All things “Emergency” belong to Mark VII Productions and Universal Studios.

Please note that in this story, the color of the type denotes who is talking.

SUDDEN IMPACT

By Ocean
 

Boy. Today was a rotten day. My boss yelled at me when I got to work. It’s because I was late. I’m a waitress at Denny’s. He said, ‘Penny, I’d like to speak to you for a moment,’ while he looked down at me from over the top of his wire framed glasses.

Mr. Walker, better known as ‘Ted’, is my boss. He’s this short guy who thinks he’s really hot, but he isn’t. He has this dry way of looking at you where you wonder what in the heck he’s thinking, and you always know he’s staring at you even though he thinks he’s being surreptitious.

Anyway, he gave me this lecture about being late, which I’ve only been a few times, and said that this would be my last warning. Whatever that means. It’s not my fault; I told him when I started here that I wanted to work dinner shift, and he keeps scheduling me for breakfast. I hate breakfast shift. I have to be here at six-thirty a.m. I can’t get out of bed that early. It’s almost impossible. It’s still dark out.

Working breakfast is a bitch. You not only have to wait tables, but the side work is the pits. You have to chop all the vegetables and lettuce for the salads for lunch and dinner, pluck strawberries for pies, make desserts and coleslaw, and fill up the ketchup and mustard and salt and pepper containers. And the tips are terrible. You get maybe twenty-five or fifty cents a table because the breakfast checks are usually only around $2.00 or $3.00.

Today I think everyone and their brother ate breakfast here. I was so in the weeds; all my customers were complaining. The stupid cooks don’t know what they’re doing; they put three of my orders up at the same time, so there was no way I could get them all delivered hot. I was totally snowed, and no one would help me. Three of my tables stiffed me.

Then to top it all off, I got in a wreck on the way home. I didn’t see the guy in front of me stop, and by the time I saw him and hit the brakes it was too late. I plowed into him. It was so awful! The feeling that you know you’re going to hit someone and that there’s nothing you can do about it is terrible. You get this horrible feeling in the pit of your stomach. I can’t believe this has happened again! My insurance company is probably going to cancel me.

I don’t know why he had to stop so suddenly; I mean, it was raining and hard to see; he shouldn’t have been driving so erratically. Then he started screaming at me that I wrecked his new car. I mean, he was irate. And I started crying and I was shaking he had me so upset. It was so humiliating.

To make it worse, the fire department and the police showed up and this cop gave me a ticket. The only good part about it was this gorgeous fireman that helped me. I’d cut my head on the steering wheel. He was so sweet and gentle, and he had this crooked smile that made me almost forget that my car was going to have to be towed away because I couldn’t drive it.

His nametag said ‘J. Gage’, and he introduced himself as John. He looked to be a few years older than me, but I think we were close enough in age to be able to go out. I glanced over at his hand and he didn’t have a wedding ring on. I tried flirting with him, but he didn’t seem interested, just politely told me after he bandaged my head that I should have my family doctor check me out, then he left. Oh well. He’s probably dating some gorgeous blonde or something. Guess I’m not surprised. I’m not that attractive; my nose is too big and I’m too skinny. Some girls have a problem with weight, not me; I can’t seem to gain it.

The tow truck guy gave me a ride home. What an awful day.

Today was incredible. Absolutely incredible. There wasn’t one dull moment. It wasn’t surprising, given the crummy weather.

It was probably one of the most challenging days of my career, ever. It’s too bad Roy wasn’t here to share it with me. He’d been trying to avoid catching a flu bug that his kids had, but it finally nailed him.

I got partnered with a rookie. Well, he wasn’t exactly a rookie, but he was a little green. Just finished his training a few months ago. So he’s certified, but hasn’t had that much experience yet in the field. He’s been floating from station to station, so when Roy called in sick, he got assigned to work with me for the day.

He was an okay kid by the name of Brad. Huh. ‘Kid’. Listen to me. He’s twenty, only eight years younger than me. But it seems like a lifetime since I was that age. Or younger. I was kind of forced into adulthood at an early age. Like twelve, when my parents died. Maybe that’s why I feel older than my years sometimes. I don’t want to think about that right now though – or ever.

We got our first run right off the bat. It was a woman in labor who’d waited too long to call us. She was a young single mom and it was her first child. Well, I could tell without even examining her that we’d probably have to deliver the baby right there. You can just tell sometimes by how painful the contractions are, and how often they come. And I was right. When I checked, she was dilated ten centimeters.

Brad was nervous; I could tell by the way his hands shook and he stuttered a little bit. But he kept his cool and did a good job. I delivered the baby while he assisted and worked the biophone. He looked a little pale when it was all over. I thought he was gonna lose his cookies when I delivered the placenta. That part is a little gross; I have to admit. But it’s just part of life, and I’ve seen it enough times by now that it doesn’t bother me. This was Brad’s first time. He was really impressed with how I handled it and told me so.  It made me feel good. Made me realize how far I’d come.

But what really made me feel good was being able to hand that little baby boy over to the mother all pink and healthy, and to see her face. She was just so happy. I wished she had someone to share it with. It’s such a momentous event that it’s a shame that she didn’t. I just hope she’s going be able to take care of him all right and give him everything he needs. Maybe I’ll buy her some things for him, like a baby swing or something. He’ll definitely be getting a toy fire truck like the one I got Chris a few years ago.

He was handsome kid; not all squished up like so many babies are when they’re born. And it’s kinda strange how he just stared up at me when he was in her arms. Like he was in awe or something. I found out later that she named him after me. It wasn’t the first time a baby’s been named after me, but I was flyin’ high just the same. Man. What a way to start out your shift.

Later, around lunchtime, we got toned out on a heart attack case. It was a close call. Fifty-eight year old guy went into V-fib almost right after we got there. It took us over twenty minutes to stabilize him. Just like always with an MI, it was a stressful situation. I was wishing that Roy was with me, but Brad did a great job on it. He hesitated just a bit here and there, but for the most part he stayed on top of things, and the guy made it to the hospital. Brackett said he thinks he’ll be okay. Whew. Two saves and it wasn’t even mid afternoon yet. Mornings like this are what I love about this job.

We had another run to a car accident this afternoon, but no one was seriously injured. The girl that had rear-ended the guy in front of her ended up with a cut on her forehead, but that was all. I felt sorry for her. Poor kid; she was so upset, crying and everything. And the guy she hit was really mad; he was already complaining about his neck hurting. I suppose the jerk’ll sue her.

The icing on today’s cake was the ‘man trapped’ rescue we were called out to late this afternoon. A maintenance guy got stuck up on the top of a high rise while he was trying to change a light bulb at the top of the building. Why the heck he decided to take on this project in this kind of weather was beyond me, but I guess that’s what we’re here for.

It was an older building, probably built sometime in the thirties, about twenty-five stories. It was nice architecturally; it sort of looked like a miniature Empire State Building.

We thought everything was going to be pretty straight forward, until the power went out about thirty seconds after we arrived. That meant no elevator. It was climin’ the stairs blues for us. We brought just about everything up but the kitchen sink, because no one wanted to have to walk back down twenty-five flights of stairs if we forgot something. Mikey stayed down below just in case we needed anything. I don’t know if I’d want his job. Seems like he misses out on a lot of the action.

On the way up Cap asked the building manager why in the heck his maintenance man decided to try to change the burnt out bulbs in such inclement weather.

“Orders from the Mayor. The President’s going to be in LA tomorrow. He wanted everything to look perfect.”

The Cap just shook his head.

We finally got to the top floor. But we weren’t able to reach him from there. He was above that level. We were told there’s a locked service door that takes you out onto a ledge around the building. From there a tiny service elevator takes you up into the pinnacle of the building, where you can exit outside and have access to the lighting, which was placed strategically around the exterior. It made the building look really nice at night and sometimes, like at Christmas, they put color filters over them.

Well, with the power being out, the service elevator was inoperable. To make matters worse, the trapped maintenance man radioed the building manager that he was feeling short of breath and having chest pains, and to please hurry.

“Let’s check it out,” Cap said, and led the way through the service door after the building manager unlocked it. The rain slammed into our faces the minute we walked out onto that ledge, even though there was a small overhang. Man, it was vicious. And the wind was wild. And cold.

All of us looked skyward as Sid, the building manager, pointed up to where his maintenance man was trapped.

I took a deep breath and worked to mentally prepare myself. I glanced at Brad. Okay, Boy Wonder, better get the Batrope, ‘cause I’m gonna have to climb this bad boy. I almost voiced that rather blithe thought until I looked at Cap, then decided to keep my mouth shut. I saw him glance at me with a grimace. We both knew whom it was that was going to have to climb up the side of that building.

I was the best climber.

Maybe if Roy had been there, he would have volunteered, but I would have jumped in ahead of him anyway, because I know he doesn’t like the high rescues, and anyways, he doesn’t need to be taking chances like this with a wife and two kids depending on him. Besides, for some bizarre reason, I like the high rescues.

Just like every time the Cap sends one of us to do a dangerous job, the look in his eyes wasn’t any different this time. I can tell he hates this part of the job, that he’d almost rather go himself than send one of us. Maybe it’s the dad in him. But I don’t want him to feel that way. This is my job. It’s what I was trained to do. Cap is good at his job, great actually, and he never hesitates or puts off what needs to be done, but I could see the regret in his face anyway.

I threw him a smile to set him at ease. “I needed a shower anyway,” I said, shrugging.

He just frowned at me. “Okay. How do you want to do this?” he asked.

Then we got together and worked out a plan as to how in the heck I was going to reach this guy. Visually, we couldn’t see him; all we knew was that he was somewhere on the south side of the building, above us.

The only way I could see to get to him was to shoot a lifeline up there and free climb it. Despite my tendency to be a bit of a daredevil, I didn’t really relish the thought of climbing hand over hand up the side of a building in the rain over two hundred feet off the ground. Oh, and did I mention there was an electrical storm going on? The lightning was absolutely crazy, and I guess I was too. It was risky and dangerous, and there were probably a million things that could go wrong, but I didn’t have much choice.

We used the life gun.  It took three tries to get it on target because of the wind. We finally secured the line around the top of the building, but it sure wasn’t easy getting the rope around it. As soon as we had it I put on my climbing gear.

My adrenalin was pumping now. I was ready. Cap was practically wringing his hands. It’s worse for him because, being the one to issue the orders, he ends up doing the supervising instead of the work a lot of the times. He’s the one to make sure everything goes smoothly, to spot any problems.

Everyone had a determined look on their face as they secured my line for climbing. Everyone did their part; that’s what I love about the guys I work with. We all work together so well; sometimes it’s like we all know what the others are thinking. It would have been complete had Roy been there.

I scooted out onto the wet edge of the concrete overhang, and standing up, I started to climb.

I pretended I was Batman as I made my way up the side of the building. Not that I ever watched the show as a kid ‘cause it wasn’t on then, but I’d watched reruns with Roy’s son, Chris, so I imagined that’s what I looked like climbing up. I wondered if someone was gonna open the window and stick their head out and talk to me like they used to on that show. Usually it was some lady with rollers in her hair and cold cream on her face. Except the windows up here were just decorative; they didn’t open and there were no rooms behind them. So I guess that wasn’t going to happen.

It’s not that I wasn’t focused on what I was doing; it’s just that sometimes when I’m in a hairy situation I try to think lighter thoughts. It saves my sanity – especially when I’m two hundred feet high during a lightning storm. Not a good place to get nervous.

Fortunately because of the architecture of the building, there were lots of footholds –  cornices and decorative structures sticking out that I could get my feet on. It might not have been so bad had it been a nice sunny day. But the wind and the rain were killin’ me. It stung my face and made it hard to see. Every few feet I tightened the rope on my belt to take up the slack. My arms were starting to ache. I knew I was gonna be sore tomorrow.

I made it to the top of the next small ledge and looked over. He wasn’t there. Shit, I thought. He must be up on the next level. I kept going. Now I couldn’t see the guys below me anymore, and they couldn’t see me. Not good. But I was almost there.

A gust of wind hit me hard, and I slipped a few feet, slamming into the building. A decorative piece of stone caught me in the side and almost knocked my breath out. For a few seconds I though I was in deep do-do as my hands slipped down the rope. But I managed to regain my grip and then just hung there as the rain pelted me and my side pulsed. It took me a few seconds to recover, and then I got my second wind. I had about another six feet to go.

I felt like that ape in the movie, King Kong or something, hangin’ on to the top of the Empire State Building. I half expected a little propeller plane to fly by and try to shoot at me. That’s all I would have needed.

I finally made it. I swung my leg over the top ledge, then pulled the rest of me over.

Man, it was cramped up there. There was hardly any space, just enough for the light boxes.

The stuck maintenance man sagged with relief when he saw me.

“Hey, man; how’re you doin’?” I asked, smiling, like I’d just run into him at the park and not on the edge of a high rise.

“Crappy,” he said truthfully, “but very glad to see you.”

He didn’t look like he was doing too good. He was drenched, well, so was I, and his arm was wedged down inside one of the light boxes and he said he thought it was broken. He said he fell when the wind knocked him down. As a precaution I radioed the Cap to make sure the power stayed off. It hadn’t hurt the maintenance guy, but I didn’t want to take any chances on some wires shorting out and barbequing us if the power suddenly came back on.

“Okay, hang on,” I said, and shimmied over to try to examine his arm and get him out. It wasn’t easy; there was barely enough room for one person up here, not to mention two. I practically had to stand on top of the guy to check him out. “What’s your name,” I yelled through the wind.

“Vern.” His voice was tight with pain, and he was almost hyperventilating. It’s a good thing Vern had his radio, or he might have spent the night up here.

“Okay, well just try to relax, Vern, and I’ll get you outta here in two shakes.”

His arm was really jammed in there, and he was bleeding too. I was going to need the porta-power to get his arm free.

I radioed to the Cap that I was going to send a line down for it.

“You need any help up there?” he asked.

I almost laughed. Even if I did there was no way I’d have any of the other guys make that climb, and besides, there wasn’t enough room for anyone else.

Unfortunately, to get the line down to the guys I had to climb back down a few feet. There were too many obstacles on the building to get a line around. I had them send me up the porta-power, a splint, and an extra belt. All the while I was trying to decide how the heck I was going to get Vern down.

I got his arm out, and then things went downhill. He kept complaining that his chest was hurting and he was hyperventilating. Then he passed out. Thank God he still had a pulse, but it was thready and irregular. I knew I had to get him out of there fast. There was no way to do CPR on him or defibrillate up here if the need arose.

So I got his arm splinted and came up with a plan.

I told Cap what I had in mind, and he asked me again if I needed someone to come up there and help me. I told him no, that there wasn’t room, and so he reluctantly agreed with my idea. I could tell he didn’t like it, but I really didn’t have any other options.

I couldn’t just lower him down the side of the building because of all the obstacles; he’d probably get hurt worse that way, or even get caught on something. Roy and I had gotten two injured guys off the side of a cliff once when we were in Santa Rose County on vacation. We’d used air mattresses to cushion our victims and then tied them to our backs. Then we rappelled down to the ground. It had been tricky, but it worked. It was the only way I could see to get this guy down, since he wasn’t going to be able to make it on his own.

Getting him onto my back was going to be challenging. Thank goodness he was a little guy though; he only weighed about a hundred and forty pounds. Had he been a heavy person, I don’t know what I would have done. I’m pretty strong, but I’m not Hercules. I’ve lifted my share of big guys, but with so little room to maneuver, and having to rappel down a building in a storm with a huge amount of weight, well, I don’t think I could have handled that.

I finally got him hooked to my belt and strapped on to my back. Hunched over, I radioed to the Cap that I was ready to descend. I about jumped out of my shoes when a blinding flash of lightning coincided with a boom of thunder. It was too close for my taste.

Then I went over the ledge. That was no easy feat. I went painfully slow; I didn’t want to lose control. Even though he didn’t weigh a lot, it felt like a lot. The lightning was menacing and the wind was still merciless.

I heard a humming noise and glanced sideways. I couldn’t believe there was a helicopter up there flying around the building, apparently up to watch the show. I felt like King Kong again, and hoped he wouldn’t shoot at me. It occurred to me that if he stayed up there much longer, he was going to be the one barbequed.

I got beyond the first ledge and started to feel more confident that there wouldn’t be any problems. Then I descended a little too quickly and my leg slammed into the building when I stopped suddenly. Something sharp sliced into my knee and it hurt like hell. I hovered there for several long seconds until the pain receded and I could breathe. The muscles in my arms were burning.

“Gage! Gage, you okay?” I heard the Cap yell. By now he could see us; we were only about twelve feet away by then.

“Yeah!” I yelled, finally catching my breath. Man, that smarted, but at this point the rain was making me so cold that my knee quickly began to feel numb.

I continued on, and then my feet finally touched the ledge. I felt hands pulling me down, guiding me back to solid ground. I’d made it.

We got Vern inside and laid him down. It wasn’t easy working by flashlight. Apparently the building’s generators weren’t working either. I patched him in and contacted the hospital. After some IV fluids and other miracle drugs we got him packed up and ready to go. We carried him in the stokes down the twenty-five flights, then I rode in the ambulance with him.

 I didn’t even notice until I got to the hospital that my pants leg was torn open and I had a big gash on my knee. Dixie brought it to my attention in the ER when I started dripping blood on ‘her floor’. Not only that, but I ruined a perfectly good pair of new pants and stained my socks. Dix made me go see Dr. Morton, who, with his usual wonderful bedside manner, put four stitches in it. That hurt worse than when I bashed it into the building, or at least the four anesthetic injections he gave me did. Jeez, I never realized how sensitive your knee is.

Cap was waiting for us when we got back to the station. I’d just gotten out of the driver’s seat of the squad when he came up to me and said, “John, I just want to tell you that you did an outstanding job up there today.”

I smiled little self-consciously, a little caught off guard at his praise.

“I mean it. You pulled off an amazing piece of work today, and I just want to say…well, I feel very fortunate to have you as part of my team.”

“Thanks, Cap.” I looked him in the eyes. He really meant it. It wasn’t that Cap never complimented us, but I guess it was just the deep sincerity behind it that sort of surprised me. Not that I’m saying that the Cap isn’t sincere; no, I don’t mean that. I guess I just wasn’t expecting it.

I suddenly felt kind of warm. I guess I was a little embarrassed, but at the same time I felt good. Really good. He patted me once on the shoulder and retreated into his office to do some paperwork.

After that I ran back through the rescue in my mind, thinking about everything I did, and if there would have been anything I’d have done differently next time. There wasn’t. Not one single thing. Even though it’d been an incredibly rough and dangerous rescue, I felt like everything had gone really smoothly. More than that, I was really proud of the way I’d executed it. Even Brad made several comments about it on the way back to the station. I think he was kind of awestruck by me after the day we’d spent together. It was kinda nice for a change in my life to be looked up to.  

If anyone had told me ten years ago that I’d have been able to accomplish what I had today, I wouldn’t have believed them. Then I realized how far I’d come in my career. Today I really felt like I was at the top of my game.

I’ve been doing pretty good the last couple of weeks getting to work on time. There were a few times I was almost late, but I managed to clock in just in the nick of time. It wasn’t easy with my car being in the shop; I’ve been having to take the bus, which really stinks.

Then today, it happened. I missed my bus because I overslept and I was late. I couldn’t believe Mr. Walker didn’t say a thing to me. But then at the end of my shift he called me into his office and closed the door. The expression on his face made my stomach churn, and then he looked right at me and said, “Penny, I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to let you go.”

I stood there in shock for a long time, not believing it, not believing I’d been fired – again. I tried to explain to him why I was late, but he didn’t want to hear it. He said it wasn’t just my tardiness, that it was my attitude too. I guess he overheard me telling one of my co-workers that I hated the job. I tried arguing about that too; I told him I didn’t hate it, that I was just in a bad mood that particular day, but I could tell he didn’t believe me. He said there were just too many complaints about me from the customers. Then he had the gall to suggest that maybe I wasn’t cut out to be a waitress, that it was hard work, and that ‘one has to be extremely organized to be successful’. He thought maybe I should consider some other type of career. ‘Career’. Yeah right. I didn’t think of this stinking job as a career. If I’d had the money I would have finished college and had a real career.

I felt tears building up in my eyes, so I left. There was no way I was going to give him the satisfaction of crying in front of him. It would have just given him another reason to say I was ‘unprofessional’.

I caught the bus and went home, feeling awful. I sat around for a while not knowing what to do. I wished I could have called my mom, but she died when I was eight. And I didn’t want to disappoint my dad. He was always saying how proud he was of Liz, my older sister. She had a good job as a pharmacist, was married to a rich lawyer, and had two perfect kids. I felt like a failure compared to her.

So I called Danny, my boyfriend. We’ve been dating about a year. He kind of sighed when I told him and said he was sorry, but he didn’t sound that sorry. I wanted to see him so bad, but he said he’d already made plans with the guys for tonight. I hung up feeling even worse than before.

I was so down, and I could feel the depression hanging over me again. I hate when that happens; sometimes it takes weeks to go away. I wondered how long it would last this time. I called my girlfriend Tammy and we decided to go out for a drink. I figured the alcohol would help me forget all my problems.

Life’s been really good to me lately. A few weeks after that high-rise rescue, Roy and I came back from a run and were getting coffee in the kitchen when I heard Captain Stanley calling for me. Before I had the chance to get to him, he found me.

“Gage?” He poked his head around the corner of the doorway, then stepped in, holding an envelope.

“Yeah, Cap?”

He looked kind of serious, so I set my coffee cup down on the table and walked towards him. He had sort of an odd smile on his face, and I couldn’t tell if he was gonna tell me something good or bad.

“The, ah, Chief stopped by to see you while you and Roy were out.”

My eyes bugged out at him and I swallowed. Cap was looking at me, not at Roy. My hope that maybe he was referring to Roy was short-lived. My voice got stuck in my throat. “M-me?” I said in a voice that didn’t sound like myself.

Roy looked concerned. “What did he want, Cap?”

Then Cap held out the envelope. It was oversized, about nine by twelve. “He wanted me to give you this.” He handed me the envelope.

I took it like it like it had poisonous thorns stuck in it, terrified to open it.

Oh my God; he’s finally suspending me because I never got my hair cut! I stood there like an idiot, having no clue what could possibly be in that envelope, and not really wanting to find out.

By now everyone was curious, and all the guys had gathered around me.

“Well, c’mon, open it, Gage,” Chet chided.

I looked around at everyone, stopping on Roy’s face. He obviously had no clue either and just shrugged at me.

“C’mon, Johnny, just open it,” he prodded.

“Yeah, it won’t bite,” said Mike. Why he was smiling, I don’t know.

I drew in a breath and tore it open, slowly pulling out the paper inside. What have I done? Is this the end of my career? I don’t know why I was thinking so negatively, maybe I thought it was too good to be true that things had been going so well lately, and now it was over.

I slid the paper out and began to read. My hands were shaking. The familiarity hit me immediately and I held my breath, not believing what I was seeing. At the top of the paper, it said, ‘Letter of Commendation’.

I was still in denial as I read the words on the page:

On behalf of LA county fire department, I commend you in the highest possible terms for your courage and dedication. On January 20^th, you responded to a rescue call at the Jefferson Building during a dangerous storm. Showing complete disregard for your own safety, and with great difficulty, you extricated a victim, unquestionably saving his life. Your coolness, bravery and persistence in the face of intense personal jeopardy reflect great credit on yourself and are in the finest tradition of this department.

~Richard H. Houts, Chief Engineer.

I looked up, dazed, and saw the Cap smiling.

“He preferred to deliver this to you personally, John, but he had an appointment to make, so he asked me. Congratulations.” He held out his hand for me to shake.

I stood there, stunned, until finally I felt the Cap take my hand and shake it.

Chet had been up on his tiptoes trying to read it, but couldn’t. “What is it? What is it?” he asked.

Roy snatched it out of my hands and read it out loud, looking just as stunned as I was, and probably wondering why this was only for me and not him. He was probably having a major deja-vu right now because the last time this happened, neither one of us could remember the rescue that was referred to. Then it had turned out that the awards had been meant for two other guys; it had been a station mix up. I knew this time it wasn’t. The Chief had referred to the exact rescue this time. It was one I wouldn’t forget for a long time.

Roy started to look confused, and I knew why. He couldn’t remember the rescue because that was the day he was off sick.

It didn’t take long though. Realization hit him and he looked up at me and pointed. “That high-rise rescue you did, the one on TV, that’s what this is for, right?” It had turned out that the helicopter I’d seen while hanging from the building was filming me. It was all over the news that night. Apparently everyone in the city had seen me do my Batwalk up the side of the building. I’d had several days of celebrity status after that, but then it’d died down and I hadn’t thought anything more about it.

“Yep,” the Cap answered, since I was still too tongue-tied to say anything.

At that point, all the guys grabbed my hand to shake and congratulated me, and I slowly started to relax. I was just so thankful that it wasn’t something bad that I think the significance hadn’t really sunk in.

Chet reached out and pushed my jaw up to close my mouth, which had been hanging halfway open all this time in shock. I batted his hand away, then turned toward my partner.

I looked at Roy then, feeling bad and even a little embarrassed that I’d received the award and he hadn’t. I sort of felt like I’d stolen it away from him, like we were a team and that I’d betrayed him by getting it without him. But he just grinned at me and slapped me on the back, pumping my hand up and down.

The rest of that day I was sort of floating on a cloud of disbelief and humility.

Once word had gotten around at the hospital they treated me like I was a celebrity or something. Everyone was shaking my hand, and I even got kisses (on the cheek) from a few of the nurses. It was an amazing day.

Later that evening I went out to the parking lot to think and sort of let it sink in; I just needed a little time to be alone after all the hype of the day.

Even though Roy had congratulated me, I still couldn’t shake feeling bad for him.  I was still feeling guilty for stealing the honor away from him. As good as I felt, we were partners, and I just wished he’d been able to share it with me.

I was leaning against my Rover, staring into space when he came up to me quietly, handing me a cup of hot coffee.

“Thanks,” I said, kind of surprised at the gesture.

Roy took a sip of his own coffee, then stared out at the setting sun for a while. Finally he turned to me. “You want to tell me what’s bothering you?”

I stiffened a little. I don’t know how Roy does it, but he has this uncanny knack for always knowing when something is bugging me. I can’t understand it; I’ve been acting perfectly normal all day.

I took a deep breath and sighed, feeling stupid and guilty for feeling guilty. I mean, I was supposed to be happy, wasn’t I? How ungrateful can a guy get? I didn’t really know how to explain it to Roy. “I don’t know…I mean, it’s stupid.”

“Probably,” he said, “but maybe you’ll feel better if you just come out with it.”

Maybe he was right. “I…I just feel kinda bad…I mean, I just wish…”

“Wish what?” He looked confused. “What have you got to feel bad about?”

He looked at me for about ten seconds, then the light bulb went on. “Are you feeling bad because I didn’t get this?”

“Yeah,” I said in a low voice.

He looked at me incredulously, but then that expression softened and he looked kind of touched. “Johnny, I was sick; remember?”

“Yeah; I – I remember. But the last time this happened, even though it was a mistake, we got the awards together.”

“Johnny, I wasn’t even there.”

“Yeah, I know that. It’s just that we’re a team and, well…” I shrugged.

“Johnny. My self esteem’s not that low.”

I looked at him uncertainly, trying to ascertain from his expression if that’s how he really felt, hoping it was. “I-I know.”

“My feelings aren’t hurt. Okay? Now, I saw that rescue you did. Because about all I did that day was lay in bed in front of the TV. And it was pretty incredible. You did an outstanding job. You’ve got every right to be proud of this. So, just because I wasn’t there doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be basking in this right now.”

I just stared at him, not knowing what to say.

“You deserve this,” he said sincerely. “You’ve worked hard to get where you are.” He looked at me a moment longer, then said, “I’m proud of you, partner.”

I couldn’t believe it. Well, yeah I could. I should have known he’d be this way. Roy was genuinely happy for me and not the least bit jealous.

Then I wondered to myself if I would have been as big-hearted about it as Roy was being. Of course I’d be happy for him if this were reversed. But to be honest, I think I might be disappointed at not being included. But that was like Roy, I guess. He wasn’t much for being in the limelight. To tell the truth, I wasn’t either. It kind of made me uncomfortable.

“Thank you,” was all I could think of to say. His blessing meant a lot to me, and instantly I felt better. I smiled wider. “Thanks a lot, Roy.”

“No problem. I’m just glad I was able to straighten you out,” he said good-naturedly.

“It would have been both of us if you’d have been there,” I insisted.

“Sure.” He smiled like he was humoring me.

“Next time it will be,” I said.

“Right,” he said like he could care less. “Hey, did you tell Monica yet?”

My eyes widened. I’d completely forgotten to call her. “No! I totally forgot!”

“Well, go call her.” He nudged me once, smiling.

“I will!” I trotted a few steps away from Roy to make the call, then turned back. “Thanks, Roy!”

He waved me on.

I ran into the dorm to call Monica.

She’s the girl I’ve been seeing for the past couple of months. She’s incredible. And gorgeous. She has this beautiful shiny long dark hair that make her blue eyes look like sparkling pools of water. Hm. That would sound good in a poem. I’ll have to write one for her. Anyway, she’s got legs that won’t quit, and the rest of her…well…the rest of her is just as good. And not only that, she’s smart.

I met her at the library. Yes, believe it or not, I do go to the library. Regularly. I like to read, mostly historical novels, but I like biographies and some non-fiction too. Monica works there. She’s a Library Science Technician. (That’s librarian in laymen’s terms.) Anyway, she was helping me find something one day and we seemed to hit it off, so I asked her out. Chet didn’t believe me when I showed him her picture and told her where I met her. He thinks the only thing I read is Wheels and Gears. I told him to eat his heart out.

She’s a really nice girl. She’s intelligent, but doesn’t act like a know-it-all. Not like that stewardess chick I dated once – Sue was her name. She was nice too – until we went out, and then all she did was point out my faults to me. On our first date! Jeez, I admit I’m far from perfect, but a guy doesn’t enjoy having a girl nit-picking him on the first date. Oh well, I guess it was better that I found out early what she was really like.

Anyway, I called Monica and told her I had a surprise I wanted to tell her about, something we could celebrate. She sounded excited. I was lucky; she was off tomorrow, so she agreed to meet me for breakfast in the morning. She even offered to cook – at my place. Things were sounding better and better. I couldn’t wait to see her and tell her.

I slept good that night. The excitement of the day finally did me in. I felt content and happy. I wished my parents and family were alive to see this accomplishment. I think they would have been proud of me.

Tammy picked me up and we went to Larry’s place for a drink. It was small and cozy; Danny and I used to go in there but hadn’t for a while. It seemed as good a place as any to go where I could pour my heart out to a friend about my woes. Besides, they had a good happy hour and drinks were cheap.

We’d been there about an hour and had just finished our second drink when I saw Tammy staring at something. Her eyes got wide and she got this nervous expression on her face.

“What?” I asked her.

“Don’t turn around!” she hissed at me.

Of course that made me want to turn around and I did. I couldn’t help it. Danny had just walked in with a girl on his arm. Some blonde. He was helping her off with her coat, and then he slid into a booth next to her, wrapping his arm around her. He didn’t even notice me staring at him.

I was in shock and I suddenly felt sick.

“Bastard,” Tammy said. She looked at me with worry. “Are you okay?”

I didn’t know what to say. Of course I wasn’t okay! First I lost my job, and then I just found out my boyfriend is cheating on me, and that he lied to me. How long had this been going on, I wondered. And I wondered if his blonde bimbo knew that he was two-timing her. Just when I thought my life couldn’t get any worse, this happens. I couldn’t help it; tears sprang to my eyes.

“C’mon, Penny. Let’s get out of here,” Tammy said.

I glanced around behind me again and saw Danny give her a kiss. I spun back around, grabbed my napkin and wiped my eyes. I wasn’t just upset any more. I was angry and humiliated.

I got up, carrying half a glass of beer. Tammy followed. I calmly walked over to his table.

“Out with the boys, huh?” I said disparagingly.

His eyes shot open so wide it looked like he’d just sat down in a fire. “Penny,” he choked.

“Looks like you need a little cooling off,” I said, then dumped my beer in his lap. Then as he jumped up sputtering, I set my glass down on his table and casually walked toward the door. Tammy was smirking as she followed me out.

Just as we were leaving, a big group of people was heading in. I couldn’t believe it; one of the men was the cute fireman who had helped me when I’d wrecked my car. I tried to make eye contact with him, but he didn’t notice me. He was too busy paying attention to the girl he was with. Well, I’d been right about one thing; he did have a gorgeous girlfriend; she just wasn’t blonde. Seeing him just made me feel worse. Not wanting to humiliate myself further, I rushed outside.

Tammy clapped for me when we got out of there. She was thrilled at the way I’d handled it. ‘Put him in his place,’ she said.

But it was really him who’d put me in my place. And that was out. Out of his life. And no matter how well I’d handled it, I still felt like shit. I cried myself to sleep that night.

Monica was waiting for me when I got home that morning. She stood there at my door with a bag of groceries in her hands, smiling.

God, she looked so beautiful, and so un-librarian-ish. Those tight faded jeans she wore and that clingy top made me want to grab her and ravage her right there on the spot, but I held back, figuring there’d be time for ravaging later. At least I hoped there was.

I showed her the commendation right away and she was thrilled for me. I realized then how nice it was to have a woman to share things like this with. Guess that’s what it’s like for Roy all the time.

She’d actually brought a bottle of champagne with her, so she opened it and made mimosas for us. That’s just orange juice and champagne mixed together. She made a funny toast; I don’t remember what it was, then we drank. Somewhere in between sips of our drinks she gave me a congratulatory kiss, then that was it. We couldn’t stop. Not that we wanted to.

We took our celebration between the sheets for about an hour. Oh man, that was…

Then she finally made breakfast: bacon and eggs, fried potatoes and bagels with cream cheese and jelly. Bagels, that was something new for me; it wasn’t something I ever ate, but I liked them.

We celebrated some more after that.

Boy, I could get used to mornings like this!

That afternoon, Roy called. He’d arranged a get together with all the guys, their wives and girlfriends for this evening at a place called Larry’s. He thought it would be nice to celebrate my award. Roy’s a hell of a friend. It was the perfect end to a perfect day.

It was a nice little pub, just the right size for a low-key night with friends. Although after a few adult beverages, the place got a little livelier with all of us in it.

This was the first time any of my friends had met Monica. I think she made a good impression; I could tell they all liked her. She’s a real upbeat person. She’s always smiling and always seems to have the nicest thing to say about anyone she talks to. She has this natural ability to make people feel comfortable around her and feel good about themselves. I think she liked the guys too.

She certainly didn’t hesitate to show how much she liked me. She only had a couple of drinks, but she’s small and doesn’t drink much, so it doesn’t take much to affect her. She got a little bit tipsy, not enough to do anything embarrassing, I mean her speech wasn’t slurred or anything; let’s just say she was rather demonstrative with her affections. She kept whispering suggestive things in my ear and it was hard for me to keep a straight face, not to mention how hard it was to keep from getting a…never mind.

The guys were all snickering because it wasn’t too hard to figure out what she had in mind for us after we left the party. Fortunately, Monica didn’t realize that they noticed. It was a good thing it was dark in there; my face probably turned ten shades of red.

We all had a great time – I even got to shoot a few games of pool. I won five bucks, and then I tried to teach Monica how to play. I enjoyed that, especially the part where I stood behind her and wrapped my arms around her to show her how to hold and shoot the cue. She liked it too because she kept asking me to help her. It stoked the fire for what we were gonna do later.

It was late when we left. We decided to take a cab home since we’d had some drinks. Monica said she’d drive me over to pick up my car in the morning. Then she showed me, again, exactly how proud of me she really was. All I can say is, well, it was an incredible night, both at and after the party.

I can’t find a job. I’ve applied at ten different places so far and no one’s interested in hiring me. I don’t know what I’m going to do. I don’t have any money to pay my bills. My rent is three weeks overdue and my landlord is threatening to evict me if I don’t pay. He was nice about my late payments the first three times or so. He’s not nice any more.

I got a notice in the mail that my auto insurance company, after they pay for this accident, is canceling me. I called six other companies, and only one will take me on, but they’re so expensive I can’t afford it. My car will be fixed and I won’t be able to drive it.

I haven’t seen Danny since that night in the bar. He hasn’t even bothered to call me. I miss him, even though I hate him.

I feel so alone. I tried calling my dad, but I just got his answering machine. I guess he’s out of town again. I refuse to call my sister. She would never understand. Her life is so perfect that she can’t relate. Besides, she’d just try to tell me all the things I should be doing instead of listening and trying to help me feel better. I could talk to Tammy, but I’m sure she gets sick of hearing me complain about all my problems. Besides, she has a new boyfriend and has been spending all her time with him.

Nothing is going right, but nothing in my life ever has. I feel like I’ve failed at everything I’ve ever done.

Another week’s gone by. I’ve applied for more jobs, but have gotten nowhere. I might as well give up. No one wants to hire someone with my track record.

I got the eviction notice today. I’ve got until the end of the month to get all my things out. I guess I’ll have to live on the street.

I’m really depressed. It’s like this horrible black…thing…has swallowed me up. I can’t describe it, except to say it’s kind of a sick feeling of hopelessness in my stomach. I can’t get out of bed in the morning. I just lay in the darkness, too down to get up and face the world. I finally pulled myself out of bed at noon today, but only because I had to go to the bathroom. I wish I had someone to talk to about my problems, someone who could help me get back on my feet again. But I have no money and can’t afford a psychiatrist.

I feel hungry, but nothing sounds good. I know I need to eat, but I haven’t been to the grocery, and I don’t have much to choose from. I don’t have money to buy much food either. I was skinny before, now I’m really pathetic looking. My choices are a can of chicken noodle soup, some stale bread, peanut butter, a box of Cheerios, and a head of lettuce. I’d eat the soup, but making it is too much effort. Besides, it doesn’t appeal to me anyway.

All I do when I’m up is watch TV. It helps take my mind off my problems somewhat, and gives me something to do to pass the time of the day until it’s time to go to bed again. That’s my favorite part of the day. Night. Then I can go to sleep and hope that maybe I’ll dream something good that doesn’t remind me of how awful my life is. I almost hate it when I wake up in the morning because the thought of facing another day is too overwhelming.

 I just don’t have the energy or the will to do anything anymore. What’s the point? I don’t know why I even keep bothering to stay alive.

I’m starting to think I’d be better off dead.

I’m thinking about asking Monica to move in with me. I really like her a lot. I think about her all the time. I think it’d be nice to have her around all the time. And having her in my arms to go to sleep with and wake up with every day is something I find myself wanting more and more lately. We’re almost never apart anyway when we’re both off work.

But I wonder if it’s too soon. Maybe I should give it a little more time. Patience has never been my strong suit. I’m not getting any younger; maybe I should start thinking about settling down. Living together would sort of be the first step, just to see if it would work out, without having to make the full commitment.

I wonder what the guys would think if we lived together. Would Roy look down on me for that? I know my parents would never have approved. But it is the seventies. And I’m almost thirty, for heaven’s sake. It’s not like I’ve saved myself for marriage or anything. Ha, that’s a laugh; I lost my virginity when I was fifteen. Had my folks been alive they’d have killed me if they’d known. It was kind of young I suppose. Guess I was a little out of control back then. But that’s what happens when you don’t have parents around. You do what you want. After Grandfather died, I didn’t have any guidance at all. I was on my own.

Man, I was wild back then. All the drinking and smoking I did, (and not just cigarettes), what a messed up teenager I was. I don’t know where my head was at back then. Nowhere good, I can tell you that. I’d be embarrassed to tell any of my friends that stuff now for fear of what they’d think of me. It makes me cringe sometimes when I think of my past and what I did. I’m not particularly proud of it. But I guess it goes to show you that anyone can change. I sure did.

I thank God for my aunt. She got me straightened around. My life really started improving after I moved in with her. I don’t think I’d be here today if it hadn’t been for her. I wonder if I’d still be on the rez if Mom and Dad were still here.

No, I don’t think so. 

Man, my mind’s wandering. I gotta figure out what to do about Monica. I don’t know. Maybe I should just do nothing and let things flow the way they are. Maybe let the relationship grow a little more. This is gonna take some serious thought. Maybe I’ll ask Roy what he thinks.

I feel lucky right now. Things have been going so well for me. I love my job, I have great friends, a wonderful girl, and almost best of all, I haven’t had any injuries or hospital stays for a long time…well, almost a year. That’s pretty good for me. I think I’m on a winning streak. I think all my bad luck is behind me now. Yep, from now on, everything is gonna be smooth sailing.

It’s been a month since I lost my job. A month of hell. I tried calling my dad again. I found out he’s away on a business trip to Florida. He’s a recruiter for the football team at UCLA, so he travels a lot. I wish I could talk to him now but I don’t know where he’s staying.

I don’t know what to do to make my life better. I don’t think there’s anything I can do. I’ve failed at everything. If only I had the money for a psychiatrist, but that’s just something for the rich. Even if I had health insurance, I know they wouldn’t pay for it. 

I’m not happy being alive any more. I think I really just want to die. I want to be with my mother again. I miss her so much.

Oh God. 

I think…I think I want to end my life.

Yes, I want this to end. But how?

Sleeping pills would probably be the best way, except for one thing. I can’t swallow pills. And I can’t sit in my car in the garage with the door closed and run the engine and die of carbon monoxide poisoning because I don’t have my car. I don’t have a garage either. I guess I’ll have to jump off a building or a bridge or something. I hate heights though. I could just jump in front of a truck.

I’m scared, but I just want this to be over. I can’t stand to live another day like this.

I asked Roy what he thought about asking Monica to move in with me and he just stared at me with his eyes bugged out like he thought I’d grown another head. He looked shocked, actually. Then I decided I should have just kept my mouth shut. I guess I didn’t because I respect Roy’s opinion and wanted to know what he thought. Usually I can count on him for a straight and sensible opinion; he’s even helped me out of a few jams over the years.

“Are you really that serious about her?” he asked me, his face now changing from shock to disbelief.

I was a little taken aback. I mean, I didn’t say we were getting married, just that I was thinking about asking her to live with me.

“When you live with a girl, it’s gonna be like being married, you know?”

How would he know? He’s never lived with a girl. At least not before marriage. “Well, yeah, I guess so,” I said with uncertainty, not agreeing completely.

“Are you ready to give up dating other girls and most of your freedom?”

I crinkled my eyebrows at him. “Roy, you don’t make it sound very appealing. I thought you were happy being married.”

He started backpedaling then. “Oh, I am. I am. I’m just not sure you would be.”

I stared at him rather incredulously. “Why not?” I wondered why Roy seemed to think I wasn’t marriage material, and I was a little annoyed. Now I was beginning to regret that I’d even started this conversation, but I still wanted to hear his answer.

He sat down next to me on the bench in the locker room. I glanced around, hoping Chet wasn’t lurking in the shadows someplace and overhearing our conversation. Man, that’d be just what I needed.

“Johnny, I just always thought you liked your freedom to come and go as you want. When you live with someone, you can’t do that. For example, you’re not going to be able to just pick up your gear and take off camping whenever you want.”

“Why not? Monica wouldn’t mind.”

Roy smiled placatingly at me. “I wouldn’t count on that, Johnny. When you live with someone, you’ve got someone else’s feelings to consider all the time. You’ll have to let her know where you are, where you’re going, and when you’ll be back. Otherwise, she’ll worry.”

“I know that.” I didn’t think Roy was giving me very much credit. I realized all those things.

“And what about dating other girls?”

“I don’t want to date any other girls.”

Roy kept a straight face, but I could still read a little skepticism – and surprise in his face. That little twitch of his eye said it all.

“And what happens if you have a falling out with Monica? Then, if you break up, it’ll be like getting a divorce.”

I stared at Roy a long moment, then looked away. Obviously, Roy was basing my relationship with Monica on my other failed relationships. Which, I guess I had to admit, there were quite a few of. I was disappointed. I felt like he’d popped my bubble. Took all the wind out of my sails.

He did have some good points. But they were all things that I’d thought about already and hadn’t thought they’d present a problem. I was certain that Monica, as sweet and easy going as she was, would be easy to live with. I didn’t see her as being demanding or possessive.

I sighed, feeling deflated. The strange thing was, even though I realized that Roy was just trying to play devil’s advocate, it only made me want to be with her more. I wiped my hand across my face and sighed again, not really cognizant that I’d voiced my next thought. “I’m just tired of bein’ alone.”

And I think I might be in love with her.

 He looked at me strangely then, and his expression changed, as if he were seeing me for the first time. The tones rang before we got a chance to finish our conversation.

I decided later that night that I would wait a little longer to mention it to Monica. Some of the things Roy said worried me. And there was one thing I hadn’t thought of: what if Monica wasn’t ready yet for that much of a commitment, and I scared her away? I realized then that I didn’t want to take that chance. After all, I had plenty of time on my side. What was the big hurry?

I called my dad one more time today, but he was still gone. I guess he doesn’t care about me. No one does. Why should I?

I’ve made my decision. This is my last day. I decided I should leave a note and explain things.

It didn’t take that long to write it; the words just sort of poured out onto the paper. I’m not blaming anyone. Everything that’s happened to me has been my fault.

I apologize to anyone who might be a casualty of what I’m about to do. I don’t want anyone to get hurt, but I’m going to do what I have to do. I apologize to whoever finds me, or my body. That won’t be pleasant, I’m sure.

I folded the note and left it on my coffee table in front of my sofa. I took one last look around, then left, not even locking the door.

I wish I had noticed when I slammed the door that the gush of air had pushed my note off the table and under the sofa. 

Man, the weather’s really crummy tonight. Dark and rainy. Perfect for staying inside and cuddling up beside Monica with a glass of wine and some music. So that’s where I’m off to spend my evening. She invited me over for dinner. I smile to myself, thinking about the dessert.

And not the kind you eat.

I should be there in about ten minutes.

The roads are practically deserted, which is good. No sense in too many fools like me being out on the roads when it’s raining this hard. Jeez. I can barely see.

Elvis is on the radio. I like Elvis. It just adds to my good mood. I can’t wait to get there. I’m really looking forward to this evening.

I’ve been out in this rain all afternoon and I’m soaking wet. That doesn’t really matter.

I took the bus where I wanted to go. I decided at first that I would jump from a building. I tried two different ones and I wasn’t able to get up on the roof of either one. So I headed for the bridge. Lots of people jumped there; usually they didn’t survive.

I walked there; it was several miles. It gave me time to think, to make sure this was what I really wanted. I decided it was. I was anxious to see Mother again.

I got to the bridge and several people honked at me for getting in their way. Don’t worry; I won’t be in your way any more soon. It was getting dark now. I inched my way out onto the edge and looked down into the water. It was rough and scary looking. I was terrified. I forgot how afraid I was of heights. Just jump, I told myself, and it’ll all be over.

I don’t know how long I stood there. My life sort of flashed before my eyes as I thought, and I thought that was supposed to happen when death was only seconds away. It could be. But it could also be minutes away, or hours.

I kept thinking. Looking down at the water was making me dizzy. Then it occurred to me that I might not die when I hit the water. I might sink down under and drown instead. The thought of water filling up my lungs and dying a slow death like that really upset me. I didn’t want that. I’ve always been afraid of water; I don’t know why I thought I could do this. Oh, this is so frustrating! I can’t bring myself to jump. I can’t do anything right; not even kill myself.

Somebody sees me; they’re slowing down their car. “Hey!” They yell at me and I startle, almost losing my balance.

“Are you okay?” They ask.

This is not what I need. I don’t want an audience. Or worse yet, they’ll call the cops and arrest me, and put me in the looney bin.

“I’m fine!” I yell. “Just go on!”

“Do you need help?” They persisted.

“No! Just leave me alone!”

They drove on, but I was worried they’d go and call the police.

Finally, I decided this wasn’t going to work and I climbed back over the barrier. Damn! Why can’t people just mind their own business?

I started walking.

I walked and walked for a long time. It was completely dark now and I was shivering with cold. I was so tired. I wanted everything to just be over.

No one was around; the road was pretty deserted as I walked along the side of it. My spirits had never been lower than they were right then. I couldn’t bear going back to my apartment, going back to the life I didn’t have. But I’d failed again. I couldn’t even kill myself right.

I started crying, feeling desperate, not knowing what to do. I heard something and turned. A car was coming. As it got closer, I could tell it wasn’t a car exactly, but something heavier, more like a small truck maybe. Suddenly, adrenalin shot through me and my breath caught in my throat as the idea occurred to me. I’m not going home tonight. Not ever.

I stopped walking and watched, standing next to a small tree. My heart was pounding. It was time. There was no turning back. I jumped!

I briefly saw his eyes; they looked vaguely familiar, and terrified. Tires screeched. I closed my eyes. 

I wasn’t thinking about anything in particular, just getting to Monica’s. I was relaxed and in a good mood, despite the pouring rain.

The song on the radio ended and the DJ came on. I hate listening to the DJ; they’re obnoxious. And they always talk over the end of the song. His voice was loud and distracting, and the rain was really pounding against the windshield.

I glanced down and reached over to reduce the volume.

When I looked up, something, or someone, was directly in front of my car.

Panic exploded in my mind and body, and I reacted without thinking, my foot lifting on its own accord and jamming the brake pedal to the floor. Horrified, I heard the thump and felt the impact before the tires even began to screech. I cringed as a body flipped over the hood and smashed into the windshield; blossoming red as it cracked into a spider web. Then, as my car hydroplaned over the wet pavement, it started spinning.

I fought with the steering wheel as I did a three-sixty and a half, then with a bone-jarring jolt, the backside of my Rover jumped the curb and slammed sideways into a telephone pole. The whole thing happened in less than ten seconds, but it felt like forever.

Except for the patter of rain against metal, everything was quiet. The car’s engine had died. The lights were out and the radio was dead. All I was cognizant of was my own choked gasping as I tried to breathe, the shock of what happened inhibiting the flow of oxygen to my lungs.

I’d slid halfway off the driver’s seat and was sitting cockeyed; the gearshift was jammed into my side and the seatbelt cut into my hip. Slowly, I tried to straighten myself. I was shaking so badly I couldn’t even grasp the steering wheel.

I felt dizzy and something wet was sliding down the bridge of my nose.

My gaze drifted upward and I saw red liquid mixing with the rain running down the windshield. My stomach surged and I thought I was going to be sick as the comprehension of what I’d done hit me.

Paralyzed, I sat there in disbelief.

Normally I could react immediately in emergency situations like this, but tonight I couldn’t move. I could barely get my breath. I’d seen my share of people hyperventilating after an accident and now I was one of them.

I hit someone. Oh my God, I hit someone!

I knew I needed to get out of the car. To see what I’d done. To try to help the poor victim I’d just run over.

Like an old man, I reached for the door handle. I pulled; it wouldn’t open. I was panting like a dog and my throat was dry. So dry.

Light flooded the car. I looked over and the sight I saw nearly made me black out. Another vehicle was speeding straight toward me. And the front half of my Rover was stuck out in the road, in darkness.

I was a sitting duck.

Headlights glancing off the wet pavement blinded me. I knew then that I was going to die.

Before I could contemplate further, I heard tires screeching, then felt an incredible force smash into my car.

With a loud ‘BAM’, my head impacted very hard against something. The sound of shattering glass was deafening.

My neck snapped back at an awkward angle, and as the metal twisted and groaned around me, I felt myself falling sideways.

It’s quiet again. I don’t know how much time has gone by.

Slowly I spin. I feel heavy.

Leaden.

Swollen.

There’s a high-pitched whine in the air like when the TV stations sign off for the night. Colors – red, black, gray, sparkle around me.

Wailing sirens filter weakly through this thickness, then fade.

My hands are tingling; my body’s pulsing.

I move my lips but I can’t hear my voice. The ringing I hear overrides everything. I wish someone would turn off the television. 

Movement.

Pulling. Pushing.

Dizziness.

Then voices.

Pain crystallizes razor sharp.

I hear a weak moan somewhere in the distance.

The colors fade into blackness. The ringing finally stops.

I was just kissing Jennifer good-night when I heard the phone ringing. A few seconds later, my wife Joanne’s silhouette appeared in the doorway to my daughter’s room.

“Dixie McCall’s on the phone for you,” she said softly.

Puzzled, I looked at her, patted Jennifer’s knee, and got up. “Did she say what she wanted?” I asked as I passed her in the doorway.

Joanne just shrugged and shook her head.

Strange, I thought as I walked to the phone, wondering what in the world Dixie would be calling me for this late in the day. It wasn’t every day that Rampart’s head ER nurse contacted me at home. It could be a million different things, although one scenario in particular gave me an uneasy feeling. It must be something else; I was sure.

Her voice was tight the minute she spoke, and I felt this unexplainable dread creep up my spine.

“Roy, I’m sorry to bother you so late,” she said. “Johnny’s…been in an auto accident. I think you should come down here.”

My throat suddenly closed up. For her to call me at home like this I knew it had to be bad. A million questions flew through my mind but at that moment I found it hard to get words out of my mouth. “How…how serious is it, Dix?”

She hesitated a moment, which only made that dread grow colder.

“There’s some broken bones, and…” she hesitated a fraction of a second, “…a skull fracture. We don’t know how serious it is yet.”

I closed my eyes.

“Why don’t you just come on down and Kel will tell you the rest. Okay?” Her voice was guarded, but sympathetic.

The rest? What rest? I didn’t think I wanted to know.

Those two words put together, ‘skull’ and ‘fracture’ had enough impact to last me the drive there.

Dazed, I hung up, quickly told Joanne what had happened, then left. Joanne looked scared and hugged me extra hard, told me to be careful. It was a bad night. My inclination was to drive like a bat out of hell, but I heeded my wife’s words and drove carefully. I certainly didn’t want to suffer the same fate as Johnny.

My mind filled with questions and scenarios as I drove. How bad is the skull fracture? And the broken bones? What did Dixie leave out? Is he going to be all right? Will he need surgery? 

Surgery. Groaning inwardly, I hoped not. Johnny just went through surgery about a year ago when someone ran him over with a car. It took him months to completely get over the aftereffects of that accident. I knew he still had pain from it from time to time, though he never complained about it openly. I could tell by the stiff way he walked sometimes that the tib-fib fracture he’d sustained still wreaked havoc, especially on the colder and rainier days. That, and he got sick more often than he ever used to. The accident had caused internal damage, and they’d had to take his spleen out, which made him more susceptible to illnesses. I wondered if that might hinder his recovery this time. Recovery. Would he recover?

I wondered where the accident happened. Whose fault was it? How bad was the damage to Johnny’s beloved Rover? And most importantly, was anyone else injured? For Johnny’s sake, I prayed not because I knew, no matter whose fault it was, he’d feel awful.

I finally made it to Rampart, ran in through the ER entrance I was so accustomed to using. Dixie wasn’t at her desk. I could tell it was a busy night by the hustle and bustle going on in the halls. I saw Mike Morton coming out of one of the treatment rooms in a hurry and I called to him, asking him if he knew where Johnny was.

“Gage?” he answered in surprise. “I didn’t even know he was here. What’s he got himself into now?” Even then, he was hurrying away. “Sorry, I can’t help you,” he called. “I’ve got to get to the lab. It’s crazy in here tonight!” And he was off.

Frustrated, I decided to poke my head in one of the rooms to find him. I opened the door to treatment two; he wasn’t there. I was just about to check room four when a civilian grabbed me by the arm and said, “Hey, you’re not allowed in there. Why don’t you just wait out here like everyone else?”

Angry, I jerked my arm away. Not being in uniform, I guess he thought I was overstepping my bounds, but I didn’t really care what he thought. Tensions were high for everyone there; me included. I was just getting ready to tell him to mind his own damn business when I saw Dixie come out of treatment five.

She saw me and motioned me over. I left the guy standing there and jogged over to her. She pushed the door open for me.

Suddenly everything felt surreal. There was Johnny, lying on the table in front of me, limp and seemingly unaware.

As many accident victims as I’ve seen, and I’ve seen a lot of them, I’ve never really gotten used to seeing people after they’ve been in a bad car crash. You build up your resistance to getting sick or being too revolted and learn to detach yourself as much as possible in order to treat the victim. You try not to look at all the blood and not analyze what it might mean to the person’s chances of survival. Otherwise, it’d just make you dysfunctional. But when it’s someone you know, a close friend, it’s another whole ball game. Seeing your best friend one day in their normal vivacious, smiling state, then the next lying bloodied and unconscious on a table, well, it shocks you. Seeing him like this scared me.

It gave me an appreciation for how Johnny must have felt when his friend, Drew, died in an accident several years ago. Johnny had remained cool and collected all during Drew’s treatment at the accident site, which I give him a lot of credit for. It couldn’t have been easy. Later at the hospital I could tell it really unraveled him. Dealing with that weighed heavily on him for a long time.

Yet this wasn’t my first time with Johnny. I’d had my share of incidents with him in the ER under other circumstances, be it poisonous snakebites, viruses, or broken bones. I don’t know why this time seemed so much different. Maybe it was because we weren’t on the job when it happened and I wasn’t there. Maybe it was all the blood. It seemed to be everywhere.

I walked over to the exam table, making sure I didn’t get in anybody’s way, and got a close up view of my partner. My stomach clenched when I got a good look at his face. Half of it was scraped raw, like road rash, although experience told me it was from impacting with glass. He had a huge contusion above his left ear near his hairline, which was surrounded with ugly purple bruising. They hadn’t really had a chance to clean him up any, and blood from his face and head wounds had soaked his hair and smeared all over the C-collar. It had seeped underneath it and run down his shoulder and chest, drying there.

Dr. Brackett looked up at me. He didn’t look happy. “Hi, Roy,” he said somberly.

“How is he?” was all I could get out of my mouth.

He put his stethoscope back into his ears. “Just give me another minute here, Roy, and we’ll talk.”

“Okay,” I said, swallowing.

I watched as Dr. Brackett listened to Johnny’s chest. It was then that I noticed his shoulder and arm, which had been immobilized against his body. Ice bags were fitted snugly around his bruised left shoulder and arm. The shoulder looked like it might be dislocated. His upper arm had swollen to twice its normal size. Other than that, I didn’t really see anything else, other than a lot of other bruises and some cuts, although I knew there might be other things hidden under the sheet.

Brackett motioned me over to a panel of light boxes on the wall. Films of Johnny’s skull, arm and shoulder decorated it.

“If you’ll look right there, Roy,” he pointed to a spot on the skull x-ray, “you’ll see a linear skull fracture.”

There they were again, those two awful words having the same effect on my stomach as they had the first time. Squinting, I thought I saw a faint dark line where he was pointing. I turned to look at him, trying to ascertain from his demeanor how bad it might be. Skull fractures were nothing to mess around with. “How serious is it, Doc?”

He sighed and crossed his arms. “Well, it could be a lot worse. The good thing is that it’s a simple fracture. There doesn’t appear to be any splintering, depression, or distortion there. Barring any other complications, he should recover from it fine.”

I relaxed minutely. I had a pretty idea of what some of those complications could be but I wanted to know anyway. “What kind of complications are you concerned about?”

“Bleeding mainly, Roy. Occasionally, even a simple linear fracture can tear an underlying blood vessel or cause a CSF leak. Or, blood clots can form under the skull forming a subdural or epidural hematoma. We’ll be monitoring him closely through the night for any signs of those things happening. With any luck, we won’t have to worry about it.”

I just nodded, feeling a little numb, and listened as he continued.

“You may have noticed the swelling and bruising in his arm and shoulder area.”

May have? Yeah, it was pretty hard to miss. I nodded.

“Johnny broke his humerus and clavicle.”

Again, Dr. Brackett pointed to another x-ray.

“So how bad are those?” I asked.

“The clavicle’s a clean break. The humerus fracture looks stable. Both are to Johnny’s advantage.” He crossed his arms and rubbed at his chin, narrowing his eyes a bit. “There’s two ways to go with the humerus break; we can go in surgically and pin and plate it, or we can keep it immobile and let it heal on its own. I’m going to recommend taking the second route Roy, not only because I think it will heal better, but I’d rather not be putting Johnny under the stress of anesthesia and surgery with that head injury. We’ll get a cast on Johnny’s upper arm and immobilize that whole area as soon as the swelling goes down.”

The doctor exhibited one of his famous grimaces. That was followed by, “Unfortunately, a fracture to the humerus is a very painful injury, and sometimes can be quite slow to heal. It’s possible that Johnny could be laid up for quite some time.”

“How long do you think it will be?” I know it shouldn’t have even crossed my mind, but the thought of working with Brice again so soon made me cringe. I didn’t know if I could take it a second time. Then I wanted to kick myself. Working with Brice was nothing compared to what Johnny was going to have to endure.

He shook his head. “There’s no telling, Roy. Twelve weeks minimum, I’d say.”

I blew out my breath, still in disbelief that this had happened – again – to Johnny. I glanced back over to the table where my partner lay. I saw his hand move slightly. “Dr. Brackett, is Johnny unconscious, or sedated?” I figured he was unconscious; it was very unlikely that he’d have been given a sedative with his head injury.

Another grimace. “He’s been unconscious since the paramedics first got to the scene. He’s suffered a severe concussion. We’ve been trying to rouse him; he’s been stuporous a few times, at best.”

Oh boy. I felt my stomach tighten again. This was serious. Any number of those complications could arise that I didn’t want to think about.

“How long has he been here?”

Dr. Brackett looked at his watch. “It’s been about three hours now.”

“Three hours?!”

Brackett caught the reason for my incredulity. “Roy, I’m sorry we didn’t call you sooner. We just didn’t have a chance. We’ve had one case after another tonight, and we’ve all been stretched to the limit.”

I waved my hand, sorry for my rather harsh reaction. “Don’t worry about it,” I said.

It bothered me a lot that Johnny was still unconscious. My head snapped around when I heard a soft groan coming from Johnny’s direction.

Brackett heard it too, and headed over to the exam table. The doctor leaned over Johnny and spoke firmly to him. “Johnny? It’s Dr. Brackett. Can you hear me?”

All he got was a barely audible groan. He reached down and pinched the back of Johnny’s right arm. That elicited a little stronger response and Johnny mumbled something. But he didn’t open his eyes.

“Roy, why don’t you try? Maybe hearing the voice of a close friend will do the trick.”

“Okay.” I leaned in close, trying not to let the close up view of the damage get to me. His left eye was swollen shut and turning black too. “Johnny? It’s Roy. Now listen, you need to wake up.”

That accomplished nothing, so I tried again.

“C’mon, John. Talk to me. You need to wake up. Right now.” My voice got firmer as I grew more disconcerted that he wasn’t waking. “Do you hear me? It’s Roy.”

“…I…uhh…”

It was barely audible, but I felt encouraged.

“Keep trying, Roy,” Brackett prodded.

“Johnny? I want you to wake up. Dr. Brackett wants to talk to you. Now. C’mon. It’s okay.”

Again, all I got was, “…ah…auhh…”

Then a barely audible, “Som….please…turoff…televisio…”

Then, nothing. He seemed to slide under again.

Dr. Brackett’s eyes met mine with confusion. “What did he say, Roy?”

“Uh, it sounded like he said he wanted someone to turn off the television.”

Brackett straightened, sighing. He looked intently at Johnny for a moment.

We both looked up when Dixie entered. She walked straight over to me. The serious expression on her face seemed to have grown more somber.

“Roy, Vince Howard is here and he’d like to talk with you for a moment.” She looked meaningfully at Dr. Brackett. “Kel, can they talk in your office?”

There was something in her eyes that frightened me. Her expression conveyed more than just the concern she held for Johnny, but I couldn’t say what it was.

“Sure, Dix,” was Brackett’s reply. Brackett seemed to have the same look in his eyes, a guarded hesitancy mixed with…I don’t know, sadness, I guess.

I looked down at Johnny, hesitant to leave just when he seemed on the verge of gaining consciousness. Dixie was staring at me, wordlessly beckoning me. I got the feeling I’d better go. Suddenly I was anxious to talk to Vince. I needed to know, for my partner’s sake, about this accident.

Dixie put her hand on my arm. “C’mon, Roy.”

Reluctantly, I walked away and out of the room, Dixie beside me. I saw Vince Howard down the hall. He was getting a drink from the fountain.

A second later I felt someone’s hand quickly squeeze my arm, and I turned to see Don Henderson from Station 16 standing next to me. His eyes held worry and remorse.

“How’s Johnny?” he asked. “We brought him in,” he explained.

“Oh. Thanks Don,” I said. I was glad to know a good and seasoned paramedic had at least been on the scene to help Johnny. Don was in the first paramedic class with me. “Uh, Don, how was Johnny at the scene?” I wanted to know.

Don shook his head, his mouth drawn into a tight thin line. “Not good. He was barely conscious when we got there. We couldn’t get any response. What’s his prognosis now?”

Briefly, I explained, which drew a pained look from Don.

“I’m amazed he didn’t have a chest full of broken ribs,” he said. “After seeing his truck…” he cringed, then his face grew sympathetic. “Roy, does he know yet?”

I just stared at him, dumbfounded, as alarm bells began clanging in my head that I tried to ignore. “Know? Know…what, Don?” Out of my peripheral vision I saw Dixie throw him a slight shake of her head, then she pulled me away. Don waved, leaving with a regretful expression.

“C’mon, Roy. Vince will explain it to you.”

Suddenly I felt fear building, afraid to hear what Vince was going to say. I stopped, turning to Dixie. “Know what, Dixie? What’s Don talking about?” I could hear my voice growing alarmed.

Dixie glanced down the hall toward Vince, then back at me. She appeared to be weighing what to say to me. Finally, she told me. “Roy, there was a fatality in the accident.”

My eyes grew wide and I thought my heart was gonna stop. “What?” I whispered.

She stared hard at me for a long moment, and I saw a deep sorrow in her eyes. “A young woman…died.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “No.” The affirmation in her eyes frightened me. “Are you…are you saying…Johnny’s at fault?”

Once again, she took my arm and tried to lead me down the hall. She licked her lips. “Roy, I really don’t know all the details. Let’s go talk to Vince.”

Vince was watching us now and took a couple steps in our direction. We said our hellos, then Dixie led us into Dr. Brackett’s office, and then she stepped out.

As usual, Vince was all business, yet his attempt at stoicism couldn’t hide his obvious discomfort. “Roy, you want to sit down?” he asked me.

“No.” I couldn’t stand it any more; I had to know what happened. Yet I didn’t want to. The words came out of my mouth almost by themselves. “Vince, Dixie told me a young woman died in the accident with Johnny.” Then all of a sudden, if that was possible, I thought of something even more horrible. I wondered if that young woman was Monica, Gage’s girlfriend. What if she’d been riding in the passenger seat…as badly as Johnny was injured, could she have been the fatality? I remembered Johnny said he was going to see her tonight. Oh no.

Stiffly, Vince sat down on the edge of Brackett’s desk. “Roy, why don’t you sit down?”

“No thanks,” I said. Was Vince stalling?

Just then Kel Brackett walked in. He looked at me tentatively, obviously unsure of how much of the conversation had taken place. He walked around behind his desk and sat down.

Then Vince told me.

How the young woman who died wasn’t in the car with Johnny, but that it appeared that he had actually hit her with his car. My blood instantly began thudding in my ears as I tried to absorb this information.

He explained that they were still gathering information, but that the witness driving the other car had described how Johnny’s vehicle had been situated in a stalled position out in the middle of the lane after it had apparently crashed into a telephone pole, and that, with the poor visibility tonight, he hadn’t seen it until the last minute and had consequently crashed into it. Vince had already interviewed the driver of the car that had hit Gage at the scene.

“How the hell do you know Johnny was the one who hit her?” I asked, now angry. I couldn’t believe they were accusing Johnny of running down a pedestrian. “How do you know it wasn’t the other driver?”

Vince looked at me somberly and I could tell by his face he felt pretty sure of his facts. “We’re still putting the pieces together, Roy. Right now, we’ve got a team out there analyzing the road and gathering evidence. But it was pretty clear by the looks of the front of Gage’s truck that his was the offending vehicle.”

“What evidence?” I asked hesitantly, desperately wanting to hear something that I could punch holes in.

Vince hesitated. I got the feeling that had I been anyone else he wouldn’t have revealed anything. “There was an indentation in the front of John’s car. It matched the size of the girl’s body. I’ve seen enough of these to know, Roy. There was also blood on the hood and windshield of Gage’s car.

Oh my god. This can’t be happening. I paced across the room, staring at the wall. “How Vince? How could Johnny have done this? I don’t buy it. He’s a careful driver.” I turned to look at him. “Was she in a crosswalk?”

“There were no crosswalks there, Roy. But there was a sidewalk. Roy, John’s car was found up over the curb.”

This was a nightmare. I didn’t know what to say. How could this be explained? I kept trying. “Could she have been crossing the street for some reason and Johnny not seen her? It was a rainy night, and dark.”
            “That’s always a possibility, Roy. But it seems unlikely. There wouldn’t have been anything on the other side of the road for her to go to. It’s just wooded area on that stretch of the road.”

I walked over now and sank down into one of the chairs; my head was spinning. Another terrible thought crossed my mind. “Was the driver of the other car hurt?”

Brackett answered that question. “His knee was injured. Broken kneecap I believe Mike said. But he should recover fine.”

Oh man. It was awful enough that someone had died. Now, on top of that, someone else had been injured. How in the world was Johnny going to handle all this?

Brackett was looking at Vince when he spoke next. “I should also say that the toxicology report came out negative, Roy. There was no trace of any alcohol or other substances in his blood. At least Johnny’s got that in his favor.”

“Of course he didn’t,” I growled. “Doc, you know Johnny well enough to know he’d never drink and drive, or use drugs for that matter.”

“You’re right; I do Roy. And you know it was standard procedure to test for those things.”

Vince spoke again. “Roy. We all know what kind of guy John is. We’re all baffled as to how this could happen. It’s not pleasant for any of us. We want to get to the bottom of this as much as you do. I think a lot of this can be cleared up by Gage once we talk to him.”

I looked at Vince in alarm. “He’s not in any condition…”

“I know Roy. But we’d like to talk to him as soon as he regains consciousness.”

Before I could protest, Brackett broke in. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to intervene here. No one’s going to talk to Johnny about any of this until he’s stable enough to handle it. Right now he’s got a serious head injury to deal with and other acute injuries. I don’t want anyone talking to him about this until I say so.”

Vince nodded. “But the sooner we talk to him the sooner we can get this straightened out. The girl’s family is going to demand details.”

“I understand. But it’s not going to help anyone if questioning Johnny causes his condition to worsen. And I won’t have that.”

Vince nodded and raised himself off Brackett’s desk. “Well, I’ve got to be getting back to work. Dr. Brackett, you’ll contact us as soon as Gage is able?”

“I will.”

“Roy. Man, I’m sorry about all this. You tell Johnny we’re all pulling for him, okay?”

“I will,” I said. “Thanks, Vince.”

My policeman friend turned and left, leaving me and the doctor alone. Brackett leaned back in his chair and sighed.

I leaned forward, elbows on knees, rubbing at my temples, behind which a headache was brewing. I felt overwhelmed. “Doc, how is Johnny ever going to cope with this? It’s too much…I don’t think I could if it were me.”

Brackett’s mouth twitched. “I don’t know, Roy. I don’t have the answer to that. I’d say he’s going to need the support of his friends to help him get through it. Just dealing with the injuries is going to be a challenge for a while. It’s not going to be easy.”

I knew Brackett knew only too well what guilt could do to a person. It hadn’t been all that long ago that he himself had been in an auto accident where a man in the other vehicle had died, leaving a young daughter alone. Even though it hadn’t been his fault, it had tortured him for days. If what Vince said was true and it really was Johnny’s fault…I felt absolutely sick inside for my friend. This, I knew, could very well ruin his life.

Dr. Brackett stood up. “C’mon Roy. Let’s go back and check on our friend. Maybe we can get him awake.”

I pulled myself out of the chair and followed him, feeling pretty desolate.

The headache I woke up with was blinding. Literally. It was so bad I had trouble seeing. At least out of the one eye I could open. The other one didn’t seem to be functioning.

The first thing I saw was a fuzzy Dr. Brackett leaning over me. He’d literally pinched me awake. That, and his relentless insistence woke me up. Who could sleep through that? I think I glimpsed Roy there too, standing on my other side. When his head moved and the overhead light hit my face it felt like someone had shoved a dull knife into my eye socket. When I closed it they both kept insisting I open it again. Jeez, couldn’t they tell I really wasn’t up for that?

Then came the questions.

‘Do you know who you are?’

Yes, of course I knew who I was, didn’t they? I tried answering but my mouth wasn’t working too well. My tongue felt too thick to move. The TV was back on again and I couldn’t hear well over that high-pitched noise. I think I answered, ‘John,’ but it could have just as easily come out as ‘uhnn’. I don’t know. That wasn’t good enough for ‘em. They had to know my last name too. I have no idea if I answered correctly.

My head felt like it was going to explode. I tried to move my arm to get my hand up there to rub it. Bad idea. Someone took a machete and skewered it through my shoulder and into my arm. The inch I moved it took my breath away. There was a flurry of conversation I couldn’t make out, then came more questions.

‘Do you know where you are?’ and,

‘Do you remember what happened?’ which not only couldn’t I answer but I didn’t care. The other stuff was too consuming.

It brought tears to my eyes. I tried to gut it out for a while, especially since Brackett and Roy were there. I hate being a wimp. But after a while I couldn’t stand it any more. I had to have something. Just when I was getting ready to ask Brackett, he asked another question.

‘Johnny, do you need something for pain?’

Bingo. The guy must be psychic, I decided. I peeled my right eye open again and hoped it looked desperate enough to answer that question ‘cause my tongue still wasn’t operating. I guess he could tell how bad I was hurting because shortly after that I was floating. Numbness took over quickly. It’s a good thing he figured it out; I’m not sure I could have verbalized anything at that point.

When we got back into the ER, Johnny was starting to come around. It was a relief to see him open his eye (the one that he could open), but it was also awful to see him in so much pain. The minute he’d opened that eye and showed a trace of coherency his face scrunched up into a grimace.

Brackett thought he might be lucid enough to answer a few questions, but his answers were almost undecipherable. When the Doc asked if he knew where he was or what happened, he just closed his eye. I wonder if he remembered the accident.

By this time Brackett felt confident that it was safe to give Johnny something for pain without affecting the head injury, so he did. After that all Johnny did was groan a lot until he finally drifted off again.

I was tired, and it was late. I wanted to call Joanne and tell her what was going on, but I didn’t want the phone to wake up the kids. There were other calls I knew I should make, one was to Monica, Johnny’s girlfriend. The problem was, I didn’t know her number. I knew she worked at the library but it was closed. I did know her last name, Peters, and the street she lived on. So I took a chance on the phone book. I got lucky. She was in there.

It’s a good thing I called her because she’d been worried sick. Johnny was supposed to come for dinner tonight and of course, he never showed. He must have been on his way to her place when the accident occurred. She’d tried calling the station, but no one on B shift had any idea what had happened.

She wanted to come to the hospital right now, but I talked her out of it. There was no way Brackett was going to let her in to see him tonight, so her coming down here would be for nothing. She lamented that she had to be at work in the morning, and that it was too late to call off, so I suggested she stop over on her lunch break. I said that by then Johnny would be settled in a hospital room and maybe even feeling a little better. I didn’t really believe that, but she was so worried I thought it would at least make her feel better. I could tell she didn’t really like that idea, but she really didn’t have much choice.

Telling her about the accident wasn’t pleasant, but I needed to tell her not to mention anything about the fatality to Johnny, at least not until we were sure of the details and what he remembered. She agreed, and even expressed disbelief that it could have been Johnny’s fault. We were both on the same wavelength there. I’d only met her once, but she seemed like a really nice girl, and genuinely concerned about Johnny. I was glad then that he had her. He was going to need everyone he could get to stand by him and support him through this tragedy.

Next I called the Cap. Obviously Johnny wouldn’t be at work tomorrow and a replacement was needed. He was shocked, of course, and worried too. Mostly, like me, he wondered how Johnny would cope with it. I was going to ask him if he could try to find a replacement for me as well, since I thought it was important for me to be there for John tomorrow. But before I could ask, he suggested it himself. Told me not to worry, that he would take care of it. He also said he would fill in the other men. He’s a great guy, a real caring captain. It was a relief that I wouldn’t have to worry about working tomorrow.

I checked in on Johnny again after that. He was still out of it, still in the ER. Both Dixie and Brackett convinced me I needed to leave; they said that John would be in the ER for several more hours under observation, and then would probably be admitted into a room. Brackett said Johnny wouldn’t know I was there anyway if I stayed.

But I would know.

I also knew that tomorrow might be a very long day, so their advice to go home and get some sleep was probably a good idea. Reluctantly, I left, somewhat comforted that his condition was stable and would hopefully stay that way during the night.

I didn’t get any sleep for tossing and turning. All I could think about was the accident, still in disbelief about it. I think I managed to drift off somewhere around three o’clock, but I was awake again at six. What a hell of a thing to happen.

The guy operating the jackhammer in my head woke me up.

Blinking, I looked around, trying to focus. My eyes felt crusty and everything looked a little hazy. Wherever I was, it was light in the room. It didn’t take me long to figure out I was at Rampart, and that once again, I’d had some sort of terrible accident.

My God, I hurt everywhere.

I tried to figure it out. When I lifted my head to look down at myself, this agonizing pain knifed right through my head, down my neck, and into my shoulder and arm. Whoa. It took me close to a minute to get my breath back after that.

What in the hell happened to me, I wondered.

Very gingerly, I tried to check myself out. They had the bed at a steep incline, which was really uncomfortable. I aimed to lower it, but first I had to figure out how badly I was damaged.

I decided to start small, and wiggled my toes first. That was no problem, and I relaxed a little, relieved. Slowly, and one at a time, I bent my knees to see if my legs worked. Thank goodness they did, but doing that made my back hurt. Moving my right hand seemed safe, so I went on an exploring expedition and discovered my left arm resting in a sling. I glanced down to survey the damage. My whole upper arm was swollen up like a watermelon and it looked like I had gangrene; it was black and purple from my shoulder down. Yech. I tried lifting it and didn’t get more than a quarter of an inch before my brain sent urgent signals to all the nerve endings in my arm that my humerus was likely broken.

My fingers moved upward, I could feel the break in my collarbone through the swelling. Just touching it made me jump. Oh hell, not that too. I had some sort of brace holding my shoulders in place that went around my back. I think that was one of the things causing me so much pain.

My hand roved to my head. My face didn’t feel right; it was all swollen, my left eye included. It wouldn’t even open. That scared me more than the other stuff. I hoped I hadn’t done something to my eye. I felt around it; there was no bandage. A good sign. There were bandages on other parts of my face though, mostly on the left side.

Then I found the mother of all lumps near my hairline just in front of my left ear. Jesus; it felt huge.

That’s why my head feels like it’s gonna blow up.

Obviously, I hit my head. Hard. Did I fall? Did I have some sort of climbing accident?

I strained to think back over the last twenty-four hours and couldn’t remember any climbs we did. I thought and thought, but just couldn’t remember. I think I must have a concussion…doesn’t that cause memory loss sometimes? I should know that; but things are foggy.

I closed my eye again, blocking out the damn light from the window. The sun was rising and it was streaming into my room.  I wanted to brain the person who’d opened the drapes. I felt horrible and decided I could really use some relief.

I also needed to find out what happened, and if what happened to me involved anyone else. If I was hurt on the job, others could be too. I wondered about Roy especially. Man, I hope he wasn’t hurt. Or none of the guys either. That got me started worrying.

Reaching for the call button almost killed me. Any kind of movement sent blinding pain through me, but I finally got my hand on it and pushed it. About a minute later, a nurse showed up. I didn’t know her but her nametag said ‘Vicki’.

She immediately began taking my vitals while she talked, asking me how I was feeling. Nurses always do that, take your pulse and stuff every time they come into the room, no matter why they’re there.

So I asked her. “Wh…what happened?” I could barely hear my own voice. My ears were still ringing.

She looked down at me kinda sympathetically. “I’ll page Dr. Brackett. He’ll be up to talk to you about your injuries, all right?”

“No. What happened…to me? Wh…why’m I here?” There. She should understand that.

She seemed to hesitate, then said, “You were in an automobile accident.”

I raised my eyebrows in surprise. Oh man! Bad idea. My head almost split open. “Uh, a car accident? Are…are you sure?” I asked, working hard to keep my face as still as possible.

“Yes, I’m sure. They brought you in around six-thirty last night.”

Last night? Now I was confused. And more worried. A car accident? Shit! Was the squad involved? I needed more information. Alarmed, I jolted forward, intending to get out of bed. That was a huge mistake. I think my yell scared Vicki. I almost blacked out. Little white stars floated in my vision for several long seconds before they cleared away.

Vicki did the best she could to make me comfortable, and then she left, saying she was going to page the doctor. I lay there trying to get my breath again, promising myself that I wasn’t going to move any more.

Ever.

And wishing I’d asked her to shut the damn drapes!

What a way to start the morning.

Dr. Brackett finally came in about ten minutes later. Thank goodness; now I could get some answers. My head was still pounding and I still was in considerable pain. But I had to know some details, so I started to ask my questions.

Before he would give me any answers, he checked me out thoroughly. He looked tired, and kinda down. Must have had a rough night.

 I tried again. “Doc, the nurse said I was in a car accident. Can you tell me what happened?”

Instead of answering, he asked, “Johnny, do you remember anything about it?”

Of course I don’t remember anything about it. I wouldn’t be asking you if I did. I guess he was trying to evaluate how bad my memory loss was, but the more he put me off, the more worried I got. I really needed to know. “No. I don’t remember anything. C’mon, Doc, will you please tell me?” I was starting to get frustrated. And tired. I couldn’t believe how much just saying a few sentences exhausted me.

Brackett ran his tongue along the top of his bottom lip and seemed to be wavering on what he would say. That made me more nervous.

“Dr. Brackett…was Roy hurt?”

His brows knitted together in confusion; then realization dawned on his face. “No,” he said, “Roy wasn’t hurt. The accident didn’t happen during work. You were by yourself in your own car, Johnny.”

I closed my eyes in relief. Thank God. That relief only lasted a second before my eye popped back open. “Dr. Brackett…was anyone else hurt?”

He said it too quickly, almost like he had the answer rehearsed. “The man in the other car that hit you injured his knee. He should be all right.” And he stopped there.

I stared at him a minute, trying to figure out why I felt so uncomfortable about his stiff demeanor. Maybe he was just tired. He was probably here all night. The guy’s a workaholic. “He’s gonna be okay?” I needed that reassurance.

“Yes,” Brackett said softly, but he still looked awfully somber. He was looking out the window at something now.

“Is that all?” I asked.

He turned and looked hard at me, as if he was trying to convince himself. “Yes.”

But I’d gotten what I was looking for. Someone hit me. No one else was seriously hurt.

Before I could ask any more questions, he said, “Now let’s talk about you.”

First he did a neuro exam. Then he finally told me how messed up I was.

A skull fracture.

Jeez. That kinda shook me, knowing how hard you have to hit your head to fracture your skull, but he assured me that he thought I would be all right. They were going to keep a close eye on me to make sure no other symptoms arose. What those were I didn’t want to even think about right now. My paramedic brain had that information filed way in the back and I thought it was best not to search for that folder right now. He said my arm was gonna take some time to heal. I was glad my eye wasn’t damaged, other than being swollen shut.

I was bummed about my injuries, but still glad to be alive. All of a sudden it occurred to me I was going to have to go through months of physical therapy again in order to get back to work, and I felt a little overwhelmed. I’d just gone through this a year ago, and it had been hard. My leg still hurt me from time to time and I wondered if my arm would too.

Then I thought about my car. He said I’d had the wreck in my own car. My Rover. It had never been wrecked. I wondered how bad the damage was. I knew I shouldn’t worry; it was just a piece of metal, and what was important was that I was alive and that no one else had been seriously injured. But still, that car was like an old friend to me. We’d had a lot of good times together. I hoped it wasn’t damaged too badly.

My hip was falling asleep, so I tried readjusting again. Guess I didn’t learn my lesson before. Those white stars almost blinded me this time, and this pathetic noise rose out of my mouth that sounded like some old Indian chant. The ringing in my ears suddenly got a lot louder, and when I finally opened my eyes, Brackett was leaning over me looking a little alarmed, calling my name, which I couldn’t hear very clearly. A nurse had somehow entered the room without me noticing, and was standing at his side with a syringe in her hand.

I finally heard him; he was saying he was going to give me something stronger for the pain. Pain wasn’t quite the word for it. Try agony. That was my perception. It wasn’t too long after that that I drifted off.

Part 2