Paramedics with Psychic Tendencies
“Okay, okay…got it,” mumbled John Gage as he looked up from the book in his lap. “Roy, I’m projecting an image into your brain right now,” the paramedic intoned as he pressed his fingertips to his forehead. “Tell me what it is.”
DeSoto glanced away from the road long enough to give his partner an incredulous look. “Should I even ask what this is all about?”
Johnny dropped his hands from his forehead with a huff. “It’s this book on ESP, man. Says here that a psychically-gifted person can project thoughts and images into another person’s brain if they concentrate hard enough.” He raised his hands once more and pressed fingertips above his eyes. His gaze bored into the side of the senior paramedic’s head. “Now tell me what image I’m projecting.”
Roy slowed for a yellow light and brought the squad to a halt when the stoplight flicked to red. He turned his attention to Johnny. “Well, right now about all I’m picturing is that loose seed bouncing around in that gourd of yours.”
“Roooy…c’mon, man,” There was a definite whine in the younger paramedic’s voice.
“You don’t seriously believe in all that bunk, do you?” The light turned green, and Roy pressed his foot down on the gas pedal.
“Well, yeah—I mean, no, I didn’t—but then I went on a date with this chick, Dalia, and she told me she thought I had psychic tendencies. She told me the name of this book, said I should read it.” Gage waved the book under Roy’s nose. “Now I think she might be right.”
“You really think you have some freaky psychic mojo going on, huh?”
“Well…yeah. You’d think so too if you’d read the book.” Johnny dropped the book and resumed his earlier position. He stared at the senior paramedic and squinted his eyes. “So…the image?”
Gage was nothing if not persistent, and DeSoto knew best to just humor him when he got on these kicks. He thought for a second and muttered, “I see a…a…flower.”
“What! A flower? No way,” Johnny deflated, enthusiasm leaking fast. “It was a sailboat.”
“Huh. Looks like there’s one paramedic with psychic tendencies who needs more practice.” Roy winced and groaned inwardly the second the words slipped past his lips. Now he’d gone and done it. Johnny was sure to drive all of Station 51s crew right around the bend.
“You know what?” Gage snapped his fingers. “You’re right. I don’t think I was concentrating hard enough. I just need to practice.” His fingers melded to his forehead once again. “C’mon, let’s try this again. What image am I projecting?”
“A sailboat?”
“Rooooy…”
Fin
