By Marty P.

The sun peeking over the horizon woke Johnny. He rolled over and wriggled out of his sleeping bag. Grabbing a stick, he poked the campfire until the embers sprang to life. After they showed a steady glow, he reached for his coffeepot. The wilderness always added a flavor to his food that couldn’t be found anywhere else. He dumped the grounds into the pot, added water and sat back as he gazed at the panorama before him.

What a smorgasbord nature offered in this area! The Sequoias provided a stairway to heaven; spectacular canyons presented a glimpse of what lay below the earth’s surface and raging rivers revealed the irresistible force of water. Before he left, he wanted to go for one final hike. He already planned a return trip to discover more treasures.

This was his final day of vacation. Three days ago he’d packed his gear and stopped at a filling station to top off his gas tank. Then he drove four long hours to reach the Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Parks.

The aroma of fresh coffee and his rumbling stomach brought him back to the present. He unearthed his skillet and mixed up some pancake batter. A few minutes later he inhaled the scent of his breakfast. He wolfed it down and collected his dirty dishes. When they were clean, he doused the fire. He buttoned up his favorite red shirt and pulled on the blue jeans he’d worn the day before. They looked fine to him. Then he gathered his belongings and checked the campsite to see if he’d overlooked anything. Before he left he kicked the ashes of his fire to make sure they were dead. Satisfied, he hiked to the Land Rover, unlocked it and dumped his pack behind the seat.

Johnny settled into the driver’s seat and scanned the park map. He memorized the location he wanted and turned the key in the ignition. The Land Rover sprang to life and he shifted into first gear, checked for traffic and turned onto a gravel road.

He figured it would take about half an hour to negotiate the rough terrain. Then he would find the marked trail and get in one last hike before he returned to civilization.

Johnny pulled up to a small dirt patch and parked. He shrugged on his backpack and gazed skyward. The terrain in front of him promised a challenge. From previous experience, he knew it would be worth the effort. He glanced at his watch, adjusted the bag on his back and moved forward. As the day progressed, he stopped several times to inhale the beauty surrounding him. The area was deserted.

Two hundred miles away, Chris DeSoto charged into the kitchen to answer the phone.

“Hello?” He shouted into the receiver.

“Hi Chris. This is Marco. Can I talk to your dad?”

“Dad! Phone! It’s Marco!” Chris’ yell could be heard several blocks away.

Roy pulled the earpiece away from his son. “Sorry about that Marco. How ya doin’?”

“Fine. I called to check on our plans. I just picked up the birthday cake.”

“Well, Johnny gets back into town today. He’ll probably suspect something when he comes in but we hafta take a chance.” Roy informed him.

“See ya in the morning then, Roy,” Marco concluded. They exchanged good-byes and hung up.

The afternoon had sped by. Johnny glanced at his watch. 6:00 p.m. He knew he should have stayed on the path and would be late getting back. He turned to head west but stopped when he spotted a boy waving at him frantically. He called down to him, “You need help?”

“It’s my brother. He’s trapped!” He looked relieved to see an adult.

Johnny made his way to the child’s side. He wore a t-shirt that must have been white at one time. His too large, dusty dungarees had slid to his hips. A brown leather belt made a feeble attempt to cinch the excess cloth at his waist. As Johnny studied the lad’s freckled face he noticed signs of sunburn. Johnny put his hand on his shoulder. “Tell me what happened.”

“Well, me and my brother Drake decided we’d check out this mine. We never saw a mine before and we thought it would be fun. We had a flashlight and we went in a little ways. Then this big piece of wood fell down on Drake. I couldn’t git it off of him. The flashlight quit working, too. It’s dark in there.” He shuddered, “it took me forever to git back out here.” The boy’s voice quavered as he finished his explanation.

“How long has your brother been stuck?” Johnny asked, trying to get a bit more information.

“I dunno. It’s been a long time!” He pulled on Johnny’s hand. “C’mon! I’ll show ya where the mine is.” The lad trotted down a bluff. At the bottom, he traversed a faint path and Johnny saw the mine entrance.

“What’s your name?” Johnny asked, letting the boy lead him toward the dark opening.

“Pete. Mister, don’t talk. Go help him.” He tugged harder to urge Johnny to speed up.

When they arrived at the entrance, Johnny dropped to his knees. He swung the pack off his back, lifted the flap and untied the pocket that held his flashlight. Then he stared into the young boy’s face. “Pete, I need you to stay out here. I’m gonna go in and see how your brother is, and then I’ll come out and tell you what’s up. Okay?”

The boy nodded. Johnny eyed the hole in front of him. The wood that shored up the structure appeared to be on the verge of collapse. Over time insects and weather had eroded the wood’s integrity. He noticed the large yellow sign with the word “Danger.” He walked beneath the arch and turned on his light.

His light beam provided a glum sight. The timbers dangling above him looked like pickup sticks waiting for a slight jar to release them. Johnny proceeded with extreme caution into the tunnel. He heard someone struggling for breath. His flashlight targeted the sound. As he got closer to the boy, his heart sank. Drake lay underneath a major support beam. It had fallen on his chest and upper legs, trapping his arms. He probably had internal injuries. And there could be another collapse at any moment. He set aside his emotions and spoke in a confident and friendly voice. “Hi Drake, my name is Johnny Gage. I’m a firefighter and paramedic with the Los Angeles County Fire Department. Your brother Pete sent me in here.”

“You gonna rescue me?” Drake asked, his eyes shining with hope.

“I sure am going to try.” Johnny reached for his carotid artery and shone the light on his watch. Drake’s pulse was weak and thready. His skin felt clammy and he was pale.

“Drake, I promised Pete I would give him a report. I’ll be right back.” Johnny rose from his side.

“Okay. Tell him I love him, would ya?” Drake replied in a brave voice.

“You bet,” Johnny gave him a comforting look as he maneuvered his way back out of the cave.

Pete stood right outside the entrance waiting for Johnny. “Where’s Drake?”

Johnny stooped down in front of him. “Pete, I can’t lift the plank off of Drake all by myself. You need to go get some help.”

“What can I do?” Pete asked, with hesitation.

“Where are your mom and dad?” Johnny wanted to know.

“We were having a picnic with my dad. He wanted to take a nap and said we could explore if we were…” he swallowed hard, “careful.”

“Do you know where he is now?” Johnny continued, wondering why the father hadn’t appeared yet. Maybe he didn’t know where his sons had gone.

“I think so,” Pete nodded.

“Pete, it’s very important that you find him as fast as you can, tell him what happened and have him go find a park ranger. Do you understand?” He waited for a response.

“Yeah.” Pete scanned the scenery in all directions, made a decision and hurried off.

“Pete!” Johnny cried after him. Pete looked over his shoulder at the paramedic. “Drake wanted me to tell you he loves you.”

“I love him, too.” Pete yelled back. His eyes blurred and he stumbled.

“Be careful!” Johnny instructed in a loud voice.

Squaring his shoulders, Johnny lifted his pack and returned to the dark cave. He mentally inventoried what was in his bag. Drake heard him approaching, “Johnny, you came back!”

“I told ya I would. Pete went to get help.” Johnny knelt by Drake and checked his pulse. Then he studied his surroundings, looking for something he could use for leverage. At last he spied a board. He dragged it over to Drake and eased it under the wood trapping him.

“Drake, I’m gonna try to raise the board on top of you, you think you can slide out from under it?”

“I’ll try.” Drake promised.

Johnny double-checked the position of the lever and took a deep breath. “Ready?”

“Uh huh,” Drake told him.

Johnny’s adrenaline coursed through his body. Inch by inch the timber rose. He could taste victory. A loud cracking noise reverberated through the chamber. With horror, he saw the wooden bar collapse. His mind racing, he jammed his foot under the falling timber to absorb the weight. He froze, hoping his efforts hadn’t caused a cave-in. He exhaled with relief when nothing around them fell.

Johnny knew he had to remove his injured limb from beneath the beams. Johnny felt his ankle throbbing and knew it was broken. With excruciating slowness, he raised the wood so he could drag his foot out. He relocated the flashlight and saw the sheen covering Drake’s face. The boy’s eyes were closed and his face glowed with pain.

“I’m so, so sorry.” Johnny apologized, gritting to hide his pain.

“You tried. Am I gonna die?” Drake asked in a courageous but weak voice.

“Not if I can help it.” Johnny’s voice held determination.

Johnny dug into his backpack. For a brief minute he wished he had carried more with him. He pulled out his jacket and laid it on Drake.

“Drake, I’m gonna turn off the flashlight to save the batteries.” He scooted closer to the boy. “Drake, how old are you?”

“I’m almost eleven. Tomorrow’s my birthday.” He answered.

“Really? August 28th? That means we share the same birthday!” Johnny’s voice expressed his surprise.

“Drake, how old is Pete?”

“He’s eight.”

“Johnny, I wanna be a fireman when I grow up. Tell me what it’s like.” Drake requested.

“What would ya like to know?” Johnny probed.

“Everything.” Johnny noticed the pain wrapped in Drake’s answers.

“Well, first I was a fireman. Then I took training to be a rescue man and then I studied to become a paramedic.”

“Is it exciting?”

“Sometimes. But we do all kinds of boring stuff, too. We spend time at the fire station cleaning and cooking and hanging hose and polishing the equipment and doing drills to get even better. We visit schools and we make sure businesses have safe places to work.”

“What’s your favorite thing?” Drake asked. Johnny considered this for a brief time.

“That’s a tough question.” Johnny shifted his weight and grimaced. “I like helping people and working with my best friend.”

“Pete’s my best friend.” Drake interjected.

“Drake, he told me to tell you he loved you,” Johnny tousled the boy’s light brown hair. This boy would have been a terrific fireman. He was brave and caring.

“Tell me some stories.” Drake said slowly. Johnny could hear him sucking in air.

He checked his pulse. It was fainter. “Lemme think…”

“Well, there was this rescue my partner and I did when a Volkswagen went into Domingas Channel. This man had a pocket of air so he could keep breathing. Man, we had to keep diving into that cold water. It took forever but we finally got the door open and helped him swim to the surface. Boy, was I happy to see dry land and change clothes!”

“Then there was a brushfire in Las Plumas Canyon. Brushfires are tough cuz the wind whips them around. They chase ya if you aren’t careful. We stayed busy there. There were these two ladies who were sisters. One of them had a broken ankle and we had to use our squad to take her in. Later at the same fire we delivered a baby and got out of the house just before the fire swallowed it up. We found a kid’s dog, too. He sure was happy to see Grover.”

“I always wanted a dog,” Drake interjected. “But Dad said no.”

“Yeah, me too. I never had one when I was a kid either.” Johnny gazed into the blackness.

“You never get hurt, huh?” Drake asked after a long pause.

Johnny chuckled. “Well, partner. I have gotten hurt more than once. There was this strange flu I got. Turned out a monkey gave it to me. Another time a rattler bit me when I was on a rescue at Bear Mountain and I had to ride on top of the engine to get to the hospital. I even started an IV on myself.” He stopped abruptly, wishing he could offer better care for Drake.

“John-ny?” Drake voice expressed fear. “It hurts to…breathe.”

“I know Drake, help is on the way. Just hang in there.” Johnny told him, trying to bolster both of them up. He reached for his flashlight. It was 9:00. After a bit of searching he found his backpack.

“I know I stuffed my canteen in here,” he mumbled to himself. “Here it is.”

Johnny dribbled the stale tepid water down Drake’s parched throat.

Then Johnny dug out some beef jerky and stuffed a hunk in his mouth. After savoring the salty protein he relished the small drink he took from the water container.

The damp of the cave penetrated Johnny’s bones. He shivered. “Where was that help?” He wondered. As the minutes waned he knew Drake’s chance of survival was bleak. Drake still remained conscious but Johnny couldn’t guess for how long. Johnny continued to converse with Drake about his family, the weather, sports and any topic that came to mind to keep Drake awake.

He flicked on the flashlight. The dim light revealed it was 12:00. With a sigh he attempted to get more comfortable.

“John…ny?” Drake’s feeble voice pierced Johnny’s heart. “Wha’ time iz it?”

“It’s midnight.” Johnny touched his cheek. Its cold temperature chilled him.

“Would…you…sing…Ha…p…py Bir..th…day?” Drake’s face contorted with pain.

Johnny composed himself and burst into song. “…Happy Birthday, dear Dra-ke. Happy Birthday to you.”

He shone the flashlight on Drake’s face and saw he had lapsed into a coma. “At least he won’t feel the pain anymore.” He told himself. Johnny pounded the earth in frustration. He stopped instantly when the timbers groaned. Forgetting about his ankle, he struggled to protect Drake’s body with his own. The sound stopped. Gritting his teeth, he tried to find a more comfortable position. As the night progressed, Drake’s breathing changed. Johnny’s heart broke when he heard the death rattle echoing in the chambers of the cave.

“Oh, Drake. I’m so, so sorry!” Johnny cried in anguish when his breathing stopped. He pulled his jacket over Drake’s face. Even though he was freezing, he couldn’t bear to use it.

He fell into a fitful sleep. A scuffling noise roused him. It took him a moment to realize where he was. A light penetrated his reverie. Johnny’s eyes tried to focus on the large figure behind the light beam. “Where have you been?”

“It’s a long story. I’m sorry it took so long.” The shadow answered. “Hey, you okay?”

Yeah, I’ll be fine.” Johnny said.

“I’m Phil Adams. I’m a Park Ranger.” He spotted Johnny’s jacket covering Drake’s silent figure. The light flickered and he asked softly. “When did it happen?”

“A couple of hours ago. He was too badly injured.” Johnny replied in a quiet voice.

“And you are?” The ranger probed.

“My name is Johnny Gage. I’m a firefighter and paramedic with the Los Angeles County Fire Department.” The dark-haired man answered automatically.

The ranger reached to assist Johnny to his feet. Without thinking Johnny raised his right arm and began to rise.

“YE-OW!” He cried out as his ankle gave way and he slumped to the ground. He tried to breathe through the pain. A few minutes later he accepted Phil’s assistance and struggled to his feet.

“Did you come alone?” Johnny asked through chattering teeth. He couldn’t seem to feel the blood moving through his veins. Phil draped Johnny’s arm over his shoulder and tried to take all his weight.

“No. There’re two other rangers out there and the boy’s brother and his dad. This old mine has been ready to collapse for quite awhile. After you get out they’ll help me get the boy.” The ranger pointed toward Johnny’s jacket. “Want me to get that for you?”

“No, leave it there.” Johnny told him in a brusque voice.

Johnny stumbled and Phil halted. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Let’s get outta here.” Johnny declared

As they came through the opening the spectators’ faces fell. Pete dashed to Johnny’s side. “Where’s Drake?”

“Pete, he didn’t make it. I’m so sorry.” Johnny’s voice caught as he wrapped his arm around the boy. He perched on his uninjured foot and tried to console him.

Drake’s brother tried to absorb Johnny’s words. He stood there without speaking. Then he hugged Johnny tightly around the waist.

“C’mon son,” a man came up to Johnny. His face mirrored the sad expression Johnny wore. He reached out to shake the paramedic’s hand. “Thank you,” he choked out. “I know you tried to help Drake.”

“I’m sorry it wasn’t enough.” Johnny hung his head in defeat. He accepted the handshake and tried to turn away.

“We need to get you out of here,” Phil announced.

“No, I want to wait until you bring Drake…Drake’s body out,” Johnny said in a firm voice. “I’ll keep.”

“Alright,” Phil said finally. “But only if you sit in the truck.”

“Get him blankets and hot coffee,” he ordered his colleagues.

Johnny nodded and accepted their assistance as he made his way to the vehicle. Wearily, he tried to get comfortable on the stiff vinyl seat. He felt someone swaddle him in a blanket and insert a Styrofoam cup into his hand. His swollen ankle alarmed him. But as exhaustion overcame him, his vision wavered.

He realized how cold he was but he was too tired to try to analyze the cause. His chin fell to his chest. His fingers loosened their hold on the coffee cup and darkness shrouded him.

“It’s so dark in here!” Johnny thought to himself. “When am I gonna get out of this cave?”

Johnny battled to open his eyes but they refused to cooperate.

“How did I get so hot? I was freezing! Drake, it’s gonna be okay. Hang in there!”

He tossed and turned on the hard surface, unaware that hands ministered to him.

“It’s dark. Lemme turn on my flashlight. The light’s getting dim.”

“How long has he been delirious?” Roy DeSoto stood at the doorway to Johnny’s hospital room, dismayed.

“A day. His temperature started climbing yesterday. It’s 103 degrees now,” the young nurse informed him.

“Can I sit with him for a while?” Roy requested.

“Go ahead. If you need me push the call button,” she replied. She flew down the hall to check on another patient.

Roy entered, his gaze fixed on Johnny. The call had come yesterday. Everyone was concerned when Johnny failed to show up for work. First, the captain called Johnny’s apartment. No answer. Then he contacted headquarters for a replacement. Dwyer showed up an hour later. Roy was glad it wasn’t Brice; he couldn’t work with Brice when his mind was worried about Johnny. They’d had several runs. One was a kitchen fire. No injuries. What was the other one? He couldn’t remember. But that’s when the phone rang.

“Hello? I mean Station 51, Captain Stanley speaking.” As the conversation continued, the troubled look on his face deepened. He hung up, collected his thoughts and went to break the news to the crew.

He walked into the rec room and cleared his throat. When he had everyone’s attention he announced, “men, that was headquarters. Johnny’s been injured. He’s in Memorial Hospital in Exeter, about 200 miles from here. He has a broken ankle and he spent the night in a cave. That’s all the information I have right now.”

“What was Johnny doing in a cave?” Chet asked.

“I don’t know Chet,” the captain said. He jammed his hands in his pockets, heaved a heavy sigh and walked toward the dorm. As he stood staring at Johnny’s bed he felt a hand on his shoulder. “Roy, what are you doing here?”

“Cap, I know you ache when a member of the crew is hurt.” Roy said gently.

Captain Stanley shook his head in disbelief. Roy often astounded him with his insight. The captain turned his attention to Roy. “How are you?”

“Cap, Johnny’s my partner. He has a knack for getting sick or injured. He always recovers but I still worry about him.”

“Want me to get a replacement for you?” Hank Stanley studied the paramedic’s face.

Roy answered after a moment. “No, I know we’re really short-handed today. I’ll stay.”

“Drake! Hang in there!” Johnny’s sat up suddenly, interrupting Roy’s thoughts.

“Shhh, it’s okay.” Roy put his hand over the bedrail and pushed Johnny’s shoulders back onto the sheets.

Johnny was supposed to be back at work on his birthday. The guys got him a cake. A few weeks earlier Marco had taken his nephew to the toy store. While he was there he discovered a red truck that looked just like the squad. He bought it and a small fire truck. These two vehicles were “dashing” down a frosted road to an emergency. In the upper left corner, the decorator had swirled the words “Happy Birthday, Johnny” in red icing.

Supper that night was no celebration. Mike Stoker made spaghetti. Usually, the crew dug in and devoured it but this time only Dwyer was hungry. Instead, they twirled the pasta on their plates and looked at each other without saying much.

Johnny screamed, “Help’s coming! Don’t give up!”

“Johnny! Johnny! It’s Roy. I’m here.”

“Roy?” A puzzled look crossed his face. He relaxed, “Roy will help.”

“Johnny…Johnny? Can ya hear me?” Roy stared into his face but there was no response.

What happened in that cave? Who was Drake? “Oh, Johnny. I wish you could tell me.”

Johnny fell into a restless sleep. Roy’s mind drifted. Was it only this morning he’d left Los Angeles? When the shift finally ended, he’d rushed into the locker room and changed so fast he left half his shirttail sticking out. He needed to throw a few things into a bag. When he got home, Joanne met him at the door. She knew about Johnny. He’d called her from the station right after they got word.

“Roy, you look tired. Did you get any sleep?” She asked, giving him a gentle kiss.

“Not much.” He wrapped his arms around her.

“The kids had to leave for school. I told them Johnny got hurt and you needed to go help him. They understand you might be away for a few days.” She pointed to a small carryall.

“Thanks, you’re the best. I better get going.” He kissed her again and saw the love in her eyes as he walked back to the car.

“I got it! Just a little higher!” Johnny’s breathing grew rapid.

“No!” Johnny cried, kicking his injured leg against the bedrail. He groaned and said no more.

“Oh Johnny.” Roy felt helpless to assist him. He stood at the bedside for some time. How long had he been here? He glanced at his watch. It was 4:00 p.m. Two hours ago he entered the small city of Exeter. The hospital was in the center of town. It had the air of a miniature Rampart, always ready to save lives. That reassured him.

He spoke to the white-haired volunteer in the lobby who announced, “The doctor just started rounds. Let me page him and he’ll come talk to you.”

Several minutes later, a portly gentleman in his early fifties wearing a pristine lab coat sped into the vestibule. “Dr. Joe Carver. And you are…?” He greeted Roy.

“Roy DeSoto. I’m a firefighter/paramedic with the Los Angeles County Fire Department. My partner Johnny Gage was admitted yesterday. Can you tell me how he’s doing?”

The physician nodded. “Yes, we’re keeping a close eye on him. When they brought him in he was unconscious. He still is. He contracted pneumonia and developed a fever that hasn’t broken yet. ”

“And his ankle?” Roy asked in a concerned voice, crossing his arms.

“We put a cast on it this morning. We had to wait until the swelling went down.”

“Can I see him now?” Roy inquired, tired of waiting.

“Yes, he’s in room…” the doctor started to say.

“Dr. Carver, report to Emergency stat.” The intercom blared.

The volunteer gave him directions to Johnny’s room. “Take the elevator to the second floor. Turn right. Room 212.”

His mind returned to the present. He glanced down at Johnny’s flushed face. “C’mon Junior.”

Roy winced and stretched his tired muscles. He studied the stark room with its drab green walls and paisley privacy curtain. In the corner was an uncomfortable-looking orange vinyl, straight-backed chair. He dragged it close to the bed and sank down into it. It creaked alarmingly but held his weight. Whenever Johnny was in Rampart, his room was always filled with cards, flowers and people, especially young nurses. This seemed like a dream, a very bad dream.

The head nurse breezed in to check on Johnny. She adjusted the IV drip, and wiped his brow. “I’ll be back in a minute.” As promised, she returned and took his vital signs.

“Any change?” He moved in the chair and grimaced as it serenaded him.

“His temperature is up to 103.4,” she divulged. “I’m sorry.”

Roy ingested this information. He grasped Johnny’s wrist and exclaimed, “Johnny, you can beat this!” He felt Johnny’s pulse pounding against his fingers.

He lost track of time, but sprang from the chair in surprise when he felt a tap on his shoulder. “I didn’t mean to startle you,” the head nurse apologized.

“The cafeteria closes in fifteen minutes. Go get something to eat.” She told him, guiding him to the door.

“I’m not hungry.” He said with resolve, trying to remove her hand from his elbow.

“You won’t help him if you don’t take care of yourself.” The woman reminded him. Roy realized she was right. He had given that advice to worried relatives more than once.

“I’m going on break now. May I join you?” She invited, noticing his change of heart. Roy read her nametag, “Mrs. Malloy.”

“I’d like that, Mrs. Malloy,” he replied. He held the door open for her and looked over his shoulder at Johnny. “I’ll be back, Junior.” He whispered.

She led him around the corner and they went down a flight of stairs to the deserted eating establishment. Grabbing a tray and utensils, he viewed the choices before him. Displayed behind the glass was a nearly empty pan of macaroni and cheese. In the next container sat a few green beans. He nodded to the server. She scraped out all the pasta and added the vegetables. He took the plate from her and slid his tray down the track. In front of him were small bowls of red Jell-O and applesauce. Ignoring them, he stared at the dessert choices: dried-out white cake, a solitary piece of apple pie and bread pudding. He plucked the pudding off the shelf and set it on the corner of his tray. Near the beverage display was a dishwasher basket of glasses. He removed one, turned it upright and filled it with “fresh dairy” milk. He paid his bill and followed Mrs. Malloy to a small square table.

Roy studied the food in front of him. He forced himself to pick up his fork and stuck the tines into the cheesy mixture. He noticed his companion watching him so he took a bite. Even though it was cold, it had a good flavor. As he chewed he realized he hadn’t eaten since supper the night before. He glanced at his watch after he took a drink. It couldn’t be! It was 7:40. No wonder he was starving. The food on his plate disappeared. Roy’s fingers circled the spoon handle and he poked at the bread pudding.

Mrs. Malloy took a sip of coffee and asked. “Your friend is a fireman?”

“Yes, he is. Johnny and I are also paramedics and work together. I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Roy DeSoto.” He took a bite of the soft dessert.

“Nice to meet you.” She pushed her coffee cup aside. “Paramedics? I’ve heard about them but I’ve never met one. Tell me what you do.”

“We go to the patient and provide medical treatment at the scene. We have a small truck equipped with everything we need. We’re always in contact with doctors at the hospital. It’s pretty amazing.” He said simply, gulping down the rest of his milk.

“Do you know what happened to Johnny?” Roy asked, hoping to hear the story.

“No, I was off duty that day. All his chart says is: trapped in cave.” She moved back from the table and picked up her cup. Roy dropped off his dishes and accompanied her to the second floor.

“Could you tell me where the pay phone is?” He asked when they arrived at the nurses’ station.

She pointed, “Down the end of the hall and to the left. It’s right next to the visitors’ lounge.”

When Roy reached the phone, he felt in his pocket for a dime. It tinkled into the slot and he heard a dial tone. He stuck his finger in the “0” and watched the wheel turn. He heard a woman ask what he wanted and replied, “Operator, I’d like to make a collect call to Mrs. Roy DeSoto.”

After his wife accepted the charges he gave her the news. “Joanne? Johnny has pneumonia and is running a fever. It may be a couple of days before I can bring him home. Would you call Cap? Love you, bye.” He hung up and retrieved his coin.

He trudged back toward Johnny’s room to resume his vigil but Mrs. Malloy stopped him in the hall. “Visiting hours are over but I will let you stay.” She understood Roy wanted to be by Johnny’s side.

During the night Johnny mumbled and cried out. His incoherent words of despair tortured Roy. Around two a.m. his fever broke. The staff sent him to the visitors’ lounge while they changed Johnny’s sheets and bathed him. Roy paced in the lounge, exhausted. He refused to sit knowing he wouldn’t rise from a chair. “You can go in now,” a voice told him. He shuffled back to the room and plunked into the orange chair. It had shaped itself to him. Johnny’s breathing was slow and steady. A healing sleep enveloped him. As Roy watched the rhythmic rise and fall of his friend’s chest, his own head grew heavy and his eyelids took longer to fly open. Gravity pulled Roy’s chin to his chest and he dozed. When his head bumped against the bedrail, he woke briefly and struggled to find a sleeping position in the chair. A nurse checked on Johnny and saw Roy’s slumbering form. She tucked a blanket around him, lowered the lights, and left the room.

A bang against the door startled both men. “Patsy, be careful with that wheelchair,” they heard an authoritative voice say.

Johnny’s head turned toward the noise. “Roy!” His eyes widened and a confused look crossed his face.

Roy’s muscles protested as he struggled from the chair, “Junior, nice to see ya.”

Johnny studied the room. Rampart’s décor didn’t look like this. “Roy, where are we?”

“Johnny, you are in a hospital in Exeter. You went camping a few days ago. You spent the night in a cave. Don’t you remember what happened?”

Roy watched Johnny’s face express alarm and confusion. “No, I don’t!”

“Try to think back, Johnny,” Roy suggested.

“Were you with me?” Johnny concentrated. “Wait, I went alone to Sequoia National Park. The scenery was unbelievable. I know I hiked but…” His voice ended.

Roy saw Johnny’s exhaustion. “Don’t worry about it. Get some rest.”

“O-kay,” he answered. His head lolled to the side and he fell asleep. Roy stayed by his side until his body sagged.

“I’ll be back, Johnny.” He promised the sleeping man. Roy got directions to a nearby motel and checked in. He was too tired to notice his surroundings and dropped onto the bed. When he returned to the hospital later he received a good report. Johnny’s temperature was normal and he was complaining.

Roy strolled into Room 212 feeling encouraged. “Hi there, Junior.”

“Glad you’re here. I’m bored.” Johnny greeted his partner.

Roy grinned and settled into the loudly creaking chair. Johnny listened to the serenade and chuckled. “That seat needs surgery.”

“Roy, I wanna get out of here,” Johnny added in a serious tone.

“I know, but you are gonna have to let the doctor decide when.” Roy explained.

“I don’t know what happened that night,” Johnny said to both of them.

“Johnny, it’s okay. Focus on getting better.” Roy consoled him.

The hours passed slowly. The television’s snowy picture made it hard to watch. Roy found a paperback copy of The Odyssey lying around and started reading it.

Dr. Carver burst into the room around 4:00. He examined Johnny. “You are doing much better. If no complications arise I’ll release you tomorrow.”

Johnny attacked the food they brought but couldn’t eat much. When visiting hours ended Roy bid Johnny farewell and drove back to the motel. Then he unlocked Room 12, and dropped the key on the dresser. He made a quick collect call to Joanne telling her he would be home the next day.

The following morning, Roy checked out of the motel and paid his bill. The day was gloomy and gray. Wisps of fog remained as he returned to the hospital. He switched off his lights and locked the car.

The hours dragged by while the two men waited for the doctor. At 10:30 he swept into the room, checked Johnny over and made a pronouncement. “I am releasing you but I want you to visit your physician as soon as possible. He can call me if he has any questions. And take the medication I’ve prescribed for your pneumonia until it’s all gone. Too many people quit taking their pills when they ‘feel fine.’ But the bacteria hangs around and can cause a relapse.” He made a few notes on the chart, signed it and marched out.

Roy opened the closet to see if Johnny had any street clothes. He found Johnny’s backpack wedged in it. While Johnny dressed, Roy made a quick perusal of the pack’s contents to see if it provided any clues to Johnny’s missing memory. Nothing surfaced.

They transported Johnny to Roy’s car in a wheelchair. Roy helped his friend into the passenger seat. The day was still overcast. “Roy, what about my Land Rover?” Johnny asked when they’d gone about ten miles.

“I haven’t heard anything but I will contact Sequoia National Park when we get back.”

He promised.

“Okay,” Johnny accepted the information. He turned slightly away from Roy and leaned his head back. When Roy glanced in his direction, he saw the other man’s eyes were closed.

Johnny slept most of the journey. Roy pulled into a drive-in to get some food. Johnny drank a glass of milk and ate half of his meal. He became more attentive when they turned onto the 405. “You're going to spend the next couple of days at my house. No arguments. Joanne insists.”

Johnny agreed with reluctance. Roy continued, “And we’re making a detour on the way home.”

He made a few turns and parked near Rampart’s emergency entrance. “What are we doing here?” Johnny grumbled. “I just left a hospital.

Roy turned to him, “Dr. Carver said you needed to visit your physician. I asked Joanne to call Rampart and tell them we’d drop by.” Roy softened his voice, “Let them check you out. They’re worried about you too ya know."

“Alright,” Johnny surrendered. He was feeling too exhausted to argue.

“I’ll be right back,” Roy headed into the building and returned with a wheelchair and Dixie.

“Johnny.” Dixie said in a motherly tone, “Nice of you to stop by." The hospital staff knew Johnny had been injured but their information, like Station 51’s was sketchy.

“Take him to Treatment Room 2,” she directed Roy, holding the door open for him.

“Look who’s here,” she announced to Kel and Joe who were standing in the hall.

“Johnny, we heard you had an accident while you were on vacation. How are you feeling?” Dr. Brackett asked as Johnny settled onto the examination table.

“Kinda tired, Doc.” He said in a weary voice, “Didn’t know I’d be so wiped out just riding in a car.”

“What happened?” Joe Early inquired, checking Johnny’s pupils.

“I’m not sure. I remember hiking and then nothing after that until I woke up in a hospital,” Johnny’s face showed his frustration.

“When we got the call at the station they just said he’d been trapped in a cave.” Roy volunteered. “Dr. Carver treated him at Memorial Hospital in Exeter. Contact him if you have any questions. Here’s the prescription he gave us.” He handed the vial of pills to Dr. Brackett.

“Thanks Roy.” He turned to Miss McCall, “Dix, I want x-rays of his chest and ankle. I also want a complete blood workup.”

“Kel, his vital signs are normal but he has a temperature of 99.8,” the nurse notified him after reading the thermometer.

“We’ll talk when the tests come back, Johnny. Just relax until then.” Dr. Brackett said as he shoved open the door.

When the results were in, Dr. Brackett gave Johnny the news. “Johnny, I’d like to keep you overnight for observation. Your ankle looks good but I wanna make sure you’re not going to spike a temperature again.” Roy had filled the doctors in on Johnny’s condition when they left the treatment room.

“Why can’t I recall what happened?” Johnny wanted to know, more concerned about his lack of memory then being admitted.

“You have retrograde amnesia,” the doctor explained.

“Amnesia? I didn’t get a head injury.” Johnny looked perplexed.

“Amnesia can be also caused by other illnesses or a traumatic event.” Kel Brackett understood his confusion. Amnesia was frustrating and frightening for people.

“Will I ever remember?” Johnny inquired, hoping for reassurance.

“I don’t know, Johnny. Each case is different. Concentrate on letting your body rest right now.” Dr. Brackett said frankly.

Roy stayed with Johnny until he was comfortable in his room. Then he told him, “I’m gonna head home now. I’ll be back later.”

“Thanks Roy,” Johnny said in a grateful voice. “I think I’ll get some sleep now.”

Johnny spent an uneventful night in the hospital and was released the next day. Roy picked him up late in the morning and brought him to the DeSoto home.

When Johnny was settled on Chris’ bed, Roy cleared his throat. “I have good news.

“Your Land Rover got towed into a lot in Exeter. Marco offered to go with me to drive it back here. We’ll do that in the next couple of days.”

“Thanks, Roy.” His voice conveyed his gratitude

At breakfast several days later Johnny pushed his empty cereal bowl away from him and turned to Roy, “I’ve been thinking. Did I say anything while I was in the hospital?”

“You were pretty incoherent." Roy tried to remember. "You wanted help. You said something was falling and you cried out a name." A slew of names ran through Roy's mind. He tried hard to pull one from the air. After some thought he remembered, "Drake, that was it.” Roy watched Johnny closely.

Johnny shut his eyes, willing himself to remember. “No, nothing.” He finally said in a sorrowful voice.

Soon Johnny returned to his apartment. In the days that followed Johnny was rarely alone. Between the guys from work dropping by, cheeseburgers and conversation in tow and Joanne bringing over meals and the DeSoto family visits he never had a chance to disobey Brackett's orders. This was apparent when Johnny’s progress pleased Dr. Brackett and he told him his cast would come off in three weeks. It was only when the dark-haired paramedic was alone he tried to conjure up what happened to him but his memory had left him for reasons unknown.

At the end of the third week, Roy took Johnny back to Rampart. Dr. Brackett examined the latest x-rays and removed the cast. Roy inspected his friend’s pale foot. “When can I go back to work, Doc?” Johnny inquired as he tried to sit up.

A few days later Roy made the announcement, “Dr. Brackett gave Johnny the “thumbs up” to return to work.”

“Johnny will be back on the next shift?” Marco verified. “Let’s plan a party to welcome him back.”

“That’s a good idea, Marco.” The captain agreed. He scooted his chair back from the table and went to rub Henry’s head.

“He missed his birthday. Why don’t we get a cake? I saved the decorations and the bakery could make another one.” Marco added, anticipating the look of surprise on Johnny’s face.

“Yeah, let’s do that,” Chet chimed in. “And I…I mean The Phantom could have welcome him back, too.”

“Tell The Phantom to wait awhile, Chet.” Captain Stanley’s tone boded no argument.

“I could make spaghetti,” Mike offered. He took the dirty dishes off the table and carried them to the sink.

“I am back!” Johnny said to himself as he entered the station. He stood for a moment as the sounds and smells assailed him. He was home. He snuck into the apparatus bay and opened the compartments of the squad. “I’ve missed this so much.”

He was fastening his belt when Roy came into the locker room. “Hi, Junior! I’m glad you’re back.”

“Me, too. Roy, this work is so much a part of me.” Johnny patted Smokey the Bear on the nose and slammed his locker.

“I know, Johnny. We are a team, I’ve been counting the days, too.” He admitted.

“I missed everybody here,” Johnny said, not realizing Chet was listening to his conversation with Roy.

“Hey Marco, Gage says he missed us,” Chet yelled in a mocking voice.

“Shut up, Chet.” Johnny smiled and stuffed his green pen in his pocket as he tromped into the kitchen for a cup of coffee.

At 8:00 a.m. sharp, the crew stood at attention. “Good to have you back Gage,” the captain said in closing. “Okay men, you have your assignments. Get to work.”

Johnny and Roy had just finished their telemetry check with Rampart when the claxons sent them bolting to the cab. “Squad 51, possible heart attack at 2327 High View Lane.

When they reached their destination, Roy cut the siren and left the lights flashing. They grabbed their equipment and rushed to the front door. Roy banged on it, “fire department.”

“He’s been complaining for the last half hour,” the young woman’s voice sounded worried as she led the paramedics down a hallway to the den. A man with thinning gray hair sat on the divan, leaning against its arm, he gave them a weak smile. A look of pain crossed his face and he put a fist to his chest.

“Hi," Roy greeted him as he knelt down beside the worried patient. "My name's Roy DeSoto and this is Johnny Gage. We’re paramedics with the Los Angeles County Fire Department. “What's your name?”

“Morris Clawson,” he replied struggling to breathe.

“Do you have a history of heart problems?” Roy asked as he placed a blood pressure cuff on his upper arm.

“No, I’ve been pretty healthy all my life.” He said between breaths.

Johnny put him on oxygen and adjusted the flow while Roy casually unbuttoned his shirt and attached the leads. Johnny opened the biocom and switched it on, “Rampart, this is Squad 51. How do you read?”

“We read you loud and clear 51,” Dr. Morton replied.

“Rampart, we have a male in his early fifties complaining of severe chest pain. The pain began thirty minutes ago. He’s diaphoretic and we have him on six liters of oxygen.

“Johnny, the BP is 88/48. Pulse is 140 and respirations are 32.”

Johnny repeated the vital signs to the hospital. “Rampart, we are ready to send a strip. This will be Lead 2.”

“51, he’s throwing PVC’s. Start an IV with D5W, administer 10 milligrams MS IV and transport immediately.”

“10-4, Rampart.” Johnny opened the drug box and gave Roy the syringe of MS. The ambulance siren announced its arrival just as the IV was established.

“I’ll go in with him,” Johnny told Roy after they had Mr. Clawson on the gurney. Roy nodded and carried the trauma box out for him.

Roy watched the ambulance take off and then trotted to the squad. He closed all the compartments and arrived at Rampart just as the ambulance was backing up to the entrance.

Johnny gave Dr. Early and Dr. Morton a brief report as he accompanied Mr. Clawson into the examination room. Then he went to the base station to meet Roy. A short time later Dr. Early came to the desk, “Mr. Clawson is ready to be transferred to ICU,” he informed the nurse. “You did a good job guys,” he complimented the paramedics.

Dixie appeared a few seconds later, “Johnny! It’s nice to see you back in uniform.”

“Thanks, Dix. I’m glad to be here,” he told her.

“Well, we better head back to the station,” Roy stated, setting his empty coffee cup on the counter. He picked up the handie talkie and informed headquarters they were available.

“Bye, Dix.” Johnny called over his shoulder, skipping to catch up with Roy. Dixie heard him complain as he got out of earshot, “We coulda stayed a little longer.”

During the shift the men kept busy. There were several false alarms and Cap discussed an upcoming foam drill.

Mike served spaghetti for supper. Johnny dug in with fervor and savored the pasta. As time for dessert neared, Marco snuck out of the room. He came in with the lighted cake that had been hidden in the captain’s office and proclaimed, “We have a surprise for you, Johnny.”

Johnny looked up from his with his mouth full of food, his eyes narrowing a bit as he computed what was happening. As the crew burst into song, “Happy Birthday to you…” Johnny’s mind jerked back to the last time he’d heard that song. His chair toppled over as he sprang from the table in distress and raced out of the room. Roy looked at the flabbergasted faces of the men around him. He slid back his chair and went to locate his partner.

Roy found him at the back of the building leaning against the brick wall, taking deep breaths. He stood in silence with him for a moment. Then he asked, “Johnny?”

“I know what happened that night, Roy." Johnny's voice was quiet, disturbed as the images and words played out like a bad dream. "I hiked longer than I planned that day. I just started back toward my car when a kid stopped me. He and his brother had gone to explore a deserted mine.” He turned around, his eyes far off into the past as he continued his story.

“They never shoulda gone in there." he gritted his teeth and shook his head. "The place was ready to collapse." John's eyes narrow as he relived the scene, "A huge support beam fell...I tried to raise it," a noticeable shiver ran through John's body as he continued. "The board I used broke." His voice dropped to a whisper through his clenched teeth. "I couldn’t save him."

Roy could hear the anguish in his voice.

“He died on his birthday." The whisper lingered, but Johnny's face betrayed him as his jaw muscles tightened. "He asked me to sing “Happy Birthday” to him. He’ll have no more parties. No presents or cakes." He tilted his head trying to comprehend the why's of all this. "And we shared the same birthday," an ironic grin slipped out. Johnny bit his lips as he tried to gain control.

“Some birthday present," Johnny commented sarcastically, not expecting an answer.

Roy remained silent for a moment, trying to absorb some of Johnny’s pain. “I’m sorry,” he said at last.

“Would you tell the guys?” Johnny requested.

“Sure thing.” Roy’s voice expressed his compassion.

When Johnny reentered the rec room, the empty table sparkled and the dinner dishes sat in the cupboard, ready to be used again. The crew was gathered around the television watching The Wonderful World of Disney.

Hank Stanley watched as Johnny entered the room. His eyes spoke his sorrow for his crewmember.

Johnny acknowledged him with a slight smile. He felt relieved. Things would get back to normal now. And they seemed to, for a while.

Several weeks later the men were halfway through the day when the tones sounded. “Squad 51, child down. 10271 West Cedar. One zero two seven one West Cedar, cross street Lincoln. Time out 1447.”

The captain jotted down the address and acknowledged the call while the paramedics hastened to their vehicle. Captain Stanley handed the call slip to Roy who then passed it to Johnny as they rolled out.

Johnny checked his street maps and directed Roy to the address. A maid met them at the gate and swung the barrier open. The yard in front of them was ablaze with color. Children darted around the lush grass. Not only were they wearing their Sunday best but each child had a balloon tied to their wrist. Roy heard Johnny’s sharp intake of breath but a few seconds later Johnny acted as if nothing had happened. Together they scanned the tableau trying to find their victim. A waving arm got their attention. A woman in her early thirties stood hovering over a five-year-old child.

“Ma’am, could you tell us what happened?” Johnny asked as they approached the helpless child.

“Well, I hired this pony for Tracy’s birthday party,” she began. “She begged to ride it even after she’d been on it five times!” She rambled on.

“And?” Roy encouraged her.

“Someone called my name and I turned around and off she flew!” The mother put her lace handkerchief to her nose and sniffed.

“Was she unconscious?” Johnny asked, clicking on his penlight. When he had finished, he checked her for injuries.

“No, but she couldn’t breathe for a long time!” She replied, bending over to look at her baby.

“Sounds like she got the wind knocked out of her.” Roy said to Johnny as he wrapped the pediatric cuff on her arm and got a reading. A nod of Johnny's head showed he acknowledged his partner’s diagnosis.

“Rampart, this is Squad 51, how do you read?” Johnny said into the biophone. When there was no response he repeated, “Rampart, this is Squad 51, how do you read?”

“Go ahead, 51,” Dixie’s voice replied.

“We have a female, five years old, fell from a pony. No lack of consciousness. Blood pressure: 100/60. Respirations: 20. Pulse: 82. Pupils are equal and reactive. No apparent injuries.

“Administer 6 liters of oxygen and transport as soon as possible, 51.” Dixie ordered.

“10-4, Rampart,” Johnny confirmed and closed up the orange box.

While they waited for the ambulance the maid approached with two plates. “Would you like some birthday cake?”

“No!" Johnny answered quickly. He caught himself. "No thank you ma'am." He smiled an apology. The ambulance arrived a few seconds later and Johnny volunteered to go in with the little girl.

When they returned to quarters, Johnny disappeared. Roy gave him some time and then sought him out. He found him in the dorm on his bed.

“Johnny, you okay?” Roy asked with concern.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Johnny sighed.

Roy considered him for a moment. Johnny’s face was drawn and he avoided eye contact.

Roy made a decision, “What happened back there?” Roy looked at Johnny a bit trying to see where he was going with this. The expression forming on Johnny's face spoke for him.

“The time I spent with that kid in the cave." his voice sober. "When the mother talked about her child’s birthday..." Johnny started before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

“Care to talk about it?” Roy offered, wanting to help bear his partner’s burden.

“No," he stated firmly. "I'll be alright.” His last statement bore some self-doubt. To cover it, Johnny rose from the bed and turned away from Roy to straighten the covers.

“Johnny, you know I’m here whenever you wanna talk, right?” Roy verified.

“I know thanks.” Johnny plopped down on the bed again, disheveling it. Roy watched him in silence for a moment and decided to give Johnny space.

After that there were subtle changes in Johnny. The twinkle in his eye lost its glimmer and his smile wasn’t as wide. He only seemed to be his old self when they were on runs.

Roy waited several weeks before he brought up the subject again. They were returning to the station after picking up supplies at Rampart when he dove in, “Johnny, I’m concerned about you.”

“That's reassuring!” Johnny said, staring at the scenery passing by.

“You’ve changed,” Roy tried to explain. “Are you dwelling on Drake’s death?”

“I guess,” Johnny admitted, feeling uncomfortable.

“Johnny, we’ve seen death before.” Roy replied in a gentle tone.

“This one’s different.” Johnny retorted, hoping Roy would drop the matter.

“Tell me how it’s different. Make me understand.” Roy tapped his foot on the brake as a car merged in front of him.

“I don’t know. It’s just different!” Johnny said in an angry voice.

“Johnny, I’m trying to understand. Talk to me.” Roy encouraged. He glanced at his partner, wishing he would open up.

“Leave me alone. Please. Am I letting you down? Am I doing a poor job?”

“No, you are working as hard as ever. I just hate to see you hurting,” Roy shared, saddened that Johnny was pushing him away. He backed into the station.

“Give me time, okay?” Johnny pleaded as he left the squad. Roy watched him vanish from sight.

Days passed. The senior paramedic watched Johnny at work. His partner continued to provide excellent care when he was in the field but at the station Roy missed Johnny’s spontaneity and idle chitchat.

Several shifts later, Johnny was mopping the floor when the station received a call. “Station 51, child trapped. 6911 West Montana. Six nine one one West Montana. Cross Street Cedar. Timeout 1933.”

“The captain acknowledged the call and the equipment rolled. As they pulled up, a youth darted out of sight. They heard a voice yelling, “Eddie, come back here!” There was a rattling sound followed by a yelp.

Johnny and Roy jumped out of the squad and headed toward the noise. The other men found them standing by a chain link fence. A boy, about nine, was stuck in the gate. “What happened?” Roy asked.

“Well…me and my little brother Fred and my friend Eddie decided to fish around in the junkyard.” He stopped, and struggled to free himself. “We all slipped in through here just fine but I got stuck trying to leave.” The lad watched Johnny examine the situation.

“My little brother ran to get help. Eddie tried to yank me out but he slammed my arm against the post by accident. It hurts real bad.”

“My name is Roy and this is Johnny. We’re from the fire department. What’s your name?” Roy inquired, removing his helmet.

“Tony. Eddie said he’d stick around but he left, some friend.” The boy said feeling deserted.

“Yeah,” Johnny said empathetically.

Chet used the bolt cutters to snip the padlock and Tony was free. “C’mon over here,” Johnny guided him to the side of the squad. “Roy, he’s got a fracture.”

The dark-haired paramedic took Tony’s vital signs and put a sterile bandage and splint on his arm.

Roy switched on the biophone and contacted the base station. The hospital told them to immobilize the injury and transport. The ambulance arrived at the scene a few minutes later. Johnny helped lift Tony onto the stretcher, tucking a blanket around him.

“I’ll go in with him, Roy,” Johnny said as he gathered equipment.

Johnny met Roy at the base station at Rampart. “Dr. Brackett says they’ll have to surgically reduce Tony’s fracture, but he should be fine.”

“That’s good,” Roy waved farewell to Dixie and followed Johnny out to the squad.

“He begged me to visit him in the hospital. Poor kid.” Johnny notified headquarters that they were available and leaned back.

Johnny kept his promise and went to see Tony at Rampart the next day. It was early evening when he left his room. As he exited, he heard singing. “Hap-py Birthday to…” Memories of Drake flashed in front of him. His face crumbled and he stumbled toward the elevator, nearly running over a young girl sitting in a wheelchair.

“You okay, mister?” She asked as he struggled not to fall on her.

He nodded when he regained his balance. “Mister, would you push me into the lounge? I don’t want to miss the party.”

Johnny scanned the hallway but couldn’t find anyone else to volunteer. With reluctance, he stepped behind the chair and grasped its handles. He whisked her into the room, a room packed with children, staff and adults. It appeared to Johnny that everyone was happy. Johnny tried to make his escape but bumped into a girl in his way.

“Want a piece of cake?” She offered. Johnny studied her. She was wearing a turquoise chenille bathrobe decorated with a pink rose. On her feet were huge pink faux slippers. Her brown hair was tied back with a bright pink ribbon. But what he noticed most was her countenance. She glowed with excitement and pleasure.

“No, I need to go,” Johnny told her. “Sorry.”

“Please? This is a very special birthday,” she pleaded. She pointed to the decorated sheet cake with roses around its border. In the center were the words he dreaded, “Happy Birthday.”

Her comment aroused Johnny’s curiosity. “What makes it so special?”

“Well, I was really sick for a long time. The doctors said I needed a new kidney but they couldn’t find one.” She paused.

“A week ago, a boy died in an auto accident and his mom and dad gave me his kidney.”

“How are you doing now?” Johnny forgot about his own feelings as he listened to her story.

“Much, much better. I will be able to do so many things I couldn’t before.” She continued, giving him a beaming smile.

“How old are you today?” Johnny asked politely.

“Well… it’s not really my birthday. Yesterday, the boy’s parents visited me and told me it woulda been their son’s birthday today, so I wanted to have a party for him. They’re sitting over there. She pointed to a couple with tears brimming in their eyes and a look of peace on their faces. They gazed at the girl now using their son’s kidney. “Wanna meet them?”

“No, I need to go. Thanks anyway.” Johnny left, deep in thought.

He walked to the Land Rover and sat in the driver’s seat. He stared unseeingly out the windshield as he dwelt on the scene he’d just left. For a long time, he hadn’t allowed himself to feel anything. In his mind he saw faces. He saw the peace in the parents’ eyes; he saw the gratitude on the girl’s face as she looked forward to life; he saw Drake bravely accept his death; and he saw Roy’s face. He saw his partner’s readiness and willingness to be there for him, to listen. Johnny’s face relaxed.

A few minutes later he buckled his seatbelt and pulled out of the hospital’s lot. He drove to Roy’s house and parked in the driveway. He sat in the dark car for a few minutes and then went to the front door and rang the buzzer.

Roy opened it and eyed his best friend. Johnny stood in front of him, smiling broadly. He recognized this Johnny. “Come in.”

“Can we talk?” Johnny began. Roy led him into the living room.

“I’ve been waiting a long time to hear you say that. I would be happy to. Give me a second to tell Joanne you’re here. I’ll be right back.” Roy pointed toward the faded sofa and left the room. Johnny stared at the avocado shag carpet as he waited. He gazed around the room and noticed the family portrait on the wall. He moved his foot and kicked something. It was a baby doll with a bandage on her knee. Jenny often played “paramedic” with her dolls. Roy smiled when he came into the room and saw Johnny holding the doll. He sank into the plaid easy chair near the couch and asked his partner, “What happened?”

“I just came from Rampart. I was visiting Tony, the kid with the broken arm we treated yesterday. Anyway, when I left the room I heard people singing “Happy Birthday.” I tried to get away but I couldn’t.” He paused, scooted forward and looked at Roy.

“That conjured up everything that happened to Drake again. His death has been personal for me. I don’t know if it’s cuz we shared the same birthday or cuz I spent so many hours with him and felt helpless. It was like I just couldn’t get past it. But tonight…” his voice grew softer and he paused. “Tonight this kid was celebrating someone else’s birthday. He wasn’t even there.”

Johnny noticed Roy’s puzzled face and tried to explain, “I kinda ran into this kid in a wheelchair. She wouldn’t let me go until I pushed her into the lounge. There was this girl in there. I guess she was around ten years old. She told me she’d just gotten a kidney transplant from a family whose boy died in an auto accident. Seems it woulda been his birthday today and she wanted to celebrate it. His parents were there and there was singing and cake.”

Roy could picture the scene at the hospital. He waited for Johnny to continue.

“Roy, I am always gonna hate death and think of it as cruel, untimely and unwanted.” Johnny sighed.

Johnny glanced at the ceiling and pondered how to express what he wanted to say next. “But tonight I realized something else about death. Death can bring life to others. It might be through transplants. It might be when our brothers die in a fire and we learn to react differently next time. It might be when the doctors study death and discover a new procedure that saves lives.”

Roy nodded with understanding as Johnny continued. “I don’t think I will ever forget Drake’s death but it’s not gonna haunt me anymore. I feel like a burden’s been released. I’m free to be myself again.”

Joanne had quietly entered the room. She cleared her throat. “Roy, sorry to interrupt but the kids can’t wait much longer. They are begging for cake.”

“Man! What is today anyway? Lemme think, is it already November 7?” Johnny asked in disbelief. “Man, I can’t believe it’s your birthday! I forgot!”

“Will you tell the kids I’ll be right there?” Roy said to Joanne. She nodded with understanding and left.

“That’s okay. I’m glad you’re here. Wanna join us?” Roy offered, rising from the chair.

“You bet! I’m starved.” Johnny stopped in his tracks. “ But I didn’t bring ya a present!”

“Oh yes you did. You brought yourself. I couldn’t ask for more. Let’s go celebrate.” Johnny grinned at his best friend and they went to join the others.

Guest Dispatchers         Stories by Marty P.