By The Bite of The Silvery Moon

Drip……..… Drip……...… Drip……..… The slow but steady sound of water dripping worked its way into Roy's consciousness. The victim, where was the victim? Roy's heartbeat increased, his breathing became rapid. He tried to sit up but found himself tangled in something. There must have been a collapse. Drip……. Drip……. Drip……. The water dripping. They must still be fighting the fire somewhere close. Where's the victim? Where's Johnny? I have to find them. Drip…. Drip…. Drip.... He tried to move but was unsuccessful. He tried to call for help but couldn't make a sound. With great effort he forced his eyes open …

And saw Joanne lying in the bed next to him. A dream. Just a dream. Roy rolled over and returned to sleep. Drip.. Drip.. Drip.. Great, one of the kids left the water dripping in the shower. Someone should turn it off. Roy rolled over again and pulled the blankets around his head. Drip.. Drip.. Drip.. Wait a minute. That's not in the shower. It's raining. Drip. Drip. Drip. No, it's too close to be outside. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Splash. Drip. Drip. Drip. Splash. Splash!!

Splash??? Suddenly Roy was wide-awake. "Oh man! Joanne, wake up! I don't believe this! Of all the …"

Joanne groaned. "Roy, it's still dark out. Honey, let me sleep just a few minutes longer." Joanne rolled over and felt her leg hit a wet spot on the bed. "Oh Roy! Did you let Jenny come into bed with us again? She peed the bed Roy!" Joanne opened her eyes enough to see a clearly distraught Roy standing above her.

"Get up Joanne. Jenny didn't wet the bed."

"Roy, don't tell me you…" Before she could finish the sentence, Joanne woke enough to be fully aware of her surroundings. Roy didn't think he'd ever seen Joanne move that fast in the middle of the night.

"Oh my God. Roy, do something!"

As she spoke, Roy was doing the only thing he could at that moment. He grabbed the wastebasket, pulled the now soaked covers off the bed, and strategically placed the wastebasket on the mattress to catch the water that was no longer just dripping into their bedroom from the roof above.

"Not my hand painted wastebasket Roy!"

"I'll go get the trash can from the kitchen. Leave that there until I get back." Roy added as Joanne reached for the wastebasket on the bed.

When he got back, Roy quickly replaced the bedroom wastebasket with the kitchen trash barrel and held it above the bed while Joanne removed the sheets and put down a trash bag. Putting the barrel back on the bed, Roy used the already wet blankets to prop it up and keep it from tipping on the unstable surface of the mattress. Once he was sure the set up was stable, he stepped back to survey the situation. Clearly the water was somehow pooling above the leak. The plaster on the ceiling was wet and sagging directly above the bed, with the water streaming out of a small hole that had opened. Roy grabbed the first sharp thing he could find, a ball point pen, and climbed up onto the bed.

Joanne thought her husband had taken leave of his senses when she saw him reach for the ceiling with the pen. "Roy, what in the world are you doing? Why are you writing on the ceiling? You're going to make the hole even worse, Roy. Are you doing that on purpose? Oh!" Joanne gasped as Roy easily pushed the pen through the soggy ceiling and widened the hole. A rush of water poured out. "Roy, cut it out! Do you want to flood the whole room?"

Roy had long ago learned that with his wife, as with his partner, it was best to let the rant reach a natural conclusion before responding.

"I know I'm making it worse, Jo. The water's coming in through the roof. There's nothing I can do to stop that right now. But water travels the path of least resistance. It's already ruined this part of the ceiling. Hopefully, if it's easy for it to come through here, it won't find other paths and ruin anything else."

As Roy climbed off the bed, his foot got tangled in the blankets and he lost his balance. On instinct he grabbed for the nearest object which was, unfortunately, the barrel. He landed butt first on the floor just as the barrel landed tilted down on the bed, dumping the cold and dirty rain water on Roy's head. He jumped up off the floor, moving quickly and stubbing his bare toe on the dresser. The language that came out of his mouth at that moment was not suitable to be heard by his 5 year old daughter who had just appeared in the bedroom door.

"Mommy, your bed's getting all wet. You better turn that water off. Daddy, Mommy said you shouldn't say those words 'cause they're bad."

"Jennifer, go back to bed. It's only 1:00 in the morning. Joanne, why don't you go make up the couch in the den. I'm going to finish making sure this barrel is stable, and put on something dry. Then I'm going to look around and make sure we don't have any more leaks. Then I'll be down to go back to sleep."

"Daddy, you can't go to sleep with wet hair. You could catch cold and die. And you're not supposed to be anywhere but your bedroom or the bathroom with just your underwear. That's against the rules too. Right, Mommy?" Since entering kindergarten, Jennifer had become the household keeper of the rules, making sure everyone knew what they were doing wrong. It was not an endearing trait.

Roy looked down and realized that he was, indeed, dressed just in his boxers, soaking wet boxers at that. "Your mother's right, Jennifer, but I am in my bedroom. As for you, young lady, you need to be back in your bedroom going to sleep."

"But Daddy..."

"Jennifer, go to the bathroom, then go to bed. Now!" This time the instruction came from her mother.

"But Mommy, I just think that Daddy should try to not break the rules. Don't you think so Mommy?"

It was Roy who replied. "Jennifer Lynn DeSoto, you have been told twice now to go back to bed. If you aren't back in bed by the time I count to 10, I'm going to seriously think about breaking another one of our rules about no spankings. Understand?"

"But Daddy…"

"1!… 2! … 3!!!"

Jennifer was in bed before Roy reached 5, but not before mumbling that she wouldn't have woken up in the first place if they hadn't been making so much noise, which was definitely against the rules.

It took Roy and Joanne another half hour to get everything cleaned up. The rain had stopped, hopefully for the night. At 2 AM Roy climbed onto the not so comfortable pull out couch with his wife and tried to focus on getting 4 more hours sleep rather than worrying about what he was going to do about his roof. He was only mildly successful.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Roy was quietly humming as he entered the station. He was surprised to find Johnny already at his locker when he arrived for the shift. "Hey partner, what gets you here so early?"

"Would you believe my car died?"

"Well that's not good. What happened? How'd you get to work?" Roy rolled his shoulder to try to get the kinks out as he put on his uniform shirt.

"I caught a ride with my neighbor. The car died last night. You probably slept right through it, but just after midnight last night the skies opened up and we got a torrential down pour. I was on my way home from a late dinner with an old friend. Anyway, the roads flooded and I hit this pothole that I didn't know was a pothole until I was in it. I lost a tire and my whole electrical system went buggy. I had to get a tow. It's at the mechanic now. He's trying to dry things out. I bet you're glad you were home in bed all warm and dry."

Roy had to laugh. "Well, in bed is accurate. The rest is seriously debatable." He went on to tell Johnny about the events of the night before. "So, do you know anything about repairing roofs?" he asked when he was done.

"No problem. The two of us can fix it. So, are you guys gonna need a new mattress?"

"Oh wow. I hadn't even thought about that. No, hopefully we can dry this one out… Man, I don't have the money for a new mattress."

"Yeah, well join the club. I don't have the money for a new tire or electrical work on my car. I see overtime in our future. Who would have guessed a midnight rain storm could be so expensive?"

 

Roll call had barely begun when the crew got their first call of the day.

"Station 51, child trapped at Rampart General Hospital, Emergency Room."

Captain Stanley replied to the dispatcher and handed the call sheet to Johnny. "At least you won't have to lug your bio-phone."

Johnny's navigation skills were obviously not needed for this response so he was able to focus on other things, including the fact that Roy was again humming. Something about it was nagging at Johnny, but he couldn't put his finger on it. He was about to say something to his partner about it when Roy started a conversation on a totally different line.

"Hey, Johnny, where exactly do you figure a kid can get trapped in the ER that they would need the fire department to get him out?"

"I can't imagine, but I think we can be fairly certain it's gonna take more than a little Vaseline to get him out."

Upon pulling up to Rampart, the paramedics quickly agreed they didn't need to bring their medical gear. However, the men followed their Captain's lead and donned their turnout jackets and helmets before entering the ER.

Sirens are just a noise that blends into the background in an ER, so the approach of the squad and engine did not draw attention. Roy and Johnny were, of course, familiar faces so their presence would barely be noted under normal circumstances. But they rarely entered the hospital in their turn out jackets and never in their helmets. Today they were out of place, and the 6 firemen drew many stares and many more concerned looks from staff and patients.

Kelly Brackett was just coming on duty and had no idea what was going on until he almost walked into a fast moving Johnny as he turned the corner.

"Whoa there, slow down," Brackett admonished. "Where's the fire?" he added before realizing that a fire was exactly what these men were dressed for and that may be the reason for their presence. "Bad choice of words. What's up?"

"We were kind of hoping you could tell us, Doc," Roy explained. "We got a call for a child trapped in the ER. That's all we know."

Brackett was about to say that he would go find out, when Morton appeared in the door of treatment room 3 and motioned the men inside. The room was empty except for Morton. For the briefest moment both Roy and Johnny expected to hear that the call had been premature and the situation was resolved. But then they noticed that one of the gurneys had been pushed over next to the wall under the air vent. The grate from the vent was on the floor.

Johnny looked at Morton and shook his head. "Oh man, you've got to be kidding! You've got a kid in the air vent? How in the world did that happened? What'd you do to him, Doc?"

"He's a she. She's 6 years old, skinny, and didn't want a tetanus shot. The babysitter brought her in. The mother's been called but can't be here for another hour. I left her with the baby sitter while I went to find a nurse to give her the shot. Carol told me she saw the babysitter leave. I guess she figured we had it all under control. I came back in and found the set up just like this." Morton gave the details more for Dr. Brackett's benefit, wanting to offer some explanation to his boss as to how a child in his care could end up stuck in an air vent.

"You sure she's in there, Doc?" Captain Stanley wanted to know. "I haven't heard anything. Maybe she left with the babysitter?"

Morton rolled his eyes at both the question and the situation. "She's in there alright. She's just not talking now because she's mad that I called the fire department." Then much louder he added, "Isn't that right, Cynthia?"

A child's voice from above answered. "I'm not talking to you. You are a mean man and I'm going to tell my Mommy on you when she gets here!"

The vent was at the very top of the wall. A quick look out the window to the right of the vent showed that the vent was at the juncture of two wings with the outside wall of the adjoining wing directly behind the vent. "It looks like the vent goes straight out from here," Stoker observed.

"Ah, Mike," Brackett asked, "Do we have a medical emergency on our hands here? What was her condition before she climbed into the vent? Do you know if she hurt herself getting up there?"

"She's not hurt as far as I can tell, just stuck. I can see her feet, but I can't reach her. The tetanus shot was because her parrot bit her this morning. Can't say that I blame the parrot."

"I heard that," came the voice from above. "You are a mean, mean, man."

"Listen, kid…" Mike Morton began before being stopped by Dr. Brackett. "Mike, let's you and I back off and let the fire department do their thing, okay?"

The fire department's "thing" had already begun. After making sure that the gurney was locked and wasn't going to roll anywhere, Johnny had climbed up to where he could get a good look into the vent.

"Cindy, my name's Johnny. I'm a fireman. We're going to have you out of there real soon, okay sweetie?" Johnny had a real way with scared kids. But this child was apparently not scared and definitely not impressed.

"Johnny," the child mimicked Johnny's inflections and intonations exactly, "my name's not Cindy, it's Cynthia and you better have me out of here soon or I'm telling my Mommy on you too, okay sweetie?"

Roy caught Johnny's eye and shook his head before Johnny could say something to escalate the verbal sparring match. When Johnny climbed off the gurney Roy reminded him that she was only 6 years old compared to his 27 years and a battle of the wits would hardly be fair. He didn't say who he thought would win.

Johnny would have loved to hand this one off to his partner, but it wouldn't work that way this time.

"What do you think, John? Will you fit?" Cap asked, trying to develop a game plan.

"Maybe. I will at first at least. It gets narrower, but I can at least reach her legs. Depending on how much of the stuck is physical and how much is fear, I may be able to pull her out that way. You know, I really have to start putting on some weight. I'm getting pretty sick of being the only one who can get into small places. Someday you guys have to tell me how you manage to stay so pleasingly plump." Johnny grinned at the opportunity to get in a jab at not only his crew mates, but Brackett and Morton as well. Chet opened his mouth to respond, but a look from the Captain told him it would not be welcome in front of the victim and the doctors. He decided to save it for later. He figured this kid was bound to give him ammunition that he could use for weeks to come.

Johnny had already taken off his helmet. He now took off the turnout coat. The protection of the coat may save a few scratches but it was going to be a tight fit even in just his shirtsleeves. This time both Roy and Johnny climbed up onto the gurney. Roy took a moment to check out the situation, then helped Johnny climb into the vent, hands held out above his head. With Roy's assistance, Johnny was soon in as far as he was going to go, but it was far enough.

To an unknowing observer, the scene would have seemed quite bizarre. A pair of legs from the knees down, sticking out of the wall, 7 feet above the floor. Doctor Brackett leaned over to Captain Stanley and whispered, "I've seen our boy in a lot of strange situations in this Emergency Room, but this is one I never imagined."

Captain Stanley smiled, wishing he had a camera for this one. "Well, Doc, at least this time he gets to leave without a bandage or stitches of his own."

As if on cue they heard an exclamation from the vent above. "OW!! Oh man! God da…"

Roy adjusted the flashlight he was holding to try and see what had elicited the near expletive. "Johnny, are you okay? What happened?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Some of these bolts have come off and the screws are sticking up. I just scraped my arm on one of them," he told Roy. To Cynthia he said, "Cynthia, I'm right behind you now. I'm going to reach out and touch your foot. Okay?"

"You swore. I'm telling," was the child's reply.

Johnny took a deep breath and reminded himself not to argue with this child. "Well, actually I think I stopped before I swore, but you're right, I almost did. Cynthia, can you tell me if you're hurt anywhere?"

"Duh! I'm in a hospital. My hand hurts where my parrot bit me."

She's the victim. She's only a little girl. "Right, I forgot. How about anything else? Does anything besides your hand hurt?"

"No. I want to get out now. I want to go home."

"Okay swee… Cynthia. I'm going to do what I can about that right now." Johnny put his hands around the girl's ankles. "Do you think that if I pull real easy on your ankles, you can push some with your hands and we'll see if we can't get you unstuck?"

Seeing a chance to get out, Cynthia was now somewhat more cooperative. At first it seemed to be working. Very carefully Johnny pulled on the child's ankles. She pulled back about 5 inches then Johnny felt a new resistance and stopped.

"How ya doin up there, Cynthia?"

"My shirt's stuck on something. It's gonna rip and my Mommy is gonna kill you."

"Thanks for the warning. I'll work that out with your Mommy. But for now I want to get you out even if it rips your shirt, okay? Are you stuck anywhere but on your shirt do you think?"

"The shirt cost ten dollars and you're gonna to have to pay my Mommy for it," was Cynthia's only reply.

Johnny couldn't believe this kid. "Okay, Cynthia, I'm going to try pulling just a little harder to try to get your shirt unstuck. Don't worry if you feel the shirt ripping. But if you feel anything else get stuck or start to hurt, you tell me right away, okay?"

With somewhat less bravado Cynthia answered, "I really like this shirt."

It was a small opening, but Johnny would take it. "Well, maybe it's not stuck as bad as it seems and your Mommy will be able to fix it. Okay, we're going to try again in just a second. Remember, you tell me if anything hurts. Hey, Roy?"

"Right here, Johnny."

"I need you to pull me back about 6 inches."

"You got it." Roy pulled and Johnny's knees emerged from the wall.

"Thanks. Okay Cynthia, here we go." Johnny pulled at Cynthia's ankles and again felt the resistance. He kept up the easy but steady pressure, pulling her back only centimeters. Then he felt something give and the child was a little easier to move. Johnny stopped. "You okay, Cynthia?"

This time there was a slight stammer to her voice. "I'm okay. My shirt's not stuck any more."

"Okay then," Johnny continued, his voice calm and steady. "You try pushing again and I'll try pulling again. We'll go slow."

The slow and steady approach worked for another 2 inches when suddenly Cynthia screamed. Johnny released her ankles immediately.

"Cynthia, what's wrong?"

Now the child was crying. "My arm. Something's biting my arm. It won't let go! Make it let go! What is it? Is it a rat? Get me out of here, please!!!!!!!"

Johnny instinctively returned to the use of diminutives. "Cynthia, sweetie, it's okay. There aren't any rats in here. I promise you that, okay? Nothing is biting your arm. You're probably scraping it on a screw that's sticking out, just like I did a few minutes ago."

"It won't let go!!! It hurts!!!"

"Okay. Tell you what. Let's try pushing you forward again just a little and see if it lets go."

Johnny pushed Cynthia forward back into the vent about 2 inches. The child didn't stop crying, but Johnny could feel some of the tension leave her body.

"Is that better?"

Cynthia said that it was, between sobs.

"Okay Cynthia. I'm going to get out of here for just a second, but I'll be right back, okay?"

"NO!!! You're going to leave me here. I'll die of thirst and starvation! Don't leave me alone!"

She certainly does have a flair for the dramatic. "Cynthia, honey, I'm not leaving you. I'm just going to talk to my partner and see if we can figure out how to get you out of here without hurting you anymore. Okay? I'll still be right here in this room." Before she could answer Johnny told Roy to pull him out.

Once out of the vent Johnny quickly got off the gurney, as did Roy. They joined Captain Stanley and the doctors in a huddle conference. Marco and Chet tried to keep up a steady stream of conversation with Cynthia to let her know she had not been abandoned and to try to distract her from the situation at hand.

"What's the situation, John?" Cap asked. It was Dr. Brackett who noticed the blood stained tear on the shoulder of Johnny's shirt.

"Let me look at that shoulder," Brackett said, pushing Johnny toward a chair.

"Later, Doc."

"Johnny…"

The paramedic didn't give Brackett a chance to continue. "No offense, Doc, but now is not the time. It's not bad and right now I have a job to do. We still have a victim in the vent and unless one of you plans to lose some bulk and weight in the next few minutes I can't come out of the game for a few bumps or scrapes."

Brackett took the reprimand in stride. "You're right. I guess it's instinctive. You, a treatment room, blood… But that's not the focus right now. Sorry."

"Actually Doc, in a way it defines the problem. Cap, that vent is full of protruding screws. It's sturdy, but clearly the manufacturer or the person putting it together never envisioned someone being inside it. I can't get in any further than I did and at best I can reach her knees. From what I can tell, the vent narrows at a place that right now is just between her shoulders and upper body. I could probably pop her out by pulling hard enough, but you heard her scream when I pulled just a little. One of those screws jammed into her good. I think we're gonna have to dismantle the vent."

Roy nodded. "We'll need the saw."

Captain Stanley had been considering all this and had an alternative idea.

"Johnny, you said that the screw jammed into her arm at her shoulder. Are all the screws along the same plain?"

Johnny thought for a minute then spoke to Marco who was still entertaining Cynthia. "Hey Marco, can you climb up and see if you can tell if all the exposed screws are on the same plain in the vent?"

Marco grabbed the flashlight and climbed up and looked. "Johnny, looks to me like they're all at about 3 o'clock. I don't see any sticking out anywhere else."

Johnny was nodding, pretty sure he knew where Cap was going with this.

Stanley explained to the others. "If we can push her back in enough to get her un-jammed we can twist her. We'll still have to pull to get her through the narrowing, but we can maybe position her so that the exposed screws are in an open space rather than pushing into her."

Morton now understood as well. "You mean like putting her on her side instead of her stomach."

Johnny had another glitch however. "I'm not at all sure I can get the leverage in there that I need to turn her on her side. Unless she can help me I'm not sure it will work. But it's worth a shot. Let's give it a try."

Johnny climbed back on the gurney and Roy and Marco helped hoist him back up into the vent. Johnny talked to Cynthia and with her help he tried numerous times to rotate her 90 degrees. But it just didn't work. Being only able to reach her knees and with no ability to change his own angle to achieve any leverage, all he could manage to do was twist her lower body while her upper body stayed stuck in the same position. By the time Johnny had Roy pull him back out, Cynthia was clearly upset and scared and was crying loudly and passionately.

Johnny shook his head as he and Roy climbed back down and Marco and Chet again took their place to try and calm the child.

"Wow, the crying really echoes in there. My ears are ringing," Johnny told the others. Johnny addressed Doctor Brackett directly with his next statement. "Doc, I'm sorry, but there's just no way we're going to get her out without dismantling the vent."

Brackett took a deep breath as he pictured himself explaining this to the finance committee. "Okay, obviously we do whatever we need to do. What's the next step?"

Mike Stoker and Captain Stanley explained where they would need to cut into the wall. Once through the wall they could dismantle enough of the vent to get Cynthia free.

Mike Stoker went to get the saw while Mike Morton went to see if anyone had heard from the child's mother.

"You know," Roy commented to Johnny and Brackett, "if her crying had your ears ringing, the noise of the saw echoing in that vent is going to terrify that kid."

"Yeah, I guess I better go back up and try to explain to her what's going to happen."

Once Johnny was back in the vent, he got Cynthia to stop crying long enough to listen to him. "Cynthia, I want to tell you exactly what we're going to do to get you out of here, okay? Can you hear me okay?"

Cynthia didn't say anything. "Okay, kiddo, I need you to answer me. 'Cause you know, if you're up there nodding your head, I can't see you."

Johnny thought he maybe heard a small giggle. "Oh yeah, I forgot. I hear you. I want to get out now, okay? This isn't fun anymore."

"Well, now I know that, but just think of the great adventure you're going to be able to tell your friends about. Okay, now you listen carefully and I'll explain exactly what we're going to do. My friends Mike and Marco are going to get a power saw and cut a hole in the wall. It's going to be loud, but you don't have to be scared because they're only cutting a hole in the wall and the saw isn't going to be anywhere near you. Okay?"

There was no response at first, then Cynthia answered, "You stay with me, okay?"

"Kiddo, I wish I could, but I'm so tall my legs are sticking right out of this thing and I'll get in the way. But it should only take a few minutes with the saw, then we're going to pull the vent apart and get you out and I'll be right here talking to you, okay?"

"Okay."

As Roy pulled Johnny out, Johnny again jammed his arm on an exposed screw. This time he managed to groan silently. Roy and John moved out of the way to allow the others to do their job. This time it was Roy who noticed Johnny's arm.

"Now you're bleeding from two places. You still okay?"

"It's just a scratch."

Twenty minutes later the vent had been dismantled and Johnny and Roy eased Cynthia out of her trap. Throughout the procedure Johnny had kept up a constant patter with the child and he was feeling pretty good about having gotten through her initial defenses. He didn't know what he expected when he pulled her into his arms as Mike took apart the last part of the vent. He didn't expect to get bitten in the shoulder.

"That's for calling me Cindy and ripping my favorite shirt!" the child said, her defiant demeanor returning now that she was free.

Before Johnny could respond, Roy pulled her from his arms and handed her to Joe Early who had joined the group 10 minutes earlier. "She's all yours, Doc."

Roy and Johnny started to help with the clean up but were stopped by Captain Stanley who was standing with Doctor Brackett. "Johnny, Doctor Brackett wants to look at your shoulder. Roy, go with Morton and get what info you need for your log. And guys, don't forget to take your turnouts with you when you leave. We'll see you back at the station."

While Brackett looked at the three separate injuries to Johnny's shoulder, Johnny apologized for the mess that had been made of the treatment room.

"Sorry there was no way to do that without tearing a hole in the wall, Doc. But Mike cut nice straight lines, so a good carpenter should be able to do a clean patch job. A little plaster over the seam and a new coat of paint and you shouldn't be able to tell. You should have someone install screws in those vent covers though. A screw would have slowed her down at least, but with that kid, who knows. Can you believe her? Ow!"

The last was in response to Dixie's cleaning of the bite mark.

"Oh well, we've been talking about redoing some of the treatment rooms with a fresh coat of paint. The finance committee will probably think that I planed this somehow. Looks like bandages will do nicely for the lacerations and bite John. Since you're up to date with your Tetanus, you're all set. Just make sure you keep them clean and use the antibiotic cream on the bite. I hate to think what germs are living in that kid's mouth."

When Roy joined the group Brackett took the opportunity to compliment the two on their efforts.

"We don't often see this end of your job, thank goodness. You guys handled yourselves well, better than some folks here. Nice job, thanks."
 

Back in the squad, the paramedics discussed plans for fixing Roy's roof. They agreed that if the day was slow, they would try to slip out at lunch and pick up what they would need so that they could fix it before the next rain storm.

The conversation lapsed and soon Roy was humming that song again. But again, before Johnny could identify why it was bothering him or ask Roy about it, the tones rang and they were summoned to the community mental health center.

A call to the clinic was not uncommon. One of the shifts ended up there every other week or so. The clinic treated hundreds of mentally ill patients every week. When one needed to be hospitalized, 911 was called and, much to the counselors' dismay, the whole team was dispatched to the scene.

When they arrived, it was Mary, the clinic director, who was waiting for them at the door. She groaned as she saw the engine, the squad, and the police pull up at almost the same time.

"You know," Mary said to Roy, "It doesn't matter what I say to the 911 operator. When I tell them where I'm calling from, they send the whole shebang. What they think an engine is going to do, I just don't know. And of course, the thing I need, an ambulance, you don't send."

Following protocol, all of the men entered the building and went to the fourth floor. All but Roy, Johnny, Captain Stanley and Vince stayed in the background, out of the way. Roy took the lead while Vince got the basic information and Johnny went through the chart he had been handed to get the basics on the victim's medical history.

"So, what have we got?" Roy asked.

Mary had all the information on the tip of her tongue. "Thirty years old. Name is Tyrone Jackson. He's been coming here for a year now. He's on Lithium. The dosage is in the chart. Diagnosis is Bi-Polar. Four days ago he was in the dumps depressed, barely functioning. His brother took him to the ER at St. Francis instead of bringing him here. The doc gave him an antidepressant on top of his Lithium." Mary shook her head in disbelief. "It had the desired effect, no sign of depression now. He's as manic as they come. Showed up here stark naked. Couldn't take the time to get dressed. Said he had too much to do and not enough time to do it. He only lives two blocks away which is how he managed to get here without a call to the police. We called his brother who brought clothes, but he won't put them on. Says they may be poisoned. He gets paranoid when manic. He thinks the CIA is following him right now."

"Why did he come here?" Roy wanted to know.

"He wanted to tell us he wouldn't be needing us any more. Seems he is cured and now has the power to tell what other people are thinking about him so he doesn't need medication or counseling any more. The good news is he hasn't taken the antidepressant since the second dose. The bad news is he hasn't taken his Lithium either."

Johnny and Vince had joined Cap, Roy and Mary now. "Is he violent?" Vince asked.

"Maybe, but he's a little guy and how violent can you be when you're naked surrounded by clothed grown men. The room he's in is bare. Just him, two chairs and a desk, so there's nothing he could use as a weapon really."

"Who's with him?" This time it was Johnny who asked.

"His counselor, Laura, and Brad, another one of our counselors. Last I knew they were just patiently listening, waiting for the Calvary to arrive."

"Where's his brother?" Roy wanted to know.

"Long gone. He dropped the clothes and left saying something about an appointment. I think he just doesn't really know how to deal with this."

Roy thought about the situation for a moment then started directing the rescue. "Cap, can you get on the phone with Rampart and fill them in. Have them stand by. Also, make sure an ambulance is on the way. Have everyone stay alert, but out of sight as much as possible. Vince, if it's okay with you, I think you should wait outside the door to start. As it is, our uniforms are going to spook him, but not as much as your gun. But be ready, 'cause he's not likely to be a willing participant. Mary, do you have the commitment papers?"

"All signed by our Doc. But the unit wants him to come in through the ER. They say they want medical clearance, but I think they're just overwhelmed at the moment and need to buy some time. But they can fight that out at Rampart. Either way, that's where our Doc has admitting privileges, so that's where he's headed."

Roy and Johnny entered the counseling room, prepared for anything. What they saw was a small, rather skinny black man, wearing nothing but sunglasses, pacing back and forth as he told the two counselors in the room that the CIA and the FBI were looking for him in connection with the assassination of JFK.

"My landlord bugged my apartment and he heard me talking to Oswald during a séance and he called the feds. Hey, who are you guys and what are you doing here? Are you FBI, DEA, CIA, or KBG?"

Roy took the lead. "None of the above, Mr. Jackson. We're paramedics with the fire department. The folks here called us because they thought you might not be feeling so well today. We work with the doctors at the hospital."

Tyrone jumped up onto the table and said, "Are you kidding? I've never felt better in my life." Before Roy or Johnny could say anything, Laura had intervened.

"Tyrone, you get down from there right now. That's no way to behave. You know you are a gentleman and a gentleman would not be swinging that … well you know what… in a ladies face."

That seemed to contain the man for a moment. He jumped off the table. "Sorry, Laura. Didn't mean to offend you, but you have to admit, I am quite the specimen."

If Laura was upset, she didn't let it show in her voice. "Now you know I am not going to comment on that, Tyrone. And I would be much happier if you would put on the clothes your brother brought you."

"No way, pretty lady. Those clothes are bugged, or drugged, or poisoned. There are new poisons you know that can't even be detected in an autopsy. It doesn't even matter though because those guys are in on it. They've been harvesting body parts and sending them to Russia for years in exchange for information. Some of them folks aren't even dead. You know that Nixon is still in the white house. That's right. They took Nixon's brain and put it in Ford so that it could look like Nixon resigned but he really didn't. Why do you think Ford, who's really Nixon, pardoned Nixon? 'Cause Nixon's really Ford and the only way to do the switch was if Ford got a pardon 'cause no way Ford was going to jail in Nixon's body. That's why the Feds want me. 'Cause I know all about their body swapping plots. They want to put Ted Williams brain into my body so that the Red Sox will have a chance at the pennant again…"

Roy interrupted. "Tyrone, I know a doctor who hates the feds who would be real interested in hearing about all this. Why don't you take a ride with me to the hospital and you can tell him all about it."

With that, Tyrone made a dive to get past the two paramedics. He got to the door before Johnny got in his way. "Hey man," Johnny tried, "we're on your side. We just want to help you find someone who will listen, that's all." Johnny had a good grip on Tyrone's wrist, but Tyrone raised his arm and bit down hard on Johnny's forearm, causing Johnny to yell out and let go.

Tyrone was on the run. Captain Stanley and Mike Stoker headed for the exits to try to prevent him from leaving the building. The other men took up chase, heading in different directions to try to cut him off. People started screaming as he ran naked through the waiting room. That started Tyrone screaming. Clients and counselors came into the halls to see what the commotion was. They too began screaming seeing a naked man being chased by men in uniform through the hallways. Paranoid clients were convinced that their worst fears were coming true. Anxious clients had panic attacks right there on the spot. Trauma victims ran and hid. There was crying and hyperventilating everywhere you looked.

Finally, Tyrone was cornered and restrained. It wasn't pretty. It wasn't pleasant. It wasn't particularly gentle. But it was necessary and no one was injured. The paramedics got permission for a sedative and within moments Tyrone was singing, safely restrained on the gurney. Johnny got permission from dispatch to remain at the scene a while longer and help calm people down, while Roy rode in with Tyrone. The crew helped clean up the mess.

An hour later, Johnny entered the ER in search of his partner. "Come on, Roy. If we want any chance of eating lunch, we better leave now."

Roy shook his head and grabbed Johnny by the arm. "Hey Dix," he called to the nurse who was rounding the corner, "anyone around who can clean up a bite?"

Dixie herded the two into treatment room one and asked, "What happened, is the bite causing you problems Johnny?"

Johnny shook his head, angry at Roy for having started this process. "No, I kind of sort of got bitten again." He showed her his forearm.

"Oh. This one looks pretty nasty. Roy, why don't you start cleaning it up while I find a doctor to take a look. Tell me Johnny, male, female, beast or human?"

"Male and I think human. You might have seen him. Roy brought him in."

"Ah yes, our paranoid tenor. He kept us all quite entertained until he was brought up to the unit."

"Yeah, well, you got him after the sedation. We're the ones who had to get the sedation into him."

"I heard. Okay, I'll be back in a minute."

 

Twenty minutes, a lecture from Dr. Early about avoiding people's mouths, and two stitches later, the paramedics were on their way back to the station.

"Can you believe this day so far?" Johnny asked Roy. "I mean, one bite in a shift is bad enough, but two, you'd think it was something in the air. Maybe they're all turning into werewolves. What do you say we stop and find something good to sink our own teeth into before we go back to the station? Something about Chet's warmed over hot dogs just doesn't sound appealing right now."

Roy agreed to the plan. On the way to the drive through Roy began to hum again. This time Johnny realized why it was bothering him.

"Roy, what's that song you're humming?" Johnny hoped he was wrong.

Roy blushed, not realizing he had been humming out loud. But, it was just Johnny so he started singing the tune. " 'Blue moon, you left me standing alone, without a dream in my heart, without a love of my own.' It's an old song. I think the Marcels recorded it."

"Why?" Johnny asked with a groan.

"Why did the Marcels record it?"

"No, why are you singing it?"

"Because you asked me…"

"No, I mean, why have you been humming it?"

"Oh. I guess I was thinking about it because they were talking about tonight's blue moon on the weather report this morning."

"Oh man, I was afraid you were going to say that. Roy, you do know what a blue moon is, don't you?" Johnny couldn't believe the things that were quickly adding up to trouble today.

Roy had never thought about it before. "I don't know. I just know it doesn't happen very often. You know the expression, 'once in a blue moon.' Why? What is a blue moon and why should we care?"

"A blue moon, Roy, is the second full moon of a month. There's a full moon tonight!"

"Which means nothing except that if it is clear out, we'll be able to see better in the dark."

"Now Roy, it's a proven fact that all the crazies come out in a full moon. You know we should have known. Both of us started having trouble at midnight. The day was doomed right from the start."

Roy disagreed with his partner. "Johnny, the only proven fact is that during a full moon, people everywhere blame every strange thing that happens on the moon, including things they may otherwise not even think strange."

"I'm telling you, Roy. You mark my words. This day is just going to keep getting stranger. You watch."

The conversation and lunch were both interrupted by the tones. "Squad 51, Unknown type rescue. See the priest at St. Matthews at 5229 Washington Street."

An elderly priest was waiting for them when they arrived.

"Good afternoon, Father." Johnny greeted the priest. "What seems to be the problem?"

The priest smiled at the men and blessed himself and blessed them before he began to speak. "It's good of you to come. My name is Father Winslow. I'm retired, in residence only, you know. Monsignor Spencer is out of town today. I heard some commotion out by the bell tower a while ago and went to check. Well, some young children had climbed up there and had disturbed some sleeping bats. They began to scream and were too scared to come down. I began to climb up myself, but Sister Marta insisted that she go. I think she thinks I'm too old. I'm 86 you know. But I still get around. I wanted to call the police, but Sister Marta, she didn't want the children to get in trouble so she climbed up there to help. I'm not sure what happened, but by the time I got up there, she was unconscious. That was 15 minutes ago."

Roy asked if Father Winslow could show them where she was. He pointed to the bell tower, which stood next to the church. It was at least 3 stories high.

"Roy," Johnny said, "We're going to need back up. You better call for an engine and an ambulance. I'm going to head up there now with the trauma box and the oxygen."

"Here, take the HT. I'll call from the squad and get the bio-phone and drug box. I'll be right behind you."

Father Winslow led Johnny to the spiral, narrow stairway leading to the bell tower. As soon as they began the ascent he noticed the bats. They had apparently come deeper into the stairway to escape the commotion upstairs. Johnny forced himself to ignore them, even though he wanted to cover his face and swat them away. He did promise himself that when the rescue was complete he would find a reason to send Chet back into the bell tower. Chet and bats were a combination he would like to see.

At the top of the stairs, Johnny and Father Winslow found two 8 year old girls crying and clinging to each other. Sister Marta was lying on her stomach not moving. She was dressed in full habit. Johnny moved the veils aside and quickly found a carotid pulse as he spoke to the girls.

"My name's Johnny. I'm a fireman and a paramedic. What's your name?"

"My llamo Carmen y mi amiga se llama Teresa. Nosotros sólo hablamos un inglés pequeño. ¿Habla español?

Johnny rubbed his eyes, wishing Marco was here. He understood enough Spanish to know that the girls were Carmen and Teresa, they didn't speak much English and wanted to know if he spoke Spanish. He wished the answer were yes. He looked at Father Winslow hopefully.

The priest just shook his head. "Sorry, the assigned priests here speak Spanish, but as I said, I'm just in residence. I speak Latin if that would help."

Johnny smiled at the priest then turned his attention back to the girls. "Soy arrepentido, no hablo Espanol." He did know enough to say he was sorry, he didn't speak Spanish. But he figured he'd ask for more information anyway, maybe he or Roy would pick up something. Roy had just joined them.

"Que pasa?" Johnny asked the girls. He knew it wasn't a real question for this situation, but he hoped they would know what he was trying for. It seemed to work.

"Subimos aquí para ver las campanas. Pero había murciélagos por todas partes. Nos asustaron. Madre Marta subió a ayudarnos. Pero los murcielagos entró ella vistidos y los velos.

"Ella intentó golpearlos con sus manos. Pienso que ella fue mordida. Entonces ella cayó. Ella no ha movido. Pienso que ella golpeó la cabeza."

It was little help. They picked up a few things. The sister had hit her head. The girls quickly understood that the men did not know what they had just said. They began showing them, pointing to a bat then to Sister Marta's skirts and veils. One girl pretended to bite her arm and then pointed to Sister Marta lying on the floor. Roy and Johnny were beginning to understand.

Johnny had already checked Sister Marta's pulse and respiration. Before they could go any further with their check, they would need to secure her neck with a cervical collar, get her on a back board and get her on her back. They were also going to need to rid her of some of her clothing. Johnny began trying to figure out how to remove the woman's veils as Roy set up the bio-phone to contact Rampart.

"Father Winslow, do you have any idea how all this works, how I get this off?" Johnny asked the elder priest.

"Oh my… no… I wouldn't… why would I…" the priest stammered.

Carmen came forward, having understood the problem from watching. She lifted the veils and showed Johnny the hooks. As Johnny removed the veils, a bat flew free causing the girls to scream. The girls' screams were followed by a voice from below the bell tower.

"Gage? DeSoto? Are you okay up there?" It was Captain Stanley.

Roy stood up so he could be seen from below. "Hey Cap. We need Marco up here to help with some translation. Have him bring the backboard with him. Also, this stairway is pretty narrow. It may be easier to lower her in a stokes with ropes."

"Will do."

Johnny had managed to remove the veils from the sister's habit. The cervical collar had been put in place, but the paramedics did not want to risk moving her onto her back until they had the backboard. Johnny had just finished getting her blood pressure when Marco arrived with the board.

With the addition of Marco and the board, the small space was now far too crowded for the men to be able to maneuver. Roy quickly explained the situation to Marco who spoke to the girls and learned that the bats had gotten up into Sister Marta's robes and the girls thought she may have been bitten before she tripped backwards and hit her head on the rail as she fell. He confirmed that neither girl had been bitten or injured. At Roy's request, he then accompanied the girls down out of the tower. He returned minutes later with ropes and began the set up that would allow them to lower the victim from the tower without having to maneuver her down the winding stairway.

Johnny suggested to Father Winslow that he may also want to go down. However, the priest firmly refused. "Really, I should stay with the Sister. It would not be appropriate to leave her alone with the two of you."

Roy and Johnny secured the Sister to the backboard and were finally able to roll her onto her back. They weren't surprised to find her face already bruising from the way she had fallen. Johnny also noted what looked like it could be a bite from a bat near her ear. Roy contacted the hospital.

"Rampart, this is squad 51. How do you read?"

"We read you fine, 51. Go ahead." It was Joe Early.

"Rampart, we have a female victim, approximately age 25, who apparently tripped and hit her head on a railing before falling on her face. She is unconscious and has been unconscious for since the fall, about 25 minutes ago. Her BP is 140 over 110. Respirations are 16 and strong. Pupils are equal, but somewhat sluggish. There is apparent adema around her left eye and nose. She may have broken her nose in the fall. Her nose is bleeding. There is no blood or fluid present in her ears and no blood in her mouth. We have taken full spinal precautions. Rampart note that the victim may also have one or more bites from bats."

"Repeat that last sentence, 51? Did you say bat bites?"

"That's affirmative, Rampart. The accident occurred in a bell tower that was infested with bats. At least one flew out of her veils when we removed them and there appears to be a visible bite near her ear. There may be additional bites that are concealed by the cervical collar and skirts."

Joe Early thought sure that Roy had said they had removed her veils but it wasn't important enough to ask about. "51, start an IV with D5W, maintain spinal precautions, and continue to monitor her airway. Don't remove the cervical collar, but check under the skirts for bites then transport immediately. "

Roy responded. "10-4 on the D5W and spinal precautions and monitoring of the airway. However, the victim is going to need to be extricated from her current position before we can transport. That is going to take about 15 more minutes."

"Okay, 51, transport when you can."

Roy had just stood up to assist in setting up the ropes to lower Sister Marta when he heard Father Winslow yell at Johnny.

"Now see here, young man. What exactly do you think you are doing? Stop that immediately!"

Roy turned around to see Johnny holding the skirt of the victim's robes in one hand and his scissors in another. Johnny looked at Roy before addressing the priest.

"Father, we need to cut her robes to check her for other injuries. The girls said that the bats flew up into her skirts. I know it would be better if we could do this without destroying her clothing, but with the risk of back injury, we can't move her around enough to get the robe off any other way."

"I will NOT have you removing her robe for any reason in any way. She is a woman of God and her order requires her to remain covered at all times. It's bad enough to have taken off her veils, but to remove her skirts, well, I just cannot allow that."

Johnny took a deep breath before proceeding. "Father, I appreciate your concerns and I assure you that we will protect both Sister Marta's privacy and her dignity. But if she's injured further, we need to know that. With two layers of thick black cloth in these skirts, she could be bleeding and we would never know it."

"Young man, under no circumstances are you to remove her skirts. A nurse can see to that at the hospital. If you take one more step to remove them, I'll see to it that you are brought up on charges. Do you understand?"

Johnny looked at Roy for any ideas. Roy decided to let the doctors decide. "Rampart, this is squad 51."

"Go ahead, 51." This time it was Dixie who answered. "Are you ready to transport?"

"Negative, Rampart. We've run into a situation. Rampart, the victim is a nun and was dressed in full habit when we found her. We removed her headdress, but the priest on the scene is stating that we must not remove her skirts to check for further injuries. He is threatening to bring us up on charges if we cut away her skirts."

Dixie had gotten Joe's attention and he got back on the radio. "51, what are her updated vitals?" Roy gave him the report. "51, go ahead and bring her in with the skirts intact. Continue to monitor her vitals. How long till transport?"

"Ten minutes, Rampart."

"Okay, get her here as soon as you can."

"10-4, Rampart."

Marco, Roy, and Johnny managed to quickly lower the stokes and the paramedics hurried down the stairway. Back on the ground, Johnny remembered his earlier promise to himself to get Chet into the bell tower.

"Hey, Chet. Can you go make sure we cleaned everything up up there before you go?"

Chet made a face but agreed. As Johnny was climbing into the ambulance behind Sister Marta he heard Chet screaming, first in surprise, then fright, then anger. "I'll get you for this, Gage!" was the last thing Johnny heard as the ambulance doors closed.

Five minutes from Rampart, Sister Marta began to regain consciousness. Her first response was to smile at the man bending over her, then her face filled with fear.

"Whoa, its okay. No need to be frightened," Johnny said in his best calming tone. "My name is Johnny and I'm a paramedic with the county. You took quite a spill in that bell tower and now you're in an ambulance on the way to the hospital."

Sister Marta tried to look around her, but was restricted by the collar and board. "The girls? Are they okay? Where are they? They don't speak English."

"They're fine, Sister. You were the only one hurt. They're back at the church with Father Winslow. I think he called their parents."

That news allowed the Sister to relax some. She began to become more aware of her surroundings. Johnny saw a brief look of panic in her eyes before they filled with tears.

"Hey, everything is gonna to be okay. The backboard is just a precaution because we knew you hit your head and you couldn't tell us where you were hurting. The fact that you're awake now is a real good thing. You're going to be fine."

Sister Marta would have nodded if she could have. Suddenly she jerked on the backboard and let out a gasp.

"What's the matter? Are you in pain? You need to try to stay still," Johnny said as Sister Marta tried to squirm around on the backboard.

"Oh no! There's something in my skirt. It's the bat. Oh, please, get it out. Oh no.! Please, help me!"

Johnny looked and indeed could see the material of the Sister's skirts moving around.

"Okay. Sister, can I cut your skirts off?"

"Yes. Oh yes. Anything, just please, get it out of there. Please!!"

Johnny quickly slit the skirts up the middle of the front and spread them open, allowing two bats to free themselves. Sister Marta sighed in relief. For a brief moment, Johnny worried about the consequences of cutting the clothes off a nun after being threatened by a priest, but that thought was quickly put aside as he realized he now had bats flying around the inside of the ambulance. He warned the driver and tried to keep them away from both the patient and the cab of the ambulance, fearful that it could cause an accident.

Sister Marta began to softly cry from fear as she was completely immobile with two bats flying about. With nothing to use but his hands, Johnny was swatting at the bats as they flew wildly about the confined space. Swatting at one of the bats, Johnny tripped and landed seat first on the bench in the ambulance, inadvertently trapping the other bat. It had no way to escape so it bit its attacker. Had the bat been hit one inch lower, it would have bitten into the leather of Johnny's belt. Two inches lower and it would have bitten into Johnny's pants, which would have provided some protection. But the material of his shirt did little to ward off the flying rodent's teeth and Johnny cried out as he hit his back and struck the bat with a killing blow. The other bat continued to fly freely about the ambulance.

As Roy climbed out of the squad, he was surprised that the doors to the ambulance had not yet opened. He quickly became concerned and rushed to open the doors. As he did, he was shocked to see a bat fly out. Inside, Sister Marta was crying as Johnny, who was looking green himself, was trying to assure her that everything was all right now.

Roy jumped into the ambulance and helped move Sister Marta as he asked Johnny what happened.

"There were bats in her skirts." Johnny grabbed a towel and picked up the dead bat from the bench. He held onto it as he helped guide the gurney into the hospital.

Roy and Johnny brought Sister Marta into the treatment room where Doctor Early was waiting for them. Johnny used only one hand as he helped move Sister Marta to the treatment table, still hanging onto the towel with his other hand.

Roy went to take the towel from Johnny, but Johnny refused to give it up, a fact which confused Roy, but he wasn't about to confront his partner here.

Keeping his towel laden hand behind his back, Johnny reached down to Sister Marta with his other hand and took her hand in his.

"Sister, I'm sorry about your skirts. You take care of yourself now. We'll check on you later to see how you are."

"Thank you, Johnny. Don't worry about the skirts. I'll have the doctor explain it all to Mother Superior. And don't worry about Father Winslow. He was just trying to do what he thought was right, but I'll make sure he understands."

As they left the treatment room, Roy again tried to take the towel from his partner. "You know, unless you're planning on keeping that thing to scare the living daylights out of Chet again, I suggest you throw it in the trash. It is dead isn't it?"

Johnny shook his head. "I can't throw it away. The lab will need it."

If Roy thought he was confused before, now he was totally lost. "Why would the lab want the bat?"

"So they can test it for rabies."

"Oh. Do you think it bit the nun?"

"Maybe. I know it bit me."

"What bit you?" Dr. Morton asked as he stopped, having overheard the conversation.

"This," said Johnny, opening the towel to show Morton the dead bat.

Morton stepped back in reaction to the sight in front of him. "Oh, that's gross, Gage. What is that anyway?"

"You are such a city boy, aren't you, Doc? It's a bat. It's dead now, but a few minutes ago it was flying around in the ambulance I was in and a few minutes before that, it was flying around in a nun's skirts."

"A nun's skirts?"

"You don't want to know. But you do want to get it to the lab to see if it's got rabies. If it does, you better let Doctor Early know and give me a call too, will ya?" Johnny shoved the towel into Mike Morton's hands and headed for the door. He might have made it if Roy hadn't gotten in his way.

"You said you got bit. You're not going anywhere until it's checked out," Roy told his partner.

"Come on, Gage," Morton said. "Treatment 2 is open."

Johnny just grumbled as he was led by his least favorite doctor and, at the moment, his least favorite partner, into the treatment room.

"So, where did it bite you, Gage?" Morton asked as he grabbed a plastic trash bag in which he secured the bat and towel in order to keep any germs or fleas or other things from escaping into the treatment room before he set it down.

Johnny couldn't believe this. "He got my left side."

"Take off your shirt."

Johnny did as he was told. Morton lifted Johnny's arm, but didn't see any sign of a bite.

"I don't see anything. Are you sure you got bit? Maybe it just bumped up against you."

"I'm not an idiot, Doc. I know I got bit. It's just a little lower. I guess I was bending over just right." The bite was just below Johnny's belt line. Johnny pulled his pants away from his waist and tried to bend to the side enough to allow Morton to see the injury.

"Don't be ridiculous, Gage. Unbuckle and drop em."

Johnny undid his belt and the button at the waist of his pants. Again he pulled the pants away from his waist and down a little to allow Morton access to his injury while trying to maintain some dignity.

"For cripes sake, Gage, you'd think you'd never been naked in here before. Not only don't you have anything I've never seen before, but I've seen yours. Now drop your pants before I have Roy cut them off of you!"

Johnny turned red and growled at Morton, but complied, exposing a nasty bite just at the level of his waist that was beginning to swell.

"Well, he punctured the skin. Are you up to date on your tetanus?"

Johnny could not believe he was having this conversation again. "Gee, where have I heard that question today? Yes, I'm up to date on my tetanus. And if I hadn't been before, I would have been after the kid you let escape into the ventilation system this morning, bit me."

If Morton had intended to hassle Johnny any more about his injury, that shut him up. After cleaning up the wound and covering it with antibiotic and a bandage, he sent Johnny on his way. As the two paramedics were leaving the treatment room, Morton stopped them one more time.

"John, you know bats don't usually carry rabies so I wouldn't worry too much about that. I'll let you know though as soon as I have the results."

As the men left the room, Morton heard Johnny telling Roy, "Not one word of this to Chet. Agreed? Not a word!"

 

Back in the squad, Johnny was initially silent. But as they pulled out of the hospital parking lot, he turned to Roy and said, "I told you."

"You told me what?"

"Oh, come on, Roy. You can't still really believe this is coincidence! Your roof and bed and my car get taken out in a freak rainstorm. Then not one, but three bites in one day? Admit it!"

"I admit that we, and you in particular, are having a very bad day. As to why, I refuse to blame it on astronomy."

The squad was just pulling into the station when the tones sounded and sent them on their way again.

 

The paramedics got out of the squad at a small house on the end of a dead end road. Although the location was isolated, the house looked like a typical little suburban house, with a white picket fence and a flower garden in the front. There was no sign of a car anywhere. Dispatch had reported a woman in labor who was home alone. The men carried the drug box, the oxygen, the bio-phone, and the OB kit as they approached the house.

The paramedics were surprised when a young woman answered the door and introduced herself as Sheila. Sheila looked to be about 25 years old. She was no more than 5 feet tall and couldn't weigh 100 pounds dripping wet. Dispatch had said the pregnant woman was home alone, but it wouldn't be the first time there had been a miscommunication of that sort.

Roy introduced himself and Johnny. Sheila just smiled and invited them in. Roy became more direct.

"Miss, we got a call for a woman in labor. Do you know anything about that?"

Sheila answered. "Oh yes. That was me."

Roy could tell this was clearly not going to go smoothly. "Well, its good that you called us. Can you show us to the woman in labor?"

Sheila smiled. "That's me. I'm the one in labor."

Johnny and Roy looked at each other and put down their equipment. Roy continued to take the lead.

"Sheila, how many months pregnant are you? Have you been having cramping? Why don't you sit down over here on the couch and tell us about what's been happening." Roy and Johnny were both expecting to hear the symptoms of a woman having a miscarriage. What they actually heard was quite different.

"I'm 12 months pregnant. My water broke right before I called you. My contractions are about 5 minutes apart. I'm not sure, but I think that means I need to go to the hospital."

Before either man could think of the proper way to respond, Sheila offered a more detailed explanation.

"Oh, I know, it's not your average pregnancy. But gestation is 12 months for Antarian babies. You see, I'm human, but the father is from Antaries. I had hoped to get to go to Antaries for the baby's birth, but the father wanted the baby born here on Earth. Something about dual citizenship."

Johnny set up the bio-phone leaving his partner to try to reason with the victim. Just as Roy was about to try to learn more about the woman's history, she screamed and doubled over in apparent pain. Johnny and Roy were both at her side in an instant.

"Sheila, can you tell me where you hurt? Can you point?" Roy kept his voice calm and comforting as he addressed the woman. When she didn't answer, he took her arm and helped her sit down on the couch. She still wasn't speaking. Roy reached for her wrist and checked her pulse while Johnny took her blood pressure.

"Sheila," Roy pressed, "you need to talk to me if you can. Tell me what's happening here."

Sheila looked up and made eye contact. Although she smiled, she looked tired and her face was covered in sweat. "That was the worst one yet. Wow, I hope this baby arrives before they get much worse than that."

"Sheila, can you show me exactly where the pain is when you feel it?" Roy wanted to know.

"It's all through my belly and back. You know, cramping only much worse. The breathing helps some, but not much."

Roy nodded. "Sheila, I want you to lie back on the couch so that I can check out your belly, okay?"" Sheila complied and Roy checked her abdomen for rigidity or tenderness. He found nothing.

"It's kind of funny, but it only hurts during the contraction. After that it stops hurting completely. Are human births like that too?"

Sheila seemed genuine in her presentation. If this was an elaborate gag, she was quite an actress. Johnny called the situation into Rampart. Brackett was the one to answer the transmission.

"Rampart," Johnny began, "we have a 22 year old woman who is complaining of abdominal pains occurring about every five minutes." Johnny struggled with a way to communicate the situation to the hospital without letting Sheila know they doubted her story. He decided the best way was to just tell them what they had observed. "The victim is about 5 feet tall and weighs about 100 pounds. She reports that she is in labor following a 12 month pregnancy with a baby from another planet."

"Antaries," Sheila contributed, clearly listening to Johnny. "Make sure you tell him it's Antaries. It could make a difference."

Johnny nodded. "Rampart the victim has requested that I specify that the father is from the planet Antaries." As Johnny was reporting her vital signs, Sheila screamed out with another apparent contraction.

Roy held his hand on Sheila's abdomen as she experienced the reported pain of labor. He then listened to her abdomen with the stethoscope. He continued to listen after the pain subsided. "Johnny, her stomach muscles were definitely contracting. I don't hear anything significant."

Sheila panicked. "What do you mean you don't hear anything? What about his heart beat? Can't you hear his heart beat?"

Roy responded with the goal of keeping her calm. "Sheila, my stethoscope isn't really designed to pick up prenatal heart beats so it doesn't mean much of anything, okay?"

Johnny was back in touch with the hospital. "Rampart, the victim is experiencing definite abdominal muscle contractions. We are unable to find a fetal heartbeat with our equipment."

"51, is the victim experiencing any cervical dilation or vaginal discharge?"

Roy explained to Sheila what he needed to check. When finished, he shook his head. "That's negative."

Johnny passed the information on to Rampart. "It's negative Rampart."

"Okay, 51. Start an IV with D5W and bring her in."

Roy started the IV while he continued to talk to Sheila. "Sheila, we're going to bring you to Rampart General Hospital. Is there someone we can call for you?"

Sheila shook her head no as she grabbed her abdomen again. "Oh my God, he's coming. I can feel him coming! Please help me."

Roy again checked Sheila to make sure there was no indication of bleeding or dilation. There was not.

"Sheila, there is no way that you are going to give birth before you get to the hospital. I promise you that. Believe me, I can tell that for sure, okay?" It wasn't a lie and Roy felt it was best to frame things this way for the moment.

Sheila nodded but now was crying. Roy and Johnny quickly loaded her into the ambulance and Roy set off for the hospital, leaving Johnny to pack up the supplies and bring in the squad.

On the way out to the squad, Johnny noticed the beautiful flowers that bloomed throughout the woman's garden, including the roses that covered the trellis rising next to the gate. He smiled, remembering the old saying that you should always take time to stop and smell the roses. With that thought in mind, he moved closer to some of the roses that were almost at eye level and closed his eyes and breathed in deeply to get the full benefit of the perfume. His eyes opened in shock as he felt the bee sting at the corner of his left eye. With his hands full of equipment, he could do nothing but back away and swear as he tried to shut his left eye to keep the bee from getting into his actual eye, while keeping his right eye open to see where he was going. He was only mildly successful and he tripped on the sidewalk, dropping the OB kit as he fell into the squad.

The fall resulted in a jammed little finger and a broken latch on the OB kit. As he drove back to Rampart, he could feel his eye beginning to swell. As he pondered how to avoid more scrutiny at Rampart, his mind could not erase that blasted song that now mocked him like a broken record in his mind. He decided that before his next shift, he was going to buy a copy of Blue Moon and break it just for the satisfaction.

 

Roy was waiting when Johnny entered the ER. He first noticed that his partner was carrying the OB kit, but not by the handle. He then noticed the red welt that had formed next to Johnny's eye.

Roy shook his head in disbelief. "What happened to you?"

Johnny put the OB kit on the counter and addressed Dixie, ignoring his partner for the moment. "Dix, I dropped the OB kit and the latch broke. Do you have a spare around?" Johnny hoped he could work this transaction through Dixie without involving Brackett who would no doubt offer a lecture about being more careful with the equipment.

Roy asked again. "What happened?"

Dixie smiled at Johnny and told him, "I'll trade you one OB kit for one explanation of the welt near your eye and the reason you're favoring your left hand."

Roy hadn't even noticed the hand. Now he looked his partner over more closely. "What else is wrong? What happened? You and the OB kit were in perfect working order when I left there."

Johnny looked at Roy then at Dixie and concluded there was no escape. "I got stung by a bee. In the process of trying to get away from the bee, I tripped and dropped the OB kit and jammed my little finger into the squad. But I'm fine."

Johnny was expecting a response from Dixie and Roy. But he was surprised to hear Brackett's voice behind him saying, "Come with me."

Johnny and Roy followed Brackett into a treatment room. "Hey, Doc," Johnny asked as Brackett directed him toward the table, "why aren't you with our alien baby lady?"

"We had OB/GYN and Psych waiting for her when she arrived. You know, her uterine muscles really are contracting. It will be interesting to see if there is a medical cause that she interpreted as labor pains or if she somehow is having somatic contractions brought on by the belief that she should be in labor.

"But as for you, my friend, just because you're impressed with the quality of care around here, that doesn't mean you have to personally utilize our services every time you bring in a patient. Roy, can you get me a BP? Johnny, do you know what kind of bee stung you? You're not allergic, are you?"

Johnny tried to hold still as Doctor Brackett examined the site of the sting and Roy wrapped the BP cuff around his arm. This is becoming really old, really fast, he thought as he answered Brackett's question. "I think it was a honey bee. And no, I'm not allergic to any bee stings as far as I know."

Brackett picked up a pair of tweezers and raised them toward Johnny. Johnny instinctively moved back. "Hey, what are you doing with those?"

Brackett shook his head. "The stinger is still in there. I assumed you would want me to get it out. Would you rather keep it as a souvenir?"

"Oh, well you shouldn't sneak up on a guy like that, especially not after the kind of day I've had."

Roy jumped in. "BP is 136 over 90. That's high for you, Johnny. You've got to relax, man." He managed to keep the smirk off his face, but not out of his eyes. Johnny looked at his partner to express his displeasure, but Brackett grabbed his face with his hand.

"Listen, Gage. Unless you want me to remove something other than the stinger by accident, you need to keep still. You're lucky the bee got you near the eye instead of in the eye, but in this case there's less than a centimeter difference and if you move a fraction, I'm going to miss the stinger and end up with the tweezers in your eye. In fact, I've changed my mind. Lie down."

"Oh man, look, I'll stay still. I promise."

"Lie down. Now!"

Noting the look on Brackett's face, Johnny said nothing else but complied with the instructions. Johnny closed his eyes so that he wouldn't wince as he saw the tweezers approaching. In seconds the stinger was removed and Brackett had moved on to Johnny's hand. Johnny started to sit up but was pushed back down by the doctor.

"Stay there. You're easier to deal with this way. I want to get an x-ray of your finger. I don't think it's broken, but it might be."

Johnny just shook his head. "I just don't believe this day! You know it's the moon. You know I'm right. Come on, admit it, both of you. The calls get crazier in a full moon. Do you know how many times I've been bitten today? This makes 4. Count them, 4! Roy, between us we don't get bitten 4 times a year and I've gotten it 4 times today. Now, you've got to admit, that's weird."

Roy was grinning as Brackett allowed his patient to sit back up. On Brackett's instruction, he took Johnny's blood pressure again as Johnny continued to rant.

"And the calls! Think about it. A kid stuck in a vent in a hospital, a nun attacked by bats, a naked man being followed by the CIA and now a woman who isn't pregnant in labor with an alien baby, don't you think that's weird? I mean, even the two of you have to admit that's out of the ordinary. It could only happen in a full moon."

When Johnny finally stopped talking, Roy offered his opinion. "Well, technically, this last incident was a sting, not a bite. And yes, it's been a strange day, but I still say it has nothing to do with the moon. And by the way, your blood pressure is back to 116 over 78 which only goes to prove that ranting is a comfortable, normal state of being for you."

 

Johnny's finger wasn't broken. By the time he was again cleared for duty, the sun had begun to set and the moon was slowly rising in the sky. For the first time since morning, the squad actually made it back to the station house and the paramedics had a chance to eat.

As they were eating, the other men of the A shift joined them in the kitchen to listen to the story of the alien baby. Chet shoved a piece of paper at Johnny.

"Dr. Morton called. He said to tell you the bat didn't have rabies. I didn't know bats could carry rabies. I can't believe you sent me into that place knowing there were bats there and they can cause rabies."

Captain Stanley wanted to know why Morton would be calling Johnny about the test results on a bat. Johnny told them about his day. Part way into his soliloquy, the engine was toned out to a brush fire. For the briefest of moments, the paramedics thought they had maybe earned some respite, but their fantasy was broken when their own tones sounded minutes later.

The call was on the edge of their territory, near the canyons. As they left the populated part of town, the men noticed that the night sky was clear. The moon had risen and was sitting huge in the sky, just above the horizon. It's silver light that lit the sky was of the type that must have inspired countless song writers over the years.

"Hey Roy?"

"Yeah?"

"I suppose that moon is pretty, but it's kind of freaking me out. I mean, I know you think I'm crazy and all, but I really can't wait for this shift to be over."

"Well, I do think you're wrong about the moon. At least, on a rational level I think you're wrong. But I have to admit that after the day we've had, that moon has me a little thrown as well. Kind of leaves me wishing for another rainstorm to cover it with clouds."

"Yeah, but it wouldn't help. Remember all this started in a rainstorm last night. You know, I've been thinking, why do you suppose the guy who called dispatch to report the hiker with the injured leg didn't just give him a ride to the hospital instead of leaving him out on the canyon road all by himself?"

"Who knows. Maybe the caller was a woman and was afraid to put a stranger in her car, even an injured stranger. Or maybe the hiker was a woman and was afraid to get into a stranger's car. Guess we'll find out when we get there."

"Yeah, guess so. Roy?"

"What?"

"Why do ya think I'm the one who keeps getting bitten today and you're getting off scott free?"

"Who knows? Dumb luck or dumb bad luck I guess. I mean, I may not have stuck my nose in that flower, but otherwise I would have done the same thing you did in every situation. I guess it's just your day to get bitten. Maybe next time it will be me. Or Chet. That could be fun."

"Oh… Roy?"

"What?"

"You know, I was thinking that maybe its like the opposite of the power of positive thinking, you know? Like I believe that bad things happen in a full moon, so they're happening to me. You don't believe it, so nothing is happening to you."

"I guess I don't really believe in that stuff either, pal. But, I hope you're wrong. 'Cause I have a real bad feeling about this one. Here's the turn off. I'll slow down. You work the search light. Hopefully the victim is in plain view."

Although there were no street lights, the search light was probably not necessary. The moon lit up the night with remarkable brightness and the paramedics quickly spotted the victim on the side of the road. Johnny went to her side while Roy got the gear.

"Hi there. I'm Johnny Gage and that's my partner Roy. We're paramedics. Someone called and said there was a hiker up here needing help. I'm guessing that's you."

The woman smiled, though even her smile couldn't hide the fact that she was in pain. "My name's Deborah. I fell and twisted my knee. I can't stand on it. You don't know how glad I am to see you. I keep hearing the dogs howling at the moon. I keep imagining that they're wolves or coyotes and that they're getting closer. Pretty silly, huh?"

Johnny didn't tell her that they probably were wolves or coyotes and that they didn't sound all that far away. Instead he chatted with her about what she was doing in the canyon and how she had injured her knee. By the time the ambulance arrived, the men had Deborah all set to go. But during that time, Johnny's view of the moon had shifted. He couldn't help but feel that it was a real gift tonight. It had kept the area light enough to keep the wild dogs back in the shadows of the brush and had likely kept Deborah safe. And it truly was beautiful.

Johnny joined Deborah in the ambulance. Roy closed the doors and pounded on the back to let the driver know they were set to go. As the ambulance pulled away, Roy was filled with a sense of foreboding that he couldn't rationally explain. He looked around him and quickly packed the last of the supplies back in the squad, silently kicking himself for not being prepared to simply follow the ambulance out of the canyon. As the dogs howled, the tune that had been haunting Johnny all day, played itself out in Roy's head. Blue moon. You left me standing alone!

As Roy was about to climb into the cab he heard a noise behind him. He turned slowly and saw a pack of coyotes at the edge of the brush. He turned back to the squad but tripped as he tried to step in too quickly, slamming his face into the steering wheel as he fell. Hearing the dogs again behind him, Roy ignored the pain and managed to pull himself into the cab and slam the door shut just as the leader of the pack pounced. The animal impacted with the squad. Roy started the engine and drove off, not caring to find out if the coyote had been injured. By the time he had the squad turned around and headed back for the highway, Roy realized he was shaking and bleeding.

Roy knew he should stop and call for help. But he wanted nothing more than to get out of the canyon area. Without rational thought or assessment, he drove back to Rampart, never stopping to assess the cause of the blood he kept wiping from his eyes or the metallic taste in his mouth that he kept swallowing.

The fact that Roy didn't stop to clean himself up or even look in the mirror before entering the emergency room was the clearest indicator that he was truly shaken by what had happened in the canyon. He found Johnny standing at the desk, talking to Dixie who was still on duty. Johnny looked up when he saw the expression on Dixie's face and heard her gasp.

"Oh my God, Roy! What happened to you? Dixie, we need a doctor…"

Dixie was one step ahead of him, coming up behind Roy and pushing him into the wheelchair she had grabbed and immediately heading into a treatment room. Roy was honestly stunned at the response.

"Stay with him. I'll find a doctor," Dixie told Johnny as she turned and left the room.

"What's with her?" Roy asked his partner, his shakiness apparent in his voice.

Johnny couldn't believe what he was hearing. He helped his partner onto the exam table and told him to lie down as he grabbed a BP cuff.

"What is your problem?" Roy asked, pushing Johnny away.

"Roy, you're covered in blood! Your face, your hands, your shirt. You've got a gash above your eye and on your chin and who knows where else. What the hell happened to you?"

Roy looked at his hands, noticing the blood for the first time. He absently touched the injury above his eye, knowing somehow that that was where the blood had come from.

"Oh, I think I hit the steering wheel when I fell."

Brackett entered the treatment room, being pushed in by Dixie who didn't think he was moving even close to fast enough for her liking. He thought she was being ridiculous until he saw the man before him. Roy was sitting on the table, but was looking none too steady. Dixie immediately reached down and adjusted the table so that it was in a semi-reclined position and pushed Roy back.

Brackett looked at the three people in front of him, all of whom he assumed knew more about the situation at hand than he did. "Dixie, get that shirt off of him. Johnny, get me a BP now. What the hell happened?"

Seeing the condition of his shirt and the blood covering his hands, Roy was beginning to understand the flurry of activity that had been initiated by his arrival in the emergency room.

"Look, everyone can stop panicking, okay? I cut myself when the coyotes pounced at me. But I'm okay. I drove back here, didn't I?"

Johnny had just assumed that whatever had happened had occurred near the hospital. He couldn't believe that Roy had driven the 15 miles back from the canyon in this condition. And what was Roy saying about coyotes?

"Roy, when we left everything was fine. What happened?" In a well practiced manner, he counted out Roy's pulse while he listened for an answer.

Roy started to shake as he remembered those few moments of uncertainty. "There were coyotes. They came out of the brush after you left. You were right. It's the moon. I started to worry about the moon and suddenly everything went wrong. Nothing happened to me today until I started to think about that blasted moon."

In Brackett's opinion, Roy was not making any sense. However, he clearly heard the reference to coyotes. "Roy, did you get attacked by coyotes?"

Once Roy's shirt had been removed, it was quickly apparent that the blood on the shirt was all from his face. He had no apparent injuries anywhere else, Dixie gratefully noted as she checked him over inch by inch to be sure. When coyotes were mentioned, she checked once more.

"Roy," Brackett repeated, growing concerned about his neurological status, "were you attacked by the coyotes?"

Roy shook his head no, causing Johnny to grab his chin to keep him still as he tried to clean some of the blood off his face to get a better picture of his actual injuries.

"Roy," this time it was Johnny who tried to get an answer from his partner. "Did you get bitten by the coyotes? Did they jump you? Come on, partner, talk to me. What happened out there?" Johnny looked directly into Roy's eyes, making sure that Roy looked at him as well.

That seemed to snap Roy out of whatever fog he seemed to be in. He was still shaky, but clearer.

"The coyotes never touched me. They were there, ready to attack, but I got into the squad before they could get me. But I tripped, I guess, 'cause I was in such a hurry. I fell into the steering wheel. My face broke my fall. You wouldn't believe it. I got the door shut just as the alpha dog pounced. I missed being dog food by this much."

Despite Roy's claims that he was fine, Brackett ordered an IV. But after a complete check, the only injuries found were a one inch gash above his left eye and an injury to his lower lip.

"Well, I think you're going to be okay with a few stitches, but your shift is over for the night. I want to do some x-rays and maybe a CAT scan just to be safe, and I'm keeping you here until morning, but my guess is you'll be fine. How do you feel?"

"Like an idiot. I can't believe I didn't even notice how much I was bleeding."

"Okay, well, I'll agree with idiot, but because you drove back here by yourself instead of calling for help. But that diagnosis aside, how do you feel physically?"

Roy shrugged. "My face hurts. I can't believe my lip is still bleeding. I'm getting pretty sick of the taste of blood."

"I bet. Well, its going to be a little longer. I want a plastic surgeon to do the stitching. You bit all the way through your lip. A plastic surgeon can reduce the risk of a scar."

Johnny, who had not left Roy's side except to call the Captain and fill him in, could not believe what he just heard.

"Doc, did you say he bit all the way through his lip?"

Brackett nodded. "Just below the lip actually. That's why there was so much blood. It will take some special care because mouth injuries as so prone to infection, but it should heal okay."

Knowing that Roy was going to be okay, Johnny couldn't contain his reaction to Dr. Brackett's words. He started to laugh.

Roy, Dixie, and Dr. Brackett were all shocked at his reaction. For a moment, Brackett wondered if Johnny too had been injured. It was Roy who expressed his disbelief and insult at this reaction.

"I can't believe you! What in the world do you find funny about this? After all you've been through today and I never once even broke a grin at your situation, not even when Morton made you drop your pants. And now you're laughing because I need a plastic surgeon to stitch up my lip? What is with you?"

Johnny tried to somber up so as not to further offend his partner and friend. "I'm sorry. It's not that you being hurt is funny. Of course, it isn't. It's just that after all the times I got bitten today… and, well, here I am worried that you had gotten bitten by the coyotes… and then of course you weren't… and I figured it was more indication of my bad karma. I mean, you were faced with a pack of wild dogs and didn't get bitten and I managed to get bitten every time I turned around. And well… it's not that it's funny really, but think about it Roy. You got bitten by yourself! Even I couldn't pull that off."

Johnny was not sure that Roy was going to see the same humor in this that he did. But as he watched, Roy cracked a smile. The smile spread to his eyes and he began to laugh.

"You know, Johnny, I think I finally beat you at your own game. I don't believe it! I bit myself! I guess I showed you how to do it right, huh?"

"You bet. Now if we could just find a way to get Chet to bite Cap…"

 

Author's note: I started this as a Halloween story, but I didn't finish in time. But since full moons are surely not limited to Halloween… My apologies for any errors in the Spanish. I used a translation program, but its been years since college Spanish classes.
 

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