Christopher Desoto silently berated himself, as he lay wide-awake in his bed.  The ten-year-old tossed and turned all night long.  The first rays of dawn’s early light were just beginning to seep through his window and he knew that it wouldn’t be long before he’d hear his father get up.  He knew that he should apologize for his behavior the night before, but he wasn’t ready to just yet.  Anger still clouded the better part of his judgment and he just didn’t know how.

He’d been steaming for days, and last night he had finally erupted, and it wasn’t a pretty sight.  If truth be told, he felt stupid for the whole situation.  He knew it wasn’t really his father’s fault, but sometimes he just wished that his father had a regular old nine to five job like Jimmy’s dad.  Jimmy’s dad sold insurance and he was always home at 5:30 and he was in the stands at every one of Jimmy’s baseball games.  He wished he could say the same for his father.  He figured he could go back and count on one hand how many games his dad had attended this year.  All right, maybe on two hands because his father did come if he was off duty, but this week had been a big game and his father hadn’t been there.

Earlier in the week, Chris’ team, who was currently in second place in the standings, was competing against the first place team.  As usual, Chris’ dad was scheduled to work but had promised to try to stop in if things weren’t busy around the station.  Chris’ father, Roy, was a firefighter/paramedic with the Los Angeles County Fire Department.  Chris remembered standing in centerfield and using his hand to shield his eyes from the sun as he scanned the crowd.  He did that each inning as soon as he took the field.  His mom, Joanne, and his sister, Jennifer, were there.  And, of course, Jimmy’s mom and dad were there, too, but the person that he’d hoped most to see wasn’t.  He’d been looking for the red rescue squad to pull into the parking lot, but it never came.

As he lay quietly in his bed, he let his mind drift back to the game.  His team was up by one run and the bases were loaded and with two outs.  Chris was playing centerfield as he usually did.  He wanted to be in the infield at shortstop but his coach always stuck him in the outfield because he said Chris was fast and had a strong arm.  All Chris knew was that it was pretty boring being in the outfield.  Hardly anyone ever hit the ball that far and he ended up just standing around watching the action on the infield. 

He saw his pitcher ready himself and Chris called out “sit ‘im down, Mark,” as the pitcher wound up.

He heard the crack of the bat and knew that it was a hard hit.  He heard his teammates calling his name and looked up to see the ball sailing his way.  He started back tracking when he realized that the ball was going be over his head.  He followed it with his eyes and realizing that he wasn’t going to get there in time, he dove and stuck his glove out.  He felt rather than saw the ball land in his glove, squeezed the glove shut and held on until he stopped sliding through the grass.  Realizing that he’d caught the third out, he rolled over and thrust his glove in the air.  Cheers went up from the crowd of spectators on the third base side of the field.  Before he could even get to his feet his buddies were there, jumping on top of him and then finally hoisting him into the air and carrying him to the bench.  It was the best feeling in the world until he remembered that his father hadn’t been there to see it.

He downplayed the incident as if it were no big deal when his father called later that night to explain that the whole station had been called out and apologized for not being able to get to the game.

“Whatever,” was all he’d said in return and when his father asked him to tell him about the catch, Chris replied that he had to get in the shower and handed the phone back to his mother.  In his mind, he added it to the list of other significant events that his father hadn’t been around for.  He didn’t know when he had started keeping track of them or even why, but he could name them off without batting an eye.

The sound of a door creaking brought Chris back to the present and he realized that his father was moving about.  It was the early hours of a Saturday morning and his father had to work.  It was also the beginning of the play-offs today.  Chris listened as the water in the shower came on and knew that his father was always careful not to wake them, but no matter how careful he was, no matter how soft his footsteps, Chris always heard him.  He also heard his mother as she padded down the hallway on her way to make coffee.  He’d heard his father tell her on many occasions that she didn’t have to get up, didn’t have to make him breakfast, but she always did.  Chris knew that his mom was really proud of her husband.  Every once in a while, she would get a call from the hospital and he knew that she’d be upset, until his dad would come home, kiss her and tell her it was nothing.  This was why she liked to get up and make breakfast for him.  Sometimes, he just ate a bowl of cereal but she still got up and sat with him.

Every time his dad left for work, he’d stop by his room and his sister’s.  If they were awake, and Chris usually was, he’d give them a hug and kiss the top of their heads.  He’d done it for as long as Chris could remember.  Today when his father came to his room, Chris feigned sleep.  He lay still facing away from the door and kept his eyes closed.  He heard his father approach and knew he was trying to judge whether Chris was really sleeping or not.  Chris heard a soft sigh and felt his father place a soft kiss on his head. 

“I’m sorry, Son,” he heard his father whisper before he left the room.

Chris turned onto his back and stared at the ceiling.  He felt like a jerk and he knew that he’d hurt his father deeply for the things he’d said to him last night.  His father had taught him to always be respectful of people, but he hadn’t shown any respect to his father last night. 

His mother often told him to think before he spoke because once something was said you couldn’t take it back.  You could apologize for saying it, but you could never take it back.  He knew now how truthful that statement was and he didn’t know what to do about it.

 ~*~*~

“Hey, Roy,” Johnny called out as he entered the locker room. 

Roy looked up at his partner and mumbled a weak, “hey”. 

Johnny dropped his gym bag on the floor in front of his locker before pulling the door open.  “Man, you wouldn’t believe the date I had last night,” he said as he kicked his shoes off.  “This girl was gorgeous.  I mean absolutely gorgeous, Roy.”  He undid the button on his jeans and slid them down over his slim hips.  “I met her in the park on Thursday and I can’t believe she said she’d go out me,” he continued not missing a stride as he continued to change from his civilian clothes into his uniform.

“I can’t believe any chick would agree to go out with you,” Chet cracked as he came into the room.

“Shut-up, Chet. Roy and I were having a conversation, not you,” Johnny countered immediately.

Chet shook his head as he looked at Roy.  “Looks to me like you were the only one conversing, Gage,” he said looking back at Johnny.  “I don’t even think Roy knows you’re here.”

“Of course he knows I’m here.  Wha…,” Johnny began but turned to look at his partner.  For the first time since entering the locker room, Johnny took the time to size his friend up.  He looked, well, he looked defeated, Johnny thought.  He glanced from Roy back to Chet, who just shrugged his shoulders. 

Johnny sat down the bench next to his partner.  “Roy, you okay,” he asked tentatively.

Roy’s back straightened. “Uh, oh, yeah.  I’m fine,” he answered.

Johnny nodded his head unconvinced.  “Somethin’ on your mind, Pally,” he asked.

“We had a big blow-out at our house last night,” Roy admitted after a few moments of silence.

Johnny drew back in shock.  “Who?  You and Joanne?”

Roy shook his head.  “No, Chris, actually.”

“Chris?  Really?”

Roy nodded as he remembered Chris’ words from the night before.  Why can’t you be like other dads?  How come you’re never around when it counts? I wish Jimmy’s dad was my father.  I hate you.  He had to admit if Chris had wanted to hurt him, he couldn’t have done a better job.

“What about,” Johnny probed not knowing what the boy could have been upset about.

“Seems he was more upset about me missing his ball game on Monday than he let on,” Roy said with sigh.

Johnny sympathized with his friend.  He’d known Roy had wanted to go to the game but they’d been scheduled to work.  When Roy had mentioned stopping by the game, Johnny had been excited.  It was close to the station so they could see part of the game and still be available if a call came through.  Only that call had come through before they’d even had a chance to head over to the field and by the time they were done it was over.

“I thought you said he wasn’t mad?”

“I didn’t think he was.  Well, I knew he was a little, but, whew, last night …”

“That bad, huh?”

Roy sighed.  “He said things to me that I never would have dreamed him capable of.  I mean he’s ten years old for crying out loud.”

“Whatever he said, Roy, you know he didn’t mean them.  Chris is a good kid.”

“I know he’s a good kid.  That’s why he deserves better.  That’s why he deserves a better father.”

Johnny jumped up off the bench.  “You’ve got to be kidding me, Roy.  I can’t believe you just said that.  You’re a great father.  Better’n my old man ever was.”  He lowered himself back down on the bench and looked his friend in the eye.  “He’s ten, Roy, he’s a kid who didn’t know the impact of what he was saying.”

Roy contemplated his friend’s words.  How he wished that were true but he was pretty damn sure that Chris meant exactly what he had said last night. 

It had all happened at the dinner table when Chris mentioned that the first round of the play-offs began the next day and asked if Roy was coming.

“I’m on duty, but I’ll try to swing by,” he had answered.

“Yeah, so I guess that’s a no,” Chris responded.

“No, it means that I’ll try,” Roy replied.

“Just like you tried on Monday, right,” came the snide reply.

“Chris,” Joanne warned.

“What?  It’s true.  He wasn’t there on Monday.  He wasn’t there for my camping trip when I got my new badge.  He wasn’t there when I was in the spelling bee…”

“Chris, you know your dad can’t just call out every time something comes up,” Joanne said intervening before things got out of control.  “He has responsibilities.”

“What about his responsibilities to us.  To me.  He’s never there when I need him,” Chris shouted as he stood up.  He looked right at his father.  “Why can’t you be like other dads?  How come you’re never around when it counts? Jimmy’s dad is always there.  I wish Jimmy’s dad was my father.  I hate you.”

Joanne had been outraged and had sent Chris to his room.  Roy had given him some time before trying to talk to him but Chris wanted no parts of his father last night.  Joanne tried talking to him as well, and when Chris wouldn’t respond, she’d given him quite a lecture.

Roy shook his head to remove the image from his head.  “He’s got another game today so come hell or high water we’re stopping by.”

Johnny nodded his head hoping that it would be a quiet day and Roy would get the chance to see his kid play ball.

As if by some miracle, Station 51 was extremely slow all morning.  There had been a couple of minor runs for the paramedics and a trash fire for the engine but so far it had been relatively quiet.  They had just deposited their latest patient to the hospital and Roy looked at his watch to check the time.  Johnny made a move toward the coffee pot at the nurse’s station, but Roy quickly intervened.

“It’s almost two, Johnny, we gotta go,” he said speaking up.

“Oh, right, okay then, let’s go,” he said grabbling the HT from where he had laid it on the desk.

“Go where,” Dixie McCall asked curiously.

“Roy’s kids got a play-off game today.  We’re gonna drop by and watch a few innings,” Johnny answered as Roy had already turned for the doors.  “See ya, Dix” Johnny called out as he followed his partner outside.

“See ya, guys,” the head nurse called back.

It didn’t take them long to get to the field but the game was already underway when they arrived.

Chris stood in centerfield steaming.  He had felt terrible all morning about the things he’d said to his dad.  And his mother was more angry at him than she had ever been, which only added to his guilt.  But here it was the top of the second inning and there was Jimmy’s dad in the stands as usual and where was his father, not here, he thought.

A red blur in the parking lot caught his eye and he turned.  The sun was streaming and despite his ball cap, he had to shield his eyes from it.  For a moment, he’d thought he’d imagined the red truck, but sure enough there it was and his eyes widened when he saw the engine pull up behind it.  Both vehicles parked where they would be able to get out quickly and he saw his dad jump out of the squad.  The cheers of his teammates drew his attention back to the field.

Roy leaned against the side of the squad as his eyes searched the field for his son.  He thought about waving when he saw Chris looking at him but thought that might embarrass the boy so he decided against it. 

“What are you guys doin’ here,” he heard Johnny ask as the members of 51’s engine crew walked up.

“Heard there was going to be an exciting game here today,” Captain Hank Stanley said nonchalantly. 

Roy smiled knowingly.  His captain knew that kids loved fire engines and knew that all of the kids would be excited to see one at their game.  It was the captain’s way of lending support to one of his men.  Sure enough, the engine was soon crawling with kids that weren’t participating in the game and the engine crew was busy entertaining them.  The captain, in his infinite wisdom, knew that the kids would be talking about this for days to come and Chris’ friends would be in awe of him.

Johnny was a little miffed, as he always was, that the kids weren’t interested in the squad, but Roy was glad because he was able to watch the game.

“Daddy,” he heard his little girl call to him as she ran toward him.  Joanne was not far behind.  He lifted her in the air and planted a kiss on her cheek before lowering her back to the ground.  She giggled and ran to join her friends at the engine.

“Bringing out the big guns, are we,” Joanne asked slyly. 

Roy held up his hands.  “Wasn’t my idea,” he said, but quickly added, “though it can’t hurt.”

Joanne slipped her arms around his waist.  “You’re a good man, Roy.  A good father,” she told him.

Roy nodded, but remained silent.  He had his doubts about that, but he tried.  He knew he tried.  You can’t fault a man for trying, can you?  Looking at his son running off the field after the last out of the inning, he thought, you sure as hell can.

The game progressed quickly.  Both teams were playing well and the score was tied at 2 apiece in the top of the fourth inning.  Chris was still playing centerfield and his friend, Jimmy, was playing third base.  There was one out and a runner on third.

“Jimmy, move in,” the coach called.  “Watch for the bunt.” 

Roy watched as Jimmy took a few tentative steps forward. 

“A little more,” the coach called and the boy moved closer to home plate.  Roy knew the coach was anticipating a bunt, but Roy couldn’t help but think that Jimmy was maybe a little too close to home plate.

Roy straightened up as the pitcher released the ball.  The batter didn’t attempt a bunt, but rather swung away.  The bat connected with the ball with lightening speed and sent a line drive flying right at Jimmy.  The boy never had time to react as the ball impacted with his chest.  Roy was moving before Jimmy even reached the ground.

“Johnny, call in a still alarm,” he hollered as he threw open the squad’s compartment doors.  He didn’t wait for confirmation from his partner, he didn’t have to.  Instead he grabbed all the equipment he could and rushed toward the field.

Johnny reached for the radio but Captain Stanley hollered that he had it.  Johnny was right behind Roy as they rushed across the field.

Jimmy lay in a heap on the grass.  “Move back,” the urgently told the crowd of ball players and coaches that were surrounding the fallen boy.

Roy knelt beside him.  “No pulse,” he called out and started CPR while Johnny cut his jersey right down the middle.  They wasted no time in hooking Jimmy up to the defibrillator to get a cardiac reading. 

Johnny opened up a line to Rampart on the biophone.

“Rampart, this is Squad 51. How do you read?”

“We read you loud and clear 51,” came the voice of Dr. Kelly Brackett.

“Rampart, we have a ten-year-old boy.  Victim of blunt trauma to the chest.  We’re sending you a strip.  This will be lead two,” Johnny said and dropped the receiver into it’s cradle.

 “He’s in v-fib,” Roy hollered, as did Dr. Brackett’s voice.  He grabbed for the paddles.  Johnny spread the gel on the paddles and charged the machine.

“Clear,” Roy shouted when it was fully charged.  The crowd gasped as Jimmy’s body jerked from the electrical shock. 

“I’ve got a pulse,” Johnny said as he grabbed the phone to relate the information to the hospital.

Dr. Brackett ordered the immediate transport of the patient as soon as he was stable. 

Christopher DeSoto watched his father work on his friend.  At first, he had thought that Jimmy had just had the wind knocked out of him, but when his friend hadn’t gotten up, and Chris saw his father and Uncle Johnny tearing across the field with their equipment, he knew something was wrong.

Now as he stood silently on the side, he realized that his father and his partner were the only ones that could help his friend.  Jimmy’s mother and father clung to each other as they too stood and watched.  They were in no better position to help him than Chris was.  His friend’s life depended on the paramedics.  On his father.  Please dad, he prayed, please help Jimmy.

Some of the mothers were crying when they loaded Jimmy into the ambulance.  Chris heard his mom tell Jimmy’s parents that she would drive them to the hospital.  It all seemed like a dream to Chris.  One minute his friend had been standing there and the next he was in an ambulance on his way to the hospital.  It was scary to think that your life could change that quickly and he was glad that his father had been there.  He was glad that his father could do something to help.

“Chris,” Joanne called to him as he stood watching when Uncle Johnny slapped the back of the ambulance doors.  Tearing himself out of his stupor, he ran towards his mother’s station wagon and climbed in the back with his sister.  His mom followed the squad and the ambulance to the hospital.

Chris was awake the next morning when his dad came home from work.  Joanne made breakfast while her two “men” sat out on the front steps.  Chris had been waiting for him to come home for a long time.

Chris looked at his father’s large, rough and blistered hands.

“Jimmy might’ve died,” he said solemnly, “but you saved ‘im.”

“Prompt medical attention and the doctor’s at the hospital saved him,” Roy replied.

“But if it weren’t for you…you and Uncle Johnny…Jimmy…,” Chris turned tearful eyes to his father.  “I’m sorry, Dad,” he said throwing his arms around his father.  “I’m sorry that I said those things to you.”

Roy stroked his son’s back.  “I know, Chris.  It’s okay,” he told the distraught boy.

Chris straightened and pulled back.  “It’s not okay.  I’m glad that you don’t have a regular job.  I’m glad that you were able to help Jimmy and that you help other people, too.  And I do love you even though I said I didn’t,” he said sadly.  “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

He slipped his small hand into his father’s larger one.  He knew that those hands could save lives, had saved lives, and had saved Jimmy’s life. 

How could he have been so selfish as to wish that his father had an ordinary job when what his dad did meant more than anyone would ever know.  The people that his dad helped might have an idea, might even think they knew, but they didn’t.  They don’t know about his dad’s sacrifices.  They don’t know what Chris’ father, and others like him, are willing to sacrifice, and they do it willingly because they know how important life is.  Well, Chris knew and he was proud to be Roy DeSoto’s son.  And he’d been wrong, his father was always there when it counted most.

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