This boy in my class dressed up as a firefighter for Halloween. It was a cool enough costume, I guess, just store-bought. I was a cat. I like cats.
I’d never really talked to the boy before, although he was in my class. He seemed nice, I guess. It wasn’t that he was antisocial or anything, or that I was, but he was a boy, and back then boys had cooties. We just never really played together. I think he played a lot with the more popular boys, although he was more on the outskirts of the pack. They used to play four square. My friends and I used to play cats. I like cats.
Anyway, he was a firefighter for Halloween, which was nice enough. Nothing special, but definitely an effort. This one kid dressed up as a castle. She won our costume contest. Everyone was too busy admiring her sparkly pink turrets to notice the firefighter. I have to admit, I was pretty distracted. That castle really was the cat’s meow!
The next day though, was something else. Nobody dressed up as castles, or even cats, but in the back of the classroom, at table number 3, was a firefighter.
I was confused. Everyone was confused. Nobody could focus on learning their ABCs with a firefighter in the room, so our teacher called him out into the hall to talk to him. We all giggled to each other about that. It was funny when somebody was called out to the hall. That meant they’d been naughty and they were going to get in trouble! Some of the nosy kids got out of their chairs and peeked their heads around to listen at the door. I got up too, but I wasn’t one of the usual nosy kids. It was just so odd, for a kid to dress like that when it wasn’t Halloween! I just had to know.
I guess those kids always made up what they heard at that door, because it was thick enough that I didn’t hear anything, apart from the footsteps of my teacher when she was heading back into the classroom, which of course sent us all scampering back to our little blue chairs. We all watched avidly as the teacher and the firefighter entered, like some weird little career day procession, but neither of them said anything, and the little boy went back to his table and sat down, and the teacher merely apologized briefly before continuing with her ordinary lesson plans.
We all stared at the firefighter, although we pretended we weren’t staring, but he didn’t say anything to us. The rest of the day proceeded as usual. I finally gave up on figuring out why the little boy was dressed as a firefighter and put it down to forgetting that Halloween was over, or being an attention seeker, although it didn’t really seem like him to try to get attention like that. I went home like usual, had a glass of chocolate milk, and fed my goldfish, just like always. I named my goldfish Cat, because I wished he was a cat instead of a boring fish. I liked cats.
The next day, when we all lined up to go into class, the little boy was still dressed as a firefighter. We all turned to the teacher, wondering what she would say to him, but she only gave him a special smile and a small pat on the back before leading us all in. We waited all day, but once again, no explanation was given and nothing else was at all out of the ordinary, just a random firefighter, sitting in our AM kindergarten class.
The third day after Halloween, the little boy was still a firefighter. On recess, some of the other boys started picking on him because they wanted to know why. The little boy was annoyed and he went and sat on the bench on the edge of the playground on his own. I wondered if maybe he just liked being a firefighter, and that bugged me. My mommy never let me go to school in my dress-up clothes. When I wanted to go as a doctor, she had told me “No,” and given me a pair of shorts and a ruffled t-shirt to wear instead. She never let me take my stuffed cat to school either.
The next day, the little boy who dressed as a firefighter sat down on the bench all alone again, and I felt kind of sorry for him. I didn’t even care that he was a firefighter anymore; I just wanted him to be happy. I decided to go and tell him that, so I left my friends, who were playing cats, and walked over to sit on the bench next to him. He looked a little bit surprised, and then he frowned at me.
“You’re going to ask me why I’m a firefighter, aren’t you?”
I thought for a moment, and then shook my head. “Not if you don’t want to tell me. You just looked sad. I don’t want you to be sad. You can come and play cats with us, if you want.”
He stared at me for a minute, and then smiled, and took my hand, and we stood up. “I guess I’d like that,” he said.
“Playing cats is fun,” I agreed, and I began leading the way to our usual part of the playground when he suddenly stopped me.
“If you really wanna know why I’m a firefighter,” he said shyly, “I guess I can tell you.”
“If you wanna tell me,” I replied, unsure if he would go back to sit on the bench again. I didn’t want him to be sad.
“I…” he said, hesitantly, “I think I do. I’m ready to tell somebody now.”
“Okay,” I said, rocking back and forth on my heels, “Why are you a firefighter, then?”
He thought for a moment, and then said, “I’m a firefighter, because I need to scare all of the fires away.”
I was surprised. I hadn’t thought of that. “Why?” I asked, “Why do you need to scare the fires away?”
“I need to scare the fires away,” he said, “Because on Halloween, I wasn’t fast enough.”
I frowned, and cocked my head in confusion. “You weren’t… fast enough?”
He nodded. “Periwinkle was still in the house when the fire came, and I still wasn’t a firefighter. Periwinkle is my cat.”
I thought about that for a moment, and frowned again. “A fire came? When?”
“On Halloween,” the little firefighter explained, “I dressed as a firefighter but there was a real fire. I saw it first and told my mommy and daddy and they called some real firefighters. One of them told me that they were lucky I was a firefighter that day, because I was a true hero.”
“Oh,” I said, “That’s nice. I’m glad you were a hero.”
“But I wasn’t fast enough,” he said, sadly. “I didn’t get my costume on fast enough, and they couldn’t get Periwinkle’s room open in time and she never came out.”
“Oh,” I said, quietly.
“So now,” the boy continued, “I will always be ready, ‘cause I will be dressed up as a firefighter every day, to scare all of the fires away!” Then, he looked down at his shoes. “I want to save the Periwinkles,” he said, “So I always have to be a firefighter, from now on!”
I looked at him for a long time, and then I said, “That’s really brave.”
He looked surprised. “It is?”
I nodded shyly. “Yeah. But… I don’t think you need to dress as a firefighter to be a hero.”
He frowned. “But I wasn’t dressed fast enough, and Periwinkle is gone.”
“I know,” I said, “I’m sorry about your cat.”
There was silence for a moment, and then I said, “I had a cat too, but he died last year. His name was Muffin.”
“Was there a fire?” the little boy asked.
I shook my head. “No, he ate a bad plant, but he died, all the same.”
“Oh,” he said.
It was quiet again.
“I think,” I finally said, “Sometimes things happen, and you just can’t stop them, even if you are a doctor, or a firefighter.”
The little boy thought for a moment, and then he nervously said, “It’s hot outside, will you put my coat on that wall?” and he took off his firefighter coat, and handed it to me.
I smiled, and told him, “Maybe we should set it over by us, just in case. Come on, let’s play cats!”
He smiled back at me, and I knew he was relieved. We ran off to go play cats, and had a lot of fun.
Three school days later, the little boy came to school and he was not dressed as a firefighter anymore. It was a show and tell day, and he brought a picture of his cat. I came dressed as a doctor.
It has been many years now, and I still know that boy. He is a man now, and he has grown into a real, full-sized fireman’s outfit. He has three cats now, and one son, who wants to be a veterinarian, just like his mommy.

Impressive, and so sweet. I loved it. Great work here.