He thought he was safe . . .
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NEW! 12/30/12
by Caressa
He thought he was safe ...
The real reason he got hurt is because he thought he was safe. He always thought he was safe, but he knew that sometimes he underestimated his inherent superpowers.
When John Gage flew down the stairs, chased by dogged flames and billowing smoke, he knew he miscalculated. Where was up?, he thought, knowing in a fraction of a second he would definitely know where down was.
Hit by a freight train was a rather accurate feeling, as Johnny was thrown face first into the landing as the flames overcame him in a swirl of hot fire and smoke. His head cursed, his stomach churned, and his leg screamed with pain. What the heck? he thought. Where the heck am I?
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The World May Never Know. . .
By Audrey W.
He thought he was safe. He’d made it out of the burning building without a hitch. He was clear. Until he realized, his partner hadn’t been behind him as expected.
Roy DeSoto turned and ran back inside, much to the dismay of his captain. But when he hadn’t seen the youngest member of the paramedic team emerge, he didn’t protest.
Roy hurried as he retraced his steps in the darkened atmosphere. The smoke was still thick. He dropped to a crawl and soon found his partner John Gage laid out on the floorboards of the lower story, his air mask askew and helmet off.
He grabbed the unconscious man and dragged him, occasionally having to give a rough tug. It felt like forever before they were out in clear air. Another fire fighter ran over to help him. Both carried John to the squad where the equipment was. After a bandage was placed on a head wound and oxygen was administered, the younger man began to stir.
Now Roy just had to wait for John to cough out an explanation.
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Dodge Ball
By
Jamie Simmons
He thought he was safe until the ball thumped against the nearby tree. He stared
as it hit the ground and bounced once before coming to a halt.
“Come on, Dad, it’s your turn!” Chris yelled.
Smiling, Roy picked up the ball and threw it as he turned quickly around, trying
to anticipate where his son would be when he finished his move.
Squealing with delight, Chris leaned to the right and the ball narrowly passed
him by.
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by Ross
He thought he was safe, but the pungent aroma of burning plastic
and a few telltale wisps of lingering smoke betrayed him. "U-Uhhh, no," Hank
Stanley stammered—er, lied in response to his Captain’s inquiry, as to whether
or not he could smell something burning.
Station 43’s Commander stood there, looking deeply skeptical. "Have you seen my
hat anywhere?"
"Nope!" his Engineer promptly replied—er, lied for the second time in as many
minutes. ‘At least, not since I torched it and tossed the ashes into the alley,’
he silently tacked on.
McConike looked even more dubious. "You’re not still sore at me for knocking you
on your ass with that inch and a half, are you?"
Stanley had just tasted the sweet—all be it unpleasant smelling—nectar of
revenge. "Nope!" Hank immediately answered his Captain…this time, truthfully.
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by Sharon
Mike Stoker walked down the hallway, he thought he was safe, but
he now knew otherwise. He hadn’t realized a trip to Rampart could be so
exhausting. It had been the craziest call. He was supposed to occupy the safe
job. He was after all, the engineer, the guy who watched over the equipment or
helped out when an extra set of hands was needed. That’s exactly what he’d been
doing, helping with the extraction of a victim from a tangled vehicle. One
minute he was half in the car and half out, holding a woman’s legs next to his
body. The next thing he knew he was tumbling backwards down an embankment. He
must have fallen twenty feet. His back hurt, his neck hurt, his shoulder was
feeling better now that Doctor Brackett had relocated it.
After having Johnny and Roy place him in the stokes and bring him back up to the
top of the hill, he was ordered into the waiting ambulance by Captain Stanley.
He was immediately whisked off to the hospital with the woman he’d been
originally helping out of the banged up vehicle, with the ever watchful Roy
DeSoto keeping tabs on him.
He was amazed at how quickly the pain in his shoulder subsided when the doctor
slammed it back into place and was feeling able to return to duty but both
Captain Stanley and Doctor Brackett ordered him home. Little had he known that
what would be so tiring about his hospital trip would be fending off a couple of
persistent nurses, boy but they were vigilant. He finally agreed to a dinner
date with a young red head just so he could leave. For the rest of his life he
would never understand why John Gage complained about striking out with the
nurses so often.
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by Ness
He thought he was safe. The floor had stopped ominously creaking
when he froze in place. Then with a roar, the fire-weakened floor gave way, and
he fell through to the first floor. Wood and debris rained down around
him--pieces of which struck him as they fell. One particularly large piece
glanced off his head, and he was out before he hit the floor. The flames and
smoke instantly surrounding him.
He came to with a groan. His air tank's warning alarm shrieking insistently. He
only hoped that his fellow firefighters were on the way.
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Another Fine Situation
He thought he was safe. He was wearing all of the prerequisite protective garb, from his head down to his feet, but there is always that one mistake that can lead to serious injury. Looking around at the pandemonium surrounding him, Johnny sighed. He would never live it down. Breaking his leg while skateboarding with Chris DeSoto would give Chet more ammunition to make his life miserable.
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by Wanda CH
He thought he was safe, but even under these conditions no one
is entirely safe. Today was the day that A-Shift of Station 51 had their fall
cook out. Marco was making what was going to be his best pot of chili ever! He
could just see Mike putting some on his hot dog, Cap eating some out of the
bowl, but the most exciting thing for him was seeing the kids devour his
wonderful mixture.
Marco had a secret recipe for chili that had been passed down through his family
for ages. Just when the ingredients were almost at their peak, he realized that
the pot was too small for the amount inside it. BOOM The hot mixture of meat,
spices and beans had blown up right in the firefighter's face.
Gage and DeSoto ran to assist their wounded friend. He had second degree burns
on his face. They rushed him out of the way of the children, and to Rampart.
This would be one cook out the fireman would never forget.
The End
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by Linda
He thought he was safe as he sat down with the rest of his
colleagues in his chair to watch television with his snack on a plate ready for
him to devour it. The day had been typical as the Phantom goes. He had to change
clothes twice between runs that day as he was the victim that many times with
the water bombs set out in strategic places in the fire hall. With the Captain's
reaction after that second time, he figured the remainder of the day would be
totally safe for him in all areas of the building.
He was wrong. In the next few minutes, Johnny was as deeply engrossed in the
television show as the others were. But then it happened - a commercial
interrupted the program. So he took a big hungry bite of his dessert and quickly
spit it out. "CHET!!! Shaving cream on a sponge!!!!
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by Ziggy
He thought he was safe.
When his captain had gotten promoted and transferred to another district, he’d thought he was safe. When he himself had finally advanced in rank to captain and had gotten his own station, thankfully outside his former superior’s battalion, he’d thought he was safe. Unfortunately, Hank Stanley realized he was, in fact, not safe from the wrath of his old captain, for the man had been transferred within the department and was, once again, his direct superior, his battalion chief.
No, Hank thought, as he re-read the note left to him from C shift’s captain, informing him of the change in personel, I can’t let it get to me, I won’t let it get to me. Hank ran a shaky hand through his dark hair as he stared at the neat letters on the scrap of paper.
Would he forever be hounded by this man? McConnikee was out to get him, Hank was sure of it. It wasn’t if but when. His former captain was waiting for the right time, the best time, to lower the boom and let him have it. With the most humiliation possible, to make Hank look like a total fool. He was out to get him, he just knew it!
And all because of a stupid burning hat.
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Trust
by Jen B.
He thought he was safe....after all, they had been partners for what...two years next month. They knew each other like the back of their hands, knew what the other needed before he even said it....could second guess themselves at every rescue....back each other up without question...trust each other totally....they were like......what.....brothers, that's it...brothers...Soooooo.....
"How in the hell, did I get myself into this situation...How did I let him talk
me into this....no, not talked into this, but rather tricked into this...I can't
believe I'm doing this....oh no, here it comes" Looking over at his partner,
who's hands were up in the air as the big coaster peaked the crest, "oh man"
"Roy, raise up your hands, come on"
Gripping the rail so hard till his knuckles were white...he replied "NO"
The big coaster sped down the drop at 80 miles an hour....with Roy hanging on
for dear life........
The End
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*Not written in 5 minutes, but in one sitting
OAS
By Audrey W.
He thought he was safe. After all, he’d eaten watermelon numerous times in his life. But when he noticed an odd sensation in his mouth not long after finishing off a slice, the paramedic started to wonder.
He glanced around at the other off-duty firemen and their families that had enjoyed the same treat at the annual picnic sponsored by the L.A County Fire Department. No one else seemed to notice anything different. They were all going on with their conversations, ball games and eating.
In the meantime, his own little annoyance progressed to something more troublesome. John Gage suddenly found himself with his throat affected and it took more effort than usual to swallow.
What the hell. . .?
He walked away from the trash can in the park where he’d disposed of the empty rind and headed for his partner Roy DeSoto. Roy was busy playing Frisbee with his young son and hadn’t noticed the concerned look on John’s face.
As the dark-haired paramedic approached the distracted father, he noticed another development. His hands were starting to itch. By the time he reached Roy, the itch had intensified.
At least his affected throat hadn’t appeared to get any worse.
“Hey, Roy,” he calmly called out.
The dad held the Frisbee he’d just caught and looked to his friend.
“You ready to join in?”
“Well, I would,” John said, surprised at the sudden change to the tone in his voice. It sounded like he was straining to get the words out, much like he would with a sore throat. “Um. . .I seem to have a little problem here.”
Roy glanced at his son Chris,who was waiting patiently for the plastic disc to come his way. He held up a hand to let him know they were stopping for a moment, then stepped over to John, who was now scratching at his reddening hands. They were slightly puffy.
“What’s wrong?”
“I think I’m havin’ an allergic reaction to the watermelon.”
Roy immediately went into paramedic mode.
“Here, let’s go over to that picnic table,” he said, motioning toward a wooden table with benches attached. The off-duty firemen who’d used it earlier were now involved in a game of flag football with co-workers and family. “You can sit down.”
John walked beside him as Chris followed behind.
The younger man sat on one of the benches and leaned his back against the edge of the table. Roy eyed him with more concern.
“Are you having trouble breathing?”
John shook his head. “No.” He glanced down at his hands. He couldn’t help but wring them together they itched so bad. “Roy, it’s weird, man. It’s really weird.”
“You’ve never had a reaction before?”
Again he shook his head. “Never. Man, I can breathe, but I can tell my throat’s kinda swollen. It feels like I sound. . .and my hands, look at ‘um,” he said as he held them out for Roy to see how they’d swelled even more and were very red. But he didn’t hold them out long. Within seconds he was back to wringing them to try to get at the intense itch. “Man. . .,” he groaned.
“What’s wrong, Daddy?” Chris wondered.
Roy forced himself to give his son a reassuring smile. “Johnny’s just not feeling well at the moment. How about you go see what your mom and sister are up to and we’ll play Frisbee later, okay?”
Chris nodded as he gave a sad look at their ill friend.
“I hope you get better real fast,” he said, then hurried off to do as his dad suggested.
Roy watched him leave while John closed his eyes tight in agony. He’d never in his life felt such a strong itching sensation like the one that had overtaken his hands. He was grateful that’s the only place it was centered. Much more area affected and it would have been unbearable.
The older paramedic turned his attention back to Gage. “You think you need to go to Rampart?”
“You know, that may not be such a bad idea,” he said between gritted teeth, his voice still strained. “I don’t think it’s gonna get any worse, but maybe they can explain why all of a sudden it happened.”
Roy had to agree. Since it wasn’t life or death, he could take John in his Land Rover and not make a scene. However, Captain Hank Stanley, their superior officer when on duty, had noticed the two and was on his way over. He’d seen the men take care of one another after an injury before, and the scene before him had looked all too familiar.
“What’s up?” Hank called out when he was a couple of yards away.
Roy stood up and turned to face him.
“Johnny’s having some sort of allergic reaction, we think to the watermelon. It doesn’t appear to be too serious, but I’m gonna run him to Rampart just to be sure.”
“When did this start, John?”
“Not long after I got done eating a slice,” he explained.
Hank frowned at the swollen hands that were still in motion, obviously greatly irritated. He also was not happy with the sound of Gage’s voice.
“You sure you’re gonna be okay? You sound terrible.”
“I don’ think it’s gonna get any worse, Cap.”
“Let’s hope not,” Roy said under his breath.
The other two agreed silently as Roy headed off to find his wife to explain where he was going and why, and to give her the keys to their station wagon in case he was gone for awhile.
~*~*~
The ride seemed longer than expected. John had to admit to himself he was a bit nervous during it. Though his throat still hadn’t gotten any worse, his hands seemed to be slightly more swollen and the itching he thought couldn’t get any worse had. It was even faintly on his stomach now. He rubbed at the area, his shirt still covering it, with one hand.
Roy glanced over from the driver’s seat.
“It’s spreading?”
“Just a little.”
“Well hang in there, we’re almost to Rampart.”
John nodded. What choice did he have? He just wondered when the symptoms would stop and begin to ease up.
~*~*~
Once they arrived at Rampart John was directed to go to Treatment Room Two, where Doctor Brackett would see him. Roy went into the room as well, both for moral support and to find out why an allergy would suddenly surface so fast.
After close examination, the doctor stepped back, his arms folded across his chest. His mouth twitched slightly as he gave the situation careful thought.
“Well, your symptoms seem to be residing a bit. Your hands don’t look quite as swollen.”
“And they don’t itch quite as much,” John added with a slight grin. His throat still felt different, his voice still wasn’t normal, but he figured things could only get better from here on out. He then furrowed his brow. “But what caused this, Doc? I’m not allergic to watermelon. I’m not allergic to anything I ate today.”
Brackett sat on a stool nearby. “I believe you have what we call ‘Oral Allergy Syndrome’.”
When Roy and John both appeared confused, he elaborated.
“You see, it’s caused by cross-reactivity between proteins in fresh fruits and vegetables and an allergy to pollens. Thus the reaction occurred when the melon was consumed. It’s not very common to get much more than a very brief period of symptoms, usually in and around the mouth. However, it’s been known to intensify occasionally like it did with you. The fact the reaction involved your hands and stomach is a bit puzzling. But as you know from experience, sometimes things just depend on the individual.”
“Yeah, but why now? Why not any other time? And why haven’t I had an allergic reaction to pollen before this?” John wondered.
“It’s just one of those things. Could be it was dormant till now. Could be you’ve never eaten melon when a certain pollen was in the air before. Things may have just come together at the right time. Or wrong time, I suppose I should say.”
“Huh. . .” The dark-haired paramedic gave it thought. “An Oral Allergy Syndrome.”
“That’s what they call it,” Brackett said. "I'll give you an antihistamine to help speed up the recovery process."
Roy had a feeling Gage would be reluctant to ever eat a melon again. And who could blame him? After all, what if the symptoms were even more severe next time? He sure wouldn’t want to risk it.
~*~*~
A few hours later, John was still feeling the effects of the outbreak. His hands had almost recovered, but, despite having the antihistamine, his throat didn’t feel normal until the following morning. He was glad when it was finally over and, just as Roy had suspected, certainly would think twice before eating melon again. No matter what the time of year.
NOTE: This is based on my own experience a couple of weeks ago. I never had experienced anything like it prior to that. And I'm not sire they knew about this in the 1970s but for story purposes they did. .
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Oh, no!
by
Purry
He thought he was safe...until he heard the scream of timber collapsing. The
staircase that held the hapless paramedic and unconscious victim gave way to
nothing more that rubble. Before darkness overtook, Johnny prayed that death
would be quick.
Roy and the rest of the A-Shift crew heard the creaking of the staircase at the
same time they heard Gage's scream. They ran to the pile that once was a way to
the second floor, now looking like wood gathered for a bonfire waiting for a
match.
They pulled away the timbers until the uncovered the still unconscious victim
and Johnny. Once outside Roy, a worried Chet and two other paramedics from
Station 18 worked until they had their patients ready for transport.
Johnny woke at the same time Chet was helping to strap him onto the gurney for
his trip to Rampart. The sudden gasp he expelled got the attention of his
partner.
Johnny, what's wrong? Are you in pain? Roy asked worriedly.
Oh, NO! Johnny wailed.
What, what is it partner? Roy asked, wanting only to ease any of Johnny's fears.
Johnny remembered he had asked for a quick death; he once again looked at Chet,
then said, Hell, am I in hell? Then he passed out.
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