Sleepless in Carson
By Audrey W.
The crew of Station 51’s A-shift turned in for what they hoped would be an uneventful night after a day of numerous rescue calls. The last to get cleaned up, paramedics John Gage and Roy DeSoto climbed into their beds that were across from each other. Though Roy was ready to settle in, his often obsessive partner had too much on his mind, particularly the fate of a favorite eatery they liked to stop at when lunch or dinner at the station didn’t work out with their schedule.
“How could they possibly close down a place as popular as Bob’s Big Burgers?” John Gage groaned for at least the fifth time since hearing the news a few hours earlier. His voice low so as not to disturb the others, he continued, “I mean, where else can we. . .can anyone. . . get a hamburger that size for thirty cents?”
“I wouldn’t lose sleep over it. Maybe the new owner of the building will pick up where he leaves off,” Roy quietly assured.
“No way, Roy. No one’s gonna wanna sell burgers for that low of a price. No one.”
“Why not? If Bob did. . .”
“That’s ‘cause Bob cares about his customers. We aren’t just a sale walkin’ in those doors. We’re like family.”
“I think you’re forgetting something.”
“What?”
“Bob’s the one closing it down. Remember, he said he’s going to open a new restaurant in Phoenix. We can’t be too much like family if he wants to leave us high and dry.”
When no reply or argument came in return, Roy was sure he’d made a good point and that the issue would be dropped. Satisfied as the silence continued, he closed his eyes, a slight grin on his face. But his eyes flew open and the smile turned to a frown when he heard Johnny whisper, “How can a guy who’s known us the past three years . . .who’s like family to us. . .just up and leave us like that?”
Roy looked over at his partner. The younger man was now facing him, propped up on a left forearm with a disheartened expression that reminded Roy of his son just after the boy’s team had lost a little league game. The senior paramedic sighed.
So much for going to sleep. . .
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