My five year old brother, intrigued by fire fighters and fire trucks, decided he wanted to make fire fighting his career. His birthday present that year was a bright red tricycle and a make-believe fireman's shiny silver helmet. He seemed to get bored in our backyard after a few days of riding his tricycle around in circles. There was a time that I followed my brother every where he went and did every thing he said, that is what lead to my holding his tricycle steady so that he could reach the gate latch, this gave him access to his front yard.

Since the front yard did not have a fence we were not allowed to play there because we could run into the street where there was traffic, but I tagged after my brother from the back yard out front onto the sidewalk. He rode his tricycle half a block down the street, careful to stay on the sidewalk. I took off after him, as I usually did.

We reached his destination in about six minutes, which turned out to be the tall red fire alarm street box, that resembled a mailbox. Even if I don't know the exact height, I know that the old street boxes were taller than the average four or five year old child. Only my brother had figured everything out, and I was a pawn in his plan.

He stopped at the street box, smiled sweetly, and asked if I would like to borrow his shiny silver helmet. I was convinced that he was just planning to say no again for the hundredth time even though (or because) I had been begging to put it on as soon as he had unwrapped it a few days before on his birthday. I decided to borrow the helmet and give it a shot after all. My brother told me I could, but only if I did what he'd done a few minutes ago at the gate to the front yard. He would steady the tricycle. All I had to do was to stand on the seat, reach up and push the yellow button on the street box. I climbed onto the saddle after I put on the helmet.

It was simple. I pushed the button, then quickly returned to the sidewalk, holding on tight to my helmet so he couldn't grab it. I was surprised that he didn't even go for the helmet at all. He decided to race back home as quickly as possible instead. I ran after him, happy to be wearing the helmet.

Back in front of the house, he got off the tricycle and sat down on the sidewalk to wait. I patiently waited as well, while I wasn't sure just why we had to wait. When he heard the fire sirens, my brothers face lit up and he sat up straighter. He jumped up from the sidewalk, running as fast as he could for the front door once he saw the red fire truck come speeding around the corner.

I was wondering why the fireman coming towards me looked so angry, but then I realized I was sitting next to the red tricycle, wearing a fireman's helmet.