We circle the trucks. Toby names the ax, nozzle, dials, and hose. He lunges for a ladder and a fire extinguisher. We breathe in the smell of new rubber, truck tires taller than he is. I tote him back and forth between the pumpers, red one, white one, red, white.
Firefighters arrive for a shift change.
They inspect the trucks. They uncoil a hose and roll it back up. They sound the siren. They switch on the flashing lights, which flicker in Toby's eyes. They step down to coax a smile from Toby.