Slow Burn, Chapter 2/21

CHAPTER TWO

“So what’s your name?” Dina asked as she settled into the chair next to the young paramedic.  The latter looked profoundly nervous.

“Um…Virginia.  Virginia Custis.”

“Okay, Ginny…can I call you Ginny?” Dina asked, trying to put the girl at ease.

Virginia smiled shyly.  “If you like.”  Her eyes kept pivoting between Dina and the camera, which Nick was operating off to the side.  “Should I look at you, or…?”

“Just look at me,” Dina said in a steadying tone.  After its low ebb in the firehouse vestibule, some of her patience was returning.  “How old are you, Ginny?”

“I’ll be nineteen in February.”  The girl reached up and started anxiously teasing her shoulder-length chestnut hair.  In doing so she brushed against her lapel mic, which crackled loudly.  All three of them jumped at the sound, and Virginia fiddled frantically with the apparatus before accidentally knocking it to the floor.  “Jeez!  I’m sorry!”  She bit her lip, and her brown eyes welled slightly.

Dina placed a reassuring hand on the girl’s knee as she bent forward to retrieve the microphone.  “It’s okay.”  She gently reaffixed it to the collar of Virginia’s short-sleeve white button down.  She sought and finally found the girl’s downcast eyes.  “This isn’t live – remote transmitter’s in the van – so we’ll cut the film later.  It will be like it never happened.  And that was far from the worst mic flub I’ve seen.”

Virginia looked up.  “Really?”

Dina smiled. “Really.  There was this time I was doing some spots for local color at a town fair.  I was interviewing one of the entrants in the hot dog eating contest.  Big guy.  Well, they blew the start whistle, and…”  She pantomimed and made a chomping sound.  A smile crept onto Virginia’s lips.  “Whole kit went right down the hatch.  Believe me, you did not want to listen to that particular recording.”

The girl laughed, then touched her hand to her lips, self-consciousness fragmenting now.  “Did you ever…you know…get it back?”

“Let’s just say that KABC has a very dedicated equipment manager,” Dina related as Virginia giggled.  “”But enough about me,” Dina continued. “Almost nineteen, huh?”  The girl nodded.  "Bit young to be a paramedic, don’t you think?  Have you been volunteering for long?”

The girl looked at Dina squarely, eyes suddenly intense.  “Never too young to help people, ma’am.  I’ve been doing first aid one way or another since Girl Scouts.”

“I see,” Dina nodded.  Glad I finally got her talking!  “Can you expand on that?”

The girl’s voice softened again.  “I’ve only been certified for about six months, but it’s been wonderful.”  She flashed a winning smile.  “I’m learning every day.”


* * *


Grady peered up and down Paradiso Street; there was surprisingly little traffic for this time of the morning, and few pedestrians as well.  Fine by me.  The fewer people see us, the better.

He signaled Ybarra and Pullman, who waited in the alley behind him with black bags at the ready.  They moved up quickly.

“You sure that’s everything?” he asked Pullman, pointing to the bags.  The tall man nodded.

“Okay then – let’s get across.  We’ve got ten minutes to jump-off.  Stick to the plan, and no one will get hurt who doesn’t have to.”


* * *


“And how did you end up in the business of firefighting?”  Now Dina was staring across the table in the kitchenette-turned-interview-room at twenty-four-year-old Antonia Ford.

“It’s the family trade,” said the tall auburn-haired girl.  “My dad, my brothers, heck, even a couple of great uncles.  All firefighters.  And a lot of the women, too – like my mom – though they all work in admin or dispatch.”

Dina crossed her legs and leaned forward.  “But admin work wasn’t for you.”

“Heck no!  I mean, there’s no shame in it.  But I was born to be at the front, where the fire is hottest.”  Her hazel eyes sparkled.  “I’ve always known that.”  Then she laughed.  “And I can keep up with the best of the men, no question.  You can ask my brothers about that sometime.  They’ve had enough bruises from me to prove it!”

Dina smiled congenially.  “I have no doubt.”  She glanced down at her notes.  “Now, Antonia – a couple of the others that we’ve talked to are volunteering with the department while working on their degrees.  Does that go for you as well?”

The girl’s eyes narrowed.  “No friggin’ way.  I’m not one of those limp-wristed college girls, and I’m definitely no pantywaist volunteer.  I’m a professional.  Academy-trained, through and through.”

Dina cocked her head.  “I’m not sure I understand.”

Antonia scooted forward in her chair, leaning in conspiratorially.  “Look, here’s what you gotta understand.  Firefighting started as an all-volunteer gig way back.  And the volunteers nowadays can be okay…some of them.  Giving up their free time, getting paid little or nothing…it’s all real noble.”  She made a face.  “But we’ve evolved.  There’s so much training to be done, so much specializing and certifying…it takes full-timers.  Professionals.  We’re the backbone of firefighting now.  Don’t let anybody tell you different.”  Antonia leaned back into her chair again.  “Captain Hawkins is an Academy grad herself, I’m sure she’d agree with me.”

“Do you know the captain personally?”  Dina quickly switched gears.  Internal discord didn’t exactly fit the story she was shaping in her head, and she was eager to steer Antonia away from further rants.

“Only by reputation.  But–” Antonia halted herself for a moment, considering her words before continuing.  “Look, I know this sounds cheesy.  But I feel like I know her.  When she filed those public charges against Chief Grady and the rest…I can tell you every firewoman in L.A. felt like she was fighting for each of us, personally.”

There we go.  Dina warmed to the topic.    “Tell me more.”

“Look, not every fireman is a creep.  There’s plenty of good ones, like my folks.  But women only make up three percent of the LAFD.  That leaves a lot of room for assholes in the other 97 percent.”  She frowned.  “Can I say assholes?”

Dina smirked a little; it was a common question.  “No, but go ahead – we’ll splice it later.”

Antonia continued.  “So there’s a lot of ‘bad eggs.’  And I can tell you every woman in the department has dealt with harassment at one point or another.  It’s so…so…”  She struggled to articulate.  “Entrenched!  The bad ones reinforce each other.  I had a girl from my class who resigned and moved out of the city, it got so awful for her.  Made it hard to feel safe in your own workplace.”  The girl grimaced.

Dina pressed the matter.  “Do you feel like firing and forfeiting of pensions was enough punishment for Chief Grady and the others?”

“Hell no.  Grady was the worst, because he encouraged it, and covered it up to boot!  He at least should have gotten some prison time or something.”  Antonia sighed.  “But at least the city had the good sense to kick him and his posse out.”  She smiled.  “They can’t do anything to hurt us anymore.”