“Well, I tell you what Nicky, why don’t you finish your chocolate and then you and I can take a ride into town and we will look for your dad and Crystal.”  He smiled as Jake poured him a cup of coffee.

“Can we find my Mommy too?  I miss her.”

“We can sure try, son.  But I need to know her whole name and her address.  Do you know where she lives”

“4223 Maple Drive.”

“Great!  And what town?”

“Springfield.”

“Oh, which Springfield?”

Nicky shrugged and sipped his hot chocolate.  Tom looked at Jake and shook his head.  “Well, it’s a start.  There’s a whole lot of towns named Springfield in this country.  Well, finish up your hot chocolate Nicky and let’s go into town and try to find your Mama.”

** *** **

The Sheriff’s office buzzed with activity as the three of them walked through the door.  Nicky clung tightly to Jake’s calloused hand. 

“Oh, hey Sheriff, I was fixing to call you.” Said Deputy Smith.  “We got a couple of dead bodies out by the RV park.”

Tom drew his hand across his throat, a movement to silence the deputy.  Then he pointed to Nicky.  “Um son, why don’t you go with Deputy Henderson over there and she will help you look for your mama.  Susan, this young man’s name is Nicky he is from Springfield.  He knows the address, but not the state.  Now Deputy Smith, come into my office and tell me all about what you found.”

Nicky pulled on Jake’s hand and dragged him over to Deputy Henderson’s desk.  While she questioned the boy, Tom talked with his other deputy about the murdered couple.  The detectives had found a large quantity of cocaine at the scene.  The pair had been identified as Frank Harris and Crystal Simpson and the signs of a struggle indicated a drug deal gone bad.

With his father dead, the boy needed a place to stay until they could find his mother.  Tom hated the idea of putting Nicky with Social Services; they were always so backed up and it might be several days before a suitable foster family could be found to take him.  He looked around the room, and hit upon a plan.  Since Nicky and Jake had formed an attachment, and his old friend had begun to care about someone again, the ideal situation was would be Jake to take the boy for a few days.

“I can’t do that!” Jake exclaimed.

“Would you rather he went to Social Services?”

“Well, no.  But can’t you take him?”

“You saved his life and you already have a connection with him.  He trusts you.”

“But I’m not set up to take care of a child.”

“It shouldn’t be more than a few days.  There’s a whole lot of Springfields to go through.  We’ll check each one to see if a small boy has been reported missing.  Don’t you think that little guy will be better off with you than in the Safe House Orphanage?”

“Um, well, I guess it would be alright for a day or two.  But what if you can’t find his mother?”

“Well, then I guess we will have to move on to plan ‘B’.”

“Plan ‘B’ huh.  Okay well I’d better take Nicky and buy him some more clothes if he is going to stay for a while. “

They walked across the square Whittle’s Mercantile, the local general store.  As they opened the door Margaret Whittle, the owner, approached them.

“Hello Jake, who’s you friend?”

“Um. his name is Nicky and he is staying with me for a few days.  I need some clothes for him.  I don’t know the size.’

“Well,” she replied.  “Let’s start with a size 4 and go from there.  It’s nice to have company for a while, isn’t it Jake.”

The old man shrugged, and then secretly smiled to himself.

On this morning an irritating noise broke the stillness.  He looked up in time to see a wave runner careening wildly.  As the craft drew closer, to his horror, Jake spied a small child, about 4 years old, clinging to the driver of the PWC.  The wave runner made another quick turn; the child lost his grip and tumbled into the water.  Unaware of his loss, the man sped away.

Jake pulled off his boots and dove into the water after the boy.  He moved with the swift steady strokes he had developed through years of competitive swimming.  Within moments he had reached the child, who bobbed up and down in his life vest.

“It’s okay son, I’ve got you.”  Jake secured his big hand around the boy’s chest.  “I’m going to take you to shore.  You’re going to be fine.”

“Daddeeeeee!”  the boy screamed.  “Daddy come back.”

“Just relax son, and let me swim for both of us.  It will be easier to get you back on dry land.”

Moments later the pair arrived back on the shore.  Jake picked the child up.  He carried him into his house and sat him down in the kitchen.  He grabbed a blanket from his bed and wrapped it around the child’s shivering shoulders.

“My name’s Jake Colver.  What’s yours?”

“Nicky.” The boy sniffed.  “Where’s my Daddy?  Where’s my Mommy?  I want my Mommy.”

“Tell you what Nicky, do you like hot chocolate?”

The child nodded and a slight smile crossed his lips.  “With little marshmallows?”

“Always,”  Jake smiled.  “Why don’t you go into the bathroom and dry off.  I’ve got some old clothes that my boys outgrew.  They will be kind of big but at least they are dry.  I’ll be right back.”

After he had changed, Nicky wandered over to the fireplace and poked the flames.  He looked around the room then turned his gaze toward Jake.  The old man sat on a stool next to the wall phone.  He spoke in low tones to someone on the other end. 

A few minutes later the whistle of the tea kettle let them know that the water was ready to create hot chocolate.  Nicky came over to the table as Jake set down two steaming mugs.  “So, young man, how many marshmallows do you want?”

“Ten.”

“Ten it is.”

Just then a car pulled into Jake’s driveway.  A moment later a heavy hand knock on the door.  Tom Bresler, the county sheriff stepped into Jakes kitchen.

“Nicky, this is Sheriff Bresler.  He’s going to help you find your folks.”

“Hi, Nicky.  Do you know your last name?”

The child smiled, “Harris.”

“Do you know your dad’s first name?”

“Daddy.”

“Daddy.”  Tom shook his head.  “Do you know where your daddy lives?” 

“He lives in a RV.  He goes all over.”

“What about your mommy.  Do you know her name?”

“Daddy called her Mare.  She doesn’t live with us.  I lived with her and Bill, then Daddy came and took me away.  I miss my mommy.”

“Do you know the name of the town she lives in?”  Tom sat down next to Nicky.  “It would be a big help if you could tell us about her.”

She was singing and dancing about a happy place, and, her bright white smile reflected her special grace.  Her grace, that out of nowhere came, brightened the lives of many that day.  The children began to dance with her, and, in a very short while they too sang her plan.  The ball laid still as the energy moved from following the ball to dancing freely about.   About the time, once boring, following a bouncing ball, now, seemed unimportant because a child’s thought took form.   Forms can come in, when we feel cast out, and, focus on what we know we can do, and, that which we want.  Wants are not wrong they bring purpose to life.  Life is meant to be happy and booming.  So, the next time the ball doesn’t come to you, focus to see where your thoughts are looming.  Looming thoughts can propel you into to a better place if you simply allow your child to follow grace. 

Grace warms the heart of the giver and the receiver.  There isn’t a material possession that can add such quiver.   Quiver your energy into who you want to become.  Become full of love like that darling dancer.  Dance into the day simply rest at night, and, begin refreshed knowing who you have become.  You deserve to be happy and prosper.  If not that, then, what are you after?  Is it an afterlife, that you may never know, which allows you to stuff hope? 

Be like the tiny dancer who knows that her heart, feet, and mind took her places no one else can go.   Be happy and prosper as you dance away, into a glorious place only you can create.  As the ball you were following, becomes still, you melt into love and grace.  Be still long enough to let pure beauty rise to make your day.

Sat Dec. 5th at 2:10

or

Sat Dec 12th at 5:00

Both on channel 19!!

We’re talking the kind of deep inner passion that makes you want to jump out of bed in the morning and get going!

The kind of feeling we all experienced as a child when we couldn’t wait for morning to come so we could get downstairs to see what was waiting for us under the christmas tree! (even if you don’t observe xmas, you know what I am talking about)

Sadly, most all human misery can be traced to this fact not being widely recognized and emphasized!

If you aren’t doing something creative that truly gets your blood flowing, you are tragically missing out on the very reason for being alive!

There is a great analogy in the field of firefighting.

When firefighters respond to a building fire they know that in order to efficiently put out the fire they have to find the “seat of the fire.”

The “seat of the fire” is the location of it’s origin, the source of the fire, the spot where everything started, the core if you will.

They must work their way through and over obstacles, persisting in finding their way through all the smoke and heat in order to reach the spot where they can then deliver their water right to the source

Then, and only then, will they have accomplished their purpose and extinguished the fire at it’s root.

This is an almost identical process we must all go through if we are to discover the “seat of our own fire” which exists inside every individual and then we will truly achieve our own deep inner purpose.

And when a person makes the discovery of their own “friday night essence”, it isn’t better than sex, just different!

So get out their and strive with all of your alacrity to discover the “seat of your own fire”!

And don’t ever give up!

® JP Baker 2009

(partial excerpt from the forthcoming book: Fire Fighters are Cool…and so can you?)