Embers

 
      
 Chapter 1.
Grandfather’s glasses
 
Frankie stared into the fire, picking up a metal pole he gave a burning log a bit of poke, as the sparks flew up into the clear dark sky he followed them, craning his neck up till they blinked out,With a bemused look, he glanced at his Grandad sat next to him, why he was sat out in his garden this late on a crisp October night with Grandad he wasn’t too sure, all he knew was the usually quiet old gentleman, asked Frankie if he would like to see something different. Now here they were watching a small bonfire. Frankie didn’t see what was so special about these events but he was enjoying the fire.
His grandad sat next to him, smiling a sad little smile. As Frankie laughed at the sparks rising high up above their heads to disappear into the starlit sky, the old man leant over picking up a tatty old leather case. Taking off his glasses, carefully laying them on the ground his arthritic fingers fumbled with a small clasp on the top of the leather case. Eventually opening the weather beaten case he removed a pair of spectacles, with trembling hands he placed them on his face, picking up a log from the ground he dropped it onto the glowing bed of burning embers. As the wood hit the embers, a cascade of sparks flew up into the sky. Frankie watched them enthralled by their flight, then he noticed his grandad. following the sparks up into the air, with a rapturous smile on his face. As the sparks cooled to fall as small bits of ash to the ground, his Grandad looked back down towards the fire, Frankie with a gasp saw he was wearing the blackest pair of glasses he had ever seen, as the glow of the fire hit the lenses, they gave off no reflection. Instead they seemed to suck all the light in. For a second Frankie thought his Grandad’s eyes had been ripped out of their sockets and Frankie was just staring into the black voids left behind. It was with some relief to him when the old man took off the frighteningly dark spectacles. Fumbling about on the ground finding his normal glasses, putting them on, smiling contentedly at the fire.
With a frown Frankie couldn’t hold his tongue any longer. “Grandad, what are those other glasses? Why wear them to watch the fire?”
Playing idly with a stick in the earth. The old man seemed to ignore the question. Just as Frankie was about to ask again, the old man, still scratching about in the earth with his stick answered. “It's not the fire Frankie, it's the fire nymphs I was watching.” With that he stood and rubbing his arthritic legs to get them moving he stooped down to pick up the old leather case and the dark spectacles. “Come on little man your dad will start fretting soon if we don’t get you in doors, I promised him we would be back in before your bedtime” 
Frankie didn’t want to let it go, he had been promised something special and really all he had seen was a bonfire. “What do you mean fire nymphs? Do you mean the sparks from the fire?”
The old man stared out towards the house, he seemed to be lost in thought, he looked down at the dark spectacles grasped in his gnarly fingers then looked at the rather indignant expression on his fair haired grandson. Narrowing his eyes slightly he seemed to reach a decision. “Well I suppose we can stay out for a little longer. Your dad said no later than nine as you have school tomorrow”. Shining a torch on to his old wrist watch he saw it was eight thirty. “Ok Frankie, sit back down and I’ll tell you what I meant by fire nymphs, and why I wore these.” Shaking the glasses in his hand, he slowly lowered himself back down onto the garden chair. As they both settled back down, Grandad threw another log on the dying embers to keep it going. Playing with the dark glasses and the case he stared intently at the fire, not wanting to rush his Grandad, Frankie also watched the flames in silence. 
Giving the burning log a small experimental poke seemingly happy with it the old man turned his full attention to Frankie, in a firm voice he instructed. “Ok Frankie when I tell you please give that burning log in the middle of the fire a whack with that long stick, don’t get too close though”.
The old man took his glasses off and replaced them with the frightening dark spectacles. Frankie gasped as his Grandad's eyes once again became two small blackholes sucking in all the light around. “Ok Frankie now”.
Frankie gave the burning log a fierce poke with the stick releasing a plume of sparks into the air. He heard grandad let out a small cry of pleasure as once again the night air filled with glowing embers. Frankie noticed as his grandad tilted his head up he put his hands up to the left arm of the spectacles. 
Taking the black spectacles off and replacing them with his own he handed over the spectacles to Frankie.
“ Listen carefully, before we go any further, what you are about to see will change your life forever. Those spectacles you are holding will show you things mere mortal men should not witness, you will get a glimpse of a world hidden from our sight. I’m sorry if that all sounds melodramatic but believe me, it’s the truth.” 
Pausing, Frankie’s Grandad looked hard at the little boy. Thinking this could be a big mistake, but what choices do I have? My time is nearly up. Deciding he must continue he carried on his instructions. 
“Ok now you're suitably worried, let me reassure you, if handled properly these spectacles will give you years of happiness. Now before you put them on, run your finger over the left arm of the glasses, Do you feel that little knob? Ok when you see the dancing nymphs, lightly run your finger over that knob it will make the lenses contract, zooming in on the little wonders. Ok place them on now”
Frankie with some trepidation put on the glasses. The whole world went black. “Grandad they must be broke or I’m doing something wrong, it's completely black, I can’t see anything”. 
“No that’s right, they block out all of the world. Remember what I told you earlier, you are about to see something that’s not supposed to be seen in our normal world. Now if you move your head towards the bonfire, you will feel the heat so you know you're looking the right way. When directly looking at the fire you will notice a glow, when your ready, give me the thumbs up and I’ll give the fire a small poke, and well tell me afterwards what you saw”
Frankie did as hc was instructed, moving until he could feel the heat of the fire on his face, then he saw the glow. He was expecting the usual orange glow of a fire but what he saw was more transparent, ethereal looking, quite eerie. He gave a thumbs up sign whilst staring at the small white glow, suddenly the whole ethereal glow shimmered, became a bright white light, then out of the top flew brightly coloured shapes, just a few but they flew up into the air at some speed. Remembering his Grandads instructions about the zoom button on the glasses arm, he pressed it and suddenly with a gasp for a fleeting second he saw the shapes coalesce into small creatures, as they writhed and spun together till they suddenly turned white and drifted apart to fall away into the darkness. Taking the glasses off he looked over at Grandad, shaking his head. “What was that Grandad? They were people, dancing, moving together. They seemed so happy and I felt really happy as well. I don’t understand”
“I will tell you everything soon but first put them on again, this time I’ll send a big plume of nymphs up, try to focus on just a few and watch what they do in the big crowd”
With no trepidation this time Frankie put on the glasses, focused onto the eerie white light of the ethereal fire then raised his thumb up. This time the whole fire became a bright shimmering mass of white light, the whole shook then split open as hundreds of coloured shapes raised up into the blackness above, concentrating Frankie again pressed the zoom button picking a group to zoom in on. As he watched them, time seemed to slow as he saw them spinning around holding hands, flipping each other over then connecting onto others just dancing and gyrating together, the pure joy of what they were doing filled his little heart. Never had he felt such happiness as he did right then. Grinning like an idiot he took off the glasses again, breathing hard. “Oh gosh Grandad they are wonderful”, Frankie tried hard to articulate how he felt when the nymphs danced in front of his face. Being only eight he couldn’t tell his Grandad exactly the elation he felt. “Why Doesn't everyone know about this? The glasses would make you rich, everyone would want a pair, we would be millionaires!”
Frowning, the old man took the spectacles off Frankie. Shaking his white haired head and giving Frankie a look which was a mixture of pity and anger.
“No no Frankie, these are not for public use. Imagine a world where everyone was enthralled by the fire nymphs? The world would burn purely for the entertainment of the masses. My Grandad was someone who believed the embers from a fire movement defied explanation, they broke the laws of thermodynamics, uhmm that’s how things should move if heated up. No one knows how he came up with the spectacles, my dad thinks he sold his soul to the devil! I don’t know the truth. I remember him as a genius, well ahead of his time but obsessed with the weird and wonderful. To be frank he was quite scary.Anyway he told my dad on his deathbed about the spectacles warning him what would happen if the world got hold of them and replicated them for the general public to buy. Dad thought he was just a crazy old coot at that point. That was until he tried on the glasses and well you have seen for yourself the effect they have on your mind. Stronger than any drug, he knew then what his old man meant then about keeping them out of the public domain. The world would destroy itself just to feel that level of euphoria but at the same time he couldn’t destroy the spectacles, he needed to watch the nymph dance.”
Putting the glasses back in their case he started to stand shaking his head. “Maybe it was a mistake to show you, you are too young to understand them.”
Fighting back tears, Frankie stood, holding his hand out as he caught hold of his grandad's tweed jacket. 
“I’m so sorry no I do understand, I’m not too young, please grandad tell me some more. I was just so excited by what I saw.”
Sighing, the old man again turned back towards his grandson. “Ok I’ll tell you some more but this is the most important thing I or anyone else will ever tell you. You must never tell another living person about these glasses until the time is right for you to hand them over to your son or daughter in the future. I never had the chance of handing them over to your mum, god rest her soul, and I certainly wouldn’t hand them over to your dad. You are more like your mum than your dad so I know you will do the right thing and look after them.”
Frankie nodded, he missed his mum terribly, he loved his dad but the hole left by the sudden death of his mum from a heart attack when he was six years old was hard. He had an inkling of an idea why his grandad was adamant that his dad shouldn’t know about the glasses. His dad was a renowned psychologist who had published many books on the human psyche. If he knew there was something beyond the human boundary of understanding, he would never recover from that. 
Again they settled down in front of the fire. “Ok Frankie what I showed you was the good fire nymphs, now I want to show you something that you may find scary. My grandad called them destructors. If a piece of wood has been tampered with, treated with preservatives, wrought into unnatural shapes by man, the wood nymphs within are also transformed. When released by fire, they are not the happy dancing nymphs you have witnessed already, they are bigger angrier creatures wanting to burn longer, hotter, hell bent on revenge. I will show you what I mean. I have here an old fence post I cut down the other day. It’s been shaped into a post and creosoted several times, this has stopped it from doing what wood is supposed to do and that is rot. So the wood nymphs within are mutated and very angry. Ok if you're ready put the glasses back on, I’ll burn the bad wood and give it a knock. Remember what you will see is still tiny but it will feel huge. Be prepared.” 
Frankie this time properly rattled, put the spectacles back on. Looking at the fire he shakily held up his thumb. He heard his grandad tell him he was putting the bad wood as he called it on the fire. As soon as the wood hit the fire it changed shape and colour. The ethereal fire had now a black hard heart in its midst. It felt brooding, menacing, after a few seconds he again heard his grandad tell him he was going to strike the burning post with a metal pole. Frankie saw the black heart of the fire split open and a rush of shapes fly up. Trembling he pressed the zoom button on the glasses, straight away he was up and personal with destructors, they were white hot with big heads, long tails screeching out to the sky, no dancing here, no writhing together. They flew off in different directions and where the other nymphs soon burned out to float harmlessly to the ground, these ones kept their shape and vigour, they seem to be heading down at a great speed still burning. Frankie had an overwhelming sense they wanted to burn anything that got in their way. Ripping the glasses off he cried out. “Look out grandad they will burn everything”
Looking around he saw his grandad smiling at him, looking at the fire he noted a small smoldering point in the grass a few feet away, walking over he stamped on the grass seeing the burning ember within the area he was stamping out. 
Frankie felt a hand on his shoulder looking up there was his grandad looking at him. 
“Grandad, they wanted to land still burning, I saw the anger in their faces. The speed they traveled, look that one made it to the grass still burning”
Frankie’s grandad picked up the glasses. Popping them in the case. He handed them over to Frankie. 
“These are now yours, I’m an old man, and well I won’t be around much longer. You must be the custodian of these glasses. Remember what you saw today, know the difference between good and bad wood. Don’t use them for entertainment purposes. Maybe you will find a proper use for them, I wish they can be used for the goodness of mankind but I fear not. Now let’s go in, I can hear your dad gnashing his teeth from here!”
So Frankie and his Grandad walked into the house to be admonished by Frankie’s dad for staying out so late on a school night. 

The Artist
 
DCI Mike Jones sat at his desk tapping at his computer keyboard, crunching numbers of felons caught that month, comparing the numbers with previous months to see if there was a trend up or down on detection and capture. He hated this part of policing. It was no longer good enough to be diligent, to be good at your job, you now had to justify everything you and your team did, everything had to be budgeted, the figures at the end of each month must show a clear profit ratio of criminals captured against police hours used. Sighing he looked up from the screen as 
DI Jane Yews strode into the room. “You never guess who is in interview room three Mike” 
Mike, hoping his DI hadn’t seen him counting on his fingers. He had spent the last five hours in front of the infernal machine trying to remember his GCSE maths to work out the correct algorithms which would mean he could justify having his serious crime team at the current level for another year. He wasn’t in the mood for an over-excitable DI. “I don’t know Jane, please enlighten me, whoever it is. I hope they’ve done something major so I can pop it on the pie chart, which might mean I can ok a Christmas party this year for the team. At the moment everyone is having a fish supper from Ken’s takeaway and a bottle of cheap beer. So go on then I can see you are exploding to tell me who it is”
Jane triumphantly dropped a bundle of case notes on his desk. “You remember that fire last month up by Mcginleys farmland. It looked like it had been started deliberately, according to the fire investigation records. Started several hundred feet away from Mcginleys farm but a few embers must have caught the wind or something and landed on a bale of hay out to feed the cattle, it caught and then tumbled burning into a small outhouse setting light to a leaking can of oil which burnt the shed down.” Mike nodded he could remember interviewing the miserable old farmer Mcginley. A horrible little man who then put a huge insurance claim in for loss of property including some dubious sounding equipment which they all knew he probably didn’t own but no one had the energy to challenge him so he ended up pocketing a big payout for a tiny shed containing nothing more than an old lawnmower and a couple of strimmers.
Jane picked up the case notes from the desk, then with her eyes gleaming she exclaimed. “The firestarter is in our interview room and it’s none other than F G Danville”. Mike stood raised both hands up in the air with a smile he smacked his hands down hard on the desk “Brilliant news well done DI Yews, we have a bagged someone who did minimal damage to a horrible farmer, now all I need to know is who the fuck is F G Danville?”
Jane gave her boss a pitying look, went round the desk, brought Google up on the monitor Mike was working on and typed in F G Danville. Then pointing at the screen she replied “That’s F G Danville”. Mike read the screen, bringing up different images. Sitting back down blowing out his cheeks. “Wow it says here his last picture sold for a cool million at auction. He’s the hottest piece of art property at the moment, and you are telling me he burnt down Mcginleys shed?” 
Nodding Jane continued “He’s admitted to the fire saying it was supposed to have been a small local fire but he lost his special spectacles and he…. This mind you is a direct quote. I inadvertently put some bad wood on the fire which released destructors into the air. It must have been them that burnt the shed down. As I ran away I must have dropped my special spectacles. He had gone back today to try and find his special glasses. I must say he is quite animated about them, very important to his work apparently.” 
Mike looked back at his computer screen, tapping the screen, he glanced back up to his DI. “Tell me Jane you seem to know a lot about him, are all the pictures he paints like this one?” Jane nodded “I have a limited print of one of his works that cost me £400 but I love it, very unworldly, makes me feel, I don’t know, sounds silly but I feel happy when I look at it. It’s a lot like that one obviously not on such a grand scale and is only a reprint but yes I would say he has a certain style that he sticks to”
Mike looked intently at the picture murmuring to himself. Switching off the computer he stood. “Right let’s go and talk to this illustrious painter, I presume he has his legal team with him now does he?” Jane shook his head “No he hasn’t asked for any legal advice, he’s happy it seems to accept responsibility. I think he’s just itching to get back out and look for his glasses”
As Jane and Mike entered the interview room, the artist was prowling around, looking quite agitated. 
Mike sat down at the metal desk, Jane sat next to him.
“Please sit down Mr Danville, just a few more questions and I dare say we can wrap this up”
The man stopped his prowling and sat down opposite the two detectives. “Have you got my glasses? I really need them, I went back to the field several times to look for them but no luck. They are invaluable to me”
Mike held up a placatory hand. “Sorry sir no glasses were found at the scene of the fire, could they have been destroyed in the inferno?”
Mr Danville looked over at the officer. “Inferno? Don’t be a fool, it was a small scrub fire that was all.”
Mike raised an enquiring eyebrow reading from a file. “The fire started on scrub land, burning an area approximately 300meters square of scrubland, then burnt to the ground a shed and some fencing, two hundred meters away.” looking up at the agitated man he asked “ Surely a fire like that could destroy a pair of glasses.”
“I wouldn’t let the glasses get destroyed, I know I had them when I left the field, it must have fallen out of my pocket on the way back to my car.”
Mike opened the file in front of him, removing a number of pictures of art works. “So Mr F G Danville, I have to say your work is very impressive, very realistic in a strange way. I mean what are they fairies? But the way they are dancing together in the air, writhing about, flying together. Is it me or could they be embers flying from a fire?”
Jane turned to look at Mike then down at the pictures, he was right they are fire embers flying together, made into fantasy creatures. Why hadn’t she noticed that before? Looking over at the man, who must be in his late thirties, she asked. “How many paintings have you done Mr.Danville, you said you needed your special glasses for your work? What else did you need for your work? Would you say you need fire to do the pictures?”
The artist stared hard at Jane, eventually he shrugged his shoulders. “Ok well done detectives, they are dancing embers from fires, they are nymphs not fairies but well yes they are released from burning logs. I have drawn and painted I would say over the years about a thousand fires. Most of them were just small bonfires but for the bigger pictures I needed bigger fires. So I hold my hands up, I have burnt plenty of scrubland. Before this last fire I have always been so careful, never had an accident until the other night. Ironically I had finished the drawing and I had stood kicking a piece of wood into the fire. Unfortunately I didn’t check what wood it was, it was an old fence post so bad wood, it sent up destructors, by the time I realized what had happened those twisty little bastards had made a beeline for the fence and landed on the hay. Oh they must have been so gleeful especially when it rolled into that small shed. Well I picked up my easel and paints and ran back to my car. That’s when I must have dropped my glasses. My Grandad would be so angry with me”. Slumping over the desk head in his hands he looked like a broken man. 
Mike gave Jane a look rolling his eyes. He made a circling motion with his finger by his right temple, mouthing the word nutter. Clearing his throat he continued his questioning. “Indeed sir I can see how losing them must be uhm difficult, please explain a bit more why they are so important to your artwork. And what exactly are uhm nymphs and destructors” 
With a baleful look the artist raised his head from the table. “You think I’m crazy? Detective, you have no idea what’s really out there. Fire is elemental, the universe is made of fire. The sun that gives us life, even the center of our planet is a mass ball of molten metal spinning all powered by billions and billions of nymphs. Look you burn any natural thing then the nymphs will fly. Those glasses let you see them being released and the joy it gives you to see them dance and spin, for their last very short last hurrah before becoming ash.”
Mike looked at the man and he could see the artist believed what he was saying. So he was eccentric, that’s what you call weirdos who happened to be rich. Was he a danger to others? Could he be an arsonist ready to burn down a school for example? Weighing it up he didn’t think so he was just an artist who maybe sniffed too much paint thinner fumes. “Ok sir I think we have enough. I’m truly sorry you lost your glasses, if anything is handed into our station I will let you know. Just tell me one thing: why is wood worked by man potentially more destructive in a fire?”
“You really want to know? Ok wood is a natural product, it is put on this earth to grow, die and rot down to enrich the earth. Occasionally wood fires happen. These although at the time seem destructive are in fact a good thing, wood ash helps break up certain soils. Adding alkaline to an acid ground. So wood wants to die, or burn at some point. You stop that action by treating wood. Turning it into furniture, fencing or building structures. That stops the proper process. The nymphs within become locked in stasis and become mutated. Which is fine until you burn them. They then become destructive trying to burn down anything they can. I’m tired. I want to go home to bed, sorry about the farmer's shed. If he wants compensation I can certainly afford it, please let me go now”
Mike stood and shook the strange artist's hand. “Of course Mr Danville and don’t worry about farmer Mcginley, he’s already been very well compensated for a very small loss of property. If he kicks off I’ll make it clear we will look more closely into his insurance claim, a fraudulent insurance claim will certainly be more costly to him if he has to repay it back. A small word of advice, maybe change your painting style. Try some landscapes or bowls of fruit! Stay clear of fire starting if I were you”
“Thank you detective, please call me Frankie, you may be right. Without my glasses I can’t paint the nymphs anymore. In some ways I’m relieved, it is far too addictive. Hopefully the glasses are broken safer away from mankind I think.” With that Frankie who as a little boy thirty years previous in his back garden his grandfather a few weeks before succumbing to prostate cancer, had shown him the nymphs and entrusted to him the spectacles. As he walked out of the police station with a lighter step, No more clandestine nights burning wasteland. No more nymph watching. Maybe he will paint landscapes from now on. 
Mike picked up the case notes from the desk shaking his head as he walked out. Jane followed him. Back in the office dropping the notes on the desk, Mike sat in front of his screen, thinking I have another two hours or so of number crunching to do. Then with a snort he turned off the computer. “To hell with that, I’m going home to see my missus, play with the kids and watch a rerun of some drama series I’ve watched a dozen times before.”
Jane smiled “Rock and roll life Mike, I’m going home to make up tomorrow’s pack lunches and maybe just maybe start the washing! What did you make of Frankie Danville then? A nut bag obviously but he seemed so sure of himself. I don’t know, I felt a bit of a shiver down my spine, just for a second I thought…. Ahh well I’ll tell you what I’m going to do when I get home, scrutinize my picture done by nutbag Frankie, try to see it through his eyes!”
Mike laughed. “Eccentric but harmless I would say anyway see you in the morning Jane, goodnight”. As Jane leaves she stops to chat to a constable who is just walking in then takes her leave. Mike looks up and spies the young constable. “Hello Derek, what's that you're holding?” The constable walks over to the desk handing over a battered old spectacle case to his superior. “A pair of glasses sir, they seem to be broken though I put them on and the world just went black”
Mike, intrigued, took the glasses from the constable glancing up at the clock. Pocketed the case and thanked the constable running out of the door he jumped into his Audi and drove home for a domestic night of small chores and childcare. Just after 10 o'clock. He stood up “Sarah love I’m just popping out to the garden. I want to burn that bit of hedge cutting from yesterday.” His wife, looking perplexed, just nodded, “It’s a bit late isn’t it? Oh well if you want, whilst you're at it there are some old fence posts and a pallet that needs getting rid of if you're in a burning mood just be careful love it is quite windy out there”. Smiling Mike walked out to the bottom of his garden where he had already set a bonfire up he was going to burn tomorrow. Setting light to it, feeding on the hedge cuttings he looked up to see the myriad of embers climbing into the air. He delved into his coat pocket, bringing out the battered old case and taking out the glasses. He placed them on feeling the arm of the glasses he felt the little knob pressing it he sat transfixed grinning like an idiot. Feeling around with his hands he felt for some more hedge cuttings throwing them on he actually cried out with the utter joy of what he was witnessing. As the nymphs stopped dancing he again put his hand out feeling a large piece of wood. With gay abandonment he threw that on. 
The next day as the coroner's officer zipped the body bag up. Jane who was taking notes brushing the tears out of her eyes. Looking again at her tear stained notepad. She asked the fireman standing by his engine, washing the ash off his face. “So you are saying he decided to have a bonfire last night. burnt what seems to be a lot of hedge cutting and some wooden posts and fencing then the wind blew some burning embers into his shed setting alight to an open can of petrol which exploded. Mike was then blasted into the bonfire where he was consumed by the flames?”
“That’s about right, The poor sod was very unfortunate. The last bit of wood he put on seemed to have exploded, the wind blowing the embers into the shed directly onto the leaking can of petrol.” Shaking his head he continued. “He didn’t stand a chance. Oh these were found next to his body.” 
Picking up a battered leather case he handed it to Jane. “Seems to contain some glasses Sarah, Mike's wife didn’t recognise them. I presumed they may be a police thing?” 
Jane took the battered case and walked slowly back to her car holding back the tears.Once in the car she opened the case, looked at the glasses within, putting them on and the world went black. Groping on the seat next to her she grabbed a cigarette box, pulling a cigarette out jammed it in her mouth, then bringing a lighter up she lit it, her scream was heard by the fireman as she opens her car door ripping the glasses off her face and throwing them in a dustbin with the case. Before returning to her car and driving off, intrigued, the fireman wandered over to the bin, seeing nestled on top of the rubbish was the same battered old leather case with the sunglasses languishing on top of the household waste. Picking up the old looking spectacles he put them on, spinning around with a shrug he couldn’t understand the extreme reaction of DI Yews, just as he was taking them off he sensed a small white glow within the sea of blackness, carefully walking towards the tiny glow, crouching down blindly holding his hands out they brushed against the white glow, with a small wince of pain he pulled his hand up blowing on them as he felt a burning sensation. Looking down at the white glow again it started to shimmer then split open, small shapes flew up. Startled, he pulled his damaged hand up to his face, knocking the left arm of the spectacles. A wave of euphoria enveloped him as he watched the shapes dance in front of his eyes. Taking the glasses off he looked down to see he was crouching by the original bonfire; the heart of the fire had a few dying embers. Thoughtfully he pocketed the spectacles just as his colleague ran up. 
“Dave quick we have a call, a house fire the other side of town we have got to go all trucks are rolling, it’s a biggie by all accounts”
Dave with a huge smile jumped into the firetruck. 
“What you smiling about Dave, thought you would be mad as hell. I mean this will be more than a double shift for us”
Dave just smiled again, his right hand in his pocket clutching the old battered case within, his heart bursting with the thought of what he was about to witness.
 
THE END