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A Day Off Part 1

Even though I should have probably done my check on Honey, or put Big John through his paces, I spent the majority of the day whittling away at the pile of paperwork that had accumulated on my desk over the past week and some whose time had been spent preparing for the Halloween event. Even though I detested the amount of time it was taking me to process the generally-meaningless data, I knew it'd settle Jack a bit and indeed it was important to keeping the place in balance even though many times it seemed to me to take precedence over things of practical import.

Even though Cleo and her cubs were with me at work, Jack made no comment about her, or about anything for that matter, when we passed in the hall a couple times during the day, when I was heading out to the cathouse to do my usual patrols and question-and-answer at the times my eyes started getting wigged out from staring at the computer screen and the numbers too long.

Zack decided to pay us another visit, still strictly a visitor for the time being as I'd not really processed his application for being a shit-shoveling grunt. I pondered something and I went up to the main office. Julie was apparently out on lunch break, so I rifled through the filing cabinets until I found the forms I'd been after. I made a change on the dry-erase board in the office, then went back down the stairs and handed the paper to Zack. "Here, just sign the bottom and I'll fill out the rest."

"Why? I already filled out that job application you handed me. Didn't I do it right?" Zack asked.

I smiled. "You did, but... this is something a little different. Just... trust me."

Zack shrugged and signed the bottom, using the wall as a flat writing surface. After he handed it back to me I looked it over and nodded. "Ok, Zack. You're officially a scheduled volunteer... on duty today, so you're perfectly legal to be doing most of what you've been doing already."

Zack smiled. "Really? Thanks Mr. Peters."

I took him into the gift shop and we walked to the counter. "Hi there Laura," I smiled at the clerk.

"Hi there, Mr. Peters. How are you doing today?" the young lady asked.

"Oh, I'm alright. Is Betty here, or is she off someplace?" I inquired curiously.

"Oh, sorry Mr. Peters. She's off today. Is there something you need?" Laura looked worried.

I smiled and chuckled. "I just need to get Zack here a volunteer shirt. Would you get him set up?"

Laura looked around. "Well, if you mind the register, sure, I can get him one." She then looked to Zack. "What size?"

Zack chuckled softly and blushed a bit. "Medium, Laura."

I looked curiously to Zack. "Do you two know each other?"

Zack nodded as Laura ducked into the storage area. "Her sister was in my grade and we'd see each other at lunch. But I don't think she remembers me. I was sort of... not the kind that she hung around. What with all my... well... you know."

I laughed softly. "Ah... the teenage bad attitude that went along with the hardware-store visual accessories?"

Zack nodded. "Yeah... that too."

Laura was soon back with the t-shirt and handed it to Zack. "Well, welcome to the club, Mr.....?"

Zack smiled. "Seffrood. Zack Seffrood."

Laura got a puzzled look. "You didn't go to Hamilton High School, did you?" Zack nodded, and Laura's eyes got wide. "You're... THAT Zack Seffrood?" Zack nodded again. "Wow, I never thought I'd see you in here with what all you used to shout in biology class, unless my sister was lying."

Zack sighed. "No, she was right..." Zack looked a bit down and I chuckled.

"Sometimes people change... but that's just life. Anyway, thanks Laura." I nudged Zack as there was now a couple customers waiting to pay for their zoo memorabilia.

Zack waved a bit and we headed out the doors back to the courtyard. "Thanks, Mr. Peters."

I smiled. "No problem, Zack. Now... first thing you need to do is change into that t-shirt and then come up to my office, ok?"

Zack looked around. "Where's the nearest...?"

He didn't even get a chance to finish his sentence before I pointed to the right of the main portico entrance. Flanking the office stairs on either side were the public restrooms, across from the gift shop.

Zack nodded and headed into the men's washroom and I headed up the stairs back to my office.

Soon enough there was a knock on the office door. "Kommen sie!" I said loudly.

The door opened a bit and Zack stuck his head in. "Does that mean I should come in?"

I laughed and nodded, so Zack stepped through the door. "Sorry, Zack. Most of the people around here know that one. It's short for "Kommen sie heir"... "You come here" in German."

"Oh, I gotcha." Zack nodded and flumped down in one of the chairs. "So... what do I do now?"

"Well, I'm sort of stuck in here doing paperwork, so for right now, you're going to be a gopher, if you don't mind." I smiled.

"Oh...." Zack looked a bummed, and I laughed. "What?" he asked.

"Oh, you just looked like someone stomped your favorite toy is all." I smiled. "It's not that bad." I fished out a small notebook and pen from the desk drawer. "It means you'll see a lot more of the zoo than most people do. First thing I need you to do is to head back to the powerhouse and visit Chet Malin, he's the powerhouse chief."

Zack took the notebook and pen. "What do I do with these?"

I smiled. "Remember taking notes in class so you can remember everything? Some things around here can get a little complicated and you'll have to repeat them correctly to either myself or whomever, so the information is interepreted in the right manner, as some things you'll see and hear from here on out are quite tricky and can mean different things in different phrasing."

"Oh, ok. I gotcha." Zack smiled.

"This you won't need the notebook for, most likely, but it's a matter of delivering something to Chet for me." I handed Zack a somewhat heavy wooden case.

"What's in this?" Zack asked.

"Tube rollers for boiler flues. Chet has one of our boilers down because the flues are leaking, and he needs one of these to repair it. I don't remember which size he needed so here's the whole set. And while you're over there ask him how cleanup is coming. He'll need to have the powerhouse open as Santa's Workshop for our big Thanksgiving doings." I smiled.

"Oh, ok. So.... how do I get there?" Zack asked.

I chuckled. "Oh, that's right... um..." I gave it some thought. "Head past the cathouse on that path. There's a barrier gate across the back drive..." I got up from my desk chair and got him a key from the cabinet and put it on a large paperclip as a fob. "Use this key to get out the back, then go along the road until you come to the big brick powerhouse. To the far left you'll see a loading dock, to the right there's a set of double-doors down low at the bottom of a steep ramp. You don't want those. Go up a set of three or four metal steps to the single door in the side up higher. That's the entry door to the powerhouse and it shouldn't be locked. Chet's office is the only one in there, glass-walled and he might be snoozing there." I chuckled and Zack smiled.

"If he is, just knock on the door and that should wake him up. If he's not in his office, he'll be on the shop floor. Just ask for him when one of his greasers confronts you about being in there." I smiled.

"Ok, I guess I can do that." Zack said.

"And if you want to help him with something, that's fine, just make sure you get back to me before closing. Just bear in mind that things back there are usually quite dirty so you'd want to borrow a coverall so you don't end up looking like you've been playing in the coal pile." I chuckled.

Zack looked at me confusedly, but shrugged and got up to head out. "Ok, Mr. Peters. Thanks."

I nodded and he headed out the door. I smiled, knowing that Chet would likely show the kid around and he'd either be bored to death by what all's back there, or amazed out of his gourd by the age and power of what's all hidden back there.

* * * * *

On the way to the concessionaire I heard someone call out. "Mr. Peters... could I have a word with you?"

I did an about-face in the hall and entered the conference room, whose door was open and Jack was sitting at the head of the table with papers in front of him. "Yes, Jack? What can I do for you today?"

He didn't look up from the papers he was working on. "Is that lioness back in your office again?" he inquired in a nonchalant manner.

I nodded. "Yes, she is. The cubs, too."

"Oh. Well, that was all I wanted to know." His response was brief and relatively polite.

"Ok, Jack." I smiled and turned to head out.

"I'm just getting my ducks in a row, as you've said I should do." Jack said with a smirk enough I could hear it in his voice.

I shrugged. "As you wish, Mr. Director."

"And is it true you've added a new volunteer?" he inquired.

"It is. Zack Seffrood." I said in a pleasant manner.

"Oh, alright." He jotted the name down on a pad of paper nearby and continued leafing through the files. "Where is he currently?"

"Unless I'm mistaken, he's back in the powerhouse helping Chet Malin with getting things ready for winter and the Santa mess, why do you ask?" I inquired.

"You know it's a violation of zoo policy to allow volunteers into restricted areas unescorted, right?" he inquired.

I pondered how to respond, then simply said. "Yes, I know."

Jack looked up at me and set his reading glasses on the pile of papers. "You act like you own this place, and that you're the one in command here. I don't know if it's just that you've been here so long you think such things, whether it's the fact that most of the staff would jump off a cliff if you asked them to, or if it's some kind of personal animosity towards me. Perhaps even you're trying to get my job, I don't know. But your days of playing Emperor of the North are coming to an end. Of that you can rest assured. And I can further assure you that once the board sees the evidence I'm compiling against you, they'll have no choice but to dismiss you."

I looked Jack up and down. His demeanor was calm and collected, far different from his antics of the previous evening. A smile spread over my face which seemed to confuse him. "As you wish, Mr. Director." With that I headed back out the door to head down to the concession stand to get something to drink, Jack Bennin likely completely befuddled by my lack of concern.

Realistically, I was slightly concerned, and as I walked down the stairs I mentally worked through the board members and which way they'd be voting. Some disliked Jack to the degree they'd ignore pretty much anything but outright fraud or malfeasance. Ron Holak was among them, which wasn't necessarily a good thing. I personally didn't like interpersonal animosity to have any part in decision-making, but it wasn't my place to say so to board members, even though it benefitted me from time to time. There were those like Andy that would recuse themselves from voting due to personal conflicts of interest, and likely Ed Stoddard would do similarly. Jack was right that there would be enough in just... even the past year, or the past few days, to have legitimate grounds to terminate me if the board chose to weigh the evidence in the manner Jack would prefer, or even with strict adherance to prescribed policy. I'd gotten away with things for quite some time because of my position, my knowledge, my affiliations and being three whiskers from being absolutely irreplacable around here. Perhaps with this new board of directors I'd not be able to carry on as I had, but to change things now would be folly since Jack was already on the warpath and it would do no good for neither the animals nor the public to do anything less than I've done in the past.

I got my large soda from the vendor and headed back to the stairs. Vic came buzzing up on a grunt. "Hey, Jim!" he hollered and waved me over.

I turned about and headed for the grunt. "What's up, Vic?" I asked.

"What's this about you going to be shitcanned?" Vic asked.

I laughed. "Boy, word gets around quick around here."

Vic's eyes raised high "So it's true? I'da never thought I'd see the day when you'd get kicked outta here."

I smiled. "Don't believe everything you hear, Vic. It's only a half-truth. Jack's after me, and this time he has some real ammunition, but... I'm not too worried."

Vic smiled. "Now that's kinda what I figured on... You just let me know if there's anything I can do, ok?" the old man winked. "'sides... You're a far better boss than he is as far as being level-headed. If I had a dollar for each time he's had one of his yelling matches with me, I wouldn't have to work here for a living. I'd just live off the money from the harrassment lawsuits!" He smiled broadly.

I laughed. "You and I both know you're better than that, Vic. But thanks. If there's something, I'll let you know."

The old man patted my back. "Don't let the little bastard get you down... he's so full of himself he needs to hang a bucket off his backside to hold all the excess." With that Vic swung the grunt around and headed off somewhere else.

I looked up and saw Jack standing at a window, apparently having watched Vic and I. I gave him a smile and salute and he moved away from the window.

* * * * *

There was a knock on my door and I looked at the time. It was almost closing time so I leaned back from the computer. "Kommen sie!" I said.

Zack popped in through the door, looking a bit more disheveled and some marks from whatever he'd been doing. "Wow... I never knew there was that much stuff back there, or how OLD it is!"

I laughed. "So, what'd Chet have you doing? I figured he'd find something for a spare set of hands."

"Well, first he showed me around the machine shop and the engines.... I had no idea stuff could be that old and still work! I mean... over a HUNDRED YEARS OLD?!?" Zack plunked down in one of the chairs and I couldn't help but laugh.

"You've not seen the stuff I have back home, kid. But, yeah... that Corliss is over a century old and still able to beat the pants off a Caterpillar engine as far as durability. And size." I winked and leaned back.

"Mr. Malin showed me what those tube thingys were for, and then he had me up in the front of this boiler helping him by rolling the flues that he had marked, after he showed me how." Zack was beaming. "It was just SO COOL! And he said you'd be having it all decorated and stuff for Santa Claus to be back there after the Thanksgiving parade?"

I nodded. "Yep, and I'll bet he asked you to come back and help clean it all up and work on those decorations, right?" I asked.

Zack looked surprised. "How'd you know?"

I laughed. "Because he always needs help with that. I'll be back there one of these days to give the Corliss generator engine a going-over before we start that up for the winter, and the machinery engine probably can use a bit of a going-over again too. Oh, that reminds me... I'll have to get in touch with Jack Harrigan." I turned and jotted myself a note.

"Who's Jack Harrigan?" Zack asked, curiously.

"He's a friend of mine... we usually get the helper elves from his crew, which gets laid off about this time each year. That leaves Chet's crew available for their normal jobs but still gives a good appearance to Santa's Workshop." I smiled at Zack.

"Oh, ok." The smile never left Zack's face even though it was clear he didn't quite follow what I'd been saying. Then something apparently sank in. "Waitaminute... you said you have old stuff at your home too? As well as lions and stuff as pets?!?"

I laughed heartily at that. "Yes, Zack. I taught Chet a lot of what he knows about those engines back there, as far as maintenance. Operation is pretty simplistic - keep the pressure up in the boilers, keep the engine lubricated and it'll run nearly forever with just little tinkering now and again. I don't have anything like the Corliss or the big Erie boilers at my place, but I have a nice Case traction engine and some other goodies."

Zack looked confused. "A what?"

I smiled. "Traction engine... a steam tractor. You've never seen one?" I inquired with curiosity.

Zack just shook his head, so I did a Google image search and found a photo of one similar to mine, then showed it to him. "So... you mean that's like a train only on wheels?" Zack asked.

I chuckled. "Sort of... there's a few differences, but yeah, sort of like a steam locomotive on road wheels."

Zack looked at me like I was pulling his leg. "And you have one of those at your house?"

I nodded. "In the Quonset shed, along with a separator, mold-board plow, and some other this-and-that." I remembered something and jotted it down on the same note page as Jack Harrigan's note.

Zack thought about things for a moment. "So, what do you do with it?"

I chuckled. "Well, not much of anything these days because this place takes up so much of my time, but I used to take it to steam shows and in parades every so often. Vintage farm machinery shows, county fairs... oh! That reminds me..." I jotted down another note - this one to look at the carousel engine before the Thanksgiving Day festival.

"What's with all the writing?" Zack asked.

"Oh, well, just thinking of things I need to do before we have the big Thanksgiving Day parade and free day." I smiled.

"Oh, yeah, I remember that. Hey, how come there aren't any lions or anything in the parade like there used to be?" Zack asked.

"Well, that's part of Director Bennin's policy and also somewhat an issue because of changes in the law, Zack. Sometimes society says we have to change the way we do things because they think it's not right." I chuckled. "But then again, you already know that one firsthand."

Zack looked down and blushed a bit. "Yeah... kinda makes me embarrassed."

I looked curious. "Why? You were just following what you thought was right. Just because you learned things weren't how you thought them to be it doesn't mean you shouldn't have stood up for what you believed in at the time."

Zack looked at me curiously. "You mean... you don't think I was wrong?"

I smiled. "I didn't think you were wrong, I KNEW you were wrong, but... it takes something to stand up for what you believe in, right or wrong, and it takes even more to admit when you are wrong and to have the flexibility to change your thinking in the face of new evidence." I chuckled. "But... many times people think their opinions count as fact without providing any rational and stable foundation for why their views are correct. I have a lot of opinions, but unless I can back them up with some kind of evidence - real evidence, not just perceptions - it's still just my opinion."

Zack thought for a bit. "I guess that makes sense." He smiled some. "Thanks, Mr. Peters."

I shrugged. "Nothing to really thank me for. So... you gonna be back tomorrow to help out Chet?" I asked.

Zack thought for a bit. "I dunno, Mr. Peters. It's Friday so maybe some of my friends and I might..." He thought for a moment. "Hey, can I bring some friends over here to help clean things up?"

I chuckled. "That'd normally be a good idea, but you're right in that the weekend is here so the main office here will be closed, and while I trust you enough to not do anything stupid, I don't really know your friends to know if they're the kind who follows directions readily or are the kind to stick their fingers in places they can get pinched. Those old engines have a lot of parts that can not only pinch someone, but take off fingers or whole limbs if you don't know what you're doing or you're not careful."

Zack looked a little disheartened. "Yeah, I guess you're right, Mr. Peters."

I patted Zack's shoulder. "But... how about this. You've wanted to visit me at my house, right? How about you come over and help me with something?"

Zack looked excited. "Can I see your lions and stuff, too?"

I chuckled. "I think that can be arranged."

Just then Julie let herself into my office. "Oh, I didn't know you had someone else here," she said a bit embarrassedly.

"Julie, this is Zack. Zack, this is my girlfriend Julie. She's also the head secretary," I said, making the introductions.

"It's nice to meet you, Zack." Julie said.

"Thanks. Nice to meet you, too." Zack said, a bit embarrassedly.

"Jack just left... and I think he's got something going on about you, Jim. He had me pull a whole bunch of files for him." Julie looked concerned.

I sighed. "Yeah, he's out for blood. Oh well... nothing I can really do about it now." I shrugged.

Julie looked really worried now. "Do you think he'll have you fired?"

I smiled. "You know he's trying to, but I don't think I have to worry too much. Anyway, you don't have to worry at all."

Zack looked a little unsettled. "Uh, should I like... leave or something?"

I smiled and shook my head. "Naw, you're fine. Julie, mind patching me through to Chet in the powerhouse? I think we're going to have a bit of a party this weekend, and give Jerry a call to see if he'll come out too."

Julie looked confused. "Ok, Jim..." she said and headed back to the main office.

"What's all this about?" Zack asked, curiously.

"Well, if I'm going to have you over, might as well have a few other friends over. Chet would like to, and Jerry's usually wanting to hang around. So we'll just see."

My old desktop phone rang and I lifted the reciever. "Chet's on the line for you, Jim." scratched through the earpiece.

"Thanks, Julie. Hi there Chet. Say, do you have plans for the weekend?" I asked.

"My wife and kids were thinking of heading to our place on Clear Lake for the weekend and to button it up for the winter. I was thinking about spending half a day here working on stuff. Why? Got something you need done?" Chet asked pleasantly.

I chuckled. "Not exactly. Was thinking of having a bit of a party out at my place. Nothing fancy, just food and a get-together. I was thinking of firing up the old Case but now I don't know... will have to check the weather."

"Oh! If you're going to do that, I'll be out there!" Chet laughed. "This stuff here will keep, and the missus wanted time away anyway."

"So you'll be out?" I asked.

"You bet!" Chet said. I could practically hear his smile over the phone.

"Say, mind bringing that little ATV trailer of yours? Got something cooking but I could use a small trailer like that for the day." I hoped Chet would say yes.

"Sure! Got the four-wheelers out at Clear Lake anyway, so it's just in the backyard. What time would you like me there? And you'll have to remind me of the directions to get out to your place. I know it's somewhere east of town, but... I can't exactly remember anymore." Chet sounded excited.

"Come up to the office and I'll draw you a bit of a map. And show up about the same time opening time is, that'd give us a full day of playing and then we can have dinner and movies. Sound good?" I asked.

"I can do that. It'll let me sleep in a bit!" I could practically hear Chet wink at that, knowing how often he took naps while on the clock.

"Ok, and thanks Chet. See you in a bit." I hung up the phone.

"So Mr. Malin is coming, too?" Zack asked.

I nodded. "Yeah... if I do what I'm thinking of, he'd like to get in on it." I quickly checked the weather, and was gratful to see that even though it was early November, we'd have a pleasant evening and were supposed to have a nice warm day tomorrow. I furrowed my brow... hm....

Zack looked at me with a sort of puzzled expression. "We going to do something important, Mr. Peters?"

I held up a single finger and picked out the outside-line phone and dialed a number.

"Public Works." came the answer from the other end.

"Hey, Lew... It's Jim Peters. Anything going on down in the parks this weekend?" I asked.

"Yeah, a ballgame at Jacobs Park's field... someone's got Franking Park's shelter rented for a family reunion or something. Why?" Lew Symensma asked.

"Oh... hm... had an idea and didn't want to step on anyone else's fun. How about the municipal lot next to the fire station, that's usually empty on the weekend, right?" I asked.

"Yeah, that's not got anything scheduled. Whatcha got planned? Something big?" Lew asked.

"Not really, just got to thinking I'd bring some of my old iron into town for the day as sort of a teaser for the Thanksgiving parade. Couple of cats... do a cookout for myself and my friends. That sort of thing." I said.

"Oh! Well, that's no big deal. I'll even have the boys roll out old Number 3, and can drop a hose over to your rig if you need water." Lew sounded excited about that too.

"Ok, that'd be great, Lew. And yeah, if you want to just happen to be giving the trucks a bath at that time, too, no biggie. But you know my Case can puke some nasty stuff once in awhile so you'd want to have them back in before I pull out. And I'll give you and your boys a burger or something. Unless you want to bring steaks for them and we'll cook them up for you, too."

"You gonna have one of your noisemakers there too?" Lew asked.

I hadn't really thought about that, so I canted my jaw. "We'll have to see. This thing is growing a bit more than I expected, but... I think I can figure something like that out."

"You know how the boys get a kick out of that old crap of yours, so... just figured I'd ask." Lew said.

"Ok... we'll be in town tomorrow, and I'll see what all I can dig up as far as stuff to make a to-do of it all." I said.

"Sounds good. I'll know when you show up, so don't matter what time. I know I'll hear it!" Lew said. "See you then."

"Ok, goodbye Lew." I said and I hung up the phone.

Zack looked really interested "So... what are we going to do, Mr. Peters?"

I smiled broadly. "Unofficial parade and cookout, Zack." I pondered... aw, hell. It's only money, and I'd not taken a weekend since the road trip to get the cats.

Julie came in. "Jerry said he had plans with his girlfriend this weekend that he can't come," she said.

I shrugged. "That's alright. We can manage with the four of us, and I'm sure Lew Symensma will dig up a few others that'd end up helping out."

Julie looked curious. "Four?"

I nodded. "You and I, Zack here, and Chet said he'd be out."

Julie sat down. "So... what are we doing this weekend? I figured you'd probably be working."

I shrugged. "I figured I would be, too, but... gotta have fun once in awhile. Besides, the crap here will keep and I know the cats here will be taken care of. What we're doing? Oh... we're going to put on a mini-parade and a bit of a cookout in town."

Julie looked at me like I'd just spoken SWahili again. "We're.... doing.... what?" she looked at me incredulously.

I smiled. "Don't worry, it won't be that much work. It'll be work, but it'll be fun, too. You'll see." I looked to Zack. "Do you have your own car or some way of getting around?"

Zack nodded. "Yeah... it's just a little shitbox that was my sister's but yeah. Why?"

"Was just wondering how you'd get out to my place is all." I said and started scribbling a map on a legal pad, then tore off the page and handed it to Zack. "Think you could be up and out there by 8 am?" I asked.

Zack nodded. "I guess I can."

"And you'll want to find yourself a pair of overalls, coveralls, or jeans and a shirt you don't mind getting greasy or stained. But not something floppy-loose. And you'll probably want a hat with your hair. Wear work or hiking boots if you have them, because things on an engine can get a little warm." I smiled.

Julie looked at me with curiosity. I smiled at her and chuckled. "I'll tell you all about it on the way home, hon," I said, and she nodded.

Zack got up just as there was a knock on the door. "Come in, Chet." I said.

"I'll see you later, Mr. Peters." Zack said and headed for the door as it opened and in came the powerhouse chief. "Bye, Mr. Malin."

"Bye, Zack. See you around." Chet said and waved as Zack let himself out. "How'd you know it was me, Jim?"

I chuckled. "I told you to drop by, remember? I figured it was about the right time for that."

"Oh, yeah. Ok." Chet smiled. "Hi there Julie. Haven't seen you in awhile."

Julie blushed. "Hi. Yeah, guess you've not had much need to come up to the office lately."

Chet looked at Julie blushing, then looked at me. He then pointed to us both. "You two got something going on?" he inquired.

Julie blushed deeper and I laughed. "Yeah... we're sort of dating now."

Chet smiled big. "About time, you daffy shit. I've been wondering when you'd find someone to settle down with and get a couple kids like me and Brit'ny."

I was already drawing a map just like with Zack and handed the sheet of yellow paper to Chet. "Here's the directions, and... well, we'll see about kids and all, Chet." Julie was just standing there blushing deeper and deeper shades of red.

Chet studied the drawing. "Ok, so it is east of town, and not that hard to get to. That works. So you say I should be there like 9am or so?"

I nodded. "9 will work, but it doesn't matter much either way since Zack will be coming around 8, and I'll be up like usual and getting some stuff ready ahead of time."

"Getting stuff ready? Sounds like you're going to be doing something big," Chet quipped.

I chuckled. "Well, it's sort of grown. You know Lew Symensma, public works director and fire chief?"

Chet nodded. "Yeah... Well, I've seen him here and there. Why?"

"Well, we'll be taking the old Case and a trailer or two into town and parking next to the fire station by that lawn there. Some of his boys are probably going to be around and it's sort of turned into a public event." I said.

Chet laughed. "You never do anything small, do you?"

I chuckled. "Sometimes, but it's hard to do anything small when you have so many friends."

Chet smacked my back. "I guess that's about right. Well, see you tomorrow," Chet said and headed for the door.

"Coveralls, Chet," I reminded him.

"Hell, I didn't think it'd be a black-tie affair if you were inviting me!" Chet winked and shut the door behind him.

Julie smiled as I got up and went to the washroom. Cleo looked up and I fuzzled her head as I started putting her cubs in their little basket for the trip back home.

"So..... what _exactly_ are we doing tomorrow, honey?" Julie asked. I couldn't tell if she was perturbed by my not consulting her, or if she was just wary about things. I smiled broadly and began explaining it all as we headed out for the day.

* * * * *

I was up with the dawn's light and grabbed a Dew from the fridge. Julie was still in bed, and I had decided to let her sleep in as much as she wanted to. There was a bit of frost on the grass still as I headed out to the Quonset. I unlocked the doors and threw them wide, the morning light trickling through the back windows of the shed. I had filled up the old girl last night, letting the water normalize overnight as much as it could in the boiler. Well... now was as good a time as any. I checked to make sure the wheel chocks were out from under the large drive wheels, and I climbed up to the operator's platform, then up onto the seatbox. I looked out overtop the boiler for a time, deciding which I'd prefer doing, moving the engine out by hand, or under power. I frowned and decided that under power would work a bit better so I got a fitting and wrench from the seat toolbox and dropped back down to the dirt floor of the shed. Walking around the fireman's side of the engine, I climbed the steps to the platform and removed a pipe plug in the bottom of the dry pipe between the throttle and the flyball governor, then screwed in the Milton quick-connect fitting. I climbed back down to the floor and uncoiled an air hose from the nearby homemade portable compressor. Climbing back up I connected it to the fitting and then dropped back down.

Returning to the operator's platform I made sure the throttle was closed, the engine reversing gear in forward, the drive clutch engaged so that once the engine started moving so would the entire machine. I looked alongside the boiler to check the direction of the forward wheels, and saw they were in an appropriate position to pull out of the shed.

I got back down and went over to the compressor. First I checked the gas in the old International Model LA gas engine. It seemed alright, so I took the little oil can and filled the oil cups before returning it to its holder. I took the hopper cover off and knew I'd have to fill the engine with water soon enough after getting it going, so I went to the frost-proof hydrant in the corner of the shed and filled a 5-gallon bucket most of the way with water, and poured it into the engine's hopper.

I held the choke cup down and gave the engine a few cranks. Fortunately it spluttered to life with a healthy putt-putt-putt- -putt-putt-putt of hit-and-miss engines. The compressor was already hissing a steady stream of air when I closed the starting valve and it started pumping up the tank. When it hit 100 pounds, I opened the valve for the line and with a huffing the big old Case started puffing its way out of the shed on air.

Naturally, the gearing clattered a little bit, and there was the popping sound of the gravel of that end of the drive being moved about by the heavy wheels of the machine... it was quickly running the compressor out of air, but I knew that would happen no matter what. Soon the engine slowed to a rotation far slower than that of a record player, but it was still moving, having overcome its original inertia as well as having gotten out of the natural depressions it made in the dirt floor of the shed. No matter what you park something like that on, it'll still settle in, unless it's very thick concrete, which is sort of folly to park a traction engine on anyway.

I'd put steel bands over the lugs, and on the front wheels, bolting rubber tread to the bands to make the unit more highway-friendly, and soon enough the stack and nose of the boiler were outside the shed and past the gooseneck lamps above the doors, so I could start firing her up. I went back to the compressor and pressed the switch to ground out the magneto, at which the engine stopped putting and everything came to a stop, traction engine included. I disconnected the hose and put the plug back in place of the air fitting. I then looped the hose back up and set about splitting some of the firewood into smaller kindling strips. The fine dirt and detritus of the Quonset floor was great for that as it'd hold the irregular-shaped pieces of pine upright for me to swing the ax and knock them apart into smaller and smaller bits.

Getting back up onto the deck, I looked to make sure the grates were clean and, seeing that they were, I set out a bed of softwood splits across the grates. Then I got a big stack of newspaper from the shed and thumped it onto the operator's deck. I startd balling it up until there was a huge pile of it spilling through the firebox from the door towards the flues in the front. Down again and I started piling up a huge stack of kindling I'd split. I looked at it and frowned, knowing I'd need more so I set about splitting that, when I heard the animals start quibbling. I walked forward and leaned against the front wheel of the engine as I saw a little grocery-getter bumping its way up the farm lane.

I fished my watch out of my overalls and saw it was close to eight and figured that must be Zack. Sure enough, the little car buzzed up and upon seeing me he pulled up in front of the Quonset. "Hi there, Mr. Peters." Zack smiled, then looked up at the somewhat impressive piece of iron I was leaning against. "Wow... is like... all this yours?" He asked, looking around.

I laughed. "Yes, Zack. It is... a lot of years and a lot of work, but it is. And a fair bit of luck, too."

"You must be like a millionaire or something, huh?" Zack certainly was agag at it all.

I chuckled. "Well, maybe. Anyway..." I looked Zack up and down. Well, his jeans were a little shredded, but not enough that he'd have a problem. His t-shirt was worn but without holes and fit fairly closely. He had a ballcap on advertising a local company, but at least his hair wouldn't get in the way of moving equipment. "Was just getting started on waking up this old girl. You ready for some work?"

"Sure, Mr. Peters. But...." He looked around. "I don't know anything about this kind of stuff."

I smiled. "That's alright. You can always learn. Besides, it's not like I expect you to take the throttle right off. Also, apart from real stupid mistakes, steam engines are very forgiving of stupidity. They were built for use by people who didn't know how to read, or barely knew how. And to be maintained with a monkey wrench and a ball-pein hammer. No fancy tools, just ingenuity and practice."

Zack started looking the engine over as I went back to splitting various sized kindling. "So... like.... all this stuff in here is yours?"

I nodded and leaned on the ax handle for a moment. "Yep. Collected over the years, or I built myself."

"WOW... " Zack exclaimed as he peeked under the cover of my old Chevy truck in the back corner. "How old is that?"

"Well, I don't rightly know. You see, from 1941 to 1946, they kept the same body style because World War II had production limited, so... it was built somewhere between those two years, but not '43, '44, or '45 because those were strictly military production vehicles unless you had a special order from the government. This doesn't have the tag that would have denoted that it was a special production." I said in between ax swings.

"Wow... and... all this stuff is like... ancient!" Zack exclaimed.

I couldn't help but laugh. "No... it's all old. Well..." I looked around, pondering. "Yeah... just about everything in here is more than 50 years old, apart from some small stuff. But that doesn't make it ancient. Just old, used, well-cared-for, and built to last. Not like most stuff these days."

I started loading some more split kindling up onto the deck, then started making some splits of hardwood - mostly maple - to go with the softwood kindling to help get the fire more long-lasting. Naturally the hardwood was more difficult to split, but the ax was sharp - thanks to my whetstone - and apart from trying to work around some knots it carved up quarter after quarter of the maple chunks.

"Why are you doing that, Mr. Peters?" Zack asked after finishing his visual tour of the shed.

"Well, the proper way to build a fire is to start with some light combustible material. In the wild you'd use grass clumps or shavings whittled from thick pieces of softwood. Then you start with kindling about as thick as your thumb if it's split, as big as your pinky finger if it's stick - round - wood. And then you work up more and more until you're firing with large pieces of split wood like the quarter-split I'm knocking apart for the kindling. It takes awhile but it builds you a good fire rather than having something spotty and sooty like you'd have if you just fired big stuff and doused it with some accellerant like diesel fuel." I chatted as I knocked apart another piece of pine.

"Wow, so... you know a lot about this kinda stuff, huh?" Zack asked, craning his neck to see the controls high up on the operator's platform.

"You can climb up there if you want, Zack. Nothing's hot yet. And yes... I've been playing on this kind of stuff since I was about half your age, so I've come to know a lot of it like second nature. If you're around something long enough and paying any kind of attention at all, you'll pick up a lot of information just by being there when different things happen." I smiled.

"I guess that makes sense. So... what's all these handles and stuff do?" Zack asked, looking around. "This thing is really big."

I chuckled. "It's not that big, Zack. Compared to your car, yes, it's big. But this is only a 65 horse Case, up against one of the big 110-horse Cases, this would look like a pickup truck compared to a semi. And they even made one size bigger still, the 150-horse road locomotives, but none exist anymore, only thing left is the boiler from one."

"Wow..." Zack said, as I finished splitting wood, at least for the time being.

"Well, any moving steam engine is small. It has to be to fit on the road along with its boiler and all the stuff that goes along with it. Stationary engines, like in the powerhouse, got a whole lot bigger." I got on the deck and started arranging kindling atop the paper pile. "The Corliss generator engine in the powerhouse is actually a very small one, in industrial terms. It's only 85 horsepower with a 10-foot flywheel. Now, that's pretty big by modern standards, but it's simply tiny by 19-teens standards. One of the engines I've worked on in the past had a 40 foot flywheel, made in 12 sections, and was 80 tons in rotary motion - that's the flywheel, axle, and hubs on either end. 120 tons for the machine entirely and it put out 1100 horsepower at operating speeds."

I could see Zack trying to picture those dimensions in his head... then looked at me as though I were pulling his leg. I chuckled. "Yeah, it'd barely fit in the powerhouse and is terribly powerful. But even that was one of the "medium sized" engines the plant had that it was salvaged from. They had another the same size, two bigger, and one smaller."

Zack's eyes grew wide. "Wow, and you like... actually ran it?"

I nodded. "Somewhat. It's not like a locomotive or traction engine that there's a lot to do once it's working. On a stationary engine, apart from keeping it lubricated, there's not much to do except at starting and stopping."

Zack thought about that for a bit. "I guess that makes sense."

I smiled. "Mind getting the steam engine keys out of the toolbox on that side?" I asked Zack.

He nodded and after looking at it a bit, figured how to lift the hasp and that the wooden seat that formed the top of the toolbox was hinged. He looked inside. "Uh, Mr Peters? There's no keys in here. There's some wrenches, a tub of grease, and a box of matches."

"The matches are what I'm after. It's how you start a steam engine... like how a key starts a car. Only thing is they're one-use keys." I winked and Zack smiled.

He scooted a bit further back on the deck and watched as I lit off the newspaper and after a bit began putting the kindling bits this way and that as things caught fire and began to burn on their own.

"How do you know what way to put them?" Zack asked.

"I take it you've never built a campfire or anything, huh?" I asked Zack, who shook his head. "Oh... well..." I put a few more pieces in and with my other hand laid out some in a crisscross pattern on the deck. "You want to have the wood as much in this type of pattern as possible - at least that's how I do it. That's called a crisscross fire. There's different types... teepee, crisscross, et cetera. When you have sticks bundled together tightly... sticks, splits, quarters or logs... there isn't much space for the air and fire to get to the ones above it. The fire has to follow where the air goes so it'll burn, and the more surface you can expose to the fire, the faster it'll catch off. The type of wood you use too makes a difference. Softwoods will burn hot and fast, and catch on quickly. Hardwoods burn slower because they have more energy, for a long, steady fire, but it also takes them longer to catch on fire. So that's why there's a combination." I looked back and stacked some more bits, setting in some of the thicker flat pieces as well. "Just what piece goes where is a matter of guesswork and experience. Once you get softwood like pine started burning, you can add thinner hardwoods to keep the fire going. You don't really need to get it hot very fast in a boiler like you'd want to in a woodstove. When it's cold you want to warm up as quickly as possible, so you just use softwood and fire heavily. With this old girl, there's a couple thousand gallons of water waiting to get heated up, so we can just take our time with it. That's also easier on the boiler, so the flues don't start leaking from temperature distortion."

Zack was just sitting there, watching the fire growing and soaking in the information. I chuckled softly and watched the fire growing, putting pieces this way and that as it got bigger and bigger. "Ever manage an ax, Zack?" I asked.

Zack again shook his head. I had to chuckle as I guess he'd grown up as a "townie" without much exposure to things beyond the mall.

"Well, I'm going to need some more. How about you take these..." I handed him my gloves. "... so you don't get blisters. Watch your feet, and take some of those lighter wood chunks and try to split them apart. Make sure not to swing the ax towards any metal objects or your feet. It's very sharp and it'll split bone just like it'll split wood."

Zack looked a bit worried and took the gloves. "Are you sure this is alright, Mr. Peters?"

"Were you watching how I was doing it?" I asked him.

"Not really." Zack confessed. I looked at the fire and added a rather light quarter of pine to the top of the pile, figuring it had enough energy to light that off, then got down. I set a quarter on the ground, digging it in a bit. "Select which side you want up. The flatter the surface on the bottom, the easier it'll be so you don't slice something you're not expecting to. Never swing at an angle unless you're completely clear of anything because the ax can slip and the momentum carry it somewhere else."

I didn't take a full swing, but merely from shoulder height, and the piece split somewhat. "Swing from as high as you feel comfortable. The ax shouldn't stick tight in a log since this is just pine here, this lighter stuff. The wood will want to split with the grain, so even if you get it wedged, just pick the whole mess up and thump it down again, like this..." I showed him, and the ax went further down the piece. "If it's close to the end, you can try this..." I tipped the piece over, put my boot against the bottom piece and lifted the top piece, which came away with they typical cracking sound as the wood split completely.

"Think you got it now?" I asked.

Zack nodded. "And to get the smaller pieces?"

"You do the exact same thing, until the pieces get too small to stand up on their own or with a bit of bracing from other split pieces. Don't try splitting kindling just yet, because you'd likely slice your hands with the ax. In a bit you'll become reasonably proficient with it. Just make sure you have the head straight on with the log so you don't ricochet it off into your leg or somewhere else." I smiled and handed Zack the ax, then climbed back onto the deck, sitting where I could watch both the fire and the student.

Soon enough he'd clobbered apart enough pine pieces for what I was doing, and he stacked them on the deck when I asked him to. "Now, try doing the same with some of the heavier pieces. But select ones that have straighter grain, and no little branches sticking out of them. The ax will split along the grain of the tree, but it won't chop off branches and knots in the same way because the grain changes direction. If you come to heavy knots or little branch stubs, either change your working surface on that piece, or start in on another one that doesn't have the knots."

Zack nodded and started in on a couple good chunks of maple with gusto, succeeding in splitting them down fairly quickly. I was feeding the fire, which was coming along nicely, and soon it was ready for quarter-split pine chunks alone, without necessarily needing more smaller fuel. I started feeding those from the box itself and then occasionally threw in a heavier maple block as well, to get those started. Smoke had been pouring out of the chimney and curling down around the cast surface for a bit when we'd first started things, but with the warmth of the fire causing a natural draft through the flues, it was now climbing into the air without any issue and soon enough we'd had enough little stuff in it, and enough smaller slabwood so Zack took a rest. "Wow... that... seemed like a lot of work." Zack said, panting a little bit and sitting on the narrow step at the back of the deck.

"Well, kind of. It's not really that much when you think about it, but it's enough to make you sweat, that's for sure." I chuckled and shut the firedoor after throwing in a couple more chunks. There wasn't any reading on the pressure gauge just yet, and I leaned over the fireman's side to see the water glass, which was pretty full, just what I'd expect from having it full of cold water enough to cover the flues and crown sheet earlier.

"So... what do we do now?" Zack asked.

"Well... " I fished out my watch, and it was a quarter to 9. Chet should be showing up fairly soon, so he'd be able to take over watching the fire and I'd be able to get the oil from the shop. I kept it in there since the shop was heated all winter so the steam oil wouldn't separate out from some components freezing over winter. "... I think we'll just sit and wait here for a bit. When Chet gets here he can watch the fire while I get something from the shop, and you can see the cats."

"Oh! Ok, Mr. Peters." Zack perked up at that. It seemed as though he wanted things to happen faster, but he'd eventually learn that with steam equipment, little but frequent changes goes a lot further than making big adjustments and then struggle trying to get everything back in balance when reactions happen faster than you can manage them.

I checked the progress of the fire, threw in a couple more splits here and there to keep things progressing, then shut the firedoor again and started rummaging around in the toolbox in the driver's seat. Zack was watching and looked to me with a curious expression. I didn't answer his unspoken question right away, but found the hook I was looking for, grabbed the heavy monkey wrench from the box, and hooked it on the cord for the smaller mill whistle, causing the valve to be held open.

"Why are you doing that, Mr. Peters?" Zack asked.

I chuckled. "Well, we're just starting to heat up the water, so there's no real steam being generated, and this water is fresh from the well, so there's a lot of entrained air in the water that's going to be percolating out before it gets boiling. This will just let the boiler vent to atmosphere - generate no pressure - until all the water gets heated up enough that it does start boiling."

"But don't you want it to build up pressure so it can go?" Zack asked.

I nodded. "Yes, sort of. When you first start up a steam boiler, you're trying to get all the water raised to a temperature at which it will boil. You might remember from science class that water will boil to steam in a vacuum using no heat. The inverse is also true, in that the greater the pressure the water is under, the more the heat that must be applied to boil the water to turn it into steam. We're just starting up so it's just simpler to open up a valve - be it the blower valve or the whistle - to let off any small amounts of pressure that may be generated from the water expanding in volume as it's heated, the little bit that may boil off right at the metal surfaces that the fire heats, or the air that the water releases, so that we don't have to heat the water as much right now to get the boiler up to pressure. After a time when steam starts coming out in a stream, indicating that all the water is boiling, then someone will take the weight off the cord and allow the whistle valve to shut, bottling up the steam and soon the old girl will be ready to head out."

Zack listened intently and nodded "Oh, huh.... ok, Mr. Peters. I guess that makes sense to me. You sure know a lot more than me about this stuff."

I chuckled and began checking to see that all the pipe plugs and fittings were in place on the water-supply system, Zack's question reminding me to do so. "Well, just like with the cats and the zoo, there's always more to learn. I know a lot because I've been around it a lot. If you hang around me and Chet you'll come to know a lot, too. Or hang around Jerry with the bears, or Cindy with the giraffes... or Sam with the wolves."

Zack noticed me looking all around. "Something wrong, Mr. Peters?" he asked.

"No, I'm just checking to make sure I put the piping for the injectors back together correctly last night when I buttoned her up and filled the boiler and tanks." I answered, leaning over the fireman's side to check the forward pipes. I dropped down to the ground and walked forward, checking that both the injector and feedwater pump head valves were open.

"There's sure a lot of pipes and valves..." Zack said, looking at the "plumber's nightmare" cluster of pipes for the two injectors.

I chuckled a bit. "Kindasorta, Zack. You'll get the hang of it. An injector has a water intake pipe, steam inlet pipe, water outflow pipe and an overflow pipe back to the tank. There's two injectors on this engine. The pump has a water intake pipe, and an outflow pipe which branches, one branch heading forward into the boiler and the other heading back to the tank as a bypass. The bypass has a shut-off valve so the pump can pump water into the boiler only when wanted when the engine is running. It's all very simple once you come to understand how it all works, so don't let it fool you. And the only complicated thing about the pipework is when it comes to replacing parts or fitting new ones that are a slightly different size."

Zack looked over the drive wheel down at me. "You make it sound real easy...."

I nodded up at him. "It is, relatively speaking. It's all just a matter of knowing what you're doing, knowing what needs doing, and knowing when, or when not to, do something. There's always ways to mess up, but there's nearly always a way to correct the problem before it becomes a bigger problem. And then you know how to avoid that particular problem the next time. Kinda like working with big cats... you learn a lot from talking to others and watching others, but when it comes time to do things all by yourself, you'll have to find what works for you in the situations you're in and base it on what you've learned from others. No two runs with a steam engine are exactly the same, even with the same engine and the same conditions. So... you have to be somewhat flexible and adaptable to change with what the situations require, just like no two days are exactly the same when working with cats."

Zack nodded and then we heard howling and roars announcing something out of the norm going on. I walked forward and stood just outside the Quonset doors. Sure enough, there was a blue Dodge truck coming down the road, followed by a black truck. I guess both Chet and Paul were on their way for a visit.

"What is it?" Zack asked as the animal sounds continued.

I smiled back to him. "Our relief has arrived. Chet's on his way up, and so is my neighbor that has the pigs in my barn and barnyard."

"Oh." Zack said, somewhat confusedly. Perhaps he didn't quite understand what I meant. Oh well.

Paul pulled his truck down by the barnyard gate, about 100 feet or so to the north of where I was standing at the Quonset doors, and waved to me as I leaned up against the front wheel of the Case.

"Gonna be making some noise, Jim?" he hollered up to me as Chet pulled his truck alongside my Blazer by the garage.

"We'll see. Planning on taking her into town and causing a bit of a ruckus there!" I hollered back with a smile. By now Chet was out of his truck and must have heard part of the conversation as he started our way and soon was rounding the corner of the old piggery and nodded to Paul as he passed. Paul started my way as well, seeing there was more than just me about.

"Chet Malin, this is Paul Mitchell... he has the farm down the road and these are his hogs here. Paul, Chet Malin, powerhouse chief at the zoo." I made the introductions.

"Nice to meet you, Chet." Paul said in his husky voice, holding out a work-worn hand in greeting.

Chet grabbed it and pumped enthusiastically. "Nice to meet you as well." Chet then looked up at Zack. "You learnin' lots up there, kid?" He chuckled and smiled.

"Well, I dunno, Mr. Malin. I guess I am." Zack said in honest response.

"Well, you listen to this silly bastard here, kid..." Paul said, thumbpointing to me, "... and you'll do well for yerself. He's the only feller I know his age what has all this and doesn't share it with the bank!"

I smacked Paul's shoulder. "Daffy bastard!"

Chet laughed as Paul fake-punched me in the side. "Wish I could join you boys, but the missus wants to go shopping. Maybe I'll see you in town later," Paul said.

"How's your youngest boy doing, Paul? Haven't caught you for awhile." I inquired.

"Oh, he's doin' fair enough. Got his leg out of the cast week ago last thursday. That'll teach him to take dares from little Robbie Perkins, though. But.... I can't complain 'bout it too much. I was the same way when I was his age. Only with me it was nearly getting clobbered by old man Franklin's prized stallion. You remember him, don't you, Jim?" Paul said in his normal stream of commentary.

I nodded. "Yeah, that black and white one he always kept out front. I remember, though by the time I was around here it was looking rather ratty."

"Well, he wasn't that ratty when he cracked three of my ribs that summer... but, oh well. Ritchie won't be jumping off gravity boxes anytime soon, I'm sure. Though I wouldn't doubt next time it's a hayloft!" Paul cracked a smile through his couple-day beard stubble.

I winked. "Well, boys will be boys. I never did that sort of thing, but then again I was inside reading a lot rather than outside getting into trouble."

Paul and Chet both laughed at that. "That makes sense for you," Chet said.

"Yeah, that'd figure. That's how come you got me beat four ways from Friday. Anyhow, I better get the bacon fed and back home so I can clean up to head to town." Paul said.

"Your kids going with you two, or they staying home?" I asked as Paul started back down towards the barn.

"Stayin' home. Why?" Paul looked curious.

I smiled. "Tell them if they're wanting a fun time, to come out when they hear me whistle for them, ok? Got something cooking in town, literally, and they're welcome to join in. My treat."

Paul tucked his ballcap back a bit and scratched his head. "Well, ok. Don't know if they'd be wanting to. You know how Bud is with those durn video game things. I swear he probably wiggles his hands in his sleep! But I'll tell them anyway. Ritchie might want to go. You know how he's always wanting to find new ways of getting hurt!" Paul chuckled and smiled.

"No problem either way, Paul. We'll end up over at the fire station. Lew's going to let the boys know we're coming so some of them will probably show up for an unofficial meeting... you know how they are." I winked.

Paul waved as he headed back. "Yeah... them and their well-stocked beer fridge! Ok, I'll see you down there when Barb gets done bleeding me dry!"

Chet looked to me. "Nice fellow. Known him long?"

I nodded. "He's sort of a very distant relative of mine on my mother's side. Nice fellow, though, yeah. Fifth or sixth generation farmer. We'll see if any of his boys take it on when he's ready to hang it up. Bud probably won't, but Ritchie seems about right for it all. Just enough spunk to get into some trouble, but enough brains to avoid the real trouble."

"Ah... yeah, I've seen that sort of thing before," Chet said, nodding sagely.

"Anyhow... Chet, mind keeping an eye on the fire? I have to get the Green Velvet from the shop, and Zack here's been wanting to see the cats since he learned I had some." I smiled at the powerhouse chief.

"What? You mean I don't get a tour, too?" Chet smiled broadly in jest.

I thought for a moment. "Well, a quickie for you... oh! Hm...." I furrowed my brow and thought for a bit longer. Then I saw Julie come out of the house heading over this way. "Well, that solves that problem some."

Chet looked at me confused, and then turned to see Julie coming across the lawn by the piggery shed. "Oh... ok." He smiled.

I turned around. "Zack, how does that fire look?"

Zack ducked out of sight and I heard the clank of the firedoor latch. "I think it needs some more wood, Mr. Peters" I heard from behind the backhead.

"Well, where it's just glowing coals, throw some more chunks on of light wood. Where there's light wood that's burning throw some heavy hardwood on. We'll start her on coal when I get back." I said in a voice loud enough for him to hear.

I mentally counted the thunks as he chose pieces from the hopper boxes and tossed them onto the fire, which from the sounds and heat from the boiler must be well on its way. The smoke was heading straight up from the stack now and that meant there was enough heat in the front end for the convection current to be formed... I checked my watch and it was only quarter after 9, so we were well on our way and only about an hour into it. In another hour we should be ready to roll if everything worked well.

Julie walked up just as I heard Zack latch the firedoor. "Hi Chet. Hi dear..." she smiled and I gave her a hug and kissed her cheek. "So... things going as planned?" she asked.

"Sort of... would you mind if I had you watch the fire in this? Zack just threw in some more wood so it should be good for a while, but it's best to have someone right on the engine at all times, just in case something happens." I smiled lovingly at Julie.

"Well, I.... wouldn't know what to do, Jim. I've never.... even seen one of these work before." Julie looked worried and I kissed her forehead.

"It'll be alright. Just make sure the fire doesn't go out, which it shouldn't... and nothing starts hissing or cracking besides the wood in the firebox." I handed her my gloves from my back pocket. "Here, that firedoor handle is going to start getting pretty hot for your hands if you check on it. I'm just going to show Zack and Chet the cats, and have them set up something. Ok?"

Julie smiled and nodded. "Ok, dear. You know better about these things than I do. So... just check the fire every so often and add wood if I think it needs it?" Julie seemed uncertain.

I just nodded. "That's the idea, yep. You'll do fine."

Julie headed back towards the rear of the engine, and Zack helped her up to the deck. Zack then dropped down and came over to where Chet and I were still standing. "Thanks, Julie, I'll be back in a little bit."

Chet, Zack and I headed off back towards the house with me leading the way. I brought them in through the woodshed, and pointed to the work tractor. "Chet, think you could drive that?" I asked.

We walked over and Chet looked at it. "Yeah, shouldn't be a problem. Why?" he inquired cursorily.

I nodded towards the woodpile. "We're going to need a bit more of that, mixed woods, and there's a wagon I need moved and set up to head into town that's behind the sawmill building. I don't want to leave Julie too long watching the engine, and you and Zack seemed to work well yesterday so I figured you two could work at setting that up for me, and loading about a half bucket of wood to take over as well."

Chet laughed. "Day off from work and I'm working again."

I shrugged. "Though you have to admit, you don't get free food at work... but... you won't be napping today, either. So I guess it's a break-even."

Chet play-punched my shoulder. "Shh... the kid don't know about my office siestas."

Zack smiled as we turned and headed into the main part of the buildings. I unlocked the hall door and let them in, Zack was wide-eyed as we went down the hall, past the vet room, and I unlocked the door to the machine shed. The brothers came up to the cage bars, then backed away a bit and growled as they warily eyed the unfamiliar people. "Those two are Larry and Terry. They answer to their names so it's no biggie trying to figure out who's who. And these..." I moved on as Jasmine started strafing the barrier, demanding attention. "Are Hercules, Xena, and their mother Jasmine." I pointed out each cat in turn.

"Wow....." Zack said as we came to a stop.

Chet laughed. "You and your cats... I'm guessing they're friendly?"

I moved towards the cage bars and Jasmine stopped and sniffed my hand, then chuffed. I reached through and started scritching her. "Friendly to people they like, yes. Just be careful that you don't feed them any fingers."

Zack warily stepped forward and Jasmine turned, eyed him, and then chuffed a bit warily. He held his hand up to the bars and she sniffed it, then licked it. Jasmine chuffed again and Zack looked at me with a questioning expression.

"That means she likes you. Go ahead, it should be alright to pet her." I said, nodding.

He warily stuck his hand through the bars and she started a little when he touched her, but to his credit he didn't quickly withdraw his hand or anything, and soon she had her eyes half-closed and was rubbing along the fence wanting him to pet her all over.

Chet laughed. "Looks like ya made a friend, kid."

I stepped back and went over to the brothers, who were milling about wanting attention too. I started petting them. "Those are the ones I will probably bring to the zoo. I don't know just yet because of Jack's little snit, but... we'll see. These two... " I was muzzle-pushing one with each hand "... will just be staying here with me for the time being at least. Big goofball cats!"

Chet smiled and crossed his arms. "Quite a menagerie you got going here. Where's that other one, the one you snuck in a couple months back?"

"Cleo? She's in the house with her cubs. I'd show her to you but she might get a little defensive protecting her family and all. You know how that can be." I winked.

Chet laughed. "Defensive, me? Hell.... half the time I want to sell them to some poor sap rather than deal with them myself! But that's what the wife is for. Then again, come to think of it, half the time I want to sell her, too, but then I'd have to do everything myself, so I keep her around."

I winked at Chet and gave the brothers a parting fuzzle. "Well, I best get the Green Velvet and the grease and head back to the engine. Sure you don't mind doing wood chores, or would you rather watch the Case while I do it?"

Chet shrugged. "Don't matter much to me either way, Jim. This here's your party, and I'm just here for the burgers and beer!"

I laughed at that, since Chet knew I never had beer around. I just couldn't stand the smell of it. "Alright, no worries for me."

"What's "the Green Velvet"?" Zack asked, finally standing up from where he'd been playing with the ligers and Jasmine.

"It's a special type of oil, kid. It's for steam engines, and it's green, so the fellow what makes it calls it "Green Velvet"." Chet said, before I could answer.

"Oh... But... then... why don't you keep it in that shed with the steam engine?" Zack looked at me, somewhat confused.

"It's made with a biological content, Zack. Basically filtered animal fat. But since it's made that way it'll freeze and the parts of it will separate out, and some parts go bad when they get frozen, so you keep it in a heated place. Chet has some at the powerhouse, but that's always warm, summer and winter, so it's no big deal. But for me out here, only the house and this shop and office area are heated in the winter, so that's where I keep mine." I smiled.

"Oh. Ok, that makes sense." Zack smiled. "Can I stay here a bit longer, Mr. Peters?"

I laughed and nodded. "No problem, Zack. I'll be right back then."

Chet and I headed out to the shop and I flipped on the lights.

"Wow... better than I remember it, Jim. No wonder you're so much at home back in the powerhouse when I need something made up special." Chet chuckled as I went over to the corner and got out an old locomotive oil pot. I unscrewed the lid and checked the level of the contents, then went over to the barrel rack and held it under one spout when I pushed the tap plunger. Green syrup started slowly pouring out of the small 30-gallon barrel into the black oilpot.

"Well, keeps me busy. Besides... you know how handy a machine shop is when you're making up parts for this or that. You'd be surprised how stunned some folks are when you custom make them some doodad they couldn't buy in a store. People these days are so used to buying what they need they don't seem to realize they can buy something darned close and MAKE what they really need just as easily." I chuckled as I finished filling the oil pot.

"Yeah, that's for sure. And that shop back at the zoo has really saved my bacon a time or two with m'wife. You know how she gets her panties bunched when something doesn't work at home." Chet chuckled.

"I don't know firsthand, but I've got a pretty good idea from talking with you, yes." I smiled while I grabbed a tub of JT-8 high-temperature grease and then headed back to the hall, shutting off the lights and locking the door behind me.

"Come on, Zack. Time to get to work!" I hollered down the hall towards the pens.

"What's this over here, Mr. Peters?" I heard from the other end.

"I'll start loading the tractor with wood." Chet said, thumbpointing to the door out to the woodshed.

"Hook for that door is about chest height on the right side. You can leave it open if you like because we'll need the tractor for the wagon before it goes back in." I said to Chet as he headed back through the end door of the hall. I went to see what Zack was inquiring about.

I walked out into the machine shed and Zack was standing in the corner next to the big diesel-oil drum I had for the tractor. "What's with these barrels with... wheels on them?" Zack asked, pointing to the collection of 55-gallon drums lined up along the wall in the corner, each with a pair of wheels and small angle-iron frame underneath.

"Oh! I'd nearly forgotten about those. They're a kiddy-ride I picked up years ago when I was touring." I smiled and set down one of the drums onto its wheels, revealing a small seat set within the drum, a big swash cut out of the side to form a bit of a cockpit-like environment for a kid, complete with steering wheel and knobs.

"So, how's it work?" Zack asked.

"Well, it's sort of a train, and this..." I walked over to a well-dusted tarp and pulled it back, "... is the locomotive, sort of."

"Wow, that's... that's like ancient, isn't it?" Zack smiled.

"Naw, it's just made to look that way." I smiled. It was a McCormick-Deering Model M hit-and-miss engine mounted on framework made up to look like an old Rumley Oil-Pull kerosene tractor. Whoever made it did a real good job with fabricating the parts emulating the larger putt-bang cousin.

"Does it work?" Zack asked.

I furrowed my brow and rubbed the back of my neck, thinking for a bit. Julie, Chet, Zack, and myself... hm... Chet and I could run the Case, Julie and I could do the cooking, Zack could help out wherever, and if any of Lew's boys showed up, they could cook too. Most of the fire crew prided themselves at their grill skills. It would add something more to do... and I already figured it'd be a good day...