Wrong-Way Ray

There once was a boy named Ray

Who ran around town every day

Playing hot in the sun

Is that proper fun?

So they gave him a nickname that stayed

And all the kids that day

Called him Wrong-Way Ray

Ray liked to ride his bike

Along with friends Will and Mike

But different than Will

Ray loved to pedal uphill

Which his bike-riding pals did not like

Ray always waved to Ms. Pence

Who sat ’neath her tree on a bench

He never knocked down

All her flowers around

But once helped to paint her white fence

Ray liked all dogs and cats

Rubbing their tummies and scratching their backs

He didn’t taunt them or tease

Or tempt them with cheese

And the animals liked Ray back

Ray knew Fire Chief Gene

Often watching him work on Big Number Fourteen

But while others played ball

Ray hung out in the stall

And helped keep the fire trucks clean

And all the kids they did say

That’s just Wrong-Way Ray

Then one Sunday after church

A fire broke out near First and Birch

Phone lines were crossed

Electricity lost

And townsfolk were left in the lurch

No one knew quite what to do

Scratching their heads and staring at shoes

Intersections were blocked

No lights, no clocks

And cars stretched to Timbuktu

Suddenly an idea came to Ray

So he mounted his bike without delay

With no time to waste

He left posthaste

And quickly pedaled away

Up the hill

Fast, not slow

Ray traveled a path no car could go

Over the fence

Fast, not slow

Ray took a shortcut only he would know

Through the yard

Fast, not slow

Ray took a way only a kind boy could go

Into the station

Fast, not slow

Ray entered a place only a smart boy would know

And there stood Fire Chief Gene

Ray told him in detail all he had seen

About fire and lights

And confusion and fright

Oh, my! What a crazy scene!

Well, Fire Chief Gene knew just what to do

Sounding the alarm, he gathered his crew

Quick on their feet

Fourteen hit the street

And swiftly roared out of view

The chief took his men round and about

Reaching town’s center by a different route

With hard work and skill

Plus muscle and zeal

They soon had the fire put out

One week later at the end of May

Ray was honored on a special day

Because so bold

He earned a medal of gold

And praise for his quick-thinking ways

All of Ray’s friends were gathered about

When he got his award, they let out a shout

Feeling sorrow and shame

They took back the nickname

For Ray was not wrong, no doubt!

In everyone’s eyes, he’s now just Ray

The kind, happy boy who once saved the day

He still runs around

All over town

And all agree it’s the best way to play

(Plus . . . the townsfolk feel safer that way!)

The End

Wrong-Way Ray. Copyright 2020 Ron Baxendale II