Sorrow’s Lament

By Caressa

 

 

 

Chapter 1

 

Johnny’s hand slid across the smooth hardwood.  The grain was a remarkably beautiful swirl of Purple Heart and Bird’s-Eye maple.   No doubt Jake’s family cared about him and attended to every fine detail to honor his life.   But as the smoothness fell away to the air, a cool breeze whispered over his shoulders, sending a prickling chill across his skin.

 

A light touch broke his contemplation, and Johnny looked down into the watery eyes of an elderly woman.  Her face was well worn. Deep furrows described her age and hardship, speaking to a rough life. The recent days drained the color from her skin, and the brightness was absent from her eyes.

 

“You were a good friend to my boy, John.”

 

Johnny could only nod.   Pain and regret clung to his throat, silencing any chance of a kind word’s escape.  He moved closer, and leaning down, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.  The tremor hadn’t abated from the last time John held her.   His kindness was not lost, however, and he could feel her weight shift to him.   He pulled her gently to his side, tucking her into the warm safety of his arms.  He could feel her shiver.

 

“May, “ he whispered. “What can I do for you?  Would you like to sit over here?  Or maybe to go outside?”

 

The old woman looked up at him.  Desolation was the only emotion evident in her watery red eyes, which hovered above the dark shadows pressed beneath them.   Her lips were pulled in a deep frown, accentuating the wrinkles marring her weathered skin.   May stared at him for a long moment and Johnny thought she was about to speak, but instead, tears tipped from her eyes leaving long lines of sorrow streaking her cheeks.

 

Johnny drew her into a gentle embrace.  He could feel her trembling and held her tightly.  He worried she was near collapse.  Her grief pulled at his heart, and in a moment of vulnerability, unguarded tears flooded his eyes.  He didn’t dare blink, for fear they would escape, and his fragile control would break, setting free a deluge of carefully guarded pain.

 

May shifted, looking up into his eyes.  “John,” she whispered. “I can’t believe it.”

 

The memories of accident stirred his emotions.  Johnny could feel the aching pain in his leg and chest, intensified by the rush of grief.  A stray tear tipped from his eye.   Pain served as physical reminder of his failure to save not only fellow paramedic, but also a close friend.

 

Johnny swallowed the lump in his throat. He held her tighter.  His voice was a mere whisper when he finally spoke. 

 

“I can’t either, May.”

 

She looked into his eyes, studying him, and pulled him closer.   “I’m glad you weren’t badly hurt Johnny.”

 

Failure churned the bile burning his stomach.  “I wish it had turned out differently.”

 

May looked up at him sharply.  No one could mistake the stormy swirl of her anger.

 

“John Gage, “ she hissed.  “This was a terrible accident.  One that easily could have taken both your lives.   Don’t for a minute feel that I or anyone else thinks that there is anything you could have done to change the outcome of that rescue.   It was bad luck and poor circumstances.  That’s all.  There’s no place for blame or guilt.  Sometimes,” the old woman paused, her voice softening while she poked a crooked finger at his chest. “Things just don’t work out for the better.”

 

Her shaky arms wrapped around him, and fragile hands held him tightly against her.

 

“Jake loved you like a brother.  He won’t be happy if you keep kicking yourself around.”  She reached up and placed a shaky kiss on his forehead.  She studied him for a long moment.

 

“You look terrible.”

 

“Thanks, May.”

 

“I think you should have stayed in the hospital like they told you to.”

 

Johnny shook his head.  “I’m okay.”

 

“Oh yeah?  Seven.”

 

Johnny ‘s brow furrowed in confusion  “Seven? I don’t understand, May.”

 

“This is the seventh time since we got here that you sucked in a breath and looked like you were going to faint.”

 

“Firemen don’t faint, May. You know that.”

 

A flicker of amusement curved her lips.  “Sorry, I forgot.  What should I call it then, when you ‘flop on the floor’?”

 

Johnny couldn’t help but laugh softly. 

 

“I know, I know,” she continued.  “Firemen  ‘pass out’.  Sounds much more sturdy and manly.”

 

“Exactly.”

 

May’s amusement flittered away with the heavy weight of sorrow.  Tears again teetered at the edge of her worn eyes, and a few fell free tracing a ragged path down her cheeks.

 

“In my mind, I can still hear you and Jake out on my back porch.  Jabbing back and forth about everything from fishing to ballgames to exaggerated rescues.”

 

“Exaggerated?”  He teased lightly.

 

“Yes. I’m old.  I know embellishment when I hear it.  And because I’m old, I get to call ‘em as I see ‘em.”

 

Johnny chuckled softly, but the levity was fleeting.  As the Pastor approached May, Johnny instinctively placed a protective arm around her shoulders.   He could feel her stiffen, and her expression crumbled when the Pastor placed a kind hand over hers. 

 

“May, “ he whispered, “I was sorry to hear about Jake.  He was a heroic, brave man.  It is truly a tragedy.”

 

May bowed her head and struggled to maintain her composure.   

 

Johnny’s eyes closed tightly.  Sorrow warred with the physical pain wrought by his freshly fractured ribs.   He blinked away a swirl of dizziness, and pulled May closer.

 

May looked up to Johnny, placing her hand over his.   “You’re not well, John.  You should have stayed at the hospital.”

 

“I’m okay, May.”

 

“John, do we have to have this conversation again?”

 

The Pastor placed a hand on his shoulder.  “May is a wise woman, John.  I’ve just met you, but I can tell you’re not well and in significant pain.   May doesn’t need more to worry about. “

 

He couldn’t let her go.  Perhaps because he feared May would crumble without his support, and perhaps because she was his lifeline to Jake.   Tears again rushed to his eyes, this time spilling easily onto his cheeks. He stifled a cough, sending searing pain through his chest.  Lightheaded, what strength remained in his legs was lost.

 

The Pastor reached out and wrapped a steadying arm around him.    

 

“John, come and rest.”

 

Blind with pain, Johnny acquiesced, allowing the Pastor to settle him in a nearby chair.  His breath came short and fast, and his head spun.  Arms drawn tightly around his chest, Johnny braced himself against the discomfort.  Sweat broke out on his forehead, and all remnants of color drained from his face.

 

He felt a familiar hand firmly grasp his shoulder.  Johnny didn’t have to look up to know Dixie was next to him. 

 

She leaned over, her steadying touch reassuring him.   “Johnny,” she whispered. “I think it’s time to go back.  We’ll sit for a few minutes so you can recover a bit, and then I’ll let you say goodbye to May.”

 

Johnny shook his head, and spoke in a choked whisper.  “No, I’ll be okay in a minute.”

 

May’s finely wrinkled face appeared before him.  “Now Johnny, I know why you don’t want to leave, but I’m as okay as I’ll ever be.  I’m terribly worried about you.  My daughter is here, as well as other family.  Please go and rest.  I don’t need more worries.  I love you, son.   I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

Tears again flooded Johnny’s eyes.   Another failure, he thought.   Not only had he lost Jake, but he couldn’t even stay upright for a few hours to comfort Jake’s elderly mother. 

 

John nodded, and felt Dixie and Roy lift him to his feet.  They waited patiently while he teetered before becoming stable.   May smiled at him, and reached up with trembling hands to cup his face.

 

 “You’ll always be my other son John.  Don’t forget.”

 

 

Chapter 2 

 

 

“The answer is ‘No’.”

 

“That’s the wrong answer.”

 

“You’re in no shape to be there the entire time, much less carry anything, Johnny.”

 

“I can, and I will.”

 

Brackett’s lips drew into a thin line, clearly stating his disapproval.

 

“I’ll AMA and you know it.”

 

The Doctor paused for a long moment, then nodded thoughtfully.  While he knew it wasn’t best for John to attend the funeral health-wise, he also understood the enormity of John’s loss.

 

“You’re right.  You need to be there. “

 

Johnny was startled by the Physician’s turnaround.  His emotions shifted, and he could envision the endless line of uniformed men, along with weight of bearing Jake’s casket.   He looked down at his hands, and clasped them tightly to stem the tremor overtaking them.  It wasn’t the first time his hands bore the body of a friend.  John rubbed them thoughtfully.  He could feel the weight of Drew’s casket pressing into his palms.     He was grateful Brackett gave him the opportunity to collect himself, before he continued with what Johnny knew would be a detailed list of rules tied to his release.

 

Brackett was shocked when John acquiesced without protest.   He leaned forward, carefully studying the Medic.  While it was easy to read the physical pain, manifested by shaky hands and pale sweaty skin, interrupted by smudges of black fatigue circling his eyes, John’s expression was steely and closed down in comparison.

 

“What do you think you can handle?”

 

Johnny immediately looked down at his boots. Realistically he couldn’t do much, but he knew he had to.   Jake was a close friend, and May was a second mother.  He didn’t care what it took, he would be there to honor Jake, and support May as best he could.

 

“I can’t lift the weight for a long time, but I think I can handle it if I carry on the opposite side of my busted ribs.  The guys will help.  We’ll be going slow anyway.”

 

“It’s a lot of time on your feet.  Not to mention the concerns about your breathing.  The lung contusion will limit you, likely more than you think.  You’ll have to rest frequently and sit when others are standing.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Will you?”

 

“If it means being able to stay, yes, I will.”

 

Brackett studied Johnny for a long moment.  “It’s a long walk.”

 

“Legs are okay.”

 

Brackett frowned, staring at the Medic. “Your lungs aren’t.  Will you let the others do the work?”

 

“No choice.  I can’t do it for long, and I know it.”

 

Brackett was reassured by his honesty.

 

“Okay, John.  Dixie will be there too.  Roy told me he’d be right with you.  Promise me you’ll step out if it’s too much.”

 

“I will.  I don’t want to frighten May.”

 

Brackett nodded thoughtfully.  “Okay, John.  Rest up tonight.  I’ll give you something to help you sleep tonight, and provide some pain relievers for tomorrow.  I’ll release you in the morning, and Roy will be picking you up.  He said he’d bring your uniform. “

 

Brackett took one last look at Gage.  Looks terrible, he thought. He felt fleeting regret for his decision, which dissolved once he recognized John’s expression.   Unconcealed sorrow.   For a man who was quite practiced at hiding emotion, Johnny’s heart was clearly on his sleeve.

 

“I’ll see you in the morning.”

 

“Doc?”

 

Brackett turned back to Johnny.  “Yeah John?”

 

“Thanks.”

 

Brackett nodded in understanding.  “I’m sorry, Johnny.”

 

Johnny turned away, but raised a hand in acknowledgement of Brackett’s kindness.  As his shoulders trembled, Brackett had the grace to go, leaving Johnny to his sorrows.  Brackett certainly knew after all these years of lives saved and inevitable deaths, that sometimes, you just have to let people grieve.

 

 

Chapter 3

 

 

Roy hesitated in the hallway outside of John’s hospital room.  While he knew what the schedule was today, he didn’t know how Johnny was going to handle it. When he entered, he found John sitting on his bed, attended to by Dixie, who was fastening the last clasp of his dress uniform.  The dark blue fabric was in stark contrast to his unusually sallow skin. Johnny’s jaw was set, and while he appeared stoic to an outside observer, it was clear to Roy that he was uncomfortable.   Johnny stood slowly, and Roy noted the tension in his jaw and tight squint of his eyes.  He worried that John’s participation wouldn’t be wise, but also knew how tenacious he was, and understood that Johnny would complete the task and honor his friend even if it stole his last breath.  Roy shivered at the fleeting thought.

 

“You look good Johnny.  Promise me you’ll let Roy know if it’s too much for you. “

 

Johnny held Dixie’s gaze for a long moment.  When he finally answered, his voice was a mere whisper.  

 

“Promise.”

 

Dixie reached up, and straightened his collar, fussing over nonexistent wrinkles.  The contact was a proxy for throwing her arms around him in comfort.  She could easily see his pain, and how difficult this loss was for him.  But knowing John as she did, Dixie recognized that right now, he needed her strength, so she offered him a small smile instead.

 

“You look sharp, Johnny.  Neat as a pin.”

 

Johnny studied her for a moment, and then nodded. 

 

He didn’t immediately turn away, and instead held her eyes.  She couldn’t read his thoughts, and was surprised when he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her. Resting his cheek on her golden hair, he pulled her to his chest for a brief moment, before releasing her and stepping away. 

 

She studied him closely, knowing his sorrow was near overwhelming.   She recognized he was battling against it, and her memories of lost men during her military career allowed her to understand the depth of his loss. 

 

She leaned forward. “I won’t be far if you need me.”

 

He nodded, averting his gaze to his feet. When he finally spoke, his voice was a mere whisper.

 

“Thanks Dix.”

 

She stepped forward, and hugged him gently, surprised when he held her closely in return, resting against her. 

 

After a moment he straightened, and stared into her eyes.  His voice was heavy, and she had to listen carefully to hear his whisper.

 

“ ‘Couldn’t have made it without you.”

 

The raw sentiment pushed tears to her eyes, and caught her breath in her throat.  Dixie reached up, brushing her hand over his cheek. 

 

“You’re one of the strongest men I know, John, and I admire your tenacity and commitment to honor Jake.  You’re a good friend.  Jake knows that, and is grateful for your dedication to his mother and family. “

 

The kind words overwhelmed him, and he averted his eyes, looking upward to stem the welling tears. Johnny was silent for a long moment, and when he finally spoke, Dixie could barely hear his ragged voice.

 

“I wish I hadn’t failed him.   It should have been…”

 

Dixie’s sharp tone cut off the thought in mid-sentence. 

 

“Don’t’ ever think that your life is worth less than another firefighter’s.  Your life is precious to me and so many others, John.”  She paused, and her voice softened.  “I know if you could have taken Jake’s place, you would, because you’re unselfish and admirably brave, but that doesn’t mean it’s right.   It doesn’t mean your life is worth less because you don’t have a wife. I know you’ve stepped in harm’s way for Roy in the past, John.  But you and Roy both know the risks.  And we both know you take more risks than the next guy in the name of saving another firefighter.  It frightens me.“

 

Johnny averted his eyes, blinking away the tears pooling once more, threatening escape.  His jaw was taut and when he finally spoke, his whisper overflowed with anguish.

 

“He’s a brother.”

 

Dixie watched Johnny run the back of his hand over his eyes, clearing a stray tear from his cheek.   He took a deep slow breath, hesitated for a moment, then ran his hands over the dark blue cloth of his uniform smoothing errant wrinkles.  

 

“Time to go,” he whispered.

 

“I’ll be nearby if you need me.”

 

“I’ll be okay.”

 

“Promise?”

 

He stared at her for a long moment, his mind drifting to memories of firefighters gathering around a flag draped casket. 

 

“No firefighter can honestly make that promise.”

 

Dixie hesitated for a long moment before answering.  Her voice was a soft whisper.

 

“I know.”

 

 

Chapter 4

 

 

It was a long, slow procession of vehicles winding down the roads of LA County, lights brightly glaring, while the vehicles gently rolled forward.  Johnny sat in the Squad next to Roy, silent and stoic, occasionally wincing with an unexpected jolt from dips in the pitted road.

 

Roy fretted at John’s obvious discomfort.  He stared at the casket drawn forward in front of them, and shivered.  Roy knew how close he came to standing on the Engine, accompanying Johnny on his final ride.   He glanced at his partner, noting that John’s eyes were set, never wavering from the flag-draped casket of his friend.

 

Neither spoke until the procession stopped and Roy put the Squad in park.  He waited for the Engine to shut down it lights, and then he did the same.  The Squad was silent, and Johnny continued to stare ahead, awaiting the signal to exit the squad and fall into formation.   When Jake’s crew began to line up behind the engine, Johnny reached for the door.

 

“Johnny,” Roy whispered, placing a hand briefly on his shoulder.   “Let me know if you need anything. If you have to step out, I won’t be far behind.”

 

Johnny nodded, and whispered a soft, “Thanks.”  He opened the door and alighted slowly, hesitating to steady himself before smoothing his uniform.  He glanced back at Roy for a long moment, then nodded and fell into line with the other firefighters waiting to draw the casket from the engine. 

 

Roy watched Johnny stiffly walk toward the other firefighters.  He was greeted by Captain Paul, who placed a hand on the young medic’s shoulder, pulled him close, and spoke to him quietly.  John’s head hung low, but suddenly jerked upward, staring for a long moment at the Captain, before again falling to his chest after a brief nod.   The Captain clasped the man’s shoulder, and leaned in once more, offering John a few more words of counsel.   Johnny kept his eyes averted, and Roy could tell that whatever the Captain had said profoundly affected his partner.  He longed to stand with him in support, but Roy understood that he wasn’t part of this accidental family that Johnny would forever be bound to by the unexpected tragedy.  Roy was relieved the Captain had drawn Johnny into his fold, albeit temporarily, understanding the great loss that Johnny suffered along side his friend and the crew.

 

Moments later, Roy understood Johnny’s surprise, when John stepped toward the family’s limousine.  He stopped at the back door turned smartly on his heels, slowly leaned forward, and opened the door.  John’s back was rod straight upon standing, his eyes focusing on the distance horizon.   When May alighted, he reached for her right hand, and guiding her from the vehicle. 

 

Roy watched May pause and reach up to cup John’s face in her fragile hands.  He leaned down until May’s forehead brushed his.  While Roy couldn’t hear May’s words, it wasn’t difficult for Roy to see that the brief conversation touched Johnny deeply.    Roy watched him slowly lead May past the Engine, pausing for a moment, both looking up at the draped casket firmly seated in the hose bed.

 

 Johnny encouraged the elderly woman forward, guiding her to the edge of the walkway by the stairs.   They stood silently as the rest of Jake’s family lined the walkway.  May’s daughter, Genna, took up opposite side of her mother.  She caught Johnny’s eye with a grateful nod, and turned her gaze back toward the Engine.

 

Roy was relieved by Johnny’s inclusion in the family’s circle of sorrow.  He was glad they had given Johnny charge of May, as Roy intuitively knew the two had a close connection, and May honored him as her own son.  Roy implicitly understood that Johnny, despite his gregarious personality, was a serious, loyal man.  He had proven that many times on the job, never wavering or hesitating when tough, risky tasks were at hand.  Roy couldn’t say that about all firefighters, and he always felt an unspoken gratitude for Johnny’s attention and skill.   It had saved his life many times.   A heavy burst of sorrow flooded Roy’s chest when May leaned into Johnny, her tears freely falling.  Roy could tell Johnny was struggling as well, but remained outwardly stoic, bestowing his strength to May.

 

The firefighters gently drew the flag draped casket from the engine, and slowly proceeded up the walkway.   They paused in front of May, and Johnny held her close, guiding her forward.  The elderly woman’s pale thin hand trembled as she reached out to brush the pristine flag draping her son’s casket.  Johnny’s arm closed around her when May laid her head against the bright cloth, trembling in coarse waves.   Johnny allowed her a few moments, and then whispered softly to her.  She finally turned back to him; their eyes close, sharing the overwhelming sorrow of the moment.  But May could feel his strength, and stood on wobbly legs, wrapping her arms around him.   He held her tightly, and then drew back, his eyes again meeting hers.  May blinked away her tears, and nodded to John, the sorrowful words passing between them in a silent whisper.

 

The service was both foreign and familiar.  It wasn’t the first formal funeral he had attended for a fellow firefighter, and Johnny didn’t bother wishing for it to be the last. He knew better, and the cutting pain slicing his chest reminded him of his daily vulnerability.   Johnny glanced behind him, and saw Roy watching him from a few rows back.  He inherently understood Roy’s nod of silent reply.  But instead of drawing strength from his friend, Johnny felt overwhelming dread clog his throat and dampen his eyes.   What if…what if it had been Roy?  The thought overcame him and tragedy’s tears spilled from his eyes, tracing ragged paths down his cheeks.  He pulled May closer, resting his head against hers.  He could feel her tremble, and he tightened his hold, whispering soft phases that even he knew weren’t true, while his mind silently spoke the truth.

 

 

When the Mass concluded, Johnny remained kneeling beside May as she finished her prayers.  Captain Paul approached once May stood. 

 

“May” he started, but paused when her tearful red eyes looked up into his.  “I’m so sorry, May.  Jake was a brave man, the bravest.  He’s saved countless lives, and was a friend to so many.” 

 

He paused, glancing at Johnny before continuing.  “We will continue to the cemetery, and John will remain with you, until we reach the graveside.   John will assist us in moving the casket.   He’ll then return to your limousine and escort you and your family to the grave.”

 

May nodded slowly, her voice temporarily silenced by tears.  She looked up at John, her shaky hand reaching out to pat his cheek.   “Take good care of my boy, John.”

 

Johnny nodded, gathering May in his arms, unable to offer the perfunctory “I will.”  He knew the unimaginable had happened to her.  She lost her son.  Johnny lost his close friend.  And while John understood the incident was out of his control, he couldn’t help but ruminate over the details again and again, wondering if there was something he missed, something he could have done differently to prevent Jake’s fate.   It was a constant theme of nightly haunting, leaving him drenched in sweat, his breath coming in short gasps.   Sleep had been elusive, and the sorrows of the accident were clearly written in the troubled shadows marring his normally bright eyes.   

 

Captain Paul laid a hand on John’s shoulder, signaling it was time to go.  Johnny held May in a gentle embrace, finally releasing her to her daughter, who took her arm and led her out of the pew.  May leaned over and kissed the rich blue starred fabric and straightened.  “My brave boy,” she whispered to herself, lost in sorrow-filled thoughts. John encouraged her forward, and May’s daughter linked arms with her, tears freely falling in heavy lines down their cheeks.

 

Johnny took up his position alongside the casket with the other crewmembers.  Captain Paul inspected each man as he passed.  He paused for a moment, leaning in when he reached John.  “Just hold on to the handle, John, the boys will bear the weight.  Remember that your being here is most important.  You’ve already carried the heaviest load for Jake.  I’ll never forget what you’ve done for Jake and for his family.”

 

Johnny closed his eyes, sorrow welling once again, testing his resolve to contain his emotions. Pain seared his chest.   He froze, catching his breath.  Johnny steadied himself, and nodded to the Captain, his stoic mask slipping back in place.

 

 

Chapter 5

 

 

“He looks terrible.”

 

“Yeah, ” Roy replied, glancing up at his Captain.

 

“Do you think it was a mistake letting him come?”

 

“No.”

 

Hank studied John’s deliberate steps and carefully planned movements.  He could tell Johnny was uncomfortable, but seemed to be managing well enough.   The only clear evidence of his injury was the slow stiffness in his stride and the freezing of his body when he instinctively pulled up on the casket while the men were moving it to the frame above the grave.    The firefighter behind him placed a steadying hand on John’s shoulder and leaned forward, supporting him for a moment before Johnny waved him off.   Gage was standing rather crooked, but steady enough on his feet.  Hank let out a long breath.  I can’t wait for this this day to be over.

 

 

Roy caught the Captain’s eye; a deep frown marred his usual smooth expression. Roy shook his head and averted his gaze.  He felt terrible for Johnny, but at the same time, Roy couldn’t help but feel relief that Johnny would still be by his side.   When he got the call at 3 am five days ago, he thought Johnny was dead.   Roy’s heart lay still in his chest, waiting for Captain Paul to speak.   Roy could still hear the Captain’s voice, as it had haunted him night after night since the accident.     

 

                  “Roy. It’s Captain Paul at 36’s.  I’m sorry to call you so late.  We lost a man tonight.”

 

                  Roy had bolted up in bed, his voice stuck in his chest. Oh my God, he thought, Johnny’s dead.

 

                  “Roy, you there?”

 

                  “Yeah,” he replied, his voice a hushed whisper.

 

                  “Jake and Johnny were in a 3-alarmer at that old mill on 110’th block.  You know the one, the                   yarn place?”

 

                  Roy nodded, unable to speak.  The Captain continued.

 

                  “There was a collapse.  Jake died before we could get him out.”

 

                  “Johnny?”

 

                  “At Rampart.  He’s critical, but the doc thinks he has a chance.”

 

                  “Burns?”

 

                  “Minor.  Trauma to the chest from the fall.  Something with his lungs.”

 

    “I’ll be right there. “  Roy paused, attempting to steady his voice.  “Cap, I’m ... I’m sorry about      Jake.  He’s a good man.  A good  friend of Johnny’s too.”

 

                  “Let’s just hope Gage makes it through.”

 

                  “I’m on my way.”

 

                  “Sorry, DeSoto.”

 

       Roy didn’t bother to reply, throwing the phone back on the cradle and jumping from the bed,  gathering his jeans from the floor where he tossed them before   retiring.  His wife bolted upright.

 

                  “Roy?  What’s wrong?  What happened?  Is it Johnny?”

 

                  Roy nodded, tugging a shirt over his head.  “He’s at Rampart.  A fire.   We lost a guy tonight.”

 

                  “Is Johnny okay?”  She stood gathering Roy’s jacket as he swooped around the room looking  for his shoes.        

 

                  “No. But I don’t know how bad he is.  The Cap’s worried.  Wants me there right now.”

 

                  “Oh my God, Roy, want me to come with you?  I can call…”

 

                  “No, stay with the kids.  I don’t want to frighten them.  I’ll call you when I know  anything.”

 

                  She grabbed Roy by the shoulders at the front door, causing him to pause and pull her close. 

 

                  “I love you,” he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

 

                  Joanne held him tightly for a moment before releasing him.  She looked up into his eyes. 

 

                  “Tell Johnny we love him.”

 

                  Roy’s offered her a brief smile.   “I’ll leave that for you ... unless…”

 

                  Joanne nodded, understanding the tacit implication.

 

                  “Call me.”

 

                  “I will.”  Roy ran to the car and pulled out of the driveway.

 

 

Roy shook his head, startled from the memory by the soft sound of a hymn sung by the sweet voice of a teenaged girl.  Roy swore he heard the voice of angels.  He shut his eyes, pressing back the gathering moisture that threatened to spill onto his cheeks.  He was surprised to see Johnny standing with Jake’s mother, her shaking arms wrapped around his waist.  Johnny held her in return, but Roy couldn’t help but notice his stark white complexion coupled with an awkward posture.  Johnny braced his body upright with one hand clutching the pew.  He looked terrible: pale, sallow, drained of the last of his energy.  Roy hoped for May’s sake, Johnny would last to the end of the service.  He knew John well enough to know he’d hang on till his last breath to take proper care of Jake’s mother.   Roy glanced to the back of the Church, and finally spotted his wife.  He felt soothed by her presence, but could tell she had been deep in thought, before she shook off her ruminations and caught his eye, nodding slightly.  

 

Joanne tried to refocus on the service, but couldn’t help but think back to the night of the fire:

 

 They can’t think about the one left behind, she thought. And as Roy pulled out of the driveway   and accelerated down the street, Joanne slumped against the doorway, her legs weakened by  the tightness filling her chest, and long held fears were set free in a flood of tears.   She knew  the call could have easily been about Roy.  She would always fear a ringing phone in the night.  Johnny was like a brother, and she couldn’t imagine what life would be like for Roy if   he lost his best friend.

 

 When the taillights disappeared around a distant corner, she retreated to the house.  Joanne  walked upstairs and looked in on each of her children, who remained still and sweet between softly rumpled sheets, blessedly unaware of the night’s dark shadows.  She  returned to the kitchen, and put on some hot water for tea.  There would no more sleep for her tonight.

 

 

As Roy drove away, he felt remorse for the tears slowly tracing transparent lines down his wife’s cheeks.  How many times had he not been there for her?  How many times had she fretted over his safety?  How many times did she answer a call when he was injured?  He wouldn’t have blamed her if she divorced him.  Not that she didn’t love him, but rather the stress and worry that went along with being a firefighter’s wife was a lot to ask of a spouse.  He was glad she hung on all these years.   He knew he couldn’t live without her.

 

 

Chapter 6

 

 

It wasn’t the first time Hank Stanley stood in a long line of men, his chest decorated with symbols of brave and selfless service, his shoulder emblazoned with stripes of hard won leadership.    He hadn’t been in Captain Paul’s shoes however, and while Gage had frequently tested the fine edge of disaster, he had somehow escaped mortal injury.  He was sure Johnny’s guardian angel was haggard, given all the trials he’d faced as a firefighter.   

 

When he got the call from Captain Paul at 2:30 early last Sunday morning, his breath stalled in his throat.  Hank had asked Johnny to cover at 36’s.    He feared Gage’s luck had run out.

 

 

Hank looked down at his uniform, compulsively smoothing the stray wrinkles from his jacket. He glanced behind him into the crowd, catching his spouse’s eye.   She nodded slowly, her skin pale in sorrow.  It was a rare moment he regretted his chosen profession, but in this fleeting glimpse of her overwhelming sadness, he could feel her suffering with him.   She must have read his thoughts, as he watched her sweep away her tears and catch his eye.   She nodded once, a gentle sad smile whispering across her lips.

 

 

Chapter 7

 

 

Brackett wasn’t an overly emotional man.  He never panicked.  He was in complete control when John Gage arrived at his ER in imminent peril.  He knew that the firefighter with Gage had died at the scene, and he hoped this fact wasn’t an omen predicting Gage’s outcome.   But when Johnny was rolled in, surrounded by two medics and a moving mass of firefighters, one riding the rails, furiously pumping on his sooty chest, another frantically bagging air into the dying man, Brackett’s hopefulness was extinguished.  Less than 18 percent, he thought.  Five to eighteen percent survival for an out-of-hospital EMS witnessed cardiac arrest.  Factoring in chest trauma and smoke, Brackett knew Gage’s chances were slim to none.

 

Barking orders for medication, lines, crystalloids, and a tube in every orifice, Brackett pulled out all the guns in his arsenal.    He called for the surgical tray, and prepared to crack the young man’s chest if Gage’s heart remained stalled.  But today, after forcing in warm fluids, oxygen, and myriad medications, Gage’s heart started to beat within two minutes of his arrival.   Brackett took a step back, studying the tracing.   His brows were drawn tightly together, and his lips pulled downward into a heated scowl. 

 

“How the hell did this happen!”  He yelled to no one in particular, startling the firefighters around him, who scattered backwards at his unexpected outburst. 

 

“Dammit!”  Brackett yelled again, and looked up at the men surrounding him.    Seeing the paramedic’s faces for the first time, he easily recognized the desolation and loss they were already suffering, and inherently knew there was no answer to his question.   The silence continued, the men frozen in place.  Brackett again scanned the room, his frustration dissipating at the sorrow freely expressed by these normally unreadable men.

 

The Doctor lowered his gaze, studying his hands for a long moment.  He cleared his throat and looked up at the firefighters. When he finally spoke, his voice was hushed.

 

“I don’t have the answers you want right now.  I’m not sure he’ll survive.  Not sure how he’ll be if he does.  But we have him back for now, and hopefully he’ll stabilize.  You got him here quickly.  You did everything right.   Don’t ever forget that.  Sometimes, these things are out of hands.”

 

Brackett paused for a long moment, his gaze again sweeping over the firefighters.  “I’ll let you know when I have a better idea of how he’s responding.   It will be a while. I promise I’ll talk with your Captain when I know more.”

 

The paramedics and firefighters remained silent.  They stared at the doctor for a long moment, before one of the men stepped back, met the eyes of the others, and hitched his head toward the treatment room door.  They silently funneled from the room with brief glance back at the brother they were leaving behind.

 

 

Chapter 8

 

 

Roy stood a few feet away.  He could barely recognize his partner.  Beyond pale, Gage’s skin was a contrast of colors.  His sallow grey complexion was painted with myriad splashes of purple black bruising.  Roy pulled a chair to the edge of the bed.  He was beyond tired and emotionally drained.   He knew Johnny was rapidly improving, and Brackett was pleased with his response to treatment.  Roy was having a tough time getting past the thought of Johnny dying in the fire.  He felt like he had abandoned him, as if it was his responsibility to take care of his partner.  That maybe it would have turned out differently if he were there. Roy knew it was ridiculous, but the 2 am call from Captain Paul days ago had rattled him to the core, and looking at Gage now only made is worries deepen. 

 

Jake was dead. Roy couldn’t believe Johnny survived.  The chest injury was significant, and beyond fractured ribs, the lung contusion was bad enough to warrant ongoing supplemental oxygen.  Brackett promised he was improving quickly, and Roy acknowledged that Gage was finally stirring, his consciousness bordering on the feathered edge of wakefulness.   Roy selfishly hoped he wasn’t around when Johnny was aware enough to ask about Jake. 

 

His wish was granted a few hours later, when Roy left to meet his kids when they got home from school.  He needed a break, especially after talking to Cap about the arrangements for Jake.   Jake’s mother had been to see Johnny twice.   As frail and heartbroken as she was with the loss of her own son, Johnny held a special place in her heart, and she told Roy in her crinkled, broken voice that she considered John to be her other son. 

 

 “It’s too much to bear,” she cried.  “My precious boy is dead.  Johnny is a part of him, and I can’t bear for him to die too. I can’t lose both my boys.”

 

“I’m so sorry, May.”  Roy really didn’t know what to say.

 

“He asked me.”

 

“Johnny was awake?” Roy was surprised. 

 

“Yes.  He already knew in his heart that Jake was gone.”

 

“How was he?”

 

“I’d rather not share that.”

 

Roy’s head dropped to his chest.  Not good, he thought. But what did I expect?  While somewhat relieved at being let off the hook to break the bad news to Johnny, Roy was ashamed that the difficult disclosure was left to a frail elderly woman already overwhelmed by the loss of her only son.  Roy felt his weakness had failed them all.  He looked up when she began to speak.

 

“Johnny and my Jake were good friends.  Johnny’s always been there for me too.   Helping Jakey take care of my home, and keeping Jake out of trouble.  Jakey had a penchant for bravado sometimes.  He had a few run in’s and Johnny tempered that trait.  Kept him on the straight and narrow.   I have no doubt Johnny did his best to try and save Jake’s life.  He never left him, even when the fire was biting his heels.  The Captain told me all he did, despite his own injuries.  I love that boy like my own family.”

 

“Johnny feels the same way, May.”

 

May nodded, closing her eyes tightly.  Tears slipped down her cheeks, and she swiped them impatiently from her face. 

 

“The Fire Chief himself came to see me.  Nice, kind man, with a rough job.  Told me all about the wonderful things Jake’s done.  Brought me some old articles from the paper talking about Jake being a hero.  Things Jake did that I knew nothing about.   My boy was a good, strong, kind man.  He saved a lot of lives.  And he was humble.  A brave boy, who didn’t deserve to die this way. “  May’s voice broke and tears fell freely from her eyes, tracing long lines of sorrow down her cheeks. 

 

Roy sat down next to her, wrapping his arms around her.  After a few minutes, Roy heard her hushed voice.

 

“My only solace is that he was with a good friend in the end, and regardless of their situation, I know Johnny comforted him, and did everything possible to help him.  Johnny told me he talked to Jake, and told him to think about me, our family, and how much we love him.  I feel better thinking those thoughts comforted Jake, and I’m grateful to Johnny for reminding him of our love and for staying with Jake to the very end, despite how scary and how risky it was.   He never left Jake.  He didn’t leave him behind.  That’s real courage.  That is a true friend. “

 

Roy nodded, unable to speak.  He looked down at Johnny, scanning his friend’s battered body.  His throat was tight, and the reminder of what Johnny had gone through shook him.  Roy knew the Chief gave May an abbreviated version, avoiding the dire conditions leading to Jake’s fate.   He wasn’t surprised that Johnny didn’t leave Jake and go for help.  Some men would have tried to save their own lives and fled, but Roy knew Johnny well. Strong. Brave. Noble. He’d never leave a brother behind. 

 

 

Chapter 9

 

 

He was relieved when the funeral was finally over.  Roy knew Johnny was running on empty, and it wasn’t difficult to see the discomfort clearly etched in John’s squinting eyes, shuddering breaths, and his attempt to thwart pain by remaining perfectly still.  Roy reluctantly drove Johnny home.  He had serious reservations about leaving him alone and was angry that Brackett hadn’t been more insistent he return to Rampart. It had only been six days since he was injured.  Six days since he suffered a cardiac arrest. Roy couldn’t help but imagine the haunting image of Deke racing down Rampart’s hallway, furiously pumping on Johnny’s chest.  Roy shook away the disturbing thought.  He looked over at John and frowned.  Johnny was haggard.  Worn down to the point Roy thought he might tumble over at any moment.  Roy had no idea how Johnny managed to escape returning to Rampart after the funeral. His concern was reinforced when Johnny began to cough. 

 

 John stopped short in front of him on the walkway, clutched his left chest, and bent over at the waist blindly reaching out for stability.  His breaths came in short shallow gasps and Roy was instantly alarmed.  He grabbed Johnny around the waist, steadying the younger man as he swayed.   

 

“Johnny! John, are you alright?”

 

Gasping, Johnny rested against his friend, slowly regaining his breath. 

 

 “Johnny, what happened?”  Roy leaned in close, unable to hear Johnny’s words over his ragged breathing. 

 

“Took too deep a breath . . . Pain . . . I’ll . .  . “ he panted, leaning into Roy.  “. . . be okay . . . in a minute.”

 

Roy supported Johnny until he regained control, but he could feel the creeping tendrils of alarm rising with each ragged breath John drew.  Johnny suddenly sagged against him, sending a chill over Roy’s skin, that couldn’t be ignored.   

 

“Johnny, we need to go back to Rampart.”

 

John’s face remained averted.  He said nothing for a full minute, and Roy had the grace to give him time to recover.

 

“Yeah . . . you’re right.”

 

If anything could have frightened Roy more, it was John’s uncharacteristic acquiescence.   He didn’t let on, however, and quietly helped his partner back to the car. 

 

“Pain’s bad.”  Roy stated, settling in the drivers seat.

 

Johnny said nothing, but nodded once.

 

“Breathing?” 

 

“Not…so good.” 

 

Johnny was breathless, and while Roy couldn’t tell if was due to pain or not, he was more worried that his activity might have precipitated a pneumothorax. 

 

“Won’t take long.”

 

“Good.”

 

When Roy pulled up to the Emergency Entrance ten minutes later, he glanced at Johnny.   “Hey, we’re here.  I’ll get chair and be right back.”  He paused when he heard John’s reply.

 

“I hate this, Roy.”

 

Roy placed a hand on his shoulder.  “I know Johnny, ” he whispered.

 

Johnny’s expression shifted, and Roy could tell he was fighting his emotions.  Johnny’s eyes filled, and Roy knew that the sorrow of the past few days along with the painful injury had become overwhelming.  

 

Roy grasp tightened on John’s shoulder.  He leaned forward to catch his eye.   “Johnny, I know its been beyond rough, but things really will get better.  I can promise you that, even though right now it’s pretty bad.”

 

Johnny, despite looking lost in thought, nodded slowly.

 

Roy watched him for a moment, and then opened his door.  “I’m going to get you a chair.”

 

“No,” Johnny replied.  “I’m gonna walk.”

 

 Roy got out of the car, moved around to the passenger side, and opened the door.   “Johnny, you’re hurt, just let me…”

 

“No.”  

 

Johnny didn’t look up at Roy a second time, and rather, slowly leaned against the door.  He turned gently in his seat, rested for a moment, then placed his right foot on the pavement and stood.  The twisting motion burned a startling pain into his chest, and Johnny froze once again. Deep lines marred his normally smooth features, revealing his distress.  Involuntary tears brimmed his eyes. Roy steadied him for a moment, allowing him to recover.

 

“You okay?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“You sure you don’t want a chair?”

 

“Yup.”

 

“Can I help then?”

 

Johnny paused for a long moment, then nodded slowly.  “Guess so.”

 

Roy nodded in relief.  Johnny walked slowly into the ER with Roy by his side, assisting his slow deliberate steps.    When Roy turned the corner, he was relieved to see Dr. Early standing at the Nurse’s Station speaking with Carol.  Dr. Early looked up at Roy’s call and was immediately at John’s side, guiding them to the nearby treatment room.

 

“What happened Roy?”

 

“Breathing got worse in the last 20 minutes.”

 

“What precipitated it?”

 

Roy was silent.  When Early looked up at him searching for an answer, Roy offered the only reply he could.  “I don’t really know.  It’s been a rough day.”

 

Dr. Early nodded thoughtfully, then proceeded through the treatment room door, held open by Carol. 

 

Once inside, Roy assisted the nurse in helping Johnny onto the table.  Carol placed a pillow under his head, fluffed it for comfort, and raised the head of the bed to aid his breathing. She pulled a mask from the wall, placed it over John’s nose and mouth, and dialed up the flow of oxygen.  Carol laid her hand over Johnny’s, offered a brief squeeze of reassurance and met his eyes.   She held his gaze for a long moment, and gave him a reassuring smile.

 

“We’ll take good care of you, Johnny.”

 

“I know . . . you will.”  John whispered, gracing the nurse with a shadow of his usual smile. The oxygen provided quick relief, and he laid back on the pillows Carol thoughtfully arranged for him. Johnny’s struggle abated with the flow oxygen.  His eyes drifted softly closed, and with a whisper of thanks, he settled into uneasy sleep.

 

 

Chapter 10

 

 

Three days later, Roy stepped into Johnny’s hospital room, and smiled unexpectedly. In the past few days, Johnny had been hazy at best; lulled into a drug-induced stupor that offered blessed relief from the pain that had dogged him for the last week.  

 

Today, Johnny was sitting up with a soft sleepy smile directed at Carol.  Carol laughed quietly, briefly placed her hand over his, and then stepped away.   “You’re definitely feeling better, John.”  Her smile widened.  “Its nice to see.”

 

Johnny’s cheeks flushed at the attention, and he dipped his head to hide his embarrassment.  

 

Carol laughed again.  “See you in an hour.  You know how to find me if you need something.  Remember, keep ahead of the pain.  No heroics . . . well, at least not when you’re in here.”

 

Johnny’s blush deepened at her light comment, and he pulled his blanket up higher, settling into the bed.   “Thanks Carol.”

 

She paused and looked back at him, her expression becoming serious.  “You’re most welcome.  I’m glad you’re doing better, Johnny. “

 

When Carol turned and saw Roy, she startled, and then recovered with a smile.   “He’s all yours Roy.  He’s sassy, but cooperative.   Make him stay in bed.  No attempting forays to the nurses’ lounge for coffee.”    Carol rolled her eyes in faux exasperation, and laughed.   She briefly brushed Roy’s hand as she passed and whispered,  “He’s doing really well, Roy.”

 

Roy’s mind skidded back to the fire, but he mentally shook himself, dampening the disturbing memories.   He nodded to Carol, and couldn’t help but smile at what had played out between her and Johnny.   Forever a charmer, Roy thought, grateful that the light missing from his partner for the past weeks had finally started to brighten.

 

Roy watched Johnny’s gaze follow Carol out of the room, completely oblivious to his presence.   Roy snickered out loud, amused by his partner’s characteristic interest in the comely nurse.

 

Johnny’s puzzled expression at his partner’s sudden insanity dissolved Roy’s residual worries.  This time, Roy didn’t bother to stifle his laughter, successfully dispelling his dark thoughts.

 

Not going there today, Roy thought, smiling and rolling his eyes at his partner.  Thank goodness, not today.

 

 

 

Finit –

 

Thinking of all our losses . . .especially A, D,D,and H… if only life could be mended as easily as in fanfiction….    <3  - Caressa, 2014