Ask Not

 

Early morning, sun just boiling its way through dirty cotton clouds of grey.

Walking the Mackster, clad in reindeer robe and knock-off crocs, chatting with my brother far away.

When the whistle blew down at the firehouse in town. 

It sounded urgent and scary and like mothers do I catalogued the locations of offspring and loved ones. As far as I knew everyone was in a safe place, so I said a small prayer for whomever the bell was tolling and went back to chatting.

Went inside, made coffee, and was stuffing my pockets full of the detritus of a woman who was raised with Boy Scouts and needs to be prepared at all times. Plus a mask, which is a relatively recent addition to the Swiss army knife, shepherd's whistle, hair clip, etc.

When Mack started alarming.

It wasn't the frantic BARK!! BARK!! BARK!!! that signifies the arrival of the dreaded Ren...he is terrified of her and lets us know whenever she is on the prowl.

Nope it was the "KATIE BAR THE DOOR"  bark that indicates someone outside.

I shushed the little beggar (hopefully without unnecessary profanity) and told him, "There's no one there you fool."

Then I looked out the kitchen window.

Well, who's the fool now! It was a volunteer fireman and a state trooper (!!!!!)

Someone had reported smoke coming down the hill from here. I assured them that I had just gone in the house and was in the yard when the whistle blew and if there was smoke I would have seen it.

Not sure they believed me, but I told them I was sorry they were called out for nothing and they went on their way. I surely hope it was just a mistake and that one of our neighbors isn't facing something bad. When you live in a small town live this even people whom you don't know are neighbors and you worry about them. 

And boy, oh, boy, am I ever glad that I was dressed in something other than a ratty old green reindeer bathrobe when the neighbors who watch over us and keep us safe showed up.