Stuck as a Truck

I'm screaming, shouting, begging to be heard, yet the only sound that escapes me is my blaring siren. "Get me out of here!" I uselessly yell for all the fireman, aware that my voice will go unheard. If only I could remember how I became like this. I refuse to believe it's because I wished this upon myself. I vaguely recall blowing out my birthday candles as a young child, wishing to become a firetruck. At the time, I didn’t realize that what I truly wanted was to be a fireman. I was so young, so dumb at the time. There's got to be an explanation behind this; a way to get my body back, my life back!

"God, when the hell are they going to get this thing fixed?" asks firefighter Chuck, referring to my siren, with a Yuengling in hand.

"Six different mechanics, Chuck! Six of them!" exclaims Joe. "At the end, they all throw their hands up and say the damn truck has a mind of its own." He's shaking his head, not knowing what to believe, I'm sure.

"I know a place in South Jersey we could try. I know the guy who owns it so he won't dick us around." Chuck suggests.

"I say we light this baby up in flames at the next big fire and blame it on the beast."

My siren instinctively blares at an ear-splitting pitch in the station drowning out the fireman's laughter.

"I guess he didn’t like that idea, huh ole boy" Joe hits the side of me twice, affectionately while laughing hysterically. If only he knew I was a woman and how much his little idea truly affected me.

They continue on, drinking their beer in the firehouse discussing the Sunday football game. I never realized how much firemen drink until I got stuck in this madness. So safe, so noble of them! I wonder if people are aware that when their house is burning down and they're calling for help- the people that come to their rescue have been drinking beer since lunchtime. I'm interested to know how they'd feel about that. I'm not much of a drinker myself, never have been. I suppose I wouldn’t fit in as a fireman after all. If I get myself out of this mess, I'll never come anywhere near a fire department for as long as I shall live.

When I first realized what had become of me, I attempted to speak to the other firetrucks. I suppose you're not surprised that they didn’t respond. I swore I was dreaming and I was going to wake up. I even drove into the brick wall, hoping to wake myself. The loud crunching noise heard was no match to the pain I felt from the bricks tearing into me. Who knew firetrucks could feel pain? Every car accident of my lifetime, instantly come to mind, curious if they felt the pain as well. Am I the only vehicle that's alive on the road or are there others? If there are, I have yet to meet one.

Angry at the unfortunate existence of my life, I contemplate driving over the firemen. I could picture it now, the headlines would read: "Firemen Mysteriously Run Down by an empty, parked firetruck!" The townsmen will cry about ghosts, frightened of their own shadow. While others will swear the men are lying to cover for one of their own. Only I will know the truth about what really occurred.

Although, I don't have it in my heart to hurt anyone. I want to because I'm bitter and coldhearted currently yet the true me would never hurt a soul. The true me at one point wanted to save lives. I wanted to be a firetruck, fireman- whatever the case. The point was that I wanted to help people. I didn’t want anyone to die, to suffer from severe burns. I wanted to be a hero; a heroine, if you will. Maybe that's why deep down I don’t just drive away. Of course, where would I go as a firetruck, other than right here or in the midst of a fire? I'd appear rather silly driving aimlessly, no one at the wheel. At least I can live vicariously through the men in the fire department. Although, I have to admit it warms my heart, each fire I pull up to. I watch as my men hose down the scene, heroically saving each person inside. Saving animals from burning buildings and reconnecting children with their mothers. Pulling up to kittens stuck in a tree branch, too high to land safely without help. Couples holding each other tightly in panic as they watch flames lighten the dark, night sky. To think, long ago this was my dream. Although I can't change what has happened to me maybe I can contribute after all. If I can't get back my loved ones, I can be here while the firemen save others.


word count: 855

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