Saddled: The Realization
By Audrey W.
John Gage groaned as he reached out with his right hand to shut off his alarm on a night stand beside his bed. Lying on his back with his head still on the pillow and left arm partially across his face, he turned his head slightly to glance at the time in the dimly lit room from the early morning light outside shining through the curtains. Yes, he'd set the alarm correctly. It was time to face the day.
He grimaced as he pushed back the covers, then slowly brought himself to a seated position. Clad only in light blue boxer shorts, the soon-to-be-on-duty paramedic cautiously moved till his legs hung over the side of the bed. He'd never felt pain in his lower half like he did now and if the effort of just getting out of bed was any indication, it was going to be a long shift ahead of him.
Maybe I can walk it off, he thought to himself. But he'd have to take a few steps to even try, and he stopped with his first one, a hand reaching out to the night stand for support.
"Dammit," he groaned.
Gage wondered what he’d been thinking the day before, besides about extra money, of course. If only he had given it more thought beforehand, eased into it instead of rushing things. Now he was going to have to think of a way to explain himself without coming across as. . .
Foolish. . .
John sighed with that last thought. He had boasted to the rest of the A-Shift crew at Station 51 that he was so good with a rope that he was going to make extra money doing calf roping at rodeos. He wasn’t wrong about being handy with the rope. However, there was something he didn’t take into account. It had been quite some time since he’d been on a horse.
After a gingerly, painful walk from his bedroom across the short hallway to his bathroom, the paramedic looked at himself in the medicine cabinet mirror over the sink.
“What’m I gonna tell Cap? The rest of the guys? Oh man, Chet is never gonna let me live this down,” he groaned. Chet Kelly was the one shiftmate who seemed to thrive on giving Gage a hard time. He was going to run with this one. Even his partner Roy DeSoto was likely going to have fun with this slip up.
John glanced down at the sink, then returned his gaze to the mirror, a pained expression still on his face. “Practice! It was only practice. Man, did ya hafta do a full day the first day? Have ya ever heard of taking it slowly?” He shook his head. Of course he wasn’t going to get any answers besides what he already knew, since he was asking himself.
He’d gotten over enthused, which he had a tendency to do with ideas he got and often repeatedly failed to catch himself before ending up on the losing end.
But as bad as all that seemed, there was even more to be concerned about. How was the first climb up a ladder going to feel with the soreness of his lower half?
“Never mind a ladder,” he was once again telling his own image in the mirror. “How’re you gonna climb in and out of the squad? Or even before that, the Land Rover?”
Be he tough or not, it was not going to be easy.
John winced as he hobbled over to the tub and turned on the water for a shower.
Maybe a hot shower’ll help, he thought to himself. It sure couldn’t hurt.
Now dressed in uniform, Gage gingerly sat on a small travel pillow he’d put on a chair at his kitchen table. He’d taken it out of the back of his Land Rover as he felt the stiffness in his hips and legs onset the night before. His hope of the hot shower helping with his soreness was short lived. It didn’t have much effect at all.
So now he just needed to get a jelly donut and coffee in his system, then head out for his shift at Station 51 to face whatever was ahead. The pillow was definitely going with him. Every bit of padding would help. But it wouldn’t exactly make it any easier to face the crew. In fact, it was probably going to add to his woes with them.
He sighed for at least the fourth time since waking up, then glanced at his watch.
“Well, time to get it over with,” he mumbled with a last gulp of his coffee and remaining few bites of the donut plopped in the trashcan against the wall.
John grimaced with each step down to the ground level from his second floor apartment, his pillow in hand as planned. He gripped the outdoor handrail as he made his way toward the parking lot below.
“Oh man, what was I thinking. . .?” He wondered again.
When he reached his Land Rover that was several yards away from the building, the paramedic opened the driver’s side door, then took a deep breath as he climbed inside after putting the pillow on the seat. He couldn’t help but let out a gasp or two before he was finally in place.
John had to grit his teeth as he tried to settle into the seat, even with the extra padding.
“Oh yeah. This is not gonna be fun.”
All he could do now was hope no one was in the station parking lot when he got there because getting out was going to be pretty pain-filled as well.
It was just practice! He thought to himself again with a groan.
John grinned lopsidedly when he saw that no one was just getting out of their car at Station 51. So far only Marco’s vehicle was there already. C-Shift was apparently still out on a run, the apparatus bay empty. That meant he needed to get inside quickly before anyone else arrived.
“Ha, quickly,” he snorted with a laugh.
“Ah. . .ah. . .ah,” Gage gasped as he forced himself into a run of sorts after gingerly climbing out of the Land Rover, his teeth gritted during the process. He had his pillow in hand again. His plan was to head straight to the breakroom and sit on it. Maybe then he could figure out how to hide his woes.
Marco walked into the room just after the hurting paramedic had taken a seat against the outer wall of the breakroom.
“Good morning.”
“Good, ha. . .” he scoffed in return.
“What’s the matter? Did you have a bad day off?”
John looked at the curious fireman. “Look, I’m sorry if I came off cranky. I’m just not feelin’ my best.”
“Did you miss your practice? Were you sick?”
He picked up a magazine to avoid eye contact. “Nope, I went, the ropin’ went well. I’m just not. . .” He glanced up from the magazine in time to see Roy come in through the open doorway from the apparatus bay.
“Hope you’re not as shot as your partner over there,” Marco said from beside DeSoto, indicating Gage.
The dark-haired paramedic raised the magazine a little higher, wishing somehow he could hide. But instead his extra-happy-ready-to-talk partner was on his way over. It was the moment of truth he’d dreaded. At least on a good note, the only good note of the day for him so far, Roy informed him that a nun they’d rescued the previous shift was recovering well from serious injuries sustained in a school bus accident. If only the conversation didn’t change to the topic of his rodeo practice, followed by a phone call from Anita, a pretty girl he'd met at the bowling alley about a two weeks prior and he'd almost given up on ever hearing from. He had to get up to take the call in another room. . .unfortunately, there was no hiding his slow pain-filled failed attempt at a dash for the phone, one that brought smiles to both Marco and Roy. Especially when the latter discovered the discarded padding on the previously occupied chair.
I just felt inspired to play with the characters a bit.
