A VERY SPECIAL CHILD

The firemen of Company 16, Longwood station, gathered silent around the wriggling bundle on their kitchen table. The smell of bacon and diesel exhaust hung in the air, tinged with a faint perfume of baby powder. The only sound in the station house was the gurgling and cooing of what, by all accounts, was a happy and well-fed baby. 

“No note or nothing?” asked Colin, the rookie in the squad.

“For the third time, Rook. No. No note. Just him.” Placido, a first generation firefighter and fiercely proud Cuban tucked the baby’s blanket tighter. “I take out the trash from last night – you guys are pigs, by the way. He’s sleeping in front of the door. In that carrier thing. I look around to see if someone hangs back, you know, watching. No one. So, I bring him in.”

“How do we know it’s a him?” A reed-thin firefighter adjusted his glasses and leaned in for a closer look. “Seriously,” pressed Jaymie. “He could be a girl.”

“A problem is what he is.”