A Night At The Races Can Be Hazardous To One's Health
By Wanda Hargrove

The men of Station 51 were avid Stock Car Racing Fans, and tonight they were going to see a night race for the first time.  This was going to be a real treat for the men of Station 51, for they really deserved a night of some real rest and relaxation. 

"Man, if Johnny doesn't get here soon," Chet began in a tirade.

Hank cut the shorter, chunkier man off before he could continue with a chopping motion of his hand. "Not another word," Stanley threatened.  "We've all had a tough week, but this past week was one for the record books."

The others silently agreed, and Roy gulped down a lump in his throat as the thought of one of the victims came back to mind.  Timmy's face, along with the tears and wails of his mother dashed back.  The pair had been going to see a new Disney movie until a drunk driver had T-Boned the car on the passenger side.  Johnny had stayed with Timmy as the engine crew worked furiously to get Timmy Stockton out of the car.   Roy had stayed with Norma, Timmy's mother, until they got the boy out.

Johnny and Roy worked intensely to stabilize the young boy.  Johnny rode the whole way with Timmy to Rampart, and Roy had heard once they'd gotten to the
hospital that Johnny had almost lost the young lad twice in transit.   During the last shift Johnny had called to check up on Timmy.  Norma had told him that
Timmy was improving but he was still in critical condition.

"Is everything okay?" A somber Mike Stoker asked the blonde-haired paramedic.

"Yeah," Roy answered quietly.  "I was just thinking about Norma and Timmy."

That's all the other men needed to hear.  They each thought that was the reason why Johnny was late, the younger man had probably went to check on the boy's
condition.

Chet chuckled.  As heads turned his way he knew that they would want to know a reason behind it coming behind such a somber moment.  "I was just thinking of
the first time we met Timmy and Norma at the haunted house."

Marco smiled, "What about when he went exploring and got himself trapped?"

"That boy, I don't know why he can always find trouble," Hank agreed. 

Roy chuckled at the memories.

Just at that moment John Gage joined the men. "What's so funny?" he asked hoping they would share the joke.

"We were just talking about all the trouble Timmy can get into," Mike Stoker replied.

"Speaking about Timmy," Johnny beamed.  "He's now off the critical list, and Norma said they might be releasing him in about a week."

"That's great news," Roy replied as he slapped a hand to his thigh. 

The mood of the six men had been uplifted as they entered the Speedway.  The smells of the hotdogs, roasted peanuts, tires, and sweat assailed their nostrils.  Finding their seats Johnny caught a vendor, who was going up and down the aisles hawking his been and peanuts.  "Hey, who wants a beer?" he asked.
There were five assents, and Johnny dug into his pocket pulling out the money he paid the man and began passing cups over to the other men. 

Glancing down at the others John commented, "Next round somebody else is buying."  He sat down and began to sip his beer. 

Digging his elbow into Chet's ribs he pointed to the car sitting on the pole.  "I told you he'd get the pole!" Johnny exclaimed excitedly.

"So....  He doesn't have a snowballs chance in hell of winning cause the kid's been on such a hot streak lately," Chet replied.

"We'll see Chet, we will see," Johnny replied as he smirked at the other man.

The driver introductions were made as the fans roared for their favorites and others booed and hissed at the drivers they loved to dislike.  The crews quickly
helped their drivers into their vehicles.  Then came the singing of the national anthem followed by a prayer to see that no one came to any harm that day.
Quickly they followed by some of the most famous words that have ever been spoken in motor sports. "Gentlemen - Start Your Engines!" 

Forty three engines sprang to life drowning the noise of the spectators as their seven hundred plus horsepower engines roared to life.  High-octane
excitement filled the stands as the pace car led the field out onto the track.

The track was a twenty-degree, two-mile tri-oval. Each man from the station had their eyes glued to the cars.  After two pace laps, the cars wiggled back and
forth warming their tires.  After they got themselves back into line, the green flag was dropped and the race was on.

Ten laps into the race, tires squealed and smoke rose as his favorite driver's car spun out crashing into the wall.  Unmindful of the beer in his hand, Chet jumped to his feet not realizing that he had just doused Mike and Marco.  "Did you see that?" Chet asked of no one in particular.  "That little punk just knocked him out of the race!"

A young girl, about sixteen sat behind Mike and Marco, seeing the spillage of the beer she handed some extra napkins to the pair.  "Thanks," both Marco and
Mike replied simultaneously. 

"Your welcome.  Do you guys get to see the races alot?" she asked timidly.

"No, but we get to watch them on TV when we're not working," Marco replied as he wiped the beer from off his trouser leg.  He snickered when he heard Stanley
threaten Chet in his most captains like voice.  He then noticed the teen for the first time.  Her sun bleached blonde hair shone brightly in the now dimming
rays of the sun.  Her brown eyes weren't exactly a dark brown, but closer to a light tan that immediately would draw anyone of the opposite persuasions
attention to her eyes.  Her typical California tan also helped to emphasize her eyes.

"You said you watch them on TV when you're not working.  What is it that you do?" she asked politely.

"We're firefights for Los Angeles County." Marco smiled at her look of awe, he was used to it by now. "I'm Marco Lopez, and this is Mike Stoker -- our
engineer," he introduced Mike as Mike nodded his head in her direction.  "The guy there who tried to drown us, that's Chet Kelly."  Kelly poked Marco in the
ribs, as Marco continued with introductions.  "The man sitting next to Chet, that's our Captain, Hank Stanley."  Hank smiled at the teen, which smiled back.
 "Then there's Roy DeSoto and John Gage, they're paramedics," both men smiled at the teen.

"I'm Vicky Brighton," she smiled back at the pair. "This isn't the first race I've been to.  My dad loves seeing the cars race, and I guess it's rubbed off on me."

Johnny couldn't help himself not to keep his eyes off of her.  'Cute girl,' he thought to himself but she was way too young for him.  'She'll be a real heartbreaker in a few more years.'  He turned back around to watch more of the race.

- - - - vvrrVRRRROOOOMMmmm - - - -

As the next caution came out a thought occurred to him.  Norma had told him that Timmy liked the racecars, so he'd go down and buy the boy a souvenir or two.  Maybe even one for him.  With his plan made,Johnny rose and quickly made his way down to thesouvenir stand.

Looking at all the programs, the toy cars, hats and t-shirts he decided to buy a t-shirt for himself.  He picked out two cars, a hat and a t-shirt for Timmy. Hearing that the word had come over the loud speaker that they were going back to green again, Johnny quickly raced up the bleachers and found two boys whose parents were sitting close to Vicky had taken his spot.

Not wanting to sound like a bad guy, he decided he'd sit next to Vicky seeing a spot was open on the bleacher next to her.  Knowing that her dad was somewhere out there, he felt a sudden burst of fatherly protection towards her.  Johnny sat down and continued to watch the race as Vicky continued to chat with Chet and Marco.

Time passed by quickly and then the black car crossed the finish line and Johnny stood up cheering on his driver.  Chet looked down and noticed that people were
beginning to mill out of the stands.  Looking around he asked, "Hey who won?  I don't even know who won!"

"Read it in tomorrows paper," Hank sniggered as he rose.

Chet heard other snickers around him as he shook his head.  'I can't believe Cap got me that time.  I must be loosing my touch,' he thought.

The six men began to leave, but because of the one hundred and forty thousand plus fans they decided to hang back.  Johnny found himself next to Vicky as they
started crossing the walkway over to one of the main parking areas.  His look of smug satisfaction, as he listened to Chet's continued whining changed as he felt a tremor run through the walkway. 

The rumble from the pedestrian crossing increased as Johnny shouted over his shoulder, "Don't get on the walkway!"  Vicky reached out grabbing John's arm
trying to suppress her growing fear.  Johnny's safety was the furthest from his mind; Vicky's was at the forefront.  This was not how a fun night at the races was supposed to end, especially for a teen that needed her father at that moment. 

People on the crosswalk grabbed each other and the handrails for support.  Johnny no longer saw the other side of the crosswalk, now he was falling as Vicky's
scream joined the screams of others.

- - - - vvrrVRRRROOOOMMmmm - - - -

Roy was following Johnny and Vicky as he heard Johnny shout warning him, and everyone else behind to stop. One minute the dark haired paramedic was in front of him, the next there was nothing but open sky.  Looking down he couldn't see where Johnny or Vicky might. Instead he saw a writhing mass of human agony as moans and shouts from the injured reached his ears. "Johnny!" Roy yelled hoping to hear a response; instead he heard many shouts for help.

Hank cupped his hands together and yelled down at the mass, "Gage!"  Still there was no familiar response. He couldn't see his missing paramedic or the blonde
haired teen that was with him anywhere. 

Hank turned to his men not missing the looks of horror on their faces.  "We need to back track and find our way down there so we can give these people what help we can give before the rescue crews get here."

"What about Johnny?" Roy asked his expression showing the worry he felt.

"We'll look for him too, pal," Hank gave him a comforting clap on the shoulder. 

Roy nodded trying to choke down the knot in his throat.  He hoped Johnny was okay, but the unknown created a little whisper of doubt at the back of his mind. 

The men turned hurrying through the crowd who had gathered to gaze down on the victims.  Marco was sickened by the fascination of people to watch the
misfortune of others.  Some of them might be dying for all he knew, and of those of those people was a friend of his.  A thought occurred to him for the first time.  The teenage girl the guys had met was down there too.  Marco crossed himself as he raced on the heels of the compadres’ - saying a quick prayer that God was looking out for all the injured.

- - - - vvrrVRRRROOOOMMmmm - - - -

Johnny woke to lances of pain in his ribs, back, legs, and head.  He heard some soft crying off to his right as his vision cleared.  The image of Vicky Brighton became clearer.  She was crawling towards him slowly, and he noticed she was feeling around as if she couldn't see.

Sliding himself over to her, he put a hand on her shoulder; he felt her body shiver as the whimpering increased.  "It's okay, Vicky," he soothed.  She instantly calmed as she recognized his voice.  "Can you see?" he asked gently as he smoothed a stray wisp of blonde hair away from her face.

"No - I - I can't see," she answered slowly.

Some soft motes of concrete dust continued to swirl down from above.  "It's okay, Vicky," Johnny cooed softly.  "I know you're scared."  Johnny pulled his shirt off as Vicky sat up trying to find herself a comfortable spot in the rubble.  Johnny folded tore a strip off the cleanest part of his shirt and tied it around her eyes.

Her hands came up immediately up to her face.  "Why did you do that?" she asked cautiously.

"It's just a precaution to keep your eyes from getting anymore dirt or anything else in them." Johnny then noticed the small trickle of blood running down her hairline along the side of her face.  Tracing it back to the source he found a bump with a small cut in the center near her temple.  "Does your head hurt?" he asked as he tenderly wiped the blood away, and made another makeshift bandage wrapping this one around her head.  He groaned as the movements brought on more stabs of pain.  Perspiration began beading his face mixing in the dust. 

"A little," she heard his groan and knew that this man, this fireman was hurt.  "How about yourself?" she asked.

"I'm just a little banged and bruised," he lied as he figured he probably   had at least some cracked ribs, possible broken or fractured legs, maybe even a concussion.  He didn't even want to consider his back.  Johnny reached out and pulled the scared teen closer to him, trying to comfort her.  At that moment he was
hit with a wave of nausea as his concussion was confirmed.  He began to feel tired, and knew he had to stay awake.

- - - - vvrrVRRRROOOOMMmmm - - - -

Chet was the first to spot it, an access way down to the street below.  A big, burly guard who had no intention of moving from his spot was guarding it.  "Look man, we've got to get down there.  People may be dieing down there!" Chet practically bellowed at the guard.  But no matter how much he argued or yelled at the man, the guard refused to move.  Chet sighed frustrated hoping maybe someone else could talk some sense into the man.

Captain Stanley removed his wallet and showed the man his identification.  "Look, I'm Captain Hank Stanley from Station 51 and we need to get to those people
before somebody dies.  Do you want to be held responsible for that?"  He could see by the man's expression that he was weighing the possibility.  So Hank added more to his case, "One of my men is missing, and if you don't move out of the way and he dies you better believe that I'll be pressing charges on you so fast it'll make your head spin!"

"Okay, man, don't get so uptight.  I've got a job to do too," the man replied as he moved to one side allowing the off-duty firefighters down the access way. 

Once down into the street, they could see the damage that had been done.  The walkway had disintegrated in the middle causing the two sides to look like a huge
wide V.  Mike Stoker spat out, "Shit!" and shook his head.  Shaking off the enormity of this disaster, whether it is natural or man-made, the men went into action.

Roy wished he had his equipment from the squad as he began to wade through people and some of the crumbled concrete.  Pulling out a pocket sized notebook and a pen that he had hoped to get some autographs; he began to assess the condition of people.  Tearing sheet after sheet out, he wrote who would need the most
urgent care and who could wait pinning these onto shirts.  Closing his eyes, he said a prayer of thanks as he heard the sounds of approaching sirens in the distance.

- - - - vvrrVRRRROOOOMMmmm - - - -

"Johnny?" Vicky asked.

Johnny at the moment was trying valiantly to ward off the pain and nausea that was causing his vision to cloud.  "What?" he asked trying not to let the pain show in his voice.

"I wish my daddy was here," she trembled underneath his hand.

"I know you do, and I'm sure he's out there trying to find you," Johnny hugged her tightly.  He prayed someone would find them sooner than later.  He began to hear the sirens and voices that sounded familiar coming closer.  Trying to stay conscious, he heard the voice of his captain call out, "ROY!  Johnny's over here!"  The sounds began to fade as the blackness of unconsciousness closed over him.

- - - - vvrrVRRRROOOOMMmmm - - - -

Captain Stanley quietly cursed as he made his way over to the side of his lost but now found man. Johnny slumped causing Hank to think the worst might have happened.  Reaching out he grabbed a wrist and sighed gratefully that there was a pulse, but it seemed to be weak yet fast.  As far as Hank knew Johnny could have internal injuries.

Stanley looked over at Vicky who looked around for the source of the sounds in the rubble.  "It's okay Vicky," Stanley spoke soothingly to the teen as he would to his own children.  She nodded, noting the sound of concern in Stanley's voice.

Before she could give voice to her own concern she heard the sound of someone else approaching.  "I didn't want to move John, he might have internal injuries not to mention the bruising on his forehead," she heard Captain Stanley say to the other person.

"Who - Who's there?  I - Is Johnny okay?" she asked as her lower lip trembled.

Stanley turned back toward the teen, "It's okay, Vicky.  Roy's here now."

She heard Roy's voice, "Hi, Vicky.  Can you tell me if you lost consciousness?"

"I don't think so," she felt gentle hands examining around her eyes and the bump on her head. 

Roy sat back on his heels as he looked up at Stanley.  "She's okay to move."  Turning back to the teen, "I'm gonna let Captain Stanley help you to an ambulance.
Don't worry, he's got a pair of daughters just about your age."

Vicky nodded as she felt strong yet gentle hands on her shoulders as they helped her to stand.  She could hear the people as they screamed and the panic in some
of their voices.  She could also hear the shouts from all the rescue workers as they made their way to the victims.  Then she heard a familiar shout as Stanley
led her toward one of the ambulances.  "Vicky!"

"Daddy!" the teen cried as her father grabbed her.  "I've been looking all over for you!" the older man noticed the makeshift bandages.

"She has a bad bump on her head that they think is interfering with her vision," Stanley commented to the girl's father.  Noticing the man's questioning look he
introduced himself.  "I'm Hank Stanley, Captain of Station 51, Los Angeles County Firefighters."

Vicky's father stuck his hand out and both men shook hands.  "Thanks so much for taking care of my daughter," the man replied thankfully.

"Well, I can't take full credit.  One of my men who was helping her was on the walkway also when it gave way." Stanley paused not knowing what else to say.

Michael Brighton could see the worry on this mans face.  "I sure hope he's okay, and tell him thanks." Mr. Brighton climbed up into the back of the ambulance
with his daughter and gave Stanley a hopeful smile. An attendant closed the doors and the ambulance sped off into the night.

'I hope your right, pal,' Stanley thought to himself.

- - - - vvrrVRRRROOOOMMmmm - - - -

Roy began his assessment of Johnny's injuries. Starting from his head Roy found the hairline cut. Moving his hands downwards, he found a possible fractured wrist, but he needed Johnny conscious. Continuing on down he found some possible fractures in Johnny's ribs, a broken femur in the dark-haired man's left thigh and what felt like a dislocated kneecap. 

Movement in his peripheral vision caught his eye. Looking in that direction it was Wheeler and Kirk from 110's heading in his direction.  Roy rose and cupped
his hands to his mouth, "Tom!  Over here!"

Both men joined Roy.  Kirk broke open the biophone setting it up to contact Rampart as Tom helped Roy splint both of Johnny's legs and wrist.  We'd better
go with full spinal precautions," Roy commented as he grabbed a cervical collar and placed it around Johnny's neck carefully. 

Wheeler didn't need any prompting.  The blonde man jumped up and back to the squad to retrieve the backboard.

Roy reached into 110's drug box and took out the bp cuff and stethoscope.  Pumping up the cuff he called off the blood pressure to Kirk who relayed it to Rampart along with respiration, and pulse - which in turn relayed the information to Rampart.  Roy quickly started an IV skillfully. 

Wheeler joined them, and both he and Roy log rolled Johnny carefully placing him on the backboard.  They finished by securing him to the piece of spinal equipment.  Roy felt a wave of relief as John's eyes fluttered open, before he could say anything his hurt partner asked, "The girl?"

"Her father found her as Cap was going to put her in the ambulance," Roy answered. 

"The bag?" John asked again.

Roy then remembered that Johnny had been carrying a bag.  Looking around, he spotted a corner of it sticking out from under a pile of debris.  Moving the mess a bit he removed it.  Roy leaned over his partner, "Here it is, how do you feel?"

"Like. run over.." he replied as he started lose consciousness again.

"Junior!  Stay with me," Roy commanded.

Johnny groaned as they began to move toward another waiting ambulance.  "'Kay," he managed to get out. But no matter how many times Roy tried to keep him
awake, Johnny's eyelids grew heavier and he succumbed to the darkness. 

Roy wondered what was so special about the bag; he shrugged his shoulders and tucked the bag under his arm.  Hurrying along with Kirk and Wheeler they reached the ambulance.  Laying the backboard down on the stretcher strapping it down.  Placing the stretcher into the back of the ambulance, Wheeler climbed in with the injured paramedic.  Roy climbed in the front with the other attendant as Kirk closed the doors and patted the doors twice.   The ambulance sped off into the night with the reds flashing and the siren wailing.

- - - - vvrrVRRRROOOOMMmmm - - - -

The ambulance backed into the bay at Rampart and Roy jumped out the door before the driver had a chance to come to a complete stop.  Rushing to the rear he was met by Dr. Morton, "Roy?" the man questioned.

"It's a long story doc, we were at the races tonight," that's all Roy had to say. 

"I saw the footage on the news.  It's a terrible accident," Morton replied.  He knew if Roy was here then the we could be his wife, kids, or Johnny.  He was rewarded with the vision of a barely conscious John Gage. 

"He was on the walkway when it collapsed," Roy replied to Morton's unasked question.

Morton led them to Treatment Room 3 where they transferred Johnny from the stretcher to the exam table.   Morton quickly called off a battery of tests he wanted to be performed on the hapless paramedic to Nurse Carol, while Wheeler and Roy released their injured co-worker from the backboard. 

Morton deftly began his examination of his patient. "John?  Do you know how you got here?" Morton asked trying to determine if Johnny had a concussion.

"Walkway. fell." Johnny replied as another wave of pain shot through his pain wracked body.   He groaned again, "Doc?  Hurt.."

Morton understood what Johnny was trying to say.  "I can't give you anything for the pain just yet."

The pain in his legs, back, and wrist were beginning to overshadow the pain in his ribs and head.  At that moment the portable x-ray entered the room.  Morton, and Roy left the room so the technicians could take the pictures that the doctor would need.

"How is he, doc?" Roy asked about his junior partner who was also like a kid brother.

"Well," Morton replied as he removed his glasses and absently ran a hand over his face, "He's definitely got a sprained wrist, the thigh bone is fractured, his knee looks like it was just twisted and the kneecap not dislocated, and a slight concussion.  I haven't been able to determine if he's got any internal injuries.  I'm hoping that he doesn't, but the x-rays will tell me more."

Roy's breath escaped from between his teeth with a slight whistle.  Somehow it looked as if his partner had escaped from being very seriously injured. Although, the broken bones would take time to knit but it should mean that John would be back at work in about two months time.  'Hopefully,' Roy thought, 'I won't be paired with Brice again.'  A cold chill ran up his spine and caused him to visibly shudder.

"Are you alright?" Morton asked catching the movement.

"Yeah," Roy laughed slightly, "I was just hoping that I wouldn't have Brice as my partner again."

"Ahha," Morton replied, as he understood why Roy had shuddered.  "That man is too anal sometimes."

Roy slipped the doctor a small, but worried smile. Morton placed a hand on the paramedics shoulder.  "I'm sure Johnny will be just fine.  Why don't you go get a
cup of coffee and I'll let you know when he's ready to send up to Orthopedics."

"Thanks," Roy smiled gratefully and headed off for the lounge to get a cup of coffee.

Morton shook his head slightly as the technician pulled the portable x-ray out from Treatment Room Three.  Roy DeSoto was one person who could feel guilty about the least little thing.  Here was his partner lying in the room and there went Roy with the largest cloud of guilt hanging over his head.  It mystified Morton, but then again John Gage could be a strange one to try to figure out too.  Morton shrugged off the mental thought and headed back into the treatment room to finish his examination.

- - - - vvrrVRRRROOOOMMmmm - - - -

Roy pulled out a chair in the doctor's lounge, and sat down placing the bag from the track in front of him.  He opened the bag and found a small piece of paper that John had written something down on. Pulling out the paper he read, 'two cars, t-shirt, and hat for Timmy.'

A smile tugged at the corners of Roy's lips.  It was so like Johnny to think of someone else before himself.  Roy decided to pay a visit to Timmy.  Rising up from his seat, he left the lounge heading for the elevator.  Pressing the up button Roy waited for the elevator.

The door opened and inside was Norma Stockton.  Roy noticed she looked tired, but a bright light shone from behind her eyes.  She smiled at Roy who smiled back.  "What brings you here?" she asked as Roy got onto the elevator.

"I was going to take this," he motioned towards the bag, "to give it to Timmy."

"How thoughtful," she replied, but then she noticed something wasn't quite right.  The dust, dirt and blood were a big giveaway on his civilian clothes. "What happened?" she asked.

"The guys from the station and myself went to the track to watch the night race."  Norma's head bobbed up and down indicating that she knew about the race.
"Well, Johnny was crossing the pedestrian walkway when it collapsed," Roy's voice cracked and his eyes looked down at the dirt on his shoes.

"I'm so sorry, Roy.  I saw it after the race was over, but I had no idea," Norma placed a hand on his arm as the doors opened to Timmy's floor.  "Is Johnny okay?  Timmy just adores him."

"Johnny's got a concussion, broken leg, sprained wrist, broken leg, and twisted knee.  They haven't been able to determine if he has any internal injuries."

"I hate to hear that, Roy.  Was anyone else from Station 51 hurt?" she asked. 

"No, only Johnny."

"Tell Johnny that we're thinking of him," Norma replied.  

Roy nodded as the pair entered Timmy's room.  Timmy was dozing but the sound of feet brought his full attention.  "Roy!" Timmy cried with glee.  "Where's Johnny?"

Roy tried to keep his emotions in check, "Johnny couldn't be here, but he sent these for you."  Roy placed the bag on Timmy's bed. 

Timmy reached for the bag and opened it.  Pulling the cars, hat and t-shirt out the boy squealed in delight.  "How did Johnny know that I like this guy?"  His smile grew even more as Norma explained how Johnny had visited earlier that day while he was asleep, and asked about which driver he liked.

Timmy saw something else in the bag.  "This must be Johnny's, it's too big for me."  Norma placed the adult sized t-shirt back in the bag, handing it over to Roy.  "I hope Johnny comes to see me tomorrow," the boy yawned wistfully as his medication began to take effect.

As he fell asleep with a smile on his face, Roy smiled at Norma.  Norma smiled back as she walked with Roy back down to the elevator.  "Please keep me updated on Johnny," she asked.

"I will," Roy, replied as she left him at the elevator and headed back to her son's room.  Roy pressed the down button, and hoped he'd hear something about Johnny. 

Riding the elevator back down to the ER floor, he was met by Dixie McCall.  "Morton was just looking for you.  Johnny's just got a few bruised ribs, and back so he was sent up to Orthopedics."

Roy sighed with relief, "Thanks Dix, I've got to get back to the accident scene and see if there's anything else I can do.  Can you make sure Johnny gets this?"

"Sure," Dixie smiled as she took the bag and Roy joined Wheeler and Kirk for a ride back to the site of disaster.

- - - - vvrrVRRRROOOOMMmmm - - - -

Johnny woke to the feel of a cast on his leg, and braces on both his wrist and knee.  His head ached, and his vision began to clear as he noticed a pair of figures in his room.    His vision cleared so he could distinguish that one was a man and the other was a woman.  His eyes focused seeing that one of the pair was Vicky Brighton, and the other man must be her father.

A smile formed on his mouth as he spoke thickly, "Hi."

Vicky noticed how his voice seemed scratchy; she poured him a glass of water from the water pitcher sitting nearby.  She handed it to the grateful paramedic.  

As he drank, he noticed sunlight streaming through the window.  'Morning?' he thought as the night's events came back to him.  He took in a brightly smiling Vicky.  That's when it hit him like a punch in the head; she didn't have bandages on her eyes.  "Vicky?  You can see?"

"Yes!  A Doctor Brackett told me if it hadn't been for your quick thinking I might have had damage to my eyes.  Instead, I got stitches," she indicated the area on her head.

Michael Brighton stepped forward offering his hand, "Thank you for helping my little girl," as Johnny took his hand and the two men shook.   "She could have been
blinded."

"I didn't do anything more than what I could."

"Don't be so modest, Mr. Gage.  Actually, I'd like you and the other men that you work with to be my guests at the first race of the season.  See one reason we travel so much, well, I'm an official within the association and I have to be at all the races.  I know sometimes it makes it hard on Vicky but we manage.  So where I can send these passes to?"

Johnny tried to get his mouth working with his brain, 'This guy is an official?' he thought.  He managed to find his voice, "Station 51 c/o The LACoFD."

"We've got to go, there's a short track race coming up and we need to be there before practice starts," Michael shook Johnny's hand one more time.  Vicky
leaned over and gave the injured paramedic a kiss on the cheek.  "Thank you!  And I hope you get better soon."

"Bye." was all a stunned Johnny could manage to say as the pair left his room.  "Well, I'll be," he muttered under his breath as he made himself comfortable again, and drifted off to sleep to the sound of the television.

- - - - vvrrVRRRROOOOMMmmm - - - -

Norma had explained to Timmy about why Johnny hadn't been to see him lately.  On the day that he was being released Timmy asked, "Mommy, can we go see Johnny before we leave?"

Dr. Joe Early had been signing the forms releasing the boy, and leaned over and smiled.  "I think Johnny would like that a whole lot."

"Do you think so?" Timmy asked eagerly.

"Yes, I think he would.  In fact I'll let the nurse know that she's to run you down there as soon as both your mother and me finish with these forms."  Early tousled the boy's blonde hair.

Timmy smiled, as his mother finished signing the papers and a nurse came into the room with a wheel chair.  "Time to go, Timmy," she called down to the boy who climbed into the chair.

"Can we hurry up and get to Johnny's room.  I don't want to keep him waiting."   Both Norma and the nurse smiled at the child's antics.

- - - - vvrrVRRRROOOOMMmmm - - - -

Dr. Morton stood at the end of Johnny's bed going over Gage's chart.  "It looks like we can start on physical therapy on the leg tomorrow, and the braces can come off today."

Johnny smiled up at the doctor.  "I'm so glad to hear you say that, doc.  They've been driving me crazy for the past couple of days."

"It doesn't seem to take a whole lot to make you crazy," commented Chet from the corner.

"Who asked you?" Johnny shot back.

"Not now children," Morton chorused. 

Both Chet and John eyed the doctor suspiciously. They knew at times the good doctor had a wicked sense of humor, but he'd just put them both down. 

Hanging the chart back at the end of the bed, "I must be going, so if you two have to continue bickering do it after I'm gone."

"Who's bickering?" Johnny asked.

"Yeah," Chet piped up at Morton's retreating back.

They both heard voices on the other side of the door.  As the door opened, Timmy, who was wearing the t-shirt, and baseball cap that Johnny had bought him at the races, greeted them.  The boy was bouncing up and down in the wheelchair, not listening to the nurse or his mother.

As the nurse pulled up the wheelchair Timmy decided to dive out and landed on top of the helpless paramedic.  Johnny 'woofed' as the air was knocked out of him, and he groaned as his sore ribs protested the weight of the boy.

"Timmy!" Norma chastised.  "I'm so sorry Johnny.  I had no idea he was going to do that."

"That's. okay." Johnny managed to get out as he began to regain his breath. 

Chet chuckled in the corner, 'Only Timmy would do something like that.  I wonder if Gage was ever like that?' Chet thought.

Johnny shot Chet a withering glare.  Turning his attention back to the nine years old, "Timmy, so you're getting to go home today?"

"Yes, I am.  Only I wish you could go home to."

"Yeah, well I wish I could too, but things just didn't go the way I planned."

"Does your leg hurt?" Timmy asked feeling the hard cast.

"Not right now, but they'll be bringing in my medicine in a bit."

Norma taking that as a cue, "Come on Timmy, we've got to go so Johnny can get some rest."

"Okay," the boy pouted.  "Bye Johnny," the boy sounded crestfallen.

"Bye Timmy, and don't get into trouble," Johnny called after the boy as he, his mother, and the nurse left.

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A Week Later

Johnny was released from the hospital and Roy was helping him out at John's.  Johnny glanced at a news report about the cause of the collapse of the walkway.
 "Can you believe that?" He called out to his partner who was in the process of making them sandwiches.

"What's that?" Roy asked as he came out of the kitchen with a plate of sandwiches and a couple of canned soft drinks. 

"They just said that it was substandard materials used that caused the walkway to collapse."

"This is definitely going to be a race to remember," Roy commented as he popped the top of his drink.

"Yeah," Johnny agreed.  "Who ever thought that a night at the races could be hazardous to your health?"

Roy silently agreed as everything was beginning to fall back into place again.

The End

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