Today's your last day of latrine duty. Chet's coming back today."

"That's right," Marco started. "I wonder how his trip to New York City went."

Mike spoke while checking on the engine valves. "His postcard didn't leave room for the imagination. All he said was, 'Hey guys, having a nice time in the Big Apple. See you soon, Chet.'"

Marco, hanging up the last of the hoses to dry, went to the engine and leaned against it. "He couldn't wait to see his relatives. It's been years since he last saw them."

"Well, I hope he had a blast." Roy picked up the brushes and placed them inside an empty bucket, setting it on floor.

"A blast?" Johnny dried his hands. "He owes us a ton of souvenirs! I asked him to bring back the Statue of Liberty."

Just then Hank Stanley walked in, overhearing Johnny's comment. "Gage, Chet's a pretty strong guy, but I don't think he could carry Lady Liberty on his shoulders."

"I meant a model of the Statue," Johnny retorted in a wry grin.

The crew fell into a fit of laughter as Chet walked in. His casual attire also included a New York Yankees baseball cap. He exclaimed, "The Phantom is back!"

"Chet! We were just talking about ya," Roy began. "And why are you wearing THAT?" He pointed to Chet's cap.

"This is Dodger territory, buddy." Mike forewarned as he strode towards Chet.

Chet raised his hands in self defense, "I know, I know, but the Yankees are hot back east, and I couldn't find an old Brooklyn Dodgers cap!"

"Take it off and get into your uniform before we get a call." Hank commanded while crossing his arms and standing close to Chet.

"Aye aye Captain," Chet said with a mock salute. "I didn't even have time to unpack! As soon as I got home from the airport, I put my bags down, got back in my car and drove here!"

Johnny rolled his eyes, "I guess that means our souvenirs are home?"

Roy remarked, "He wants his Statue of Liberty, Chet."

Chet reached into his jacket pocket. "Guys, I'm bringing those souvenirs tomorrow but for you Gage, I have something truly special." He brought out a small object, no bigger than a erasure, wrapped in frilly paper. He handed it to Johnny, "I wanted to give you this first before anything else. Just for you."

The crew milled around to see Johnny unraveling something similar to a miniature trolley. It was a ceramic ornament, decorated in metallic colors showing wheels, windows, and bright lettering. Johnny asked, looking from the palm of his hand to Chet, "What is it?"

Marco's nose twitched, "It looks like a steel caterpillar."

"No! It's a replica of a New York City subway car. My granddaddy used to drive the subway trains." Chet educated the curious firemen.

Roy smiled, "Wow! No kidding? You know they're building a transit system here in LA."

"I know, but the Transit System in New York in ENORMOUS. It's been around since 1904, operates 24 hours a day, carries over 3 million riders a year, and there are 25 subway routes throughout the city! It's amazing, man!" Chet resembled a child who reveled in the pleasure of owning his first Coleco electronic game.

"Can we finish this discussion in the rec room?" Hank showed his authoritative side. "The truck bay is NO place for candid conversations."

"Sorry Cap," the crew said in unison as they broke up the bantering.

"Thanks Chet, I'm going to treasure this," Johnny said as he went to the locker room. Roy and Chet followed closely behind him.

Chet was changing into his uniform as he noticed Roy and Johnny concentrating on the tiny subway car. "You guys should see the real thing!"

"The subway?" Roy asked as he took the miniature from Johnny's hand and studied it in his.

"The whole train! The car itself is about twice as big as our engine, so can you imagine ten of those linked together?"

Johnny blinked his eyes. He'd never seen any moveable object larger than the station's engine or an 18-wheeler. "I can't picture it."

"Neither could I," Roy commented as he passed the model back to Johnny.

"Guys, the subway system is always evolving. The City is having bigger problems now with vandalism, but those subways are something else."

"Sounds as if you did your homework," Roy said as he sat on the bench.

Chet shoved shirt tails into his slacks. "Well, I always had a fascination with the mass transit system in New York, even though I lived here all my life. My dad was going to be a motorman but decided to fight fires instead."

"Motorman? What's that?" Johnny asked.

"He's the guy in the front car who actually drives the train. Some cars down is the Conductor. He operates the opening and closing of doors and announces train stops."

Roy imagined two people harnessing a medieval Dragon. "Seems like hard work that has its dividends."

Chet slammed his locker shut and braced himself against the door. "While I visited New York, I took in a lot of sites. Empire State Building, Statue of Liberty, World Trade Center, New York Stock Exchange, and my favorite, The Transit Museum."

Johnny chuckled, "Are you kidding? They have museum for that?"

Chet took offense to Johnny's sarcastic tone. "I'll have you know that it opened up a couple of years ago. It used to be an old station that closed down! I was there for hours! They even displayed older subway cars!"

"Okay! Okay! Mister Train Man!" Johnny realized Chet was dead serious about his love for subway trains. "I hear ya. I'm surprised you didn't bring back a real subway car."

"Ha ha ha, Gage, pretty funny."

Just then the familiar tones sounded.

"Station 5, structure fire, 763 Sinclair. 7-6-3 Sinclair. Time out:14:42."

"Back to work already, and not another minute sooner," Chet mumbled quietly as he and the rest jogged to the awaiting trucks.

************

The engine and squad backed into the bay hours later. The fire was confined to one room of an abandoned warehouse. No injuries although Chet and Marco inhaled a great deal of smoke, and they received oxygen at the scene. Chet went through the same dramatics every week. No matter how small or large the fire was, he risked his life to contain it. The inch and a half was his weapon. He charged the hose into every fire, combating the blaze around him. The resulting smoke was another demon. What were the rewards for that? He thought. I've fallen through floors, had ceilings collapse on top of me, inhaled smoke until I damn near smothered to death, had cracked ribs, broken legs, fractures…all for what? Just to say I'm a fireman?

As Chet showered, thoughts went back and forth in his mind like a fast-paced tennis match. New York City was indeed a bustling town. You didn't go near Central Park, and you never talked to strangers. Staying at his cousin Irene's home was a blessing for Chet. She kept family photo albums that dated past generations. Chet came across photos of grandpa Jake as a young man living on the old block in Brooklyn. Some considered him to be a pioneer of the subway system. I bet he never swallowed smoke, Chet believed.

"Hey Kelly! Save some of that hot water for the rest of us!" Hank yelled in the distance.

Chet rinsed the shampoo from his hair. "Sorry Cap!"

Roy approached the stall Chet was using. "Usually takes you 10 minutes, not thirty. Everything okay?" Roy asked, turning his head away as Chet dried off.

He wrapped the towel around his waist and answered Roy. "Fine. Just needed a good shower to relax my muscles, that's all."

"Well, if you need to talk or anything, I'll be at my bunk," Roy volunteered as he left for the dorm.

"Appreciate it, Roy." Chet replied. Maybe there was something to talk about. He had been a fireman for over five years. Maybe it was time to change careers. On the day before he left New York, he picked up a job application with the New York City Mass Transit Authority. The job description was for a motorman. No experience needed. What would give me the most benefit in life? Fighting fires or driving a snaky subway train? If he chose the latter, that would mean leaving Station 51, Los Angeles and moving to New York City.

It was late and the A-shift climbed into their bunks for much needed rest. "Lights out!" Hank stated as Chet went to his bunk and slipped underneath the covers. I can take charge of a ten-car subway train. Hell, if Mike could manage a huge engine, why the hell not? The pay would be better. I can see myself living the New York night life with all the chicks at discos. Chet was having a hard time falling asleep. Once he heard Hank snoring, it was his cue to get cracking.

************

"Let's see. First name. That's easy enough." Chet mumbled as he started to write. He had tiptoed out of the dorm and made his way to the rec room, hopefully not disturbing the shift's peaceful rest. The beckoning application had an inner voice Chet couldn't refuse. "Fill me out, mail me in, apply for the job. No experience necessary. The MTA will train you for eight weeks. You can drive a steel train from uptown to downtown. Why carry a heavy hose over your shoulder? Why suffer burns anymore? Why see people lose homes and possessions in fire after fire? Drive the train, Chet, drive the TRAIN!"

"Hey Kelly, what are you doing up?" Johnny yawned as he was making his way to the kitchen. His entrance startled the dickens out of Chet.

"Gage," Chet stammered. "Don't EVER sneak up on me like that again! You want to send me to Rampart with a heart attack?"

Johnny rolled his eyes as he grabbed a milk container from the refrigerator. "I couldn't sleep, Chet, sorry." He explained while pouring himself a glass. Chet ignored him and continued working diligently on the application. Johnny became curious as he looked over Chet's shoulder, "What are you doing?"

"Nothing."

"It's after midnight, you're sitting in a half-lit room without the tube on, and writing on a piece of paper." Johnny took a swig. "Seems like something."

Chet exasperated, "Gage, I tell ya, it's nothing."

Johnny peered closely and noticed "Job Application" and "Transit Authority" written on the top of what appeared to be an application. "Chet?"

Chet slammed down his pen in annoyance, "What is it, Johnny?"

He took a seat next to Chet, resting his drinking glass on the table, and folded his arms. "Leaving us?"

"I-I-don't know what I want to do!" Chet sighed, averting his attention from the application. "I mean, part of me still wants to be a fireman but there's this underlying need for me to…drive subway trains."

Johnny grinned, masking an inexplicable feeling of worry. "I know you got into that while you were in New York. I didn't know it was serious."

"Gage, this is only between you, me, and the Big Guy upstairs. Lately, I've been thinking about changing careers, you know, shifting gears in my life."

Johnny released his held breath. He never thought he'd hear Chet, probably one of the best and bravest fireman in LA county, admit to the idea of quitting. "I won't tell a soul, but are you sure this is what you want?"

Chet shook his head. "I'm considering it, Johnny. Hell, my granddad was a motorman for 27 years. He tried passing it onto my dad but Pops fell for red engines instead. That's what I inherited."

"You're still a young guy, Kelly," Johnny focused on Chet's blue eyes. He's not kidding.

Chet and Johnny then heard sweeping footsteps coming from the dorm. Roy appeared, stretching as the two sitting at the table came into view. He saw also the milk container on the counter and frowned. "You drank the rest of it, didn't you?" His question directed at Johnny.

"There wasn't even a full glass left. We didn't have a chance to get to the store today." Johnny swallowed the last drop of evidence.

Roy glared at his partner. "A ha. And what's the occasion here?" He was good at getting to the bottom of things, and usually his intuitions were accurate. The looks Johnny and Chet gave each other proved Roy's theory that something was up.

Chet always had difficulty keeping things from Roy, whether it was a plot by The Phantom or anything in general. "Have a seat Roy."

Roy did so and looked over at the half-way filled out form. "What's this?" He reached over and slid it in his direction. "Job application? Chet?" Roy looked over with enlarging blue eyes.

Chet's eyes lowered. "I told Johnny I'm thinking of becoming a train motorman in New York."

Roy, usually the calmer one at the station aside from Mike, reeled in the shock of Chet's confession. "You're kidding, right? It's not another stunt by The Phantom?"

"I wish it were that simple. I've been putting out fires for years, practically putting my ass on the line. I'm tired, I think I need a change."

Johnny grimaced, "Roy! Tell Chet, he can't just up and leave us! He means too much here!"

Roy rubbed fatigue and confusion from his eyes. "Johnny's right, Chet. I mean, once you step into a blaze, your instincts take over and that fire's no match for you!"

Chet stood up in agitation. "Right! I take charge, I put out the fire, and we all come back here. But not before I bust my ribs, break bones, and inhale more smoke than 200 packs of cigarettes!" His voice escalated slightly.

Johnny rose from his seat and came up beside Chet. He placed a caring arm around his shoulder as Roy turned to watch. "Okay, say you go to New York and get the job. Tell me, what are you going to do all day?"

Chet broke away and collapsed on the sofa, nearly wakening Henry the station mascot. "For starters, I report to the first stop of the subway line, get into the motorman's coach and drive. There are risks involved, believe me. There are guidelines I'd need to follow. I'm responsible for carrying thousands of New Yorkers from one end of the city to the other."

"And you'd rather do that than saving lives?" Roy turned his chair around, facing Chet.

"It's a safer job that PAYS, Roy!" Chet exclaimed.

"I know our salaries aren't top dollar but we get great benefits and a retirement plan." Johnny spoke matter-of-factly as he sat between Chet and Henry.

"Retirement plan?" Chet smirked. "Hell, we came close to death so many times, would we ever see our retirement?"

That statement hit home and it made both Johnny and Roy uneasy. Roy squirmed in his seat, "If you go, we'll miss ya."

Johnny nodded, taking on a far away stare. "Same here."

"Hold on guys, nothing's definite. I didn't even finish filling out the application!" Chet couldn't believe how somber Roy and Johnny became once they heard him out. I know they always cared about me, especially Johnny, no matter how much we tease each other. Can I make the right decision?

The klaxon tones and the voice from dispatch disturbed the late night stillness.

"Station 51, structure fire, 1405 Collinswood, 1-4-0-5 Collinswood, time out 1:23."

"Right now Chet, you still belong to us and we have a fire to squash," Johnny remarked as they made their way to the bay.

Chet didn't answer but gave Johnny a look that said, "Thanks for listening." He swiftly donned the turnout gear and climbed the engine. Here we go again.

************

The engine and squad pulled up in front of a two-story house. The scene was chaotic as onlookers from across the street gazed at the burning structure. The flames were eating away at the front corridor, not yet reaching the back. Hank was the first to climb out of the cab and reach for his Handy Talkie. "Station 51 at scene."

He made his way towards a displaced family of four huddled on the curb. The younger children were coughing uncontrollably in between sobs. A devastated woman hugged them closely. Her husband spotted Hank and approached him, flailing his arms. "It started in the living room! I don't know what happened but we all got out!"

"We'll take care of it," Hank promised with determination. "Roy? Can you get some O2 here? Chet, Marco, take a line to the front. Johnny bring an inch and a half to the back!" They acknowledged his orders and did as told. Mike worked at a fevered pitch on the valves, pumping enough water for the hoses. The fire was mostly extensive on the ground floor towards the front and hadn't reached the floor above. An ambulance arrived within minutes as Roy was treating the family for smoke inhalation.

Chet placed the oxygen mask over his face and grasped the nozzle as Marco yanked the hose off its reel. Johnny took control of the other hose and dashed behind the structure. Chet and Marco quickly rushed in, spraying the flames immediately. The flames were tearing up the entrance way and living room as furniture, window curtains and family relics were ablaze. Chet adjusted the nozzle to a wider spray, terminating as much of the fire as possible. With Marco taking the rear, Chet stepped forward wetting the burning embers and dampening the ceiling and walls to prevent the fire from spreading. Amidst the smoke, Chet noticed sparks coming from behind the television. The water already touched the exposed wires, causing a pop and spark that sailed Chet and Marco backwards. They crashed onto the floor in a heap, nearly losing grip on the wayward hose.

I swear to God, why do people have to jam their fucking outlets with so many plugs! Chet detested how carelessness always led to tragedies. He was grateful he didn't step on the drenched wire or it would have been his demise as well as Marco's.

"Electrical fire! God damn it!" Chet yelled through his mask as he helped Marco up and continued spraying. With most of the flames under control, Chet shut the valve and removed his oxygen mask. He reached for his Handy Talk. Never fails, does it? Once again I stick my neck out and almost got killed for it. "51, this is HT."

Hank answered, "Go ahead HT."

"51, we contained the fire in the living room and adjoining areas but there's an exposed electrical wire. We need the power off!"

"Affirmative HT. The power company is on its way." Hank stated, placing his hands on hips, seeing the flames dying out and smoke waning.

"10-4 51." Chet's voice crackled over the radio.

"10-4 HT." Hank responded as he gave the house a look over from a distance.

Johnny extinguished cinders on the kitchen and hallway floors. He turned off his hose and walked through the kitchen to the living room. He noticed that Chet and Marco already put the flames out. He felt safe enough to approach them. "I turned off the pilot…"

"JOHNNY! STEP BACK!" Chet screamed at the top of his lungs. The loose wire, which scrambled out from behind the television, sizzled inches away from Johnny's feet. He cautiously skipped backwards. Another step forward and he would have met his Maker.

"Shit, Chet! The fire's out, isn't it?" Johnny called back, oblivious to the danger.

Chet tore off his helmet and threw down the nozzle in disgust. Marco, still holding on to the hose, answered. "There's a live wire by your foot and with the water, you'd have been toast."

Johnny looked down and saw the popping electrical cord. "Oh God," he breathed before turning around and going out the way he came.

************

Three thirty in the morning and I spent the last two hours fighting another fire! What if I hadn't been there when Johnny walked in? He didn't even look at the floor for crying out loud! I can't take this anymore…

Chet looked at himself in the mirror. Thirty two years old, not married, no children. He chose to live that way. What woman would want to marry a fireman who's never home? Roy was lucky to have a wife like Joanne but they even had their problems. What about me? Will I ever find happiness doing this?

"You saved my life, Chet," Johnny leaned against the door frame, studying Chet's actions. "Thank you."

"I just didn't feel like attending another funeral, okay?" Chet muttered. His fingernails turned gray from years of service. After washing his hands and face, he brushed past Johnny and went to where the unfinished application still lay.

The A-shift had once again tried to find solace in sleep, something Chet gave up hours ago. Johnny, who also couldn't persuade his body to rest, followed sounds of movement coming from the rec room. He stepped inside to find Chet filling out the rest of his application.

************

The searing pain at his throbbing temples added more to the frustration. The sealed envelope was in his pocket, already stamped and ready to go. Johnny hardly said two words to him, mainly out of disappointment. Roy pondered on the uneasiness between them and presumed Chet already made his decision.

Chet lay back on his bunk, staring upward at the bland ceiling. The C-shift was would be relieving them shortly, but somehow, Chet didn't feel like going home. He closed his eyes, only to open them again instinctively. Roy was hovering over him. "Johnny left without saying a word, but I know what the deal was."

"It's time, Roy." Chet turned his head off to the side. "As soon as I leave here, I'm dropping the application in the mail."

"Chet…"

"Roy, I don't want to hear it," Chet declared. "My mind's made up."

"Fine, go and tell Cap before he leaves," Roy dared the younger firefighter. "If you're ready to make that move, leave right now. Get Cap to call HQ and put in your resignation."

Not believing the cruelty in Roy's voice, Chet sat up quickly. "What's with you? I'm not telling Cap yet, it's too soon."

"You've already signed, sealed and about to deliver the application. Get it over and done with! Throw away probably the only thing that has meant the most to you!"

Chet jumped up, pointing an accusing finger. "Go to hell, Roy! You don't know what shit means to me. I've had it! I put out fires - that's all I fucking do."

"No it isn't, and you know it." Roy was quick to correct his fellow fireman. "What about the people you save? Remember that guy who tied himself to a rope and his kid tied the other end to a car?"

"Yeah, his wife started driving away and the guy crashed into a tree." Chet sank back down on his bulk.

"And what about the woman who was giving birth? I had a hard ass time getting her mother to calm down, but you and the guys stuck around, making sure nothing went wrong!" Roy only raised his voice when necessary and in this instance, he wanted his statements clear.

Chet buried his face in his hands and sighed deeply. "There will always be other firemen after me, just as there were those before."

Roy needed the one thing to make Chet see what he refused to. He sat directly next to him. "Two weeks ago, Chet, I nearly lost my partner and best friend when he and those two workers were trapped in that tunnel. I was scared to death Chet, especially when we lost contact."

Chet remembered how, in the darkness of night, it was touch and go. Oxygen was wearing thin as a collapse completely sealed off the ventilation pipe. He swallowed hard. "But we got them out, didn't we?"

Roy's eyes misted as he recollected those moments when not hearing Johnny's voice spelled absolute doom. "Yes we did. But it was Marco, Cap, myself, and YOU."

Chet fixed his eyes to the floor. Was becoming a motorman really that important? Hell, he had a few good years left before retirement. By then, he could apply for a motorman position with the LA transit system. I can't let these guys down. How selfish can I be? My home's here, my livelihood is here, and I love what I do.

"Do whatever you think is best. I'm going home," Roy said as he rose from the bunk, patting Chet on the shoulder. "I said my peace." He carried a load of remorse in every step of his walk.

"Roy?"

Focusing his blue eyes on Chet, Roy paused. "Yeah?"

"I-I-need to go home and think things over," Chet's voice quavered.

"Well, whatever you do, you have my support." Roy left the room, hoping what he said would steer Chet in the right direction.

************

The A-shirt started up again 24 hours later. Talk was casual, glances were cool. Hank, Marco and Mike noticed a change in Chet since the prior evening. An uncertainty covered his usually comical and outgoing personality. Roy and Johnny made small talk with Chet but were holding something back. As if all efforts couldn't change things.

Roy and Johnny were tuning up the squad while Marco and Mike polished the engine. "Roy? Did you talk to Chet?" Johnny looked over at his partner, turning a greasy wrench.

"As best as I could. I can't tell what he's planning to do, but I tried," Roy said honestly.

"Where's he now?" John asked with a sweeping motion with his hand.

"Said he had some thinking to do," Roy bit down on his lower lip.

Chet stepped out from the locker room, making an announcement. "Guys? While it's a little quiet now, I brought the souvenirs from New York City."

Marco tooted from behind the engine. "All right! I have to see these goodies!"

As they formed a line to enter the lounge, Chet stopped at Hank's office. "Cap, do you have a minute?"

"Sure Kelly, what's up?"

"If you'd like to join us, I brought some gifts from New York," Chet answered, holding what appeared to be a brown canvas bag.

"Since nothing's going on, let's go." He rose from his desk and allowed Chet to lead the way. Everyone took a seat except Chet who remained standing. He began, "New York City was a terrific place. It's full of life, commotion, opportunities…"

"…loud noise, crime, nasty cab drivers, garbage," Johnny interrupted wearing a sly grin that Chet didn't think was amusing.

He continued, "Times Square was right up your alley, Gage. With all the hookers, you'd feel right at home." Touché.

Johnny inhaled sharply as he stammered. "Hey! What? Huh?"

"As I was saying, my two weeks in The Big Apple were exciting, and I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. So I'm bringing the New York experience back to you." Chet reached into the opened canvas bag and pulled out a miniature replica of The Empire State Building. "For you Roy, cause your favorite flick is 'King Kong.'"

Roy took the weighty, copper die-cast, "It's heavy enough for a paperweight! Thanks Chet."

Chet then pulled out a white T-shirt with the Brooklyn Dodgers emblem printed on the front. "Stoker, I couldn't find you the baseball cap so I got you the next best thing."

Mike accepted the T-shirt with glee. "Oh wow! This is great, thanks Chet."

Chet dove into the bag and pulled out a fake New York City Police Department badge. "Marco, I know that 'Kojak' is your favorite TV show. It's filmed on location in New York City but since I didn't know where, I got you this."

Marco inspected the phony badge, "Chet, you son of a gun, it looks like the real thing! Thanks buddy!"

All there was left was Hank and Johnny. Chet spotted another item in his bag. "Cap, we all know you make the finest clam chowder at 51's." He pulled out a glass jar filled with rich soup. "But you haven't had 'Howard Johnson's' Manhattan Clam Chowder." He passed it to Hank. "Enjoy it, Cap."

"Are you serious, you twit?" Is this fresh?" Hank teased.

"They vacuum seal their perishables! I got it from a deli." Chet said good naturedly as the room filled with light laughter. "Well, that's it for now…"

"Wait, Chet!" Johnny looked up. Even though he had the replica subway car, Chet did promise the Statue of Liberty. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

"Oh Gage! Lady Liberty!" You know something?" Chet began as he dove into his canvas bag. "There were so many Liberty stuff around that I wanted to pick the best one."

He passed Johnny a plastic covered sheet. It was green colored and smelled rubbery. Johnny took a whiff and glared at Chet, "What is this?"

"It's the Statue of Liberty, Gage. The blow up kind!"

"You brought me a blow-up DOLL?" Johnny hissed through clenched teeth.

Chet smiled admirably. "Gage, she can give you liberty or give you death."

Johnny shrugged his shoulders, "Cute Chet, really cute."

"And I won't be going back to New York again until my next vacation. My cousin promised to take me to a few Broadway shows," Chet declared happily.

Johnny asked as he looked from Roy to Chet, "You mean that?"

Guys, I could never leave this nutty place. I'd be miserable without my buddies. I'll miss the kind of work that I do - saving lives and helping others.

"Of course! What did you think? I would actually move to New York?"

Roy nearly stumbled over his words. "I thought New York was the place to be."

Johnny, fidgeting with the tightly packed gift from Chet, put his two cents in. "And what about the subways?"

Chet nodded appreciatively. "LA is constructing a new subway as we speak. I want to stick around when it opens. It may not be New York in 1904, but it'll be historical to say the least."

Roy beamed, "Glad to hear that!"

Chet nearly shuddered at the thought of nasty cab drivers and crowded city streets, "New York's a nice place to visit but NOT to live in."

THE END