Teens - part2
John Gage groaned. The steady sound of hissing steam filled his ears as he felt the grit from dirt in his mouth and eyes.
Wha. .?
A distant continuous car horn filtered through the hissing.
The smell of burning wires filled his nostrils. He lifted his head in an effort to look around.
Fire. . .?
But unable to pull himself from his groggy state, his head lolled to his left side again as he lost the battle to stay conscious.
~*~*~
The stunned young couple in the car that was rear-ended scrambled out of their vehicle. The man immediately stormed back toward Karen’s car to give her a piece of his mind. His wife stood rooted in shock at the results of the other wreck.
~*~*~
Karen was in the process of clumsily climbing out of her car when the other driver grabbed her by the arm and yanked her to her feet.
“Ow!” She whined.
Laurie was already out and running toward the young man she’d liked so well. She ignored any pain as she dropped to her knees beside his still-motionless bloodied body at the edge of the intersection near a corner of sidewalk.
“You can’t be dead! Please, do something. . .anything!”
~*~*~
Stunned herself, Becky slowly made her way out of the car, then looked at the sight before her. The white jeep-like vehicle off in the distance on its side, smoke trailing up from under the damaged hood made visible by streetlights; the blue car they’d been racing with smashed up, the horn one long continuous beep, a hole in the windshield from where the passenger had been ejected.
~*~*~
The off-duty paramedic in the Land Rover remained unconscious, oblivious to the fire smoldering under his vehicle’s hood and the mayhem outside.
~*~*~
A driver from another car passing by hollered out that he’d call the fire department. He sped off in search of a pay phone.
~*~*~
“Paul!” the angry driver’s wife called out. “Let ‘er go! These people need help!”
Lucy Michael’s husband gave Karen one last disgusted look before he shoved her arm away as he let go. He then turned and ran for the blue car.
~*~*~
Laurie had figured out her new boyfriend wasn’t going to wake up. She got to her feet on shaky legs and stared down at her hands with his blood on them.
“He’s dead!” she heard Paul yell to his wife from beside the young men’s T-Bird.
She looked back at her friends. Karen was leaning against her car, the driver’s side door still open. Becky wore a lost expression on her face as she stared from where she stood near the rear bumper of the Michaels’ vehicle.
“Paul!” Lucy pointed to the Land Rover. “It’s on fire!”
Her husband saw the flames finally peek out from under the damaged hood and took off in a sprint.
It seemed like a movie playing out to Laurie.
~*~*~
Johnny struggled to open his gritty eyes as he again slowly lifted his head. He could barely make out the blurry image of orange and yellow. He'd been a fireman too long not to realize what it was, even in his foggy state.
Fire.
There were flames licking the edges of the crumpled hood through the spider webbed windshield in front of him. He knew he should be doing something, but he was still stuporous from shock; he couldn't remember what.
A trail of blood that ran down the left side of his face went unnoticed.
Suddenly he heard a ‘click’ and he felt himself drop onto his side. Then someone or something grabbed him under the arms from behind. He let out a gasp when a sharp pain coursed through the left side of his body as he was pulled backwards. But the motion stopped and the paramedic grimaced, his breaths short pants. Johnny heard a man’s voice directly behind him.
“I can’t get him out! His foot’s caught!”
He heard the words clear enough, but he couldn’t quite process what they meant.
Someone bumped up against his other side, nudging him as he once again lost the battle to stay conscious. He didn’t feel his right foot being tugged from where it was caught up under the brake pedal.
~*~*~
Becky broke into sobs. John Gage had been right. This was exactly what he’d warned her about and she’d ignored his advice completely. She found herself wishing he wouldn’t be one of the firemen called to the scene. As nice as he seemed to be, she wasn’t ready to hear ‘I told you so’.
Nope, anybody but him.
She looked over and saw Lucy at the back of the white jeep type vehicle that was still on its side. The woman was holding the rear door open.
Becky knew she should go help, but she was afraid the thing would blow up.
~*~*~
“C’mon!” Lucy urged her husband as she leaned inside the rear door. “You’re running out of time!”
Having worked Johnny’s foot free, Paul was having a tough time maneuvering his charge over the camping equipment strewn hap-hazardly inside the vehicle. He knew he had to move carefully so as not to rock the Land Rover too much, but a glance out the windshield at the growing flames reminded him that Lucy was right. The fire was intensifying rapidly.
Squatted down as he pulled Johnny away from the front seat, Paul awkwardly stumbled over a loose sleeping bag and nearly fell backward onto his bottom. He readjusted and got onto his knees, then continued with the rescue as quickly as possible.
Johnny groaned, but didn’t open his eyes.
“Hold on, Mister. We’re almost outta here.”
Once he reached the rear door, Paul quickly scrambled out, still pulling Johnny under the arms in the process. His wife immediately let go of the door once both men were clear and grabbed for Gage’s legs.
“I’m not sure how bad he’s hurt,” Paul informed her. “You sure you can handle his legs?”
She nodded and they ran from the vehicle, Johnny carried somewhat awkwardly between them, away from the impending danger.
~*~*~
Johnny felt like he was on a roller coaster. It was a jarring ride, not only sending jolts of pain coursing through his body, but also making him queasy. He swallowed convulsively in an effort to not vomit.
The motion abruptly stopped and the paramedic suddenly felt himself on a hard surface. His eyes barely open, he squinted up at the two blurry unfamiliar faces peering down at him, somewhat backlit by the streetlights above.
By instinct, he turned toward his right as he vomited up the contents of his stomach. After the second heave, he remained partially on his side, breaths shallow, his eyes closed.
Suddenly he felt himself rolled onto his back and grabbed under the shoulders. He was dragged backward, then eased down again.
“That’s better,” he heard a man say.
Where. . .?
“Don’t worry, we got ya out,” the man added as he leaned over him.
“Ou. . .?” Gage mumbled.
“Uh huh. You’re gonna be okay now.”
Johnny winced at the ache that was now pounding in his head. Pain radiated from within right foot.
~*~*~
Sirens filled the air in the distance as the other car that had come by returned. That man scrambled from his car and was immediately over to the teens.
“Are you girls okay? The fire department should be here. That should be them coming now.”
He then looked around at the carnage left; the blue T-Bird with the blaring horn, the bloodied body in the street in a heap, the flames that now engulfed the hood of the Land Rover.
He didn’t know where to go first.
~*~*~
Still laid out on the sidewalk, away from the vomit, Gage moaned. A wide trail of blood was on the side of his face and had run into his hair in several places, as well as across his face from when he’d gotten sick at his stomach and turned; patches of dirt were on his face, arms, and clothing.
The paramedic attempted to open his eyes further than before, but the grit in them stung against the movement of his eyelids, making it difficult.
He could hear loud sirens mixed in with the still-continuous blaring of a horn. The noises assaulting his ears increased the throbbing in his head.
~*~*~
Now at the scene, the paramedics from Squad 51 quickly grabbed their equipment from their truck, one going to the body in the street, the other to where witnesses were waving him over to a victim laid out on the sidewalk. Engine 8 had arrived just seconds before them. Captain Stone called out orders to two of his men while a siren from an approaching police car and another engine could be heard in the distance.
“Barnes, Taylor. . .get on that car fire with a reel line!”
Tom Dwyer from 51 recognized the burning Land Rover as he ran past it. With added worry, he hurried toward the victim he was certain he knew.
~*~*~
Having confirmed the young man in the street was dead, Dwyer’s partner ran to the T-Bird next, calling out along the way to the girls to stay put until someone could check them over.
The victim inside the car was slumped over the steering wheel. Ignoring the horn for now, the man’s life being more important, the paramedic carefully pulled him back and felt for a carotid in his neck, though he had doubts he’d find one.
He frowned when he discovered his suspicions were correct.
Since he couldn’t do anything for this victim, Jake Kellerman just reached in and turned off the ignition. A fireman from the second engine on scene had joined him and reached under the now partially raised mangled hood to disconnect the horn.
When the newly arrived fireman peered around to see what needed to be done next, Jake gave a shake of his head to let him know they had another code F. The two then continued on to the three young women who were momentarily being assessed by a couple of firemen who’d also just arrived on scene moments before. A police officer was with them as well.
~*~*~
“Johnny!”
Tom squatted beside the semi-conscious paramedic in an instant. He set down the trauma box and biophone.
“He keeps goin’ out on us,” Paul explained.
“Was he thrown from the vehicle?” Dwyer asked as he began to assess Johnny’s injuries.
“No, sir. I pulled him out.”
Tom looked sharply at the rescuer. His gaze then shifted to the still burning vehicle before again settling on Gage.
~*~*~
Captain Stone hadn’t been a captain for very long, and was a friend of Gage’s from paramedic training. He’d recognized the familiar make of vehicle right away, but it wasn’t until after he briefed the other captain on scene that he allowed himself to check on the victim from the Land Rover, a sinking feeling in his gut as he made his way over to where Dwyer was squatted down.
~*~*~
Johnny squinted upward.
“R. . .Roy?”
“No, it’s Tom Dwyer.”
The younger man could feel grit in his mouth. He tried to spit it out, but it was to no avail. He once again grimaced at the pain from the pounding in his head. It had grown steady and intensified even more. He lifted his right hand and brought it up toward his head. But it was gently pushed back down and held in place by his side.
“Just take it easy,” he heard Tom calmly say. “Let me check you over and see what we’re looking at here.”
“ ‘kay.” But after a few seconds, he tried again, only to feel a resistance as his hand was again held in place.
It was obvious to Dwyer that Gage was having trouble comprehending what he was saying. It wasn’t unusual with a head injury.
~*~*~
Stone reported the code I as soon as his suspicions were confirmed. He then asked, “How bad?” as he squatted beside Dwyer.
“He’s been in and out of consciousness, has several lacerations and contusions on his arms and face, tenderness in the left flank, possibly from his seatbelt. His right ankle’s swollen. I’ll need to splint it once I get his shoe off. I’m also gonna need to irrigate his eyes with saline; he’s got a lot of debris in them. We’ll need to patch them after that.”
With deep concern etched in his features, the captain noted the dirt and blood on Johnny’s face. The glow from the street lights above made it eerie.
He looks like hell. . .
~*~*~
Karen was already in the back seat of a patrol car. She’d come out of the accident unscathed due to her relaxed state from the alcohol in her system. The girl sat with her head against the glass of the window, a frown on her face.
~*~*~
Becky stared at the now smoldering vehicle over in the dirt lot. She then shifted her gaze to the unfamiliar paramedic checking over Laurie where she sat on the bumper of Rescue Squad 51, her face frozen in a state of shock.
John Gage was off duty or he would’ve been the one to come to the scene. Maybe for Laurie’s sake, it would’ve been better if he had.
The young woman looked at the blanket covered body in the street, then to the fireman who was with her, trying to assess if she might need a paramedic.
“Why can’t they move his body? Why do they have to leave it there?”
“There has to be an investigation first.” He gently palpated her neck. “Does this hurt at all?”
“No.” She wasn’t sure she could feel any pain if she did have some. Her mind was miles away from that. “They hit that Jeep,” she deadpanned. “They ran into the Jeep.”
He glanced over his shoulder at the Land Rover. “It’s not that simple when an accident involves a fatality.”
“Is he dead?” she asked.
“No, or Dwyer wouldn’t be working on him.”
She nodded slightly and sighed. It was one bit of good news in a night filled with bad.
~*~*~
“Fire. . .gotta get. . .fire out. . .”
Johnny tried to sit up, but Dwyer quickly laid a hand on his chest to stop him.
“It’s okay. They’ve got it taken care of. You don‘t need to worry about it.”
He had gotten Johnny’s vitals as soon as Captain Stone had brought over the drug box, where the bp cuff was kept. Stoney splinted Johnny’s foot and ankle while Dwyer worked on his eyes. The foot was discovered to have swelling as well once Johnny’s shoe was removed to make splinting his ankle easier.
“Just hang in there, Johnny.”
“R. . .Roy,” the injured paramedic groaned before asking, “Is . . .Roy. . .Okay?”
“Roy’s fine. You weren’t in the squad.”
At least Roy’s gonna be fine till he gets word of *this*. . .
Tom glanced at Captain Stone and another fire fighter who’d also come over to help with Gage.
The other fire fighter had just finished relaying Johnny’s vitals to Rampart and repeating the instructions given back over the line by Doctor Bracket, the last bit being to transport as soon as possible.
Since the ambulance was on scene, that would be very soon.
While working on Johnny, it had been brought to Dwyer and Stoney’s attention that Paul and Lucy had been in the accident as well.
Neither had any injuries, but it was a well known fact that often in their type of accident, symptoms of whiplash could appear later. They agreed they’d go to their own doctor later if any such injuries surfaced.
With that settled, the focus remained on Johnny.
~*~*~
“How is she?” Kellerman called out to the fireman with Becky.
“She says nothing hurts, but she was thrown off the back seat.”
“I’ll be there in a minute. Dwyer’s still working a Code I.”
“What’s a code I?” Becky asked.
“It means a fireman was injured on the scene. Look, you sure you aren’t hurt anywhere?”
“No. I mean, yes. . .” She again looked to the Rover. “Did they get burned fighting the fire?”
He took a quick glance over his shoulder. “No, that was an off-duty fireman involved in the accident. No, you aren’t sure or yes you’re hurt?”
“Who?”
She’d fired off the question so rapidly, he pulled back in surprise. She sure was showing more concern for a stranger than her friends.
“Uh. . . we can’t give out that information.”
Becky suddenly felt a sense of dread wash over her.
~*~*~
“Ready?” Tom asked.
Stoney nodded.
The ambulance attendants were standing by with a stretcher. The paramedic and captain carefully lifted their injured friend and colleague onto it. Dwyer tucked Gage’s IV bag up under his right shoulder after he was secured on the stretcher. Tom then trotted alongside as Johnny was wheeled toward the waiting ambulance.
Stoney followed beside them as well, the biophone and drug box in his hands.
Dwyer figured by the time he and Johnny got to Rampart, he’d know in his gut whether or not he should make a middle-of-the-night call to DeSoto.
~*~*~
Johnny groaned as they hurried along the paved surface to the ambulance.
He couldn’t see anything. He could tell something was covering both of his eyes. He wanted to take what ever it was off so he could see what was going on, but his arms were held down by something else.
Straps?
It felt like straps were across his body.
But the paramedic’s confusion remained, thus it didn’t register he was on a stretcher. The only thing he knew for sure was that he was in pain, head to toe, and wondered what in the hell happened.
~*~*~
Becky couldn’t stand it. As hard as she tried to convince herself there was no way that off-duty fireman could be John Gage, her gut feeling told her otherwise. Wouldn’t it just be her luck?
She pushed past and bolted away from Kellerman, who’d just begun to examine her.
“Hey wait!”
She darted toward the stretcher carrying the injured fireman with white bandaging wrapped around to cover his hairline and forehead, another one around over his eyes.
She couldn’t tell even as she got closer. With the bandages and then the oxygen mask covering the victim’s nose and mouth, there weren’t any features to recognize.
Suddenly she felt one of her arms grabbed from behind. It was the paramedic who’d been with her.
“Lemme go!” She cried out as she tried to pull it free.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“I hafta know! I hafta see if it’s Mr. Gage!”
Shock registered on his face. Dwyer and Stoney shot surprised gazes in her direction as well.
It was true. Her gut instinct had been right. Becky suddenly was in a full body tremble. She felt nauseous. She felt empty and scared. The girl stood frozen in place as she wished she could suddenly turn back time.
It wasn’t until the police officer approached and stated that he’d need to question her about a certain marijuana joint he’d found just outside Karen’s car that Becky even could take her gaze off the stretcher as it was lifted and placed in the ambulance.
When he explained Karen had told him it belonged to her, Becky’s shoulder’s sagged. John Gage had been more than right. She looked past the officer as the ambulance pulled away.
What she wouldn’t give to have Gage standing beside her now.
~*~*~
“Can you tell me your name again?” Dwyer questioned as he worked to get Johnny’s vitals again. They were minutes away from Rampart, but the first round of questioning at the scene of the accident hadn’t gone well past Johnny knowing his own name. Tom wanted to see if there’d been any improvement.
“John. . .John Gage.”
“The day?”
Johnny shook his head slightly after a brief pause.
“Do you remember where you were tonight?”
“Bowling alley. . .?”
Well, he had his answer. Even though it was more of a question than reply, things were looking up as far as memory went.
~*~*~
Johnny felt the slight jarring of the stretcher as he was lifted out of the ambulance. That had to mean he was at Rampart.
His mind raced through what it could reason as he was whisked through the corridor of the ER.
The taste of dirt in his mouth, his eyes covered. . ,flames. . images of the unfamiliar faces looking down at him. . .the sound of crunching metal and shattering glass. . .
“In two,” he heard a nurse direct.
Then people bustled around him. He was lifted and moved to another surface. Doctor Kel Brackett barked out orders, Dwyer filled the doctor in on additional information he had while Johnny was tended to.
~*~*~
“Johnny.”
The sound of his name barely filtered through the paramedic’s mind. Had he passed out?
“Johnny,” Brackett repeated, this time more firmly.
He wasn’t sure how long he’d been out, but when he opened one of his eyes, the other not cooperating, he could see light and blurred images around him. However, just opening the one to a slit had taken much effort.
The doctor waved a hand closely in front of Johnny’s face. “Can you see my hand?”
Gage shook his head slightly. “Blurry,” came the weak reply.
Brackett looked at the closed swollen left lid that was bruised considerably. He noted the redness already evident in what little he could see of Gage’s right eye. He pulled his penlight out of his pocket and gently held the lid open to get a better look at the cause of the redness.
Johnny winced at the brightness in his eyes that he couldn’t shut out.
“Sorry, Johnny, I’ll get this over with as quickly as I can.”
The paramedic nodded slightly.
When the doctor was done, he clicked off the penlight and returned it to his shirt pocket under the white coat he wore. He looked at the nurse, a frown on his face, before returning his gaze to Johnny. “I’m going to have an ophthalmologist called in to take a look at your eyes. Carol, you want to get that taken care of?”
“Sure.”
She immediately went over to the phone on the wall across the room.
“I’m going to re-bandage your eyes until the specialist gets here,” he explained to Johnny.
He’d already stitched up the two-inch gash on the paramedic’s head.
Johnny’s now bruised and swollen right foot and ankle that were exposed from under the white sheet that covered him up to his bare chest, his jeans and bloodied shirt having been cut off, were still splinted. X-ray would be in soon to take pictures of those.
Overall, the paramedic was fortunate to have made it out of the accident in the shape he was in. A CT-scan had revealed no bleeding in his brain, despite the obvious concussion. He did have small cuts and bruises here and there as well as discoloration from the seatbelt, the worst where it had been tightly up against the left side of his abdomen.
The pronounced tenderness in Johnny’s left flank was a symptom of an injured kidney. Kel hoped it would prove to be minor. A urine sample was already on its way to the lab to be examined for any signs of blood.
Suddenly the door to the treatment room opened and Dwyer peeked his head inside.
“How is he doing?”
Brackett looked up from where he’d just finished securing the new bandages on Johnny’s eyes. “He’s hanging in there. Still pretty disoriented though.”
“What about his eyes?” Tom asked as he came into the room
“We’ll have to wait and see what the ophthalmologist says.”
“Doctor Mason’s the one on call,” the nurse explained, having joined them again. “He should be here soon.”
“Great. Thanks, Carol.”
Dwyer again eyed Johnny.
“I called Roy. I wasn’t sure if I should, but then I decided, as close of friends as they are, he should know what happened.”
“If I know Roy, we’ll probably be seeing him soon.”
Dwyer nodded. “Sounds like it.”
Tom then recalled someone else he’d need to call when he got a chance; his brother Charlie. Then he could have Charlie notify Chet.
~*~*~
Roy was stunned even though as soon as the phone rang in the middle of the night, he knew it wasn’t going to be good news. Those kind of calls rarely were.
He wondered if the young men that were killed in the accident were drunk. His partner hated the fact people still chose to drink and drive. He’d even tried to think of a way to get them off the streets a couple of years earlier.
Roy drove away from his house, his wife having asked for a phone call later to let her know how Johnny was doing and to be sure Roy arrived at Rampart safely. Normally she wouldn’t have had any doubts on the latter, but after hearing the news about Gage, it changed things for the moment.
~*~*~
Becky sat on the exam table in Treatment Room Three. She’d been brought in for observation due to the fact she’d vomited twice at the scene. But her left shoulder had begun to hurt by the time she’d gotten to Rampart. The doctor treating her had ordered x-rays and now she just had to wait for the results.
She hoped the nurse who’d come in to check on her had her x-rays. But it wasn’t so. She’d just come in to assure it wouldn’t be long before the doctor would be back.
Becky held out her unsteady right hand and watched as it trembled slightly. She’d been able to gain more control over herself after the initial realization that had come at the accident scene. But she was still obviously affected by it all.
She wondered now what room John Gage was in and how he was. The thought of him on the stretcher brought a wave of nausea over her again.
“How could I be so stupid?” she mumbled to herself, thinking back on the choices she’d made since moving in the apartment with her friends.
So far she’d been able to make the situation a little better for herself by refuting what Karen had said and explaining the joint belonged to her instead. But there was no guarantee that would stick. Karen was good at lying. She knew her friend was spending the remainder of the night in jail on drunk driving charges. Karen couldn’t get out of that no matter what she tried.
Laurie, she wasn’t sure. Her friend had been in the ambulance with her. The expression on Laurie’s face and lack of responsiveness haunted her. She’d never seen her friend like that and she wondered if Laurie would end up in a mental ward.
Becky shook her head to clear the images of the dead body in the street. But it was to no avail. It would be a long time before she’d be over that.
If ever.
“Maybe I’m gonna be in the looney bin, too. . .”
The door opened and the young doctor walked in, a large tan envelope in hand.
“I’ve got good news.”
“I could use some,” she said with a frown.
He looked at her hair in the doggy-ear styled pigtails that would likely make her appear to be much younger than nineteen. But the stress and trauma she’d already gone through due to the accident gave her a more aged appearance from her tired eyes and the worry clearly on her face.
He walked over to where there was a screen for viewing x-rays. He pulled the pictures from the envelope and stuck each of the two up in a slot to hold them in place, then flicked on the light behind them.
“Just a very deep bruise on your shoulder. You’re lucky that hit the back of the seat first. Had it been your head, you could’ve broken your neck.”
“Yeah? Well, maybe I should have.”
“Careful, or I may have to order a psychiatric evaluation.”
Which reminded her again, “How’s Laurie? Do you know?”
“Your friend that was brought in with you?”
She nodded. “Yeah.”
“Not so well, I’m afraid. They’re going to keep her here under observation a few days. If she doesn’t come out of the catatonic state she’s in, she’ll probably be moved to a hospital that is better suited for treatment.”
Catatonic. . . She’d heard the word before. It sent chills down her spine.
So she hadn’t been wrong. Laurie could very well end up in a mental hospital.
How many lives had the accident destroyed or ended? The latter word brought her back to another person.
John Gage.
She hoped like hell he was still alive. Kellerman’s words came back to mind.
‘How do you know John Gage?’
Unfortunately she didn’t know him well enough to be privy to his condition.
~*~*~
Dwyer’s partner Kellerman was the next to peek his head into the room.
“We got a run, Tom,” he explained. “Structure fire.”
“Okay.” He patted Johnny on the left shoulder. “We’ll be back later to see how you’re doing.”
“’kay,” Johnny mumbled in return.
“See you hose jockeys later,” Brackett said as the paramedics left.
It wasn’t long before he and the two nurses had to leave the room as well, so x-ray could do their job.
~*~*~
Roy barely waited for the automatic doors to open before he entered the emergency ward at Rampart. The squad wasn’t parked outside, so he’d obviously missed Dwyer.
When he came around the corner into the main corridor, he saw the door to Three open and a familiar young lady with her left arm in a sling emerged.
Becky?
Her gaze shot to him and she immediately carried a look of guilt on her face.
“Is he okay?” She asked.
A range of emotions ran through Roy as he realized the girls Dwyer mentioned that were involved in the accident must’ve been Becky and her friends. If he had to guess, they were likely at least part of the cause of the accident.
He wanted to get the full story from her, find out exactly what did happen; if his hunch was correct, he also wanted to make sure she understood the repercussions of the girls’ actions. But first he needed the answer to her question himself. So he said the only thing he could at the moment.
“I don’t know.”
He walked over to Two and went inside, leaving Becky to wonder. He didn’t see her knees buckle as the door closed behind him.
~*~*~
Brackett glanced over from the backlit x-ray viewer as the dark-blond paramedic entered.
Roy eyed his partner’s form on the table. An IV line snaked down from a pole nearby to his arm, a nasal canella was in his nostrils. Bandaging was wrapped around his head like a cap without a top to it, another covered his eyes like a blindfold. Carol was re-adjusting the flow of the IV.
“How is he, Doc?”
Johnny turned his head slightly to the side. “Roy. . .?” His voice was weak and groggy.
“Yeah, it’s me.” Roy walked over to give his friend and partner a light squeeze of the hand as he waited for the answer to his question. “You look like you went ten frames with a bowling ball instead of the pins,” he teased in an effort to hide his worry. The remark got him a very wan, lazy grin.
“Feel like it.”
“How much did Tom tell you?” Brackett wondered.
“That Johnny’d been in an accident on his way home from the bowling alley, seven other individuals were involved, two--” He cut himself off as he glanced at Gage. Maybe his injured friend wasn’t aware of the fatalities yet. “That he suffered several injuries, one possibly involving his kidneys.”
Kel pointed to the x-ray still displayed. “He’s got a fracture of the medial malleolus and to the fifth metatarsal bone of the foot. Neither is displaced, so he shouldn’t need surgery.” He turned off the light to the screen. “The lab found traces of blood in his urine and he has pronounced tenderness in his left flank. As you know, both findings are generally indicative of some form of kidney damage. We'll continue to monitor the situation closely. If there is no dramatic increase in the amount of blood in his urine, he may be able to get by with just bed rest—plenty of bed rest."
Roy glanced down at Johnny. He seemed to be resting now, but with the ‘blind fold’, it was hard to tell. Which led to another thought.
“What about his eyes?”
“I’ve got an ophthalmologist on his way to examine them in depth and make a diagnosis there. Dwyer did a superb job of irrigating them at the scene, but I’m not sure if his blurred vision is from the concussion or the other. . .or both.” Brackett sighed and folded his arms across his chest. “He lost consciousness at the scene. Multiple times. So we’re also looking at the very least a grade two concussion. Fortunately the CT scan didn’t show any evidence of bleeding in the brain.”
That in itself was a relief.
~*~*~
Once the ophthalmologist arrived not long after Roy had gotten there, the senior paramedic excused himself from the room. Now that he knew what kind of shape his partner was in, he was ready to get the rest of the story from Becky. He hoped she’d still be there. Knowing her and how different she seemed from her two counterparts, it would be more of a surprise to not find her somewhere waiting.
Roy glanced around and noticed the nineteen-year-old seated in the waiting area. She had a box of Kleenex on her lap as she stared straight ahead at a set of empty chairs.
He walked toward her. By the time he reached the waiting area, she looked at him and with no emotion stated, “My legs gave out on me. They’re making me stay here until they’re sure I’m okay. Could be a long wait.” She wiped at her red rimmed eyes with a tissue before hesitantly asking, “Is he still--”
“Alive? Yeah, yeah, he is,” Roy stated softly.
“How bad is it?”
“We won’t know for a few days,” he said as he took a seat across from her. “There’s a couple of things that need to be monitored.” Roy noticed the change of expression on her face, her lower lip quivering. She was about to break down again. He wanted to be angry, but instinct and training told him compassion was what she needed.
“I’m sorry!” She sobbed. “I didn’t mean for it to happen, I swear!”
“I’m sure you didn’t. Most people don’t.” He paused a few seconds before asking, “What did happen. . .exactly?”
It took her a few moments to gather herself together, then she told him everything, including the part about Laurie being left catatonic.
“He was right,” she cried again. “He was right about everything. If I could just go back to before tonight.”
Roy shook his head. Why did it take events like this to wake people up? It was unfortunate, but she was going to have to live with the fact it took a couple of lost lives and his partner being put in a bad situation for her to realize it wasn’t such a bad idea to listen to someone with more experience.
At least she gets it now. . .
She didn’t even need a lecture from him. What she did need was a ‘who’. Dixie came to mind. But she wasn’t on duty.
Roy stood up with a sigh, then gave her a gentle squeeze on the shoulder as he walked past.
“I’ll be right back,” he quietly stated.
He went over to the pay phone in the waiting area to call Joanne. Afterward, he’d see if Becky would agree to him calling her parents if he sat with her until they arrived.
~*~*~
Five days later, Johnny was still in the hospital. He’d been getting plenty of bed rest, as prescribed. With his right foot and ankle in a cast, it was easier for him anyway. Since the traces of blood in his urine had lessened considerably, it was confirmed he’d suffered a bruised kidney as first suspected.
A single large square bandage covered the stitches in his head. A hint of purple and yellow bruising could be seen around the edges, but most was hidden by the cover.
His eyes were no longer bandaged. Only the left one had a patch loosely taped over it to allow it time to heal, but not entirely block the light and give bacteria a warm dark area in which to grow.
Doctor Mason initially had had to remove a tiny piece of dirt the first night he was called in. It had gotten embedded under the surface of Johnny’s right eye. The debris was so small, it was only visible when magnified. He hadn’t been able to get as good of a look at the other eye until the swelling decreased several hours later. It was then determined Johnny suffered scratches on the under side of the lid as well as in the eye itself.
With the vision of his right eye back to normal, Johnny lay propped up in bed, the TV in the upper right corner of the room on as he watched the game show Let’s Make a Deal.
“The box,” he told the contestant on TV. “Take the box.”
Suddenly there was a light knock on the door and Roy peeked his head inside.
“All right if we come in?”
“’Course.” He adjusted to sit up a little more as Roy, Chet, and the two Dwyer brothers walked in, all dressed in civilian clothes since they were off duty.
“I’ll take the curtain,” the woman dressed as a banana on the show stated.
“No, no, not the curtain,” Johnny protested. He looked at his guests. “I told ‘er to take the box, but she wouldn’t listen to me.”
“Don’t feel bad, they don’t listen to Joanne either,” Roy commented with a grin. “Drives her crazy.”
First the prize she turned down was shown. It was a beautiful colored console television. Johnny shook his head slightly, a brief wave of dizziness washed over him. It was just one of the remnants from the concussion that would be with him for awhile.
Good thing I’m already down. . .
“It’s gonna be a zonker behind the curtain,” he predicted, not mentioning the wooziness to his friends. They knew what he was in for anyway due to their training; he didn’t have to inform them.
Sure enough, the banana lady ended up with a donkey.
“Wow, too bad you can’t bowl as well as you play this game,” Chet teased, referring to their game nearly a week earlier.
“Hey, you know I’m a good bowler. It had to’ve been just an ‘off’ night. ‘Sides, I heard you didn’t exactly win.”
“But I didn’t lose either.”
“Neither did he,” Charlie pointed out. “Wilson did, remember?”
Johnny gave a smug grin. “I owe ya one, Charlie.” The guy was as good of a paramedic as his brother Tom. Gage figured he wouldn’t even mind working around him someday. Maybe eventually there’d be an opening at Station 51 and a few of them could talk him into transferring there.
“I’ll tell ya what, Chet,” Johnny said with a slight grin. “I’ll bet ya two bucks I can beat you next time.”
“You’re on.” The mustached fireman looked down at the cast, an obvious hindrance and certainly not the only one. “But I think we’ll have to wait awhile, huh?”
“Awhile,” Gage agreed.
“So, how’re you feeling? Really. . .” Roy wondered.
Johnny turned off the television with the remote control. “Sore. Real sore. Every where.” Of course, that was when his medication wore off. Most of the time he was now on a dose that was just enough to take the edge off and keep him comfortable.
With nothing more to add, he changed the subject. “Cap was by again earlier. Becky was with ‘im. After she left, he told me she'd been outside the door, fidgeting. Guess she was afraid to come in here.”
“How’s she doing?” Dwyer asked.
“I don’ know. She wouldn’t say a whole lot. ‘Cept she was sorry and that she moved back in with her parents.”
Roy was glad to hear the news. He’d had a long talk with her about the idea, one she’d initiated, while they waited for her parents to arrive at Rampart the night of the accident.
Things were getting better by the day. Johnny was expected to recover from all his injuries and be back on duty after an extended time off; time he could use to get a new vehicle to replace his totaled one.
Hopefully Becky really had learned a lesson and it would be the beginning of a less trouble-filled life for her.
~*~*~
Two and a half years later. . .
“324.” Johnny stated as he and Roy headed down the hallway. His partner hadn’t asked, rather it was more out of habit to mention what they were looking for once they were on the right floor.
Roy looked at the numbers on the doors as they passed by, the handie talkie in his hand in case dispatch needed to contact them for any reason. Johnny carried a medium-sized paper bag.
The two paramedics stopped outside the door to room 324. Johnny rapped on it lightly with his free hand, then opened it a crack to peek inside.
“Are you up to some company?”
“Yes!” Came the young woman’s response. “C’mon in.”
He opened the door the rest of the way up. He and Roy walked into the room, all smiles when they saw Becky holding a baby wrapped in a pink blanket. She’d stayed in touch with them on occasion over the past thirty months and the men were anxious to see her little girl who’d arrived into the world the day before.
Becky’s husband Brad, a hippy-type in appearance but very responsible guy, was seated in a chair near the bed. He started to get to his feet, but Johnny motioned for him to stay where he was.
“She’s beautiful, isn’t she? Just like her mother.”
Becky blushed while the paramedics agreed.
“She sure is.”
“She’s gonna have you wrapped around her finger in no time,” Johnny stated.
“She already does,” Brad admitted. “She had me as soon as I held her.”
“What’s her name?” Roy wondered.
“Shannon Marie.”
Johnny grinned. “I like it.”
Becky had come a long way from where she was when they’d first met her. No one, not even herself, was sure how she’d handle life after the accident that took two lives. But she had emerged stronger; with a clearer head on her shoulders. Despite going through a bout of depression, Becky had managed to pick herself up and turn her own life around.
Laurie had as well. She was a waitress at a local ‘all you can eat’ buffet-style restaurant. Johnny and Roy had stopped in for lunch a few times while on duty, though they never got to stay long enough to eat all they could.
None of them knew for sure about Karen. She’d moved to San Diego fifteen months earlier and that was the last the two ladies had heard from her.
"This is for Shannon," Johnny said as he stepped over and handed the bag he'd been carrying to Brad. The young father reached out and took it, then peered inside. He pulled out a small soft white stuffed lamb with a pink polka dotted bow on its head.
"It may be awhile before she can play with it," the Roy explained. "But we thought she might enjoy the song it plays now."
Brad wound up the key on the toy's back, the watched as the lamb's head moved in a circle motion as it played the tune 'Mary Had a Little Lamb'.
"Oh, it's wonderful. She'll love it," Becky assured. “You wanna hold her?” she asked the two visitors.
“Sure.” Johnny walked around to the other side of the bed and gently took the little pink bundle from the young mother. He looked down at the sweet angelic face of the newborn as Roy came closer and peered inside the blanket.
If they could put her in a protective bubble until she was twenty-one, both knew they would. But that wasn’t how life worked and like her mother, she’d eventually have to take the ‘bumpy road’ through adolescence to adulthood; they just hoped that ‘road’ wouldn’t be as drastic as it had been for some.
I want to thank Jill Hargan for help with the Johnny accident scenes, though originally it was for another story about five years or so ago. I finally did something with them, Jill. :o) Also many thanks to Ross for help with a few medical things (that I wasn't sure of after research) and for help with some Brackett-speak to keep him sounding like a doctor. Also for her never-ending encouragement on all my projects. :o) The part with a teen who purposely cut herself with razors is based on a real incident with a girl my sister and I knew back in the 1970s.
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