Once Jinxed
Chapter
One
Captain Stanley peered above the newspaper
as he sat at the table, wondering whether to intervene between Marco and Chet,
who were arguing over the cleanup to be done in the kitchen. He thought better
of it, slowly raising the paper back to eye level before anyone volunteered him
into the conversation. Too late.
"Cap, tell him, will ya?" Marco began, "If I trade with him out of the
kindness of my heart, and let him take kitchen duty while I take his latrine
duty - which I just finished, by the way," he paused to sneer at Chet,
"then he's supposed to do the dishes, the oven, AND the floors. Am I
right?"
"I've already finished the
dishes and the oven's clean," Chet snapped back,
like a child ready to stick out his tongue.
Hank looked from Marco to Chet, then
back at Marco. He set his paper down and pushed his chair out, standing tall
before he spoke.
"Chet, you know Marco's right.
So why are you arguing about it?" He hefted his hand on his hip waiting
for a response, while Marco gave the stocky fireman an 'I told you so' smirk
before walking out into the bay. Once he was out of earshot, Chet answered the
question.
"He finished up before I
did," he said simply. "You know, if I could've just talked him into
helping me out in here, I'd have more time to work on other stuff."
"Like what?" the Captain
retorted, both hands now resting on both hips.
"Like the Phantom's
workshop," Mike answered dryly, getting up from the couch and heading for
the coffee pot. The Captain's right eyebrow rose up, looking from his engineer
back to Chet.
"Well, Kelly?"
Chester B. knew that tone, and knew
when the Captain called him by his last name that he was all business.
He opened his mouth to defend
himself; protest his honor, and perhaps think up something in-between to
dispute the Phantom's next gambit. But instead he closed it back shut, choosing
to grab the mop and clean rather than risk any further duties placed upon him.
With that, Hank looked at Mike,
trying his best to hide the grin that threatened to spread across his face, then walked out of the kitchen, heading for his office.
~ * ~ * ~
When the squad rolled back into the bay,
Chet hurriedly finished 'swabbing his deck' as he called it, eager to begin his
next endeavor with Johnny as his 'pigeon'.
Quickly rolling the mop bucket into
the bay, he smiled deviously as
"What are you up to now,
Chet?" Johnny asked, his face showing the weariness both he and his
partner now shared after their forth call.
"Nothing pal,
nothing. Even the phantom would want you well rested before plotting his next
revenge," he retorted, then his look facial
expression became serious. "How was the last run?"
"Tough,"
"She gonna
be okay?"
"Yep, Johnny got her calmed
down enough that we could start treating her - the rest was easy."
"Ya
see Chet," Johnny began, also leaning himself against the squad as he
crossed his arms, "it's all in the charm, which I obviously have plenty of
where the female population is concerned."
Chet looked from John to
With that, he rushed the mop bucket
past them to empty it and put it away.
John looked at
"Junior, you've got to learn to
quit egging him on. You know he's still mad about that girl that asked you
out."
"Yeah, I know. That's why I did
it. Besides, it's not my fault he'd been trying to get her to go out with him
for two weeks." Johnny's smile was broad as he walked towards the kitchen,
and
~ * ~ * ~
The men of the station began filtering
into the kitchen behind the two paramedics, chores finally completed after many
runs throughout the morning. It was going to be a long day; that they were sure
of.
"Maybe I should start fixing
lunch now," Johnny stated with a hint of sarcasm, looking at his watch.
"I have a feeling we'd better eat before
As if on cue, the tones sounded, and
the rescue squad was called to a man down in a nearby park.
"Hey guys," Johnny spoke
on his way towards the bay, "if
"Sure Gage," Chet answered
quickly, "if we're still around to tell her."
As the squad rolled out from the
bay, Chet looked down at the once clean floor, now smudged with streaks of dirt
from footprints. His face shown his disgust as he
headed back through the bay, retrieving the mop for a touch up.
"How come
"She's planning a surprise
birthday party for Dr. Morton," Mike announced as he rounded up the coffee
cups from the table, heading for the sink. "I think her plan is to get
John and Roy to distract him somehow, at least that's what
"John Gage IS a
distraction," Chet chimed in, dripping mop in hand as he reentered the
kitchen.
"Well, Morton's a good guy, and
he deserves a little fun, no matter how they hand it to him," Marco said,
a smile stretching across his face. "I just hope there's
lots of single girls there."
"Not to worry, Marco,"
The men all said their 'Hellos' at
relatively the same time, making the nurse smile happily at their welcome.
"John and Roy
out on a run?"
"Yeah, they just headed out
about ten minutes ago," Chet answered, swishing the mop around hurriedly,
trying to finish up before Captain Stanley returned from his office.
"But they're on their way back
in," the Captain announced, startling both
"Hi
Hank,"
Chet scurried out from the kitchen,
slinking himself against the wall as he walked behind his Captain and their
visitor.
"Why don't you help yourself to
some coffee while I go finish up a little paperwork.
I'm sure the boys will be back in a little while."
"Don't mind if I do,"
"They do let me out of there
now and then you know," she said jokingly, walking over towards the table
to join the men who were now seated around it.
The smile on her face suddenly faded
as she felt her feet sliding from beneath her.
As her left heeled foot slid, the
full coffee cup plunged towards the counter behind her. Each man reacted within
a split second, trying to come out of their chairs. Reaching.
Calling out to her. But none were able to help.
"
As if in slow motion, she felt her
balance sway as she went backwards. She reached outward, trying to grasp at
anything to regain her balance. But there was nothing there. She felt her body
tilting and could do nothing about it. She felt the sharp pain of slamming into
the floor, then the relief of sudden blackness.
Chapter Two
Captain Stanley rushed out of his office,
the shrill of Chet's voice alerting him that something was terribly wrong. When
he reached the entrance of the day room, he found his concern justified.
"I'll call it in," the Captain stated, turning on his heels
and running towards the call center.
"Station 51 to headquarters, we
have a woman down at our location; what's squad 51's status?"
"Station 51, squad 51 is
available and in route to your location."
"10-4,
please respond them to here with an ambulance and take us out of service."
"10-4. Squad 51, respond to
station 51's location. Woman down. Time
out -
"What the hell?" Johnny
asked, retrieving his helmet.
"We'll find out in a minute,
Junior. We're almost there."
~ * ~ * ~
The squad's sirens could be heard as it
approached the station, much to the relief of each man within it.
Both Mike and Marco looked up when
they heard the paramedics arrive. They were kneeling beside
As
"It's
"Damn,"
The fact that she was unconscious
told them her head must have made impact, and being she was not only a
colleague, but friend, made it that much more worse.
~ * ~ * ~
As the paramedics entered the kitchen, the
firemen that were kneeling beside her stood up, getting out of the way. Each
man knowingly grabbed at the kitchen table and chairs, giving Roy and John room
to work on her.
Johnny and Roy took positions on
either side of her and arranged their equipment, both showing clearly the worry
on their faces.
"
"Rampart base, this is squad
51, how do you read?"
The silence that greeted him made
him tense as he watched Johnny feel across
"51, this is Rampart, go ahead." The voice of Dr. Kelly
Brackett took over the silence in the room, to which
"Rampart base, we have a female
victim, approximate age 35, the victim of a fall onto
a cement floor. The victim is unconscious - stand by for vitals. Also Rampart,
be advised that the victim is Dixie McCall."
Kelly Brackett could hear the waver
in
"51, repeat that last
statement?"
"Doc, its
Dr. Brackett winced as if stricken
in pain, took a deep breath, then pushed the call
button. "10-4 51. Standing
by."
"She was walking towards the
table, lost her footing and fell backwards," Mike said, looking worriedly
at their friend lying on the floor.
"It was my fault." The
almost inaudible voice of Chet spoke, making each man glance towards him at his
statement.
"No Chet, it was an accident -
no one is to blame here," Marco said immediately.
"If I hadn't brought that wet
mop back out here she wouldn't have slipped. My God, I did this to her."
His words faded as his face turned red with emotion.
"Chet," the Captain began,
his tone gentle, "it's not your fault, Pal. It's not your fault."
"BP is 130 over 80," John
Gage began, his professionalism pristine as he worked on his patient.
"Pulse is 76; respirations are 12 and labored." He leaned himself
over her, taking his penlight and checking her pupils. "Pupils are equal
but sluggish."
As Roy began telling the information
to Rampart, Johnny began gently touching Dixie's forehead, straightening out
her neck as he checked for any signs of injury.
"Mike," he asked without
looking at the engineer, "hand me that C collar, will ya?"
Stoker grabbed the collar and handed it to Johnny silently, as all the men
watched him place it gently around
"She's got a large area of
swelling just behind her left temple, and it's already showing signs of
bruising."
When she began moaning, Johnny
stopped his probing fingers from causing anymore discomfort.
"
When she responded, it was with a
slight moan, then she began drifting out again. Johnny
applied a sternal rub in hopes of keeping her from
losing consciousness and was successful.
"Dix, come on now, stay awake.
This is no time for napping."
Her eyes fluttered, and she tried focussing on the face above her, squinting. When John Gage became clear enough to see,
she looked away, seeing all of the other faces that stared down at her.
"What
happened?" she asked simply.
John smiled at her question as he
began getting a new set of vitals on her.
"Well, why don't you tell us
what happened,"
She looked around with a blank
expression on her face. "I'm in a fire station?" she asked.
"That you are," Johnny
said grinning, his look of concern not going unnoticed on him nor his partner
by the crew. He turned his eyes to
As
"Squad 51, you're breaking up,
could you repeat those vitals?" It was Dr. Brackett's voice, but
"Squad 51, do you copy?"
The doctor's voice was clearly sounding his anxiety.
"
"Rampart, this is squad 51. Uh, sorry for the delay. Our patient was a little
disoriented and became slightly aggressive. We had to restrain her until she
calmed down."
Kelly Brackett looked at Joe Early
and Mike Morton, who had been told who 51's patient
was and stood by, awaiting any news. "10-4 51. Is
she still being restrained?"
"No Doc, she's now stuperous,"
During all the commotion when
"Cap, we're going to ride in
with her, okay?"
Chapter Three
The
men of station 51 sat, stood, and paced in the doctors lounge, waiting on any
word on
In spite of everything, Hank Stanley
caught himself grinning. Truth be known, if
His thoughts were disrupted as
"How is she?"
"Is she awake?"
"What do the doctors say?"
"Does she remember anything
yet?"
The paramedics didn't answer any one
question, and their serious expressions brought on a silence that stilled the
room. Mike Stoker took it upon himself to get them some coffee as
"Her vitals are stable right
now, but she had a small seizure in the ambulance - gave us quite a scare on
the way in."
"Has she regained consciousness
again yet?" Captain Stanley asked.
"She did," Johnny began,
"But she's kind of 'in and out' right now," he answered, accepting
the coffee mug Mike brought him.
"Is she gonna
be okay?" Chet asked, his worry clearly evident
across furrowed brows.
"But?"
Chet's question was answered with silence. "Come on, there's something
you're not telling me - what else is wrong with her - what have I done to
her?"
"Chet, you didn't do a thing to
her - it was an accident, don't you understand? Any one of us could have been
mopping that floor, and you and I both know that the floor is slick even when
it's dry,"
"What else is wrong with
All eyes turned towards the door as
Dr. Brackett came in, looking a cross between worn and worried. He wasn't a bit
surprised to find all of Station 51 in the doctor's lounge.
"How's she doing, Doc?"
Johnny spoke up.
"She's doing pretty well, actually. She's still a little out of it,
but that's to be expected with the concussion she's got," he said, helping
himself to a cup of coffee. He smiled. "She's got herself a pretty good
headache though, but it's just a concussion - no skull fracture."
Captain Stanley looked at all his
men, letting his eyes fall on a much-relieved fireman. "It was an
accident, Chet. And she's okay. How about you? You feeling
better now?"
Brackett listened to the exchange, then cast a worried look at the fireman.
"Did you get hurt too?"
he asked, setting his coffee cup down on the counter.
"No," Chet quickly
answered, "but it was my fault that
"He had just mopped the kitchen
and she came in and slipped, Doc," Marco interjected.
Brackett grinned slightly,
understanding the fireman's guilt. "Doesn't sound like you did it on purpose, and she remembered falling before I left,
and wasn't blaming anyone except herself. She said something about wearing
tennis shoes from now on when she had a day off instead of heels," the
doctor smiled. "Tell you what, Chet. Why don't you go into the treatment
room for a minute and visit with her before they take her to a room. See her
for yourself."
Chet's face seemed to lighten from
his words. "You mean it, Doc?"
"You can come with me right now
if you'd like …" he began, only to be interrupted by the Captain's handset
going off.
"Engine 51,
squad 51, unknown type rescue.
"Engine 51 and squad 51, 10 -
4," Captain Stanley responded. All the men rushed from the room, with Chet
in the lead. He stopped suddenly, turning towards Dr Brackett. "Tell
Unfortunately, Marco didn't
recognize Chet's sudden stop, thinking he was going to swing the door wide for
them all to go through. Lopez was pulling on his turnout coat and collided head
first into the door as Chet finally swung it open, realizing the rest of the
crew was on his heels.
The noise of Marco's head hitting
the wood sounded like someone cracking a two-by-four in half.
"Damn!" came his cry,
instantly grabbing his forehead, blinking several times from the blow.
Dr Brackett, Roy and Johnny ran in
front of him, looking him over with professionalism, seeing the red bump
forming quickly above his right eye. Luckily the skin wasn't torn, so no need
for stitches was obvious.
"You all right?"
"Yeah, I'll live," Lopez
stated rather coldly, giving a disgruntled look towards Chet.
"I'll call in a code I, you get checked out by the doc here," Captain
Stanley announced. Before he could pull out the handset, Marco protested.
"I'm fine Cap, really - if I
feel bad later I'll come back," Marco stated, reopening the door of the
lounge for them all to leave, purposely bumping Chet's caboose.
Hank looked from Marco to Brackett,
who looked towards Johnny and Roy.
"Just keep your eyes on him - you know the drill."
With that, the men were gone
instantly, responding to their call.
~ * ~ * ~
Once they arrived on the scene, the
Captain, Marco, Johnny and Roy went up to the second floor to determine what
exactly the rescue was, while Chet and Mike stayed behind to keep an eye on the
engine and squad. They would also be able to deliver any equipment necessary
deemed needed for the rescue.
The 'unknown type rescue' that
they'd been called upon turned out to be an elderly lady with Alzheimer's that
had become disoriented about her whereabouts and hyperventilated, causing her
daughter to think she was having a heart attack. Once she'd been calmed down and her
breathing returned to normal, the ambulance was canceled. It was determined a
trip to the hospital was unnecessary, and her daughter was advised to take her
to their own personal physician.
Roy and Johnny exited the apartment first, followed by Marco, then their
Captain, who closed the door behind him.
Within seconds, Marco stood still,
leaning against the hallway wall, causing Hank to almost run into him from
behind.
"Hey Pal, you okay?" the
Captain asked, seeing his firefighter looking somewhat pained when he turned to
face him.
Marco swiped his hand across his
face, his fingertips gently rubbing his forehead. "I, Cap, I uh, don't
feel so good," he answered, then fell backwards
into the Captain's hold.
"
Both paramedics were making their
way down the staircase when Hank's shout made them turn abruptly. Just in time
to watch their Captain enfold Marco in his arms and gently lay him down on the
floor. They rushed back up towards them, mouths agape at the sight they held.
Setting their equipment down beside
their colleague, the paramedics quickly began assessing Marco's condition -
Captain Stanley called in the code I, asking that the ambulance be sent yet again to their
location.
Hearing their Captain call headquarters, Mike and Chet ran quickly up the stairs
to find out who was hurt. As soon as they got to the second
floor, Chet, who was ahead of Mike, stopped suddenly at the sight before him.
His sudden stop caused Mike to run into him and then bounce off - almost
falling back down the stairs. Luckily he regained his balance, thanks to the
railing he grabbed hold of.
Chet didn't even realize that Mike
had run into him - too stunned at the realization that Marco now lay
unconscious below the paramedics, most assuredly because of him.
Mike was at first angry about the
sudden halt, but then understood all too well his shiftmate's
anxiety. "It'll be all right, Chet," the words spoken softly to
unhearing ears. Both men continued forward.
"Rampart base, this is squad
51," John said, looking at the two firemen who joined them. Seeing the
shock evident on Chet's face, he pulled the mouthpiece away from his face long
enough to ask Mike to retrieve the stokes.
"Rampart base, this is squad 5 - 1,"
"Go ahead 51," Joe Early's voice
came through.
"Rampart, we have a male
victim, a firefighter, age 29, the victim of a
previous non-apparent concussion. No
symptoms were evident until just now, uh, the injury was incurred about thirty
minutes ago."
"Have you got vitals on the
victim yet, 51?"
"Stand by, Rampart."
Chet's mind was swirling. The words
were rolling over and over that Dr. Early had just spoken. 'The
victim. The victim…' What they were saying was HIS victim - another
person struck down by his own stupidity. His thoughts were distracted by a few
choice words in Spanish mumbled by Marco, who was slowly coming around.
"Get off me, I'm all
right," the fireman exclaimed as the paramedics continued their hold.
"What happened?" he asked, calming down as he looked at all the men
hovering above him.
"You fell out on me, my
friend," Captain Stanley grinned, his eyes still showing his worry over
the prone fireman. "How're ya feeling?"
Marco grinned a little as his body
relaxed. "I guess not so good, eh?"
Chapter Four
Marco was taken to Rampart and after a
full skull series and a small battery of tests, it was determined he had a mild
concussion and would be a guest of the hospital over night. Nothing
major. Nothing to be concerned over. Simply precautionary.
But that didn't help Chet any.
By the time they arrived at the
station, Chet was keeping to himself severely, opting for spending his time
alone in the dorm rather than with his crewmates - his friends.
When Marco's replacement arrived,
the station was back on call and preparing for dinner.
"I'll go talk to him, Cap. He's
just reading more into this than there really is," Roy stated, drinking
down a half a glass of water.
Captain Stanley sighed, then nodded his head. "Okay Roy, give it a try. But if
you can't get through to him, it'll be my turn. I don't want something as
simple as mere coincidences clouding over him and affecting his job, if ya know what I mean."
They all knew what he meant. These
freak accidents could have Chet doubting his own self-worth, and possibly
complicating his job performance for fear of harming someone else. No matter
how far from the truth it really was.
~ * ~ * ~
Dinner was eaten in relative
silence, except for the few comments about the weather or the latest ball game
- anything to get Chet distracted and talking.
When the fireman hardly said a word, but actually volunteered to do the
dishes, Captain Stanley knew it was
time he had a talk with him.
"Hey Chet,
why don't you let Mike get those dishes, okay bud? I'd like to have a
word with you if I could?"
Instead of answering his commanding
officer, Chet continued to wash the dishes, scrubbing vigorously, as if he
thought that if he worked on them hard enough, Hank would magically disappear.
It didn't work.
"Kelly?" The tone was not
questioning, it was more of a command.
Chet froze. Then he turned around, suds flying freely. The fury in his eyes
told everyone he was about to blow.
"You know what?" he began,
pointing a sudsy finger to everyone now standing around him, then shaking off
the suds a bit dramatically. "I'm scared that I'm going to hurt each and
every one of you! I know what you're all thinking - the same thing I am -
Chet's a friggin' jinx! I feel it every time I walk
by you guys! Even you, Boynton," he said, pointing to Marco's temporary
replacement. "You haven't seen it yet, but I'm telling ya,
I'm a hazard to be around," he said, his words softening as his anger
turned inwardly.
"Now that's just not true
Chet," John began, his eyes locking with Chet's. "We all know damned
good and well that it's just been a couple of accidents, and that's all there
is to it. It could have been any one of us mopping the floor this morning, and
this afternoon? Well, let's just say we all have our klutzy moments." The next words from his mouth were barely
audible. "Me more-so than any of you combined."
Chet looked down at the floor, a
slight grin tipping his mustache.
"And," their Captain
added, "seeing as these were simple accidents, I don't want you letting a
couple of coincidences affecting your job - and keeping you from being by our
side when we're going to need you the most." There. He'd said it.
Something he intended to speak of in private, but now felt was necessary for
their sudden 'group meeting'. As he suspected, the rest of his men joined in.
By the time everyone had said their peace, Chet was smiling,
thanking them for their confidence. You could tell he wasn't feeling like the
heel he'd felt like a few minutes before.
When the tones sounded, Captain
Stanley sighed, looking up towards the ceiling with a
silent thanks that this mess was hopefully over with before they'd been called
out on a run.
~ * ~ * ~
The men entered the bunk area with slumped shoulders and
shuffling feet. The run had been a difficult one, more than making up for their
lack of runs before dinner. An empty warehouse, burning from
the inside out thanks to a few kids who thought that it'd be fun to watch the
place go up. Problem was, they had no way of
knowing the family of three had been living in there. They were rescued, but
not before sustaining serious burns and smoke inhalation. The boys had come
forward, too shocked from the understanding that they might have killed
innocent people with their prank to realize they were admitting to arson.
The fire totally destroyed the
building, keeping the men of station 51 busy for more than five hours.
Johnny and Roy were already back at
the station when the engine returned - their run to Rampart with the victims
then release got them there twenty minutes before, but sleep didn't come easily
until the rest of the company returned.
Once the men were in their bunks,
the Captain's voice interrupted the almost silent room.
"How's Marco and Dixie?"
he called out, settling comfortably beneath his blanket, knowing the paramedics
would check up on their friends.
"Dixie is fine and resting
comfortably," Roy began, shifting under the sheets.
"And Marco's fine too,"
Johnny started, keeping his arm across his eyes in his usual sleeping position,
"he was trying to bribe us into bringing him back with us."
The crew could be heard chuckling
from their bunks.
"Bribe you guys with
what?" Mike asked, stifling a yawn as he spoke.
"Chili," both paramedics
answered simultaneously.
The laughter died down as each man
fell into blissful slumber.
Chapter Five
The
morning came too quickly to the men of 51. The second run they'd had that night
had been a long and hard one. All of A-Shift sat or stood around in the
kitchen, listening as one fireman blew off steam. Chet's demeanor was such that
everyone was eyeing him with worry when he wasn't looking.
Characteristically a 'Gage feature',
Chet could not stop himself from carrying on over the
ignorance of the parents whose daughter had died not three hours ago.
" … She was only thirteen, Cap!
And they let her sleep in the attic like that! No way to escape - nothing! I
just don't understand."
"Yeah, Chet, I know your
frustration," the leader spoke softly, a deep sigh rolling out behind his
words, "but kids can be very convincing, and, well, at her age, I'm sure
she just wanted some privacy."
Hank stood beside Chet at the
counter, drinking the coffee he'd just poured as he watched the fireman
continue, listening intently.
"Enough privacy to smoke her
cigarettes without Mommy and Daddy finding out," Chet retorted
sarcastically. "And burn the house down to cinders."
His last remark made him fume at the
sight beheld in his mind - a house destroyed and a child's life abruptly
brought to an end.
"It's just so damned
wrong!" he shouted, bringing his emptied glass down on the counter with
surprising strength.
The noise of the glass shattering
brought all eyes upon him again. Then just as suddenly, all
eyes went to Hank, who cried out in pain, quickly covering his face.
"Shit!" Johnny was the
first to notice the blood trickling from beneath the Captain's fingertips. He
and Roy were on either side of him at his outcry.
"Come on, Cap, let me see,
okay? C'mon, let me see," Roy spoke soothingly, trying his best to pull
the man's hands away from his face while Johnny ran out to retrieve their
equipment.
Chet stood back, mouth wide, staring
in disbelief. He didn't even notice the blood trickling down from his own palm.
When Johnny got back into the
dayroom, he set up their equipment on the kitchen table while Roy and Mike
gently led Captain Stanley to a chair beside it. Once seated, hands still covering his face
and his discomfort obvious, Roy knelt down in front of him. Gently, he pulled
the hands away, and the collective gasp from the crew murmured his silent
thoughts.
"Try not to move your eyes,
Hank," Roy spoke softly, grabbing the sterile gauze and saline solution
that Johnny was already handing to him.
'Oh God, he called me Hank', the pained
man thought, listening to every breath around him as his eyes remained still
and closed. 'Must be bad. Must be
bad.'
Chet wiped the sweat from his
forehead, his eyes never leaving the Captain. He didn't even notice the sting
as the salt of his sweat tinged his cut hand. And no one was aware of the blood
he smeared across his face and down his cheek.
All eyes remained stoically on Hank Stanley.
Roy worked to clear the drying blood
on the Captain's face with gentle strokes while Johnny took his vitals.
"Do you feel dizzy at all?
How's the pain?"
"Huh?" The Captain caught
the conversation directed towards him, albeit after the fact. "Uh, no, not
dizzy, and yeah, it hurts like a …ouch, dammit!"
"Sorry, Cap," Roy said
with empathy. "we have to wrap you up. Rampart
wants us to bring you in and check you over and then they'll get you all taken
care of."
Hank sighed. He hadn't even heard
them talking to Rampart. He had noticed that they hadn't given him anything for
pain, but years of experience from watching these guys gave him the knowledge
that they couldn't. Any medication worth a damn would effect his pupils reaction to light, and they had to make sure that the
piece of glass in his eye wasn't already doing that.
"I called in the code I," Mike
said, "I stood down the station and there's an ambulance on the way,"
he added softly.
"No. No! I don't need an
ambulance!" the Captain was clearly getting upset as his head moved from
one side to the other, pleading with the paramedics working on him without the
eye contact.
"It's
okay, Hank."
'There he goes, calling me by my
first name again.'
"Look Cap, it's probably almost
here by now. It's just a routine ride in, ya
know?" Johnny gave a try at his best bedside manner. "That way we can
get you in there quickly and outta there just as
quick, okay?"
He wanted to say 'no'. In fact, he wanted to scream the
word. Instead, he nodded his silent comply, hearing the siren approaching of
the dreaded vehicle. He could see John's lopsided grin in his mind from his
nodded agreement.
"Jesus. Chet! What happened to you?!"
The words spoken by Boynton echoed
as everyone's head turned towards the fireman. Even the Captain's head wrapped
in gauze turned in the right direction.
"Damn Chet! Are you okay?"
Johnny exclaimed as he stood, immediately rushing to his side.
"I'm fine! What? What!?"
"You're covered in blood, and I
know it's not the Cap's here," Roy said, also standing as he grabbed up
the gauze and saline from the table and walked up beside him.
Captain Stanley also stood, his
wounds suddenly forgotten as terrible thoughts of one of his men hurt and
bloodied flooded his thoughts.
"He's okay Cap, you sit back
and rest." Kind words and the soft nudgings of
Mike's firm hands clasping on his shoulders caused the Captain to sit back down
and listen to what Roy and Johnny were discussing about his crewman.
"I don't see anything,"
Johnny said, wiping off the dried blood gingerly as he continued to probe, then showing the bloodied gauze to Chet to prove there was
indeed a need for concern.
"Don't seem to have anything
over here, either," Roy acknowledged, looking at the left side of the
fireman's face while John studied the other.
"I told ya
I wasn't hurt," Chet almost whispered.
"Well Chet, this blood had to
come from somewhere," Johnny retorted.
Roy just happened to look down and
see the puddle of blood where Chet once stood in front of the sink. Thinking
with his experienced instincts, he remembered where and how Chet had stood, and
grabbing his left arm, discovering the gaping slice in the man's palm.
"You must've wiped your face
without realizing it," he stated with a matter-of-fact demeanor.
"You're going to need stitches."
"I'm fine," Chet's words
were monotone. His hand could've been dangling from his wrist; he simply didn't
care.
Johnny helped the Captain get
settled on the stretcher once the attendants came in, and notified Rampart of
their second victim, who would be coming along for the ride. Roy had done a
fair job of convincing Chet he had to go, but when the stocky fireman continued
to protest, he simply reminded him that this was his opportunity to keep an eye
on Hank. The psychology worked well. Though Chet was deeply plagued by his own
guilt, he still needed to know he hadn't done permanent damage to the man's
eyesight, something the paramedics could not convince him of otherwise.
B Shift was beginning to filter in.
At least Hank knew he didn't have to worry about another shift on top of
everything else. Between the lack of sleep and all his other worries, not to
mention the aggravation nagging at him that he just might never return to his
duties because, well, there just is no such thing as a blind Captain, he became
extremely silent. Mike could handle their questions, because right now, he had
too many of his own to deal with.
Chapter Six
The
ride to the hospital was spent with the Captain constantly questioning the
too-silent Chet. Questions like, 'How's your hand?', 'Are you feeling okay?',
and even a 'What's the weather looking like out there?' did nothing to bring
the fireman's guilt down a notch. It only amplified it. Roy watched the
exchange, not quite knowing what to say. He caught himself wishing that he were
driving the squad in instead of his partner.
"Listen, Chet," Captain
Stanley's tone was quiet, sounding almost reflective in thought, and Chet did
listen. "I can't stand you feeling guilty over this. It was an accident,
pal, and that's all it was. Do you understand me? This was not your
fault."
Chet could do nothing but nod at his
leader as he watched the blurring scenery go by, not even realizing that his
actions couldn't be seen. He knew if he tried to speak, the emotions that would
begin pouring out would not be so easily squelched. He was never so happy as
when they turned in towards the hospital - at least he wouldn't be pushed to
say anything further, and soon, he'd know how badly he'd injured his Captain;
his friend.
~ * ~ * ~
Johnny walked in with Chet as he was sent to treatment room 3, and Dr.
Morton stood waiting with a nurse neither man had seen before. The suture tray
was already set up and waiting, as was the doctor - impatiently.
"So, Chet.
How'd you do this may I ask?" the doctor questioned, having Chet sit on
the gurney as he unwrapped then examined the wound.
"Broke a glass and blinded my
Captain," the fireman answered without emotion, blocking his feelings
evenly.
Mike looked from the hand to Johnny,
whose face was clearly pained by the words.
"You did nothing of the kind,
Chet," Johnny said with an almost exasperated tone. "The Cap has a
piece of glass lodged just below his right eye," he explained to both the
doctor and the patient, "and we just took precautions to make sure he
didn't move the eye around and possibly do any damage. That's why he was
wrapped up like that Chet," he said, hoping his words were convincing.
"Are you telling me that there
is no way possible that he could lose his sight in that eye?" Chet asked,
no, more demanded of his crewmate.
No, he couldn't guarantee that,
Johnny thought. If the glass went in deep enough, and caused enough nerve
damage … no, he had to let those thoughts go. But not before Chet could read
them on his face.
"He'll never forgive me,"
Chet stated, barely above a whisper.
"There's nothing to forgive.
Man, why won't you listen to anyone? It was an accident!" John didn't mean
to yell, but his weary mind wasn't in control of his mouth at the moment.
"Who are you trying to
convince, Johnny? Me, or you?"
Dr. Morton listened to the exchange
as he inserted the needle to administer the local anesthetic. Chet never
flinched.
~ * ~ * ~
"I'm going to remove these bandages
now, Hank," Dr. Brackett stated as he began, "but I want you to keep
your eyes closed and try not to move them, alright?"
51's Captain replied a quiet 'Sure thing,
Doc,' as Brackett continued and Dr. Mattox, the head of optometry on call,
stood by.
Once the bandages were removed, the
doctor pushed in the skin around the glass' puncture, causing a moan to lightly
escape Hank's lips. He removed his probing hands and sighed slightly.
"Sorry, Hank.
Listen, when I tell you, I want you to slowly open
your eyes. I know the light is going to make them sting, but try not to squint
- you can blink frequently, but that's it. Don't look around -just keep your eyes
straight ahead. Okay?"
The Captain nodded, and Dr. Brackett
told him to begin.
Relief flooded him as his sight
began to focus. He was seeing things - the wall, the x-ray lamp, the medicine
cabinet. He felt almost giddy as he realized his sight was still intact in both
eyes.
"I can see out of them Doc,
both of them," he said enthusiastically.
Dr. Brackett smiled. "I thought
as much, but let's check things out a little further, okay?"
Hank nodded. He was then asked to follow
the doctor's finger as it moved the whole circular range around the Captain's
face, with the stern warning that should he experience any discomfort
whatsoever, he was to immediately stop.
Once that was done to both Doctor's satisfaction, Kel
removed his finger from in front of the Captain and crossed his arms, smiling.
"Looks like
it's just a flesh wound, Hank. We'll get that glass out in no time. I'm
going to give you a local and then we'll remove it and stitch you up, I'm
guessing about four stitches should take care of it."
"Thank God," the man said
happily, exhaling as if he'd held his breath during the entire procedure.
"Yeah, thanks
~ * ~ * ~
Johnny left Chet in Mike Morton's care as the suturing began, going for
supplies so that when the squad was returned to the station, it would be ready
to go for B shift.
As he finished gathering the last of
the saline he'd needed, a tap on his shoulder surprised him, causing him to
turn suddenly. With that sudden turn, the box his supplies had been collected
in fell from his hands and onto
"Glad you didn't have bricks in
there, Junior," he chuckled, gathering the box up and placing it back in
his partner's grip.
"Yeah, well I'm glad it didn't
break your foot or something. Ya know, somehow I
think Chet would've blamed himself for that, too. How's Cap?"
"Oh, he's just great,"
"Yeah, I know what you
mean."
"I'm guessing by the smiles on
your faces that the Cap and Chet are okay?" Mike asked hopefully as he
walked towards the paramedics.
"Cap and
Chet? Say, what happened to them?" Marco interjected, walking
towards the waiting room.
"Marco, what are you doing
dressed and walking around here?" Johnny asked,
his tone more than surprised.
"What?" Marco began, a
look of false hurt furrowing his brow. "You're not happy to see me?"
He raised his left hand to his chest, emphasizing his well-acted emotional
pain.
"Well yeah, but, uh, I thought
you weren't being released until this morning!"
"Yeah,"
Marco smiled. "
Well don't tell anyone, but Dr. Brackett let me go early. In fact, I was
released a half hour ago and was already brought down in a wheelchair. But my
aunt was supposed to pick me up at 9, and I hadn't seen her yet, so I thought
maybe she got confused and was maybe in the emergency waiting room, and hey -
wait a minute - you didn't tell me what's going on! Why are you guys
here?"
Roy, Johnny and Mike all explained
bits of the morning's occurrences to Marco until he had all the facts, shaking
his head sadly. "That poor man is probably scared to show his face around
us now. I better go talk to him," he said, referring to Chet. "Are
you sure Cap's okay?"
"Yeah, he's in treatment one,
you can see him for yourself," Johnny answered. "And Chet's in three
when you're done."
"Are you sure you're
okay?"
"Oh yeah, better than them, you
know? Listen, if Chet comes out before I get outta
there with the Cap, just tell him I said wait for me, oh, and if you see my
aunt …"
"No problem," Mike
answered, grinning as they watched Marco leave. "He looks as busy as the
doctors around here."
The paramedics smiled their
agreement.
"I just hope he can get through
to Chet before the next shift starts," Johnny stated, then looked at
~ * ~ * ~
Johnny and Roy exited the elevator, glad to
know
"Took you guys long
enough," Marco said grinning. "How's
"She's fine, just fine," Johnny
began. "How are you doing Cap? Chet?"
"We're both just fine,"
the Captain grinned, clapping a hand on Chet's shoulder. "Aren't we
Chet?"
"Yep, we both lived to tell
about it and only four stitches a piece, not bad." Was that an actual smile on his face?
The paramedics were surprised, but
happily. This sudden mood swing of his had them both curious.
Marco simply winked at them, which
still left them clueless.
As each man explained who was riding
with who (Chet with Marco and his aunt, Cap with Mike) Johnny and Roy began
passing 'looks' between themselves until they were back in the squad, heading
towards the station.
"What was THAT all about?"
Johnny asked incredulously. "Chet was acting like nothing was wrong, and
if Marco winked at us one more time I was gonna ask him if he needed to see a doctor about his eye twitching
problem!"
"Naw. I don't buy it. You didn't see him, Roy. That
man had the worst case of guilt I've ever seen when he was talking to Morton.
You just don't get over something like that so quickly."
"He looked a lot better than
when we first brought him here."
"Yeah, but with Chet, nothing's
that simple."