TTHHEE  PPRRIISSOONNEERR

Part 6

All was silent until about three a.m. when Roy was awakened by some strange noises Johnny was making down below on the floor. Roy’s eyes popped open when he heard a sort of low guttural  moan coming from Johnny, and heard him moving restlessly. He laid quietly in bed, staring at the ceiling, waiting for Johnny to quiet down so he could go back to sleep.

But Johnny didn’t quiet down. The moaning grew louder and more frantic as the seconds ticked by, until Johnny was beginning to writhe on the floor, now very obviously in the throes of some kind of night terror.

Roy sat up quickly and leaned over the side of the bed. The unnatural amber light filtering in through the crack in the draperies revealed a sheen of sweat across Johnny’s face, his brows creased together, and he was beginning to pant through his mouth, his head moving back and forth. His hands were drawn upward in a protective gesture, and seemed to be clawing at something unseen.

“Johnny?” Roy called tentatively. He’d always heard you shouldn’t wake someone up from a nightmare abruptly. When Johnny didn’t response, he called more forcefully. “Johnny!” Roy climbed out of bed.

Johnny was talking in his sleep now, his words were slurred but unmistakable. “Off….off, get ‘em off….pleeease…..” His movements began to get more frantic. Then, “Nnnoo….no! NO! Get away!…..Oh God!” Johnny began panting, then cried out once.

The nightmare had been prompted by a small black bug that had crawled onto Johnny in the night. In his sleep, he’d felt it on his leg, but instead of waking, the reality of that one insect had turned into a nightmare of hundreds. Now, in Johnny’s subconscious, shiny black cockroaches were crawling over him, swarming, covering him. He felt them go up his neck and onto his face, in his hair, near his mouth, and he flailed his arms, desperate to get them off him.

A pockmarked face materialized in front of him, and he felt himself restrained, unable to move. The bony face smiled, and when it did, cockroaches crawled out of its mouth from around several missing teeth, his face moving in close to Johnny’s. Frantically, Johnny yanked against his bonds, to no avail. The bald man grabbed Johnny’s hands, and proceeded to break all his fingers, one at a time. As they broke, they fell to the floor, his hands were left with bloody nubs where his fingers had been. In his nightmare, Johnny was screaming, just as he had done the night of his interrogation.

Roy was kneeling beside him now, his hands grasping his shoulders, trying to contain Johnny’s thrashing limbs, trying to wake him up. “Johnny! Wake up! You’re dreaming! C’mon, wake up!” When Johnny wouldn’t awaken, Roy jumped up, crawled across the bed, and turned on the light. Squinting in the brightness, he saw that Johnny’s eyes were now open, wide and looking wildly outward, seeing some silent horror. Johnny’s face was paralyzed in an expression of utter terror.

Roy scrambled back across the bed and onto the floor, trying again to wake his partner. He was in John’s face now, his voice insistent for him to wake up, his hands once again grasping John’s shoulders, frantically shaking them. Roy had never seen anyone before that was so caught in the web of their nightmare.

In John’s world, the man’s bony face grew wide, metamorphosizing from that of the pockmarked man to one with fleshy jowls hanging down, his lips opening into a threatening smile, revealing his yellowed and missing teeth. His hands reached outward toward his prey, until they touched Johnny’s body, slowly moving downward. Johnny screamed, then instinctively drew his fist back and lashed out, hitting Roy squarely in the face.

Roy tumbled backward, stunned for a second, then his face exploded in pain. Leaning sideways, he brought his hand up to his nose; it came back bloody. He looked up, squinting in pain. Johnny seemed to be coming out of it; his glazed eyes were combing the room, and the thrashing had stopped. He had now pushed himself up into a lopsided sitting position against the wall, knees drawn upward, his hands outstretched defensively. Blinking, his panting slowed, and he licked his lips and swallowed, slowly becoming cognizant of where he was. He looked down; the cockroaches were gone; the little black bug was crawling away onto the blanket. Roy saw Johnny lunge out and whisk the bug off the blanket. “Johnny?” he called softly.

Awake now, Johnny slowly looked up at Roy, quickly noticing the blood dripping from his nose. An expression of confusion swept over his face as he beheld his friend’s bloody face. “Roy?” Johnny dazedly pulled himself away from the wall and crawled toward Roy on his hands and knees, who was still on the floor. “What happened? You’re bleeding! Did you fall out of bed?”

Roy eyed Johnny for a minute, realizing Johnny didn’t remember hitting him. “Ah, no; I…I didn’t fall out of bed.” Roy started to get up, needing a tissue. The blood was starting to drip onto his pajama top.

“What happened?” Johnny insisted.

Roy hesitated, remaining silent.

Johnny looked at Roy warily, sensing now something had transpired that he didn’t want to think about. He recalled the dream with a shudder, remembered a man’s face, threatening, in front of him, remembered drawing his fist back….became cognizant of the fact that his knuckles hurt…oh no…

“Roy, I didn’t…..did I?” he winced, his face scrunched up in remorse.

Roy saw the expression of mortification on Johnny’s face and decided to try to downplay what had happened. He knew we wasn’t going to be able to hide the fact from Johnny that he’d just assaulted him, so he quipped lightly, “Uh huh. You been takin’ lessons from Mohammad Ali?”

“Oh, God,” Johnny said under his breath, still trembling from the images that had haunted him moments ago. “Man, I’m sorry, Roy,” he nearly whispered. Shakily, Johnny got up and went into the bathroom, retrieving a couple of towels. Approaching Roy, he ordered, “Here, get up and sit in this chair.” He pulled the chair out for Roy and helped him up into it. “Here.” Johnny started blotting the blood off with the wet towel, his hand shaking. “I’m sorry,” he whispered again.

“I got it.” Roy took the towel to minister to himself, then gazed up at Johnny, seeing how upset he was. “Hey, it’s okay. Don’t sweat it; it’s just a little nosebleed,” he said kindly.

Johnny stood watching Roy.

“See, it’s almost stopped.” Roy wiped the blood off; the flow was slowing. He knew the protocol; he pinched his nose and tipped his head back.

Johnny stood there mortified at what he had done, his fingers running through his unkempt hair. A moment later, he turned back to Roy. “You all right? Let’s see it now.” Johnny pulled the towel away and examined Roy’s nose. Johnny’s nose wrinkled as he checked for breakage. “I don’t think it’s broken. Here; you hold this; I’m gonna go get some ice.”

“Johnny, you don’t have – ”

“Yeah, I do.” He pulled his jeans on, grabbed the ice bucket, and walked out of the room to the ice machine sitting on the sidewalk around the corner from the front of the motel. He filled the bucket with ice, berating himself all the way there. Man, what a dumbshit thing to do. He stood there a moment, limply holding the ice bucket, and closed his eyes. I feel like such a fool! Roy must think I’m cracking up. God.

He headed back to the room, barefooted. The night air had cooled and he heard crickets singing. Except for the obnoxious neon sign glaring out front, the entire motel was dark. Everyone was probably asleep. Roy was still sitting in the chair with his head back when Johnny reentered. Grabbing a dry towel, he wrapped up some ice in it and handed it to Roy. Roy noticed his friend wasn’t able to meet his eyes; Johnny’s face was a mask of shame.

Roy pressed the ice to his nose and watched as Johnny sat down on the edge of the bed, hanging his head, his elbows resting on his knees. He looked exhausted.

Understanding how Johnny must feel, Roy soothed, “Look, don’t worry about it, Johnny. It’s not that bad; it hardly hurts at all,” he lied.

Johnny grimaced and looked up at him. “How is it now?”

Roy pulled the ice away and touched his nose. The bleeding had stopped. “It’s all right.”

“I’m really sorry, Roy.”

“It’s okay, Johnny. It wasn’t your fault. You just had….a bad dream. I guess it…must have been pretty vivid.”

“Yeah,” he said quietly.

“You want to tell me what it was about?” Roy tried. Maybe Johnny needed to talk about it. At the same time, given the reaction Johnny had had, Roy wasn’t one hundred percent sure he wanted to know what Johnny’s dream was about.

Johnny sighed, knowing there was no way he was going to tell Roy what the dream was really about; subconsciously it wasn’t something he was emotionally prepared to verbalize – ever. His nightmare had been heading in the direction of the attack he’d endured by the Butcher, only to have been abruptly awoken before he’d had to relive it again. The horror of it had been too awful; deep down he knew those words of description would never escape his lips.

He licked his lower lip, feeling like he owed Roy some explanation, and so he started in a deep voice. “It’s just…well…uh…I…I told you about…my bed in the prison…about how it was on the concrete floor…just a thin pad?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, see, the prison was infested with cockroaches. They were everywhere, a-a-and they used to….to crawl on me….at night, and…”

Roy lowered the ice pack away from his face, and listened in stunned silence as Johnny described how the filthy insects had crawled on him most every night. Though disgusted, Roy remained silent, giving his friend this small opportunity to get some of the horrors he had suffered out into the open, hoping talking about it would help to kill the beast, so to speak.

Johnny went on. “I…I was dreaming….they were on me again….around me….touching me….” Johnny’s eyes took on a faraway look as he continued, “….lots of ‘em, and then they…..he…..and I….I couldn’t….” he stopped as his face contorted. He was wringing his hands in his lap.

Roy stared at Johnny wide-eyed, and came to the realization that it wasn’t the bugs Johnny was talking about. It was a cover for what he’d really dreamt. “God, Johnny,” Roy said very quietly, almost to himself. He set the ice aside and quickly went to sit next to Johnny on the bed. It caught Johnny off guard, and he visibly startled, jerking away from Roy slightly.

Giving him some space, Roy slid a few inches away from him as inconspicuously as he could. He wanted to reach out and touch his friends shoulder, to offer some kind of comfort, but the unspoken message was clear: stay back. Roy shrunk away from his friend, keeping his hands folded unthreateningly in his lap.

“Johnny,” Roy tried to say evenly, even though he was frustrated at his own inability to help his friend, “I…don’t know what to say.” Roy stood up, rubbing tiredly at the back of his neck, then turned and looked straight into Johnny’s tortured eyes. “It’s over,” he said firmly, his face set in a reassuring expression. “You’re free now. It’s not gonna happen again – ever.”

“I know,” Johnny responded quietly with an uncertainly that belied his words, his gaze dropping down to his knees.

“And tomorrow, you’re going home.”

What home? Johnny wondered bitterly. Yours? Because I don’t have a home any more. He left his thoughts unspoken, not wanting to sound ungrateful, knowing Roy was only trying to comfort him.

“Johnny, I know this past year has been….horrible…for you, but, just try to remember that eventually, with time, it’ll get easier. I know it will.”

Easy for you to say.

“You’ve got your friends….to help you through this. I’ll do anything I can, Johnny, and so will all the guys. I hope you know that.”

“I know,” Johnny said unevenly.

“Good. I’ll tell you one other thing.”

“What?” He looked up into Roy’s eyes, and saw raw compassion in them.   

“You’re not sleepin’ on the floor any more.” Roy’s words were stern, but they were tinged with softness.

“Roy – ”

“No argument. Get in the bed.”

Johnny could see his friend meant business. He was almost hoping Roy would offer to sleep on the floor, but he knew he couldn’t ask that, so, reluctantly, he laid down on the bed, pulling the sheet over him. His thoughts became consumed not only with the embarrassment of what he had done to Roy, but with the worry that the nightmares were going to keep him from working. The one thing he had been counting on since Roy picked him up was the fact that he would be able to go back to work. How was he going to sleep in a room full of men when he kept waking up with violent nightmares? It would be humiliating to have them all see him wake up screaming in fear. Trying to block the thoughts out, he closed his eyes, and threw his left arm over his eyes.

Roy stepped into the bathroom to take a look at his nose one last time. A bruise was beginning to form on the side of his nose and under his eye, but it didn’t look too bad. He drank a glass of water, then made his way back into the room, grabbed his ice bag, and shut off the light. Very gently, Roy slid into bed next to Johnny, being very careful not to get too close to him. It was difficult, being that they were two full grown and tall men, and it was only a full size bed, but Roy rolled to his side and scooted to the very edge of the bed, in order to offer his friend the small security of not having to touch another human being while he slept.

Roy rolled over into wetness; the ice in the bag had melted onto his pillow. He opened his eyes, and immediately became aware of his sore nose. Gingerly, he touched it, wincing when he squeezed too hard. He rolled over onto his back; the other side of the bed was empty. In fact, the room was empty.

For a moment, he felt panicked, wondering if Johnny had maybe taken off somewhere, and then suddenly, he heard the key in the lock.

Johnny pushed the door open, then reached down and picked something up off the sidewalk that he had placed there, then entered the room. He had two steaming Styrofoam cups of coffee in his hands, and he set them down on the small table in the room.

Roy pushed himself up to lean on his elbows. “Mornin’,” Roy greeted.

Johnny turned to look at Roy. Roy thought he looked tired. “Mornin’,” Johnny echoed. “I got us some coffee.”

“Oh, thanks. Where’d you get that?”

“Office.” Johnny took his coffee and sat down in the chair by the table. Not quite looking Roy in the eye he asked, “How’s your nose?”

Roy touched the sore appendage again. “It’s all right, Johnny.” Roy climbed out of bed and went to get his coffee. He felt stiff from the bed and rubbed the small of his back. Thoughts of trying to sleep on concrete floors with roaches crawling on him made him think twice before he complained of his sore back. He took a sip of the hot brew, then peeked through the opening in the drapes. “What time is it?”

“About eight fifteen.”

“Oh. We better get goin’. We need to get over to Stan’s and see if they can fix the truck. You wanna get in the shower before we go?”

“Already did. I’m ready to go.”

How long has he been up? Maybe he never went back to sleep. “Oh. Okay, well, I’m gonna jump in; I’ll be done in a few minutes.”

“Take your time,” Johnny said quietly. He stood up and pulled open the drapes. It looked like it was going to be another hot day. He stood at the window, staring outward.

Roy regarded his dark-haired friend for a second before he turned for the shower. Johnny looked depressed, almost forlorn, and Roy figured the nightmare was probably bothering him, amongst other things. Well, today was a special day, and Roy was determined to make sure it would be one Johnny would never forget.

After waiting thirty minutes for the mechanic to examine Roy’s truck, they were met with bad news as Stan informed them that Roy’s starter was bad, and he didn’t have the part in stock. He would have to drive to the next town to get it. He didn’t think he could get the truck repaired until sometime in the middle of the afternoon. Roy hung his head in frustration and cursed under his breath. They had no choice. They would have to wait. Together the two men walked out of the repair shop over the oil-stained concrete and down the road with intentions to check back around one o’clock to find out the status of the truck.

Johnny had been quiet all through the conversation, standing back passively as Roy spoke with the mechanic. His stony expression was unreadable to Roy as they turned to leave, but Roy thought how un-Johnny-like it was for him to stand by silently while receiving the bad news about the truck.

They were two blocks down the road when Roy said, “C’mon. I’ll buy you breakfast.”

“You’re gonna have to; I don’t have any money.”

“It’s okay; it’ll be my treat.” Roy smiled, then said, “After all, I gotta do something for your birthday.”

Two beats later, Johnny realized what Roy had said, and stopped walking. Roy stopped alongside him, waiting for his reaction.

“W-what did you say?” Johnny looked incredulous.

“I said, I gotta to do something for your birthday. Today’s your birthday, Johnny.”

John’s mouth dropped open. “It…it is? Is it…August?”

“The twenty-eighth,” Roy said matter-of-factly.

Johnny still looked shocked. “Huh. I didn’t even know what month it was.” He scratched his temple. “I’m….how old am I? I’m…” His mind seemed to be clogged.

“Twenty-eight.”

Johnny stared out into the distance. “Somehow, I feel a lot older than that right now.”

“Yeah.” Roy stared at his friend, determined to get through to him. “But you’re not. You’re young, Johnny. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you.”

Johnny looked over at Roy as this revelation about his life sunk in. After a few seconds, he said, “Yeah. You’re right. I guess I do, don’t I?”

“Yep.”

Johnny started walking again. “C’mon. I’m starvin’. Let’s get back to that restaurant.”

Both of them picked up their pace.

Johnny sat hunched over his plate, shoving the food into his mouth at breakneck speed. He had learned to eat even more quickly at the prison than he had at the firehouse, else other inmates would steal the food right off his plate before he was finished. Roy had bought a newspaper, and peeked over at his friend as Johnny feverishly poured over the sports section. He seemed to be totally absorbed in that paper, like it was a drug he needed that he’d been deprived of. In essence, it was. Johnny hadn’t read a newspaper in months, and now he was drinking in the information that was now free for him to read, as if he were afraid someone might snatch the paper from his hands before he finished.

He’d lost track of his favorite sports teams, and was so buried in reading their latest statistics that he didn’t hear Roy speak. Roy tapped the back of the paper Johnny was reading, and Johnny jumped in his seat; an expression of alarm crossing his face for a split second.

“Sorry.” Roy knew that he had startled his friend.

Johnny settled down. “S’okay. Did you say something?”

“Oh, I was just saying that I hope the truck will be done soon.”
            “What time is it?”

“Eleven o’clock.”

Johnny groaned. “Looks like we’ve got a couple more hours to wait.” He folded the paper and set it down, then took one last bite of toast. “Man, that omelet was great. Thanks, Roy.”

“You’re welcome. I’m just sorry about the truck. I was counting on us getting home today – that was gonna be part of your birthday present. But now it’s looks like that’s not gonna happen, unless we drive half the night.”

Johnny looked thoughtfully over at his friend. “It’s okay, Roy. I’m not in that big a hurry.”

Roy looked surprised. “You’re not?”

“Well, no; I mean, I’ve been gone this long, what’s one more day?” He wanted to add, I’ve got nothing to go home to anyway. My house and all my belongings are gone, but thought it would sound ungrateful. He also didn’t want to admit openly that he was feeling anxious about returning to his old life, almost afraid. Wanting to know, but not wanting to at the same time, he asked, “Hey, Roy? Um, I was wonderin’; how much did my house sell for?”

Roy leaned back in his seat as he considered the question; a slight smile grew on his face. “Nothing.”

Johnny looked perplexed. “What? What do you mean ‘nothing’?”

“I mean, I didn’t sell it.”

“What?!”

“I said I never had it listed.”

Johnny was incredulous. “Roy,” he said in exasperation, “I asked you to sell the house! You knew I had no way to make the payments!”

“I know.” For some reason, Roy had this sort of smug knowing look on his face that Johnny was at a loss to understand.

“Well, then why didn’t you sell it?”

“Because, Johnny, I didn’t need to.”

Johnny just stared at his friend with his brows in a furrowed expression, his mouth partially agape, totally lost. The waitress walked by and Roy called her over, asking her to refill their coffee cups. Johnny was growing more anxious by the minute wondering what had become of his house in his absence.

Very calmly, Roy said pushed Johnny’s coffee cup toward him and said, “Here, now drink your coffee, and I’ll explain to you why I didn’t sell your house.”

With that, Roy enlightened Johnny with the details of the fund raiser they had for him way back when he was first imprisoned, and how much money they raised, then Chet’s additional idea for the individual donation canisters at all the stations, at Rampart, and other places that the paramedics frequented. Roy explained about how he had used the money to pay off the mortgage every month, with the exception of this last month, and how he had gone to visit Johnny’s aunt, continuing to supply her with a check each month. He filled Johnny in on the details of her health, his cat, his home, and even his Rover, and the things they had all done to keep them secure while he was gone.

Johnny was blown away with this information, and he sat speechless; feelings of shock, confusion, gratitude, and discomfort all washing over him simultaneously. On the one hand, being the fiercely independent person that he was, the charity made him uncomfortable. Unfortunate circumstances during his young life had dictated a necessity not to rely on anyone other than himself for anything. On the other, he was so touched by the news of his friends’ gestures, he could barely speak. He found himself blinking away moisture in his eyes, incredibly humbled to know that he had so many people who cared so deeply about him that they had been willing to go to such extreme measures for him. Johnny leaned forward, his elbow resting on the table, and ran his hand through his hair, trying to process everything that Roy had said. Roy could see that his news had caught his partner totally off guard. Roy felt a great warmth inside of himself that his actions and those of his friends had brought on this type of reaction from Johnny. Johnny didn’t need to speak; Roy could tell how moved he was; the picture of his friend before him was worth a thousand words. However, Roy felt a tinge of sadness that the expression on Johnny’s face revealed that he found it hard to believe that his friends would actually go this far for his well-being.

Roy went on. “The good news is, that I talked to the Cap, and he thinks he’s going to be able to get you some back pay, now that they’ve cleared you. I don’t know how much, but it’ll probably be enough to get you back on your feet and get the mortgage paid for the month. If not, there might be some more money in those collection cans. Whatever the case, Johnny, you’ve still got your home.”

Johnny was shaking his head now. He looked down at a spot on the table, then back up at Roy. “Roy, I…I don’t know how to thank you. I can’t believe all this. I can’t believe…everything you’ve done for me….and after the way I treated you the last time you came to the prison, and the way I treated Chet and Marco.” He looked back down to fix his gaze upon a crumb on the table. “I was such a jerk, Roy. I’m…really sorry…for the way  I treated you.”

“No. I was the one who was a jerk, Johnny.” Now Roy looked away. “I guess I….I just couldn’t comprehend what it was like…”

“No one could,” Johnny said in a low voice. “I hope no one I know ever has to.” Johnny looked Roy earnestly in the eyes. “Thank you, Roy, for everything. You don’t know how much it means to me, what all you did.”

“It’s okay, Johnny,” Roy said, feeling slightly embarrassed at his friend’s praise.

 “I don’t know how I’m ever gonna repay you….but I’ll try.”

Roy sighed, a little frustrated that his friend felt that he didn’t have the right to accept their help without paying it back. After everything they’d been through together, and as close as they were both as friends and coworkers, Roy thought that by now it would be understood that this is what brothers did for each other, without hesitation, and without needing to be paid back. “I can’t believe I have to tell you this Johnny. Listen; ‘cause I’m only going to say this once. You’re our brother, and that’s what brothers do for each other. None of us ever expected you to repay us. We still don’t. We’re all just glad you’re coming home, and that we were able to help. I just wish…well, I’m just sorry I didn’t do something sooner.”

Johnny was incredulous. “My God, Roy, don’t apologize. You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. But…thanks, again.”

“You’re welcome.” Roy wanted to lighten the seriousness of the discussion some, so he added, “The Phantom is excited for you to get back. He’s been bored with Dwyer; as a matter of fact, Dwyer’s gotten the Phantom more times than the Phantom’s gotten him – and with his own tricks!”

This brought out a smile on Johnny’s face. “You know, I never thought I’d look forward to being hit in the face with a water bomb again, but I actually think I’ll enjoy it the first time he gets me.”

Roy laughed, heartened to hear Johnny talk about going back to work. It was a good sign. “Hey, let’s go back and check at Stan’s and see how the truck’s comin’.”

“Good deal.”

Roy paid the bill, and together they got up and left the restaurant.

The repair on the truck was finally completed by two o’clock that afternoon. Roy paid the mechanic, and once more the partners were on the road again. They drove for three hours, hardly speaking a word to each other, sometimes just listening to music on the radio. At one point, Roy looked over to see his friend had fallen asleep; his head lay turned to one side leaning against the headrest. His eyes strayed down to Johnny’s hands, which lay limply in his lap. Roy couldn’t help but notice the crooked deformity of two of Johnny’s fingers, fingers that had obviously never healed properly after being brutally broken by Mexican police. It reminded him once more of the horrors his friend had faced, of the many scars he now carried both inside and out, and he almost felt overwhelmed with sadness and anger as he wondered if Johnny would ever really get over what had happened to him.

Johnny awoke around five fifteen after a good hour and a half nap. Rubbing his eyes, he spoke for nearly the first time all afternoon. After a look around at the arid, flat, desolate surroundings, he asked, “Where are we?”

“Arizona…somewhere. Haven’t seen much of anything for awhile.”

“Doin’ okay on gas?”

“Yep. Got about a third of a tank. I’ll stop at the next station.”

Johnny remained uncharacteristically silent after that.

A little while later, they noticed they were entering the outskirts of a small town. Roy picked up the map and glanced at it, realizing there was no way they would get home today, unless they drove most of the night. With that unappealing thought, an idea formed in Roy’s mind. “Hey, you hungry?”

Johnny considered this a moment, then said, “Yeah, I am. You?”

“Yeah. I’ve got an idea.”

“What?”

“Well, since it is your birthday and all, what do you say we just find a place to stay here tonight, and we’ll go out somewhere and we’ll celebrate. Then, tomorrow, we’ll drive home.”

Home. The sound of it was wonderful and frightening at the same time. Yes, it would be good to delay that just a bit longer, maybe just to grow a little more accustomed to the idea. “That sounds…good, Roy.” Maybe a night out with a friend is just what I need. It’s been so long. Maybe it’ll get my mind off everything…

“All right; let’s see what we can find.”

They drove on a mile or so, and Roy spotted a Sinclair station, so he pulled in to fill up his tank. When he went in to pay for the gas, he asked the attendant for information on nearby lodging. The attendant told him about a little motel not far away, but off the beaten path, where it was quiet, and had a nice view. He also gave Roy the lowdown on some restaurants where they could get a good dinner, which he suggested to Johnny when he returned to the truck.

They found the motel, a little single story mom and pop business down a lonely road, just off the beaten path, as the man had said. They checked in, and both men were relieved to find that each room was equipped with two queen-sized beds. Not only that, but the room had a unique feature: a back sliding door that led out to a small patio. There were two patio chairs and a small plastic table, and the scene before them was a stunning view of the Arizona wilderness. Quiet and serene, a sandy desert lay spread out before them,  punctuated with rocky red outcroppings and cactuses. It looked like something out of a John Wayne movie.

The first thing Johnny did when he entered the room was to head to the back door, and sliding it open, he stepped out. He stared out at the lonely landscape for a long time, admiring the desolate beauty. For a moment, he could clearly envision himself out there on a galloping horse, riding alone, exploring the land. The thought of being by himself in the wilderness was enticing, and he decided that when he returned home, somehow, he would find a way to get away for a while. He would head for the sereneness of the forests and mountains, and camp out under the stars, seeking comfort and answers in nature, as he had done so many times before. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

“You ready?”

Roy’s voice suddenly behind him surprised him to the point that he jumped, causing his head to jerk around rapidly, fear momentarily crossing his features.

Roy pretended not to notice Johnny’s reaction, understanding all too well where it had come from. “Let’s go eat,” he tried cheerfully.

Johnny recovered quickly. “Sounds good.” He forced a crooked grin that Roy knew wasn’t heartfelt.

Roy was determined to make this a pleasant evening for his friend, and had chosen a steakhouse to take Johnny to.

Around six-thirty, they pulled into the parking lot of Mitch’s Black Angus Restaurant and went inside. The cool, dark inside felt soothing compared to the blistering sunshine, which, even at this hour, was still intense.

The restaurant had a western feel with wood paneled walls and wagon-wheel lights, each with little lanterns all the way around it. Old rusty farming paraphernalia decorated the walls, along with other nostalgic items. They could hear music coming from a bar area adjacent to the main restaurant. They sat down in their booth and began to look at the menu.

“Want a beer?” Roy asked.

A beer. Johnny hadn’t had a cold beer in….he didn’t know how long, but it sounded wonderful. “Yeah, that sounds great,” Johnny said enthusiastically.

Icy mugs were set before them after a short time, and they ordered their dinners. Johnny drained his beer glass in under ten minutes; the cold smooth brew had tasted so good to him.

“Have another,” Roy suggested. He could see that even after one glass the cool liquid had relaxed his friend just a bit.

“Okay,” Johnny smiled. Roy was still sipping his first brew. Soon their waitress brought another beer and their dinners, two steaks done medium rare with baked potatoes and salad. Johnny dug in voraciously; his eyes closed while he was chewing the first bite of his steak.

Roy smiled at him. “How is it?” He was still eating his salad.

Johnny smiled back. “Man, I think this is the best steak I’ve ever eaten.” He cut up another bite and shoved it into his mouth. Under his breath, he muttered, “I hope I never see another tortilla again as long as I live.”

Roy looked up at Johnny, hearing his comment. Wryly, he said, “Marco’s gonna be disappointed.”

Johnny slowed his chewing and looked up while he considered Roy’s statement. “I’ll get some extra hotdogs to eat when he’s cooking.”

Roy laughed. He was glad Johnny could joke about it.

They finished their dinners and Roy paid the bill, followed by a slightly sheepish thank-you from Johnny. For once, Roy didn’t mind forking out the cash for the dinners; it was just so good to see his friend relaxing and enjoying himself, that the money spent was well worth it.

It was still early, and after they left their booth, they wandered past the bar area. Johnny stopped, looking in, listening to the music playing. He was tapping his foot to “Green River” by CCR, and Roy stopped beside him. There were a few people in the bar, and a couple dancing. A disc jockey situated in the back of the room behind a small dance floor was organizing his records, readying the next song. The bar was dark and cool, and looked rather inviting as the two stood peering in.

What the hell, Roy thought, we’ve got nothing else to do. “Want to go in and have another beer?”

Johnny looked over at him in surprise. “You sure? You’ve spent a lot already.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s your birthday, isn’t it? Let’s celebrate!”

A wide grin broke out on Johnny’s face. “All right; you’re on! Let’s go!” With a slight spring in his step, Johnny led the way into the bar and picked out a seat at a small booth off to the side.

Both friends ordered a beer and leaned back to listen to the music. Breaking the silence, Roy said, “Well, let’s have a toast.”

            “Okay. To what?”

            “How about…to freedom.”

            Johnny smiled thoughtfully. “I’ll drink to that.” They clinked glasses and each took a swig of their beers. Johnny drew in a deep breath and blew it out. He sat thoughtfully again, then stated, “Man, that’s something I’m never gonna take for granted again.”

            Roy looked at him knowingly. “Yeah; I can understand that.” Roy met his gaze, holding it briefly; a look of understanding passing between them before he broke the eye contact. Roy looked away awkwardly, before allowing his gaze to track the nervous movements of his fingers on the rim of his beer mug. The silence started to lengthen between them before Roy cleared his throat, "Johnny," he started, allowing his hesitant gaze to finally meet his friend’s. "I hope you don’t think I’m being nosey, but if you ever feel like talking about it. . .any of it. . .well, I’d like to hear about what it was like….what happened….how you escaped. I, um…" Roy started to go on, but stopped himself, uncertain as to what kind of reaction he should expect.

            Johnny looked away uncertainly, again, feeling very reluctant to ruin his good mood by discussing events at the prison, but again, could almost see the need in Roy’s eyes to know. After a few moments, he finally decided it wouldn’t hurt to divulge a few things; after all, Roy deserved some information. Besides, the third beer had started to relax Johnny, so he opened up just a bit. “Well, I certainly never planned on escaping; the opportunity just sort of…came up.”
            Roy took advantage of Johnny’s willingness to comment on his statement. “How so?”

            “Well, there was a guy I knew named Lou; he was one of my cell mates. He’s the one who planned the whole thing. After his heart attack – ”

            “He had a heart attack in prison?”

            “Yeah. One night in our cell, he started complaining of chest pains. Then he went into full arrest. I had to do CPR on him for close to five minutes before the guards came and took him away.”

            “Jeez,” Roy said softly.

            “Yeah. I thought for sure he was dead. Well, he survived. They brought him back about a month later. Shortly after that, I guess he decided he didn’t want to die in prison, so he came up with this escape plan. I was invited to go along; I guess it was his way of repaying me for what I did.”

            Roy sat listening, enthralled and stunned at the same time as Johnny relayed yet another unbelievable aspect of his prison life.. He stayed quiet, hoping Johnny would tell him the details of the escape. Johnny remained silent for a while, lost in thought.

            Prodding him forward, Roy asked, “The warden told me you escaped…in a trash truck?”

            Johnny lifted his head, averting his attention back to Roy. “Ah, yeah. One thing about that prison, it was overcrowded and understaffed. There were just too many inmates for them to be able to keep track of us all. That in itself made things much easier.

To make a long story short, we climbed through some duct work to the roof. From there, we jumped off into the open bed of a trash truck.” He cringed as he remembered the stinking odor of the garbage and rotting food that had clung to his body. “It wasn’t very pleasant, but it was a hell of a lot better than stayin’ in prison.” He became quiet again, slowly taking a drink of his beer.

            “What happened then?” Roy said gently, wanting to hear the rest of the story, but not wanting to push too hard.

            “Well, we transferred to the back of another truck, and two guys drove us to the border. We all got out and thought we had it made, and then….we saw the headlights of the border patrol vehicles.” Lowering his voice, he said, “I’ll never forget that as long as I live.” Johnny looked off to the side, his gaze now unfocused, as he remembered that night. In a voice laced with emotion, he slowly continued. “We all started runnin’, and then I heard shots. They were shooting at us. But it was raining so hard, they had a hard time seeing us. I barely knew I was hit, but they got me in the arm. All I remember is seeing Lou go down, and when I crawled over to him, he….” Johnny swallowed, “he…half his head was blown away.”

            “Jesus,” Roy said under his breath. Johnny looked dazed, like he was reliving it.

            “I remember looking up, and seeing the border patrol driving in the other direction. I heard them firing at the other guys, and I thought they would be coming back for me any second. I  knew at that point that I had to get away; I didn’t want to go back. I didn’t even care then…if they killed me; I just knew I had to try. So, I got up and started runnin’; the fence was right in front of me. I couldn’t believe they didn’t see me, and then I was over.” Johnny stopped again, then seemed to pull himself back to the present. He slowly focused back on Roy’s face and said, “Once I was over the fence, I just kept runnin’; I don’t know for how long. I kept going for a day or so, then I kinda stumbled upon Willa’s house.”

            Roy was speechless, his blue eyes transfixed on Johnny, his hand glued to his beer glass. He could actually picture the whole thing in his mind, and he swore his own heart was beating faster just imagining the terror of that night. He watched as Johnny picked up his beer and took a drink, apparently done with the story. Roy took a deep breath, not sure of an appropriate thing to say. “You must have been…terrified. I know I would have been.”

            “Yeah. Well, I don’t think I can quite describe it.” He looked away again. “You know, Roy,” he stopped to lick his lips, pressing them together, and looked down into his beer at the same time, “I really didn’t think….I was gonna make it out of there alive.”

            Roy didn’t want to voice his sentiment, but knew there had been many times when he had been scared of the same thing himself. Instead, he tried to be positive. “I know. But you did. Even if you hadn’t have escaped, it would have only been a few more days and I would have been there to get you.”

            Johnny smiled sadly. “I know; and I appreciate that. You don’t know how much; but I think it might have been too late then.”

            Roy’s eyebrows crinkled together in a frown. “What do you mean, ‘it would have been too late’?” Roy asked, his voice raising up an octave.

            Johnny looked around, then took a large gulp of his beer, damning himself for the accidental slip up. This was something he definitely didn’t want to talk about, but now that he had opened the proverbial can of worms, he would have to offer an explanation. The slight buzz he had from the beer swayed his decision in favor of telling Roy just a bit – but not too much. He took a deep breath. “Well, there were these guys…from the very beginning they were out to get me. A….few days before we escaped, they….they almost did.” He swallowed convulsively and took another large gulp of beer. “I was painting in the hallway; it was one of the jobs I did while I was there, and I…wasn’t paying enough attention…and they….pulled me into a closet, and….” Johnny closed his eyes as he remembered his absolute terror from their actions, their hands holding him, his clothing as it was being  ripped off and the repulsion he had felt, the struggling, and the leer of their dark revengeful eyes.

            Roy could tell something awful had happened in that closet, and his stomach tensed, almost dreading what Johnny might say, the fear of having to hear and then envision a graphic description of atrocities inflicted on his friend almost too much to bear. Roy could see that Johnny was reliving the incident in his mind, was caught in the throes of it, and knew that Johnny might just go over the edge if he continued, so Roy was unsure of how to proceed. Should he push for more information, wait to see if Johnny continued, or try to get Johnny out of his memories?  What if Johnny broke down, right there in the restaurant? What would he do? How would he handle that? But something was gripping him, freezing him from telling Johnny to stop, as if he had no right to ask his friend not to tell him of the torture he went through. Johnny had endured it; the least Roy could do was to listen while his friend unloaded his anguish on him.

            It was not to be. Johnny kept the details of those horrors to himself. Even though the act hadn’t actually happened that time, it had been close, and continuing to speak of the things that led up to it were becoming too painful, so he didn’t. Johnny shuddered ever so slightly, then opened his eyes. Looking out into space, he continued.

            “A shelf came down; I was fighting them, and it….made a lot of noise. If the guards hadn’t have heard and come in….I….I wouldn’t be sittin’ here right now.”

Roy swallowed, feeling guilty in his relief that Johnny had spared him the details about what had actually happened in that closet. Draining his beer, Roy commented, “For both our sake, I’m glad you are.”

Johnny only nodded, the impulse to flee suddenly overtaking him. Abruptly, he got up from the table, and with a quick, “Excuse me,” he fled, heading toward the restroom.

The door swung open with a bang, hitting the wall behind it, and Johnny took refuge inside one of the stalls. His breath came in quick gasps, and he closed his eyes, trying to get a grip on himself. He sat down on the edge of the toilet seat, and gripped his head in his hands. Forcing himself to slow his respirations, he tried hard to escape the visions his mind had conjured up a few moments ago. The bathroom was empty and quiet, and after several minutes, he finally calmed enough to exit the stall and consider going back to the table. Instead, he stopped at the sink, then bent to splash some cold water onto his face. Staring at his reflection, he waited until his face no longer looked stressed and tense, then smoothed his disheveled hair and slowly walked out of the bathroom.     

Roy sat nervously drumming his fingers on the table, waiting for Johnny to return. Johnny’s abrupt departure was setting off alarm bells in his head, and it was all he could do to keep from following him into the restroom to make sure he was okay. Three minutes went by, then four, then five. Roy was really starting to worry that the conversation he had initiated had caused Johnny to go over the edge. Johnny’s face had taken on a traumatized expression as he’d gotten deeper into his story, his eyes had become glazed and his speech shook ever so slightly. Roy was perceptive enough to notice that even his hand was trembling slightly as it gripped the handle of his beer mug.

Feeling he had waited long enough, Roy had just stood up to go after Johnny, when he saw him emerge from the restroom. He quickly sat back down, surreptitiously trying to scrutinize Johnny as he approached the table. John’s expression was now blank, and he appeared fairly relaxed. He offered a small reassuring smile as Johnny made it to the table, and slid back into his seat. Roy resisted the impulse to ask if his friend was okay, knowing it would only make Johnny uncomfortable. His attention was drawn away from his partner as two people approaching them caught his eye.

Johnny glanced up and noticed Roy’s eyes look upward and behind him. From behind his right shoulder, he sensed someone’s presence, and instinctively jerked around to see who or what it was. He wasn’t expecting to see two pretty girls standing in front of their table, and stared up at them in surprise with his mouth half open.

The two girls smiled down at the paramedics. Both looked to be in their early to mid twenties, one brunette and one honey blonde. The brunette had long dark shiny hair and was very pretty, with blue eyes and slight dimples. Her platform sandals below her denim mini skirt raised her five foot four frame up about three inches, and Johnny couldn’t help but notice her taut and tan stomach below her short top. The other woman was a little taller and also quite lovely, with green eyes and full lips. Her golden hair hung in waves at her shoulders, and she wore a short black sleeveless dress.

The brunette looked down at Johnny and smiled sexily at him, revealing  pearly white teeth. “Hey, cowboy,” she asked seductively, “wanna dance?”

Johnny stared up at her a moment, and fought the urge to look around to make sure it was him she was referring to. Caught off guard, he looked back at Roy with uncertainty, his deer caught in headlights expression slowly wearing off. He seemed to be tongue-tied. “Uh…,” was all he managed to say.

Roy looked at Johnny. He needs to get his mind off these memories. Motioning at Johnny to get up, he said smiling, “Go on. Why don’t you dance? It’s your birthday, after all.”

The brunette’s eyes opened wider. With excitement, she exclaimed, “Your birthday? Well, c’mon; let’s have a birthday dance.” She reached down, tugging on his arm, and reluctantly, he started to get up from his seat.

Slowly, Johnny relaxed, and smiled a small crooked grin back at her. “A-all right. Sure. Why not?”

Her smile grew wider, and she slipped her hand through his arm as he stood up. Roy watched as they walked to the dance floor. The other woman remained in place and smiled sweetly down at Roy, all the while chomping on a piece of gum. He smiled back at her nervously, suddenly wishing at that moment that Joanne was sitting next to him.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi.”

“You wanna dance?”

“Uh,” Roy said dumbly, feeling guilty for being in a bar without Joanne and considering dancing with a pretty girl. He mentally shook himself. It’s just a dance, DeSoto. Lighten up! It’s not like you’re gonna do anything! It might be fun.  “Okay,” Roy answered with a silly embarrassed smile on his face. He got up and walked to the dance floor with her. She mimicked her friend by slipping her hand through Roy’s arm as well.

Roy entered the dance floor with her, which was about half full. The DJ was spinning a disco song now, coaxing everyone to get up and dance to its intoxicating beat. Roy relaxed and began dancing with the girl; he decided he should do this with Joanne sometime; it really was fun. Sometimes with the stresses of the job and the kids and family life, he and Joanne didn’t get out nearly enough to have fun alone. The last eight months had been especially stressful with Johnny’s incarceration and the death of his father-in-law. Roy made up his mind when they got back, which would only be in one more day, that he was going to take his wife out on the town, and take her dancing. She deserved it after the kind of year they’d had.

The girl swayed in front of him as the music played.

Baby babe; let’s get together.

Honey-hon, me and you.

And do the things, ahh, do the things,

That we… like to do.

Ahh, do a little dance,

Make a little love,

Get down tonight,

Get down tonight, baby…

Do a little dance,

Make a little love,

Get down tonight,

Get down tonight, baby…

            Roy glanced around the dance floor and saw Johnny dancing with the brunette. He looked much more relaxed now; his small grin had grown to a wider smile. He really seemed to be having fun. Roy’s mouth dropped open slightly as he saw the moves Johnny began making. Johnny had the girl by the hands; first he pulled her toward him, then away. Letting go with one hand, he twirled her, then pulled her back, catching her in his arm. He picked up her other hand in his and they circled once, then she pulled away again, and he twirled her again. She landed in his arm and his body followed hers down as he dipped her. His face lingered closely over hers just a moment, then he pulled her up again and danced with her next to his body. Then they repeated the same move again.

            Roy watched, mesmerized. He had no idea his partner was such a skilled dancer; he guessed he’d never known it because he and Johnny just never went out to nightclubs together. Now he knew why Johnny was so anxious to dance at Dixie’s birthday party, and how disappointed he was when he ended up breaking his leg in that gas explosion and missing the party. Johnny was clearly enjoying himself as he moved fluidly across the dance floor with the girl, a happy smile on his face. A mirror ball was turning overhead, the multi-colors glittered across the room.

            The song ended, and just as quickly, another started. A little tired, Roy looked at his dance partner and said, “You want to sit this one out?”

            “Okay,” she called over the loud music, and they both stepped off the dance floor. She followed Roy to the table and sat down next to him. “You’re a pretty good dancer,” she said.

            “Thanks,” Roy smiled. “You’re good too.”

            She smiled, and held out her hand. “I’m Veronica; my friends call me Ronnie.” Her gum snapped and she turned it over in her mouth with her tongue.

            Roy shook her hand. “Hi Ronnie. I’m Roy.”

            Her eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Roy! Oh, I like that! Roy and Ronnie; Ronnie and Roy. That sounds nice together, doesn’t it?” she smiled.

            Roy suddenly felt stiff. He swallowed. “Well, actually, my wife probably thinks Roy and Joanne sounds better.” He felt stupid saying that as soon as he’d said it, but he felt obligated to tell her he was married before she got any ideas.

            Her face fell. “Oh. You’re married, huh?”

            “Yeah.” He looked down, embarrassed for some reason.

            “Where’s your wife?”

            “Well, my friend and I, we’re from LA; we’re just on our way home. She’s there. Since it’s Johnny’s birthday…”

            “Oh, so you’re out celebrating.”

            “Yeah.”
            “Oh. Is…your friend married too?”

“No, he’s single.”

“Oh. Well, that’s nice. What are you two doing out here anyway?”

            Roy looked at her uncomfortably. “Ah, it’s a long story.”

            “Oh.”

            The two remained silent while Roy tried to think of something to say. “Um, would you like a drink?”

            She looked at him with uncertainty. Is this guy trying to pick me up? If he is, then why would he have told me he was married? Maybe he’s just being nice. “Okay.”

            Roy motioned the waitress over and ordered her a glass of wine. A minute later, the wine was delivered to the table. The disc jockey had now put on a slow song called ‘How Deep is Your Love’, by the Bee Gees, which calmed down the frenzied atmosphere of a few minutes earlier. Some of the people stepped off the dance floor, but Roy noticed the Johnny and the brunette girl had stayed. Johnny had her in a close embrace and they were now slowly swaying to the music; John’s eyes were closed. He looked very content, and now Roy was glad they had come in here, knowing that this might just be what Johnny needed. Roy was glad his friend’s birthday was turning out happy.

            The brunette girl pulled back slightly and looked into Johnny’s eyes with a smile. “I’m Caitlin,” she murmured.

            He smiled back. “Johnny,” he said simply.

            “Hello, Johnny. I like the way you dance.”

            “Likewise,” he said, then pulled her back to him. Closing his eyes, they danced cheek to cheek. Her lavender perfume floated into his nostrils. A moment later, she unlocked her hand from his and laced both her arms around his neck. His hands slid down to her waist. Moving her cheek sideways across his, her lips brushed his in a kiss. Surprised at her forwardness, he opened his eyes a moment, then as he felt her mouth open, his eyes rolled upward, then closed as he returned the hot kiss. Nothing could have felt better to Johnny at that moment in time than to be holding and kissing a pretty girl. It had seemed like an eternity since he’d touched a woman, and he felt himself growing warm. Their dancing slowed to a swaying shuffle as they remained lip-locked, unaware of anyone else on the dance floor.

            “Caitlin likes your friend,” Ronnie stated with a smirk.

            “I can see that.” Roy looked away, feeling like his eyes were invading Johnny’s private moment.

            Veronica leaned forward and said, “Don’t be surprised if you go home alone tonight.”

            Roy raised his eyebrows at her, then looked back toward the dance floor. Johnny and Caitlin were still kissing deeply. He turned back to Veronica. “I don’t think Johnny will be going home with your friend.”

            She shrugged and raised her eyebrows. “I don’t know about that. She usually gets what she wants.”

            “Does she do this often?”

            Veronica looked at Roy questioningly. “Do what often?”

            Roy stared at her. Oh, boy. I guess she’s not the sharpest pencil in the box. “Pick up guys at bars and take them home.”

            “Oh. Well, yeah, she’s been known to; especially if she spots one she really likes.” Ronnie looked over at the couple on the dance floor. “I just hope her boyfriend doesn’t find out.”

            Roy’s eyebrows shot up. “Her…boyfriend?”

            “Yeah. Boyd. He’s really jealous. I think she does this sometimes just to get his attention.”

            Roy sighed. Oh boy. Well, we’ll be gone tomorrow; Johnny won’t be able to get involved with this one.

            The song ended, and the disc jockey put on another slow song. Johnny and Caitlin remained on the dance floor in each other’s arms, alternating between dancing and kissing.

            Suddenly Veronica’s attention was focused on someone who had just entered the bar. “Uh oh,” she said with a look of fear in her eyes.

            “What’s wrong?” Roy asked.

            Her voice went up a notch. “It’s Boyd. He’s here. I had a feeling he was gonna come lookin’ for Caitlin tonight. They had a fight last night.” They watched together as Boyd scanned the bar looking for his girlfriend. He was a big man, muscular, with a crew cut and a dumb look about his face. Tattoos decorated both his triceps. Spotting Caitlin out on the dance floor, his face filled with fury and he stormed in their direction.

            “Oh, no,” Ronnie said. “There’s gonna be trouble.” She got up from the table and began inching away toward the exit. Roy decided he’d better get up as well and warn Johnny.

            Before he could even reach the dance floor, Roy watched in dread as the big man lumbered up behind Johnny, and used both hands to pry him and Caitlin apart.

 Johnny had a dazed expression on his face, and he had barely gotten a look at the man when a large fist sailed toward his face. His vision exploded in stars as the fist made contact with the side of his face, and he stumbled backward, falling on his backside. Roy was there instantly and moved to intercept the man when he saw him lunge toward Johnny, intent on assaulting him again.

            Roy grabbed the man by the arm with the objective of pulling him away before he had a chance to pummel his friend. “Hey!” Roy yelled, pulling on the big man. “Just get away from him, okay? He didn’t mean any harm.”

            The brute turned on Roy, his eyes crinkled in disbelief and anger. Roy saw the look and cringed, too late to avoid the punch that landed squarely in the center of his cheek. With an ‘unph’, Roy tumbled backwards and fell, the sharp sting of the hit overcoming him. Rolling onto his side, he reached up with his hand to cradle his face, which was now throbbing in pain. Boyd wasn’t through with him yet, incensed that Roy had tried to intercept his attempt to pulverize the man who was making moves on his girlfriend. Looming over Roy, he drew his arm back for another blow.

            Recovered from the earlier attack, Johnny watched, incensed, as the thug hit Roy once, then moved in for more retaliation. The sight of seeing his best friend bloodied caused anger to well up in him, and with an almost frightening look of abhorrence about him, Johnny pulled himself off the floor and descended on the man who was about to hit Roy once again.

            As Boyd drew his fist back once more, Johnny caught it from behind and spun the man around by the wrist to face him. Roy watched from his position on the floor, and the ominous expression on Johnny’s face caused a cold chill to course through him. It was an expression he had never beheld on his friend before, and it scared him. Johnny’s face was stony, almost warrior-like, and his dark eyes looked black and menacing, his jaw clenched so tightly together that the veins in his neck were distended.

            With teeth gritted, Johnny growled in a low, threatening voice, “Get – away – from  – him.” Johnny’s slitted eyes resembled those of a wild animal, and his face was set in an intimidating stare as he dared the man to cross him. Johnny was breathing heavily through his nose, his nostrils flaring, his eyes searing into the other man’s. A trace of fear crossed Boyd’s face as he took in the naked primal glare in his adversary’s eyes. The man had no way of knowing that Johnny was no longer seeing him; instead, in the midst of a flashback, Johnny was staring into the face of someone else, someone evil, someone who had committed the ultimate act of violence on him. Even though that man was now dead, the memories of what he and his friends had done to Johnny would never die, and all the hatred that had built up toward that man was about to boil over.

            Boyd locked eyes with Johnny, and an uncertainty crossed them for a moment, which quickly faded, and he drew his fist back and swung at the paramedic. Gage was ready, and placed himself in boxing position, ducking skillfully. With lightning speed, his own fist flew out and landed squarely in the man’s face, then went back up in a protective posture in front of his own body. Boyd’s expression turned to rage as blood ran from his nose, and he swung at Johnny two more times. Roy watched in shocked awe as Johnny deftly dodged the punches, then with unbelievable quickness, delivered three stunning blows, two to the man’s face, and one to his midsection, knocking him to the floor. Johnny stood over the bleeding man, panting, daring him to rise up and fight back, and when he didn’t, he stooped down and grabbed the man by the collar. Johnny had drawn his fist back to strike the man again, when he felt hands grasping his from behind, pulling him away.

            “Johnny, stop. Stop!” It was Roy. Johnny looked up at Roy in rage, blood dripping from his own face from a bloody nose and cut lip. He jerked away from his friend and turned his attention back to the man on the ground with the intention of doing more damage to him, when Roy again, and more forcefully, latched onto his arm, pulling him away.

            Roy shouted urgently now, trying to get through to Johnny, sensing that Johnny was lost in another world, and afraid that if he didn’t stop him, Johnny might do something terrible. “John, stop it! Stop it! Now!”

            Those words caused John to pause and look at his friend in confusion. Panting heavily, he stared at Roy, reality slowly seeping back into him.

            More softly, Roy added, “That’s enough, Johnny. Don’t do something you’ll regret.”

            The younger paramedic sagged, and took one last look at the man lying on the floor who was moaning and holding his face. The fat man’s fleshy face was gone now, replaced by that of a younger man. Johnny dislodged his grasp from the man’s shirt and sat back on his haunches. The reality of what he’d almost done seeped into his consciousness with alarming intensity, and a look of distress and shame swept over his face.

            “C’mon, Johnny,” Roy tugged on his arm, pulling him to his feet. “Let’s get out of here.” Roy got behind a slightly dazed Johnny and gently pushed him toward the exit, leaving the patrons of the bar staring after them.

            As they pushed open the door, they saw the two girls they had been with taking off in their car. Together in silence, they walked to Roy’s truck and climbed in.

            Roy looked over at Johnny as he started the engine. “You okay?”

Shakily, Johnny ran a hand through his hair. He closed his eyes a moment and blew out a breath. “Yeah.” Now composed, he turned to Roy and his eyes widened at the bleeding cut and rapidly spreading bruise growing on Roy’s face. “Oh, man. Look what he did to you.” He leaned toward Roy, reaching out. “Let me take a look at ya.”

            Roy looked back toward the bar. “Look, let’s get out of here first.” He threw the truck into gear, and backed out of the parking lot. No one came out after them, and Roy suspected that this wasn’t the first time that Boyd had made a scene in that bar. He also suspected that the outcome of that scene ended up a little differently this night than it had previous nights.

            Roy drove about a mile down the road when he spotted a small combination convenience store and gas station, so he pulled in and parked. Johnny once again turned his attention to Roy’s face. Roy craned his neck up to get a look in the rear-view mirror. He grimaced when he saw the damage.

            “Ah, it’s not too bad, Roy. I don’t think it’ll need stitches.” Johnny was blotting at the injury with a napkin he had found on the seat of Roy’s truck.

Roy pulled away slightly, wincing, then took the napkin from Johnny. The bleeding had nearly stopped, and he wiped at his face. Looking over at Johnny, he said, “You didn’t exactly get off scott-free, you know. Here, let me take care of that.” Roy grabbed another napkin and tried to examine John’s face, but Johnny unconsciously moved away from Roy after snatching the napkin away from him, wanting to tend to his own injury. Johnny didn’t like being that close to Roy, and having another man touch him bothered him. 

Roy regarded Johnny while he absently blotted the blood from his face, still not used to his friend’s evasive behavior. Johnny seemed far away. “How is it?” Roy asked.

Johnny sighed. “It’s fine. It’s no big deal.” To him that was the truth, because in the past eight months he had suffered much worse beatings, so a bloody nose and a cut lip seemed insignificant compared to those incidents. Johnny lowered his hand, taking the bloody napkin away from his face, and stared out the window. Roy waited, the look on his Johnny’s face causing him to anticipate something more from his friend.

            “I wanted to hurt him, Roy.” Then, turning to make brief eye contact with Roy he added, “I mean really hurt him, when I saw what he’d done to you." Now looking forward, out into the night, he said quietly, “I’m supposed to want to help people, Roy, not hurt ‘em.”

            Roy honestly didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing. Inside, he felt frightened at what his friend had just admitted, but certainly understood where it had come from.

            “I could have gotten arrested again.”

            Roy shivered, a chill running down his spine at the thought of Johnny being in jail again. He had to offer some sort of reassurance to his friend. He sighed. “That’s true. We both could have been arrested.” He turned to Johnny. “But you didn’t start it, Johnny. He threw the first punch. You were just defending yourself, and you stopped him from beating the crap beat out of me, which I’m very thankful for.” Roy smiled briefly. “Everyone in that bar knew it; that’s why no one did anything about it.”

            “If…if you hadn’t have been there, I…”

            Roy looked soberly at Johnny. He wanted to be able to say that if he hadn’t been there that Johnny would have been able to stop himself, that there was no way his friend could have inflicted serious damage on anyone. But now, after everything that had happened, he wasn’t completely one hundred percent sure. “Well, I was there. And I’m gonna be there in the future. And I think I’ve gotten to know you well enough over the years to know that you’re not the kind of man who could purposefully hurt another human being, no matter what’s happened. Just remember that, Johnny.”

Over the last few days, Roy had begun to realize that the road Johnny would go down in the future might be a long one; this incident was evidence of that. He was going to need someone at his side who understood what he was going through, and try to help him get over it. Roy wasn’t entirely sure he thoroughly understood the hurdles his friend was going to have to leap, but he had some idea. Being a paramedic had allowed him to witness not only the physical aspects of people’s injuries, but sometimes the mental ones as well.

            Johnny took a deep breath and let it out forcefully. He ran his hand through his hair again, trying to calm down. “Ahh, shit, Roy. What a crummy end to the evening.”

            “Hey, who says it has to be over?” he said, trying to cheer John up. Roy moved to get out of the truck. “Wait here.” Before John could say anything, Roy was out of the truck and on his way into the convenience store.

            Johnny watched, wondering what his friend had in mind. He rolled down the window and waited. It was around nine fifteen, and the sun had just gone down. Splashes of muted gray-oranges and blues swirled just above the horizon, and a warm breeze drifted into the open window, soothing him. He curled his tongue around the cut inside his mouth, wincing when he hit the tender spot where his teeth had cut his cheek. He could still taste blood. Just when that began to drudge up dark thoughts, Roy was back with a brown paper bag in his arm.

            The truck door creaked open, and the seat bounced as Roy scooted in. He plopped the bag down into Johnny’s lap.

            “What’s this?”

            “Birthday beer.”

            That brought a smile to Johnny’s lips. “Birthday beer?”

            “Hey, the night’s young. Let’s go back to the room and celebrate somewhere where we can’t get into any trouble.” Roy looked over at Johnny and smiled. “Okay, Junior?”

            Johnny stared hesitantly at his friend a moment, then a crooked smile grew on his face. “Sounds like a winner of an idea, Pally.”

            Roy started the truck and pulled out into light traffic, heading back in the direction of their motel.

Fifteen minutes later, the two paramedics were settled in their patio chairs behind their hotel room, gazing at the very last remnants of daylight, each holding a freshly opened cold beer. The others were on ice in the room.

            The total quiet of the moonlit night was soothing, and both men began to relax. They each drank their first beer quickly, enjoying the fact that it dulled the pain from their earlier tussle in the bar. When Roy came back with their second round, he noticed how enthralled Johnny seemed to be in the landscape. “Nice, huh?”

 “Yeah.” Johnny looked wistful. “Kind of reminds me of home.”

Roy arched his brows in surprise. “You mean LA?” he asked incredulously.

Johnny snorted. “Nah. I mean, home, when I was a kid.”

“Oh; Montana?”

“Yeah. I mean, this is different; Montana wasn’t usually this hot or arid, but the vastness and the wilderness of it all just reminds me. ‘Course, we had the mountains too.”

“Sounds nice. Ever think about going back?”

Johnny shook his head slowly and took a long pull on his beer. “Nope.”

“Why not?”

“Nothin’ to go back to.”

Roy wasn’t sure if he should ask the next question, but he did anyway. He wanted to know. “What about your family?”

Johnny thought a moment, then said, “Well, they’re….gone now; and the ranch I grew up on, it was sold years ago; may not even be there any more, I don’t know. Hell, it’s been so long since I’ve been back I doubt I’d even know anybody any more.” The beer had mellowed him, and he spoke as if it were something no longer of any importance to him. Roy suspected otherwise.

Roy wanted to ask his friend what had happened to his family, but while he was trying to figure out how to word it, Johnny abruptly changed the subject.

“So, Roy, what’s been going on in your family? Anything new?”

Roy looked down at his beer, absently rolling his thumb around the round glass opening. “No, not really. I mean, well, yeah, actually, my father-in-law died.”

Johnny’s head whipped around to face Roy with that comment. “What?!” He stared at Roy in shock, his mouth hanging open a moment. “What happened, Roy?”

“He had a stroke. Blood pressure went through the roof. There was nothing they could do; I think he was dead before he got to the hospital, but they tried to save him anyway.”

Johnny looked shocked, and for the first time, realized with enormous guilt that he had neglected to even think about his friends’ lives and what might be happening to them during his incarceration. He had been so wrapped up in his own dreadful circumstances that he had never considered that everything might not be so great with Roy or his friends. “When did this happen?” he asked softly.

“A couple of months ago.”

Fresh guilt washed over Johnny as he thought of everything Roy must have put on hold to help him. He remembered the conversation they had had the last time Roy had visited him in the prison, and what Roy had said about what it had cost him to come down there; how he had neglected Joanne and his family. His stomach began to knot up when he realized how selfish he had been, and how awful he had treated Roy that day. After a few moments he said, “God, Roy, I’m really sorry. Paul was….a good guy; I know how much you liked him.”

“Thanks.” It hit Roy again how much he did miss his father-in-law, and he felt a lump growing in his throat. It had been hard not to think about it; the two had become quite close in the years he and Joanne had been married. With Roy’s own father having died when Roy was a teen, Paul had kind of taken his place as surrogate father. Roy had been so wrapped up in trying to console Joanne, that he hadn’t really had time to experience his own grief.

“So, how’s Joanne? Is she okay?”

Roy then launched into an explanation of how distraught his wife had been, and everything they had been through with the funeral arrangements, and then all the necessary things that needed to be taken care of after someone dies. He talked about his mother-in-law, and with chagrin how much time she had been spending with them, and all the things he’d been doing for her. Somehow it helped to get it all off his chest and unload on someone, it was something he really hadn’t talked much about with anyone. Normally, it would have been Johnny he would have talked to, but Johnny hadn’t been around this time. Thinking back on it, Roy started to realize just how stressful his life had been between this family death and what his best friend was going through.

“Wow,” Johnny nearly whispered. “I had no idea.  I wish…there was something I could have done to help. I’m sorry.”

Roy finished his beer and set it down on the concrete patio. “It’s okay, Johnny; you had enough of your own problems. We got through it. Things are returning to normal now, thank God.”

A sudden thought popped into Johnny’s head, and he said reproachfully, “You shouldn’t even be here right now. You should be at home with your family, not sitting here drinking beers with me.”

Roy smiled softly. “No, you’re wrong. Right here is where I wanna be right now. This should have happened a long time ago. I feel bad enough about that as it is.”

What’s he talkin’ about? All this wasn’t his fault. “Roy – ”

Roy held up his hand to silence Johnny, and turned to look at him. “To be honest, it feels good to get away. Even though the circumstances of my leaving were less than ideal, I think this has been good for me.  Don’t worry about it. And don’t feel guilty, okay? I needed this.” Roy could see the look of self-incrimination on Johnny’s face and said jokingly, “Besides, I’ve had about all I can stand of my mother-in-law. I needed a break. Now, since it’s your turn to get up,” he noticed Johnny had drained his own beer bottle, “how about going and getting us two more?”

Johnny wavered in uncertainly a moment, still trying to grasp everything Roy had told him, then acquiesced, and got up. “Okay.” He opened the patio doors and went inside to fetch two more cold ones.

Moments later, Johnny appeared with two freshly opened beers. Talk turned to other things, work, the kids, the guys, and projects Roy had been working on. By the end of their fourth round, both men were beginning to feel slightly numb. Roy got up and fetched them both another beer, then plopped down heavily into his chair. Roy touched the side of his face; he could barely feel the aftereffects of his earlier run-in with Boyd’s fist.

Johnny saw him palpitating his nose. “Hurt?”

“Barely, now.”

Johnny touched his swollen lip and felt around with his tongue in his cheek once more. “Me neither,” he smiled, then chuckled.

Roy laughed too. He looked over at his friend, and realized he was glad that Johnny had stepped in when he had at the bar. He was also glad that Johnny had been able to take on the guy, preventing them both from being seriously hurt. The vision of Johnny’s lightning quick right hook spawned a question “Hey, Johnny, can I ask you something?”

“What?”

“How’d you learn to fight like that? I mean, you looked like Muhammad Ali the way you took care of that character in the bar back there. I didn’t know you could throw a punch like that.” Not to mention the one you hit me with in the hotel last night.

Hesitating a moment, Johnny’s expression grew a little dark. “Well, I guess it was born out of necessity, Roy.”

Roy nodded silently.

“I….had to learn to defend myself, or else I’d probably be dead right now. Those people…they’re not like any you or I have ever known. There were guys in that place that were hardly human – worse than animals.”

“So, how did you learn?”

“Well, a guy I knew; his name was…James. We met on the bus out of Acapulco, kinda became friends. He was a fighter, or at least he used to be, I guess. He taught me everything he knew.” He looked down a moment, and a pained expression crossed his face. Then he raised his head, his mouth set in a grim line. “If it weren’t for me, he’d be alive right now.”

Shocked at Johnny’s comment, Roy wasn’t quite sure what to say. “What? He…he’s dead? Johnny, that couldn’t have been your fault.”

Johnny sighed. “He was murdered – because of me. They were tryin’ to get back at me.”

Roy sat stunned, in disbelief that Johnny could be blaming himself for the man’s death. “My God,” he said softly, “what happened, Johnny?”

Johnny took a deep breath and looked away, blinking; a stricken look appeared on his face. Roy watched as his friend’s fists clenched up and now wished he hadn’t asked. Johnny spoke slowly, as if he were straining for control. “The guys I mentioned to you before, you know, the closet guys. I don’t know why, but they hated me, maybe because I was an American, I don’t know. The first week I was there, they – ” Johnny’s voice caught and he stopped abruptly. He tried again; “They – ” he couldn’t get the words out of his mouth.

“Johnny…” he said in a comforting tone.

His face screwed up in anguish, Johnny leaned his face into his open palm, his elbow resting on the arm rest of the chair, his other hand clenched onto the end of it. “Goddamn it,” he whispered in a shaky breath.

Roy understood completely why Johnny couldn’t vocalize it. His stomach knotted up to see his friend so tormented. Gently, he said, “Johnny…I…I know. You don’t have to say any more.”

In a massive effort to control himself, Johnny took in a deep breath and forced himself to look up. Inwardly, he chanted, It’s over; it happened; it’s not ever gonna happen again. You’re out of prison now, away from them, forever. Get a grip on yourself. Don’t lose it in front of Roy.  He swiped his hand over his face, scrubbing at his eyes, then took a swig of his beer. He knew he shouldn’t be talking about any of this right now, knew the alcohol would bring the intense emotions he had about it to the surface, but for some unknown reason he wanted to talk about James, maybe he needed to talk about him. As long as he didn’t talk about the other stuff, he thought he could hold it together.

Johnny swallowed, choosing to ignore what Roy had said. He simply couldn’t acknowledge to himself that Roy knew about the rape. No, he denied it to himself, though deep down he knew it was true; no one could ever know about that, and he would never admit it or discuss it with anyone – ever. “I…I made a stupid mistake. I told the warden…about them, who they were. After that, things just got worse.” Johnny’s haunted eyes were fixated out onto the dark landscape.

Roy stared at his friend wide-eyed, barely comprehending what it must have been like. He licked his lips, afraid to ask what happened next.

Johnny seemed far away as he remembered that afternoon. “One day we were out in the yard; we were practicing the boxing stuff, you know? James was showing me a hook, and we had our backs turned.” Johnny was shaking his head, mentally berating himself. “I was so stupid; I wasn’t paying any attention. They came right up behind us…I couldn’t do anything….they were holding me back…and then….and then….they cut his throat,” Johnny’s eyes closed as he tried to turn off the emotions boiling inside him. “It was deep; they cut right through his carotid, his windpipe; there was nothing I could do.” His head dropped back to his hand, his elbow leaning on the armrest of the chair, his gaze downward to his lap. The beer bottle dangled from his other hand as the whole scene came alive again in his mind, the filthy thugs holding them, the metallic sparkle of the knife, the red blood as it spurted from James’s throat, and James’s horrified expression as they ended his life.

Startled by the feel of a hand squeezing his shoulder, Johnny looked up into Roy’s understanding blue eyes.

“It wasn’t your fault, Johnny. They were barbarians, murderers. You said yourself they weren’t even human. Don’t blame yourself.” A minute went by with no comment from Johnny, then Roy said, “I’m sorry about James.”

Johnny looked away and sighed; somehow just that one little comment from Roy, that one little acknowledgment was comforting. He finally said, “Thanks. I am too. He wasn’t…a bad guy.” With that having been said, Johnny’s mind methodically tucked that memory back into the place from which it had escaped. As fuzzy as his mind and body now felt, it wasn’t that difficult. He’d had a lot of practice in prison, and now just forced himself to imitate the same self-preservation mechanism he had before. They both took another drink.

Roy tried to think of something to say to lighten Johnny’s mood a little. He was sorry this birthday celebration had turned so dark. “Well, here’s to James.” The toast wasn’t said in a light tone, but more somber. Then Roy lifted his beer bottle; Johnny did the same in slow motion, and they clinked bottles. “I’m glad you two met, and he was able to teach you to fight. Otherwise, I’m afraid that guy in the bar back there would have made mincemeat out of both of us.”

Johnny’s eyebrows raised, and he looked over at Roy, scrutinizing his black eye, swollen nose, and now cut cheek. “Well, I had to do something; your face looked bad enough already before he hit ya. I thought it would be a good idea if Joanne recognized you when you got home.” a tiny shadow of a twinkle was back in Johnny’s eyes. He seemed to be recovered from his mood moments earlier.

“Look who’s talkin’.”

Johnny brought his hand up to his swollen lip and smiled, which caused him to wince. “Hey, you need any more ice?” Both paramedics had held a washcloth full of ice on their respective faces when they had first arrived back at the hotel. Now the wet washcloths lay forgotten on the concrete, the ice long melted.

“Nah, I’m good.  I just got to figure out how I’m gonna explain this to Joanne.”

Johnny chuckled. “You’ll think of something.” He gestured to Roy’s nearly empty beer. “Want another?”

“Why not.”

“Okay.” Johnny started to get up.

“Oh, wait, it’s my turn.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it. You can get the next two.”

Next two?

With that, Johnny drifted unsteadily through the open patio doors and emerged with two more beers. He opened them both and handed one to Roy.

Roy raised his beer bottle in a toast. “Hey, happy birthday, Junior.”

Johnny smiled, and clinked his bottle into Roy’s. ‘Thanks, Pally.” Both men took a long swallow. “Actually, it’s turned out to be a pretty good birthday, thanks to you.” Johnny reached out with his bottle once more and clinked Roy’s bottle again, and they both took another drink. He sat down, shaking his head again, thinking back more numbly now to the scene in the bar. “Man, that Boyd guy sure was a real jerk. Too bad he had to show up.”

“I know.” They both took another large swallow of beer.

“Man, I hope those girls are okay. We just kind of took off and left them.”

“They were out of there before we were, Johnny. I saw them run for the door right after Boyd threw the first punch at you.”

“Oh. But what if her boyfriend came after her? He seemed like a pretty mean guy.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about it, Johnny. I’ve got a feeling you aren’t the first guy Caitlin’s picked up in a bar behind her boyfriend’s back.”

An indignant look came over Johnny’s face. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah. I was talking to her friend a little, and – ”

Johnny smiled, and interrupted, his eyebrows raised. “I noticed that. You know, that girl seemed to dig you, Roy. Too bad you’re a married man.”

Roy snorted. “Yeah, well, she wasn’t quite my type. Anyway, her friend said that Caitlin was a bit on the loose side, if you know what I mean.”

“Loose, huh?”

“Yeah, loose.”

“Huh.” Johnny took another long pull off his beer, contemplating drunkenly what the possible outcomes of the evening might have been had Boyd not shown up.

Roy smiled, knowing what Johnny was thinking. “Ah, Johnny, she wasn’t your type anyway.”

Johnny looked over at Roy in surprise. “What makes you say that?”

“Well, I just think you’d be better off with a woman who’s got a little more up on the second floor. I mean, maybe you shouldn’t go for the girls who are just pretty.”

“Roy, it was only one evening; it wasn’t like I was gonna marry her or anything. Besides,” Johnny said indignantly, “most of the women I date are both beautiful and intelligent.”

Roy cleared his throat. “Yeah, like Valerie for instance?”

Johnny groaned. “Oh man, Roy. You’re never gonna let me forget that, are you?”

“Well, for cryin’ out loud, Johnny, you almost married her and you only knew her for a few days!” Roy gestured flamboyantly in a display more characteristic of Johnny than himself, his words beginning to slur almost imperceptibly. “And she didn’t exactly impress me with her mental abilities, except in how expertly she almost deceived you into marrying her, just so her bratty kids could have a father.” Roy remembered how badly he had felt for Johnny at the time, and how his younger partner’s face had crumbled into disbelief and disappointment upon meeting her children. It had also really angered him what the woman had tried to do to his best friend.

Johnny cringed at the memory of what had almost happened, and how humiliated he had felt when they had shown up at her house to discover that she had three children. Johnny grimaced slightly, trying to save face with a weak comeback. “Well, I know, Roy. But…but Valerie had a lot of other….very….redeeming qualities.” 

“Yeah. Except none of ‘em were inside her head.”

Johnny couldn’t help but smile at Roy’s comment, because he knew it was true. “Yeah, I guess so,” he admitted softly. “Man, she was something though. I may have only dated her for a week or so, but she certainly made sure I was a happy man during that time.” He looked outward dreamily, a small smile on his face.

“I can imagine,” Roy smirked.

The smile grew on Johnny’s face as he recalled exactly how she had made sure he was satisfied. Lost in the memory, he murmured, “Boy, she was good. One time she even – ” Johnny stopped suddenly, even in his drunken state embarrassed at what he had almost told his friend.” The grin on his face had abruptly fallen away.

Several moments passed, and with a sly grin on his face Roy said, “She even…...what?”

Johnny took a swallow of his beer. “Hm? Oh, n-nothing.”

Roy rolled his eyes. “Johnny,” Roy admonished, “I’m not your dad, you know. You can say what you want in front of me. You don’t have to be embarrassed.”

Johnny splayed his hand across his chest. “I’m not embarrassed!”

“Then tell me!”

“Tell you what?!”

“You were going to tell me how great she was in bed.”

Johnny stared bug-eyed at Roy for a second. No words of that nature had ever come out of his reserved, conservative friend’s mouth before. It was so uncharacteristic of him that Johnny was stunned. He took another swallow of beer.

“So, what’d she do?”

Johnny eyed Roy incredulously. “That’s kinda personal, isn’t it? Besides, why do you wanna know?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s something me and Joanne should try.”

Then Johnny burst out laughing, some of the beer in his mouth spewing out.

“What’s so funny?”

“I’ve just never heard you talk this way before,” he giggled.

“Yeah, well, if we weren’t sitting here getting smashed, I probably wouldn’t be. Besides, I am a normal man, you know. You’re not the only one who likes sex, Johnny. I do occasionally get laid myself.”

Johnny laughed again, teasing, “Well, we know for sure you’ve done it at least twice, right?”

“Very funny. You gonna tell me, or not?”

“Well, okay. But this better not ever get around the station.” He shook his index finger at Roy.

Roy held up two fingers and slurred, “Paramedic’s honor.”

Johnny smiled, and rubbing the back of his neck, looked down self-consciously. “Well, let’s just say, it…ah…involved a can of whipped cream.”

Roy’s eyebrows rose into his hairline, and he smiled, “Whipped cream, huh?”

“Yeah,” John laughed. “It was messy….but effective,” his face turned a deep shade of red. He looked over at Roy out of the corner of his eye. “You and Joanne should try it sometime.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Roy said drunkenly.

He clinked his beer bottle into Johnny’s. And with one big swig, both men downed their beers. “Let’s have another.”

Both men set their empty bottles on the ground. Forgetting whose turn it was, Johnny went inside and fished two more beers out of the cooler, then returned to the patio. He swayed as he handed the beer to Roy. They each clumsily removed the cap with the bottle opener and swallowed down some more beer. By now, both men were sufficiently drunk, although Johnny was a couple of beers ahead of Roy.

Roy glanced at his friend, and realized he was happy. The conversation had thankfully now turned more jovial, and they were both relaxed and in good spirits. It felt so good to be away from all the stresses of every day life, even though he missed Joanne and the kids. It was comforting enough to know that he’d be back with them tomorrow.

Sitting here with Johnny was almost like old times back at the station. Right now Roy had never felt closer to any friend he’d ever had in his life. It felt like they were on vacation together, like this whole nightmare with Johnny getting arrested and imprisoned had never happened. Roy was having a good time, and it dawned on him with a jolt how terribly he had missed his friend. Silently, Roy vowed to work much harder on this friendship that he had almost lost, starting now.

Johnny broke Roy from his thoughts. “Hey, Roy?”

“What?”

“You ever wonder about…what would have happened if you hadn’t married Joanne so young? I mean, what if you’d have waited awhile and dated some other girls, you know, just to be sure? Don’t get me wrong, I mean, Joanne’s a wonderful woman, and I know you’re happy with her and all, but, do you ever wonder…what might have happened?”

Roy shrugged and said teasingly, “Sometimes; but then I just look at all the problems you have with women and it makes me glad I got married when I did.”

“Hey!”

Roy smiled at Johnny. “I’m just kiddin’. Actually, no, I don’t think about it at all. I always knew Joanne was the right one. She still is, and always will be.”

Johnny studied Roy with furrowed brows, and feelings of incomprehension and awe washed over him. “Roy?”

“Yeah?”

“How did you know Joanne was the right one?”

Roy contemplated the question, but was unable to give his friend a clear answer. “I don’t know Johnny. I can’t explain it. It just seemed….right, you know?” Roy paused a moment, then added, “I guess I just couldn’t imagine being without her, so, I asked her to marry me.”

Johnny nodded, like he understood, but in reality, he wondered what it must be like to find someone who loved you as much as you loved them, and then vow to spend the rest of your life with that person. Johnny thought he’d been in love a few times, but it seemed like things just never worked out, and he didn’t understand why. For a moment, a sad empty feeling swept over him, and a longing tugged at his heart. It was amazing how alcohol could cause you to feel so up one second, and so down the next. Determined not to let the conversation depress him, he shook it off defiantly, and looked at Roy wistfully. “You’re a lucky man, Roy. Joanne’s both smart and beautiful. I wish I could find someone like that.”

“Thanks, Johnny.” Roy could hear the underlying yearning and the silent sorrow in Johnny’s words. Kindly, he said, “You’ll know what I mean someday. Someday you’ll find a woman you want to settle down with.”

Johnny smiled wanly. “Yeah.” Then, forcing out a more light-hearted reply, added, “And until then, I’m gonna have fun tryin’ to find the right one,” Johnny grinned.

Roy shook his head to himself, wondering how many more women Johnny would have to go through before he found the right one. Before he could finish contemplating that, Johnny spoke.

“Hey, Roy?”

“Yeah?”

“Was Joanne….uh….you know….your….your first?”

Roy looked over at Johnny out of the corner of his eye, and took a swig of his beer, remaining silent.

Johnny took it that Roy had been offended with his personal question, and looked away uncomfortably. “Sorry, I guess it’s none of my business.”

Roy’s reply surprised Johnny. “No, it’s okay, Johnny. You can ask.”

He looked back at Roy. “But you’re not gonna tell me, are ya?”

Roy seemed to be thinking, unsure of what to divulge.

“Hey, if you don’t wanna tell me, fine; then don’t,” Johnny said in a slightly hurt tone, taking Roy’s hesitation to answer an insinuation that he couldn’t trust Johnny not to tell anyone else.

Roy sighed; he hadn’t intended to give the impression he didn’t trust Johnny. He was just a very private person, and divulging that kind of information wasn’t something he did on a normal basis, even with his best friend. “No,” he finally answered.

“No, what?”

“No, she wasn’t…my first.”

At a loss for words, Johnny only nodded, genuinely surprised that his friend hadn’t been a virgin when he’d married, since he’d been so young. Finally, he asked, “Did Joanne know?”

Roy looked at Johnny like he were a Martian from outer space. “Hell, no!”

Johnny grinned.

“Look, we weren’t even dating at the time. Actually, we had broken up for a little while, and it just sort of….happened. And then later Joanne and I got back together. But if you ever say a word to her – ”

“My lips are sealed.” Johnny held up three fingers. “Paramedics’ honor,” he recited, as if he were a Boy Scout.

“Isn’t it supposed to be two fingers, Johnny?”

John squinted at his fingers, trying to focus on them. “Oh. How many’ve I got?”

“Uh, three, I think.”

Johnny put one finger down, now holding up two. “I promise, not a word.”

Roy looked relieved.

“Who was she, Roy?”

Roy smiled rather dreamily. “Her name was Cassandra.”

Johnny squinted his eyes slightly, trying to imagine Roy with someone else besides Joanne. It was impossible. “Cassandra,” he mimicked. “Huh.”

“Yeah. Cassandra.” Roy took another long pull off his beer. “So, what’s your story?” Roy asked.

“My story?” Johnny splayed his hand on his chest.

“Yeah. Who was your first?”

“My first?”

Roy rolled his eyes again. “Is there an echo in here? Yeah. Who was your first?”

Johnny rubbed his chin as he reached into his memory and recalled a beautiful tall, slender red-headed girl from years ago. She had been his first love. He sighed thinking about her.

“What’s the matter? Have there been that many that you can’t remember the first one?” Roy teased.

“Huh?” Then a disgruntled expression came over Gage’s face as he digested what Roy said. “Of course I remember, Roy. How could anyone forget the first time?”

“So, who was she?”

Johnny sighed again. “Her name was Karen Mason. She was a timer for the track team in high school. It took me over a year to get her to go out with me.”

“Oh, so that’s the girl you killed yourself over running the four-forty?”

“That’s the one. We dated all through our junior and senior year.”

“Whatever happened to her?”

“She…went away to college after we graduated. Her parents insisted. I wanted to go too, but….I couldn’t afford it, and I didn’t make the grades to get a scholarship. She wrote to me a few times after she left, but then I never heard from her again.” Johnny recalled how badly his heart had ached in her absence. It had taken a long time for that emptiness to go away. He wondered to himself now what ever became of her.

Roy was too drunk at this point to catch the wistful tinge in Johnny’s voice; his next question tumbling out without inhibition. “So, uh, where did you do it your first time?”

Johnny chuckled, and looked down, shaking his head. He looked back at Roy from the corner of his eye. “In her ’59 Ford Galaxie, at a drive-in movie.”

“At a drive-in?” Roy asked incredulously. “Couldn’t you have found a more private place?”

Johnny shrugged. “We parked in the back; there was hardly anyone there. Besides, her parents were always home, you know?”

“Yeah, the parents were always a problem.” Roy rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I remember those Ford Galaxies. They were boats.”

“It had a nice big back seat,” Johnny reminisced with a smile, his eyebrows waggling once.

Roy eyed Johnny with a big toothy wicked smile, eyebrows raised. “Those cars had a good suspension too, if I remember right.”

Johnny played along roguishly. “Yep. Those springs were heavy duty. Good thing too.” ‘Cause we almost broke ‘em.

Roy laughed heartily, shaking his head.

Johnny downed a big gulp of beer. “Hey, how come I’m doin’ all the tellin’ here? Tell me about Cassandra.”

“We playin’ truth or dare now?”

“No. I just wanna have something on you too.”

“Okay. In a minute.” Roy got up, seemingly having trouble pulling himself out of his seat. “I gotta use the bathroom first, or I’m gonna burst. I’ll be right back.” Roy took one step, then swayed sideways, nearly falling, but was able to recover his balance by crossing one foot over the other. “Whoops,” he said to himself. Heading toward the door, he walked right into the screen, having forgotten to open it. Stunned, he bounced backwards, nearly falling.

“You, ah, need some help, Grace?”

“No,” Roy said indignantly, “I just couldn’t see that you closed the screen door out here in the dark.”

Johnny chuckled at his friend as he disappeared inside the motel room.

Johnny sighed contentedly, and fixed his gaze up at the stars in the sky. It was a clear moonlit night; the air had an almost magical feel to it. He smiled softly to himself, realizing how lucky he was to have Roy for his friend. Tomorrow he would be going home. Home. It was almost too much to consider. There would be so much to get used to again; he knew it would be hard, but didn’t want to spoil the good feeling he presently had by thinking about any difficulties that lay ahead. No, he was going to enjoy the moment. Even though the evening hadn’t gone perfect, he’d had a good time. The dinner had been mouthwatering, he’d danced with a pretty girl, even held her in his arms and kissed her, and the rest of the evening had been spent talking and laughing with his best friend; he couldn’t have hoped for a better birthday. If someone had told him a month ago that this is what he’d be doing tonight, he would have thought they were crazy.

Johnny took a deep breath, filling his lungs with sweet warm night air. He closed his eyes, resting his head against the back of the chair, and folded his fingers together contentedly on his lap. Moments later, his world slowly started to spin, then fade, and he passed out.

Roy jerked awake when he heard a door slam, and almost fell off the commode. He had come in to use the bathroom, and, too wobbly to stand, sat down, after which, his head had slumped and he’d fallen asleep as he’d sat there. Someone entering the room next door had slammed the door, awakening him with a start. He had no idea how long he had been there asleep.

Forcing himself to stand, he swayed dizzily for a moment, then zipped his pants and headed out of the bathroom to find Johnny. He looked at his watch; it was one thirty in the morning. Roy stumbled out to the patio to find Johnny slouched in his patio chair, his legs spread straight out in front of him, head to one side, asleep. Oh, boy. I’ve gotta get him up so we can get to bed.

Roy walked over to Johnny and tapped his shoulder. He got no reaction. A little more forcefully, he tapped it again, still to no avail. The third time, he shook his partner’s shoulder and called out his name. That finally got a reaction, which was that Johnny opened his eyes for a second, said “Wha…?” then fell back asleep.

“C’mon Rip Van Winkle, get up.” He shook Johnny more vigorously, then when Johnny opened his eyes, he slid his hand under his arm and heaved.

With a grunt, Roy pulled Johnny to his feet, which nearly collapsed under him at first. He managed to guide Johnny inside the room, which was no easy feat in his own overly-intoxicated state, and when he had Johnny positioned in front of his bed, eased him down onto it, dropping him when he was about two feet above it. Johnny bounced once, and was out again. Out of breath, Roy pulled his shoes and socks off, took off his belt, then rolled him to the center of the bed and covered him with a sheet. He then pulled off his own shirt and pants, then collapsed into his own bed and was asleep in under a minute.

Johnny’s deep brown eyes were filled with a mixture of determination and anguish as he reached out a gloved hand and encircled the one that was sticking out of the oozing muck.. Rain cascaded off the brim of his helmet, joining the puddles of dark water already made in the mud. He pulled at the desperate clawing hand, and the nightmarish figure that emerged from under the depths chilled him to his core. The gruesome face of James slowly seeped out, his sunken dead eyes bulging, his neck cut open and bleeding hideously, mixing with the mud that ran down his waxen features. Terrified, Johnny jolted backward, but the hand attached to his was strong and wouldn’t let go, squeezing to the point that Johnny’s fingers started to snap and then break, causing him to scream in pain.. As the rest of James’s body surfaced on its own, it loomed menacingly over Johnny, and his former friend’s eyes narrowed in accusation. James pushed Johnny down flat, causing him to sink slightly into the bone-chilling wet earth. Dirty droplets of rain fell into Johnny’s eyes from above.  James’s face lowered to the point where Johnny could feel his hot breath on his face, and the dead man spat, “You killed me. It’s your fault I’m dead. It should have been you, John. Now, you’re going to pay for your stupidity.

“No,” he whimpered, too terrified to vocalize more than a few desperate words. “Please…”

Suddenly five other figures emerged from the depths of the mire, all surrounding Johnny, their bodies dripping wet mud. Johnny’s eyes widened in horror as he recognized the five men who had brutalized him before. The fat man’s fleshy face was even more repulsive; his crooked yellow teeth clenched into a grotesque smile as his hands reached out to touch Johnny. Unable to move, Johnny felt the clothes ripped from his body, and he was helpless to do anything as they turned him over, groping him,  holding him fast; the rest poised behind him to violate him once more…”

Roy thought he was dreaming when he heard a soft moaning coming from the next bed. The first light of dawn was about an hour away, and he rolled over, pulling his pillow over his head, which he now noticed was pounding. The soft “Nnnn,” he heard next escalated into an urgent “nooo,” pulling Roy fully awake. Roy lifted his head and the pillow fell off, landing silently on the carpeted floor. Turning, he could see Johnny writhing, his sheet tangled impossibly around his feet.

Roy sighed, and rubbed at his crusty eyes. He’s having another nightmare. What am I gonna do? The combination of lack of sleep, overindulgence, and uncertainty over what to do caused Roy to hesitate. He watched as Johnny became more and more agitated, to the point where every breath was labored and ragged. Repeatedly, he muttered, “Nnoo, stop,” each time becoming more urgent. “Pleeease,” Johnny begged in his sleep.

Roy felt helpless as he debated what to do. Reaching over, he turned on the light, and scooted to the edge of the bed. His head throbbed mercilessly as he sat up, and his stomach lurched momentarily. “Johnny,” he called.

Roy’s heart clenched in sadness and concern as he noticed the wetness around Johnny’s eyes, his face a picture of anguish and suffering. Johnny was flat on his back, his taut fingers clawing at the bed sheets now, he was practically hyperventilating as his harsh sobs escalated.

“Johnny! Wake up! C’mon.” Roy reached out with his foot and shook Johnny’s bed. He desperately wanted to sit down next to his friend and wake him with comforting words, but after last night’s episode, Roy wasn’t sure how Johnny would react; it’s possible that he could even turn violent. Roy didn’t know. He didn’t think he could take another blow to his face though. Instead, he shook the bed harder with his foot.

Finally, with a loud gasp, Johnny sat bolt upright, his eyes popping open. He was panting and shaking.

“Johnny, wake up,” Roy soothed.

John blinked and his eyes roamed the room. Roy gave him a minute, and gradually, his breathing slowed and he became cognizant of where he was. Sluggishly, he turned his head toward Roy, and when he saw Roy’s face strained with worry, he turned away in embarrassment. “Oh, God,” he shuddered, his shoulders slumping. He brought his hands up to cover his face.

“Johnny? You…okay?”

Johnny ran his shaking hands through his hair. He rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands, wiping away the telltale moisture. Suddenly the aftereffects of the alcohol hit him, and he collapsed sideways onto the mattress, still trembling and now feeling sick. “Oh, God,” he moaned again.

“It’s okay, Johnny. It’s over.” Roy said softly.

Johnny struggled to control himself. After a minute, he muttered, “I’m sorry I woke you.”

“It’s not a problem.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay. You….can I…get you anything?” Roy said in an uncertain voice.

“No,” was the whispered reply.

His foggy mind eluding him of the right words, Roy could only offer, “Why don’t you try to get some sleep now, okay? You’ll be home tomorrow.” Roy tried to say something that would feel comforting to John.

“’Kay.”

Roy reached over and flicked off the light, laying down once more. He felt like shit, and swore he would never drink that much ever again. He hadn’t done anything like that since he was around twenty, and now he knew why.

A minute later, he heard Johnny slip out of bed and make a hasty trip to the bathroom. Shortly thereafter, he heard Johnny retching; the sound of it made his own stomach turn, nearly pulling him from his bed to do it himself. Roy laid there a long time, his emotions at war. His heart told him to get his butt out of bed and go make sure his friend was all right, but his head told him to stay away, that Johnny would want privacy, and his presence would only exacerbate Johnny’s anguish.

Johnny was in the bathroom a long time, and Roy had nearly drifted off to sleep when the dark-haired paramedic finally returned, clad in his underwear.

“You okay?” Roy whispered.

“Yeah,” was the shaky response. Silently, Johnny slipped into bed and lay still. Sleep did not come easily.

Light was streaming into the room through a crack in the vinyl flowered curtains when Roy finally awoke again around ten o’clock that morning. Reaching for his watch on the nightstand, he grimaced when he saw the time; he had planned to be on the road by now. The night before had made that idea an impossibility. Gingerly, Roy sat up, trying to go slow so as not to aggravate the throbbing in his skull. He looked over at the next bed; Johnny appeared to be asleep still. Silently, he dragged himself out of bed and headed toward the bathroom, hoping a shower would ease the hangover.

After several glasses of water, Roy climbed under the soothing flow of the hot shower and let the water wash away his haziness. Feeling slightly better, he dried and dressed, then trudged back out into the room.

Johnny was sitting on the edge of the bed, his elbows resting on his knees, his head bent downward. He had opened the curtains wider, letting in just enough light to softly illuminate the room. He didn’t turn around when Roy approached him and sunk down on the bed a few feet away from him.

“You feelin’ as crappy as I am?”

Johnny groaned and looked up. “You got a gun? Maybe we could just shoot ourselves,” he muttered, in a low and gravelly voice. His face was lined with fatigue, and he kept his eyes averted from Roy’s face, the shame of his actions during his night terror of a few hours earlier still fresh in his mind.

Roy chuckled, then winced from the pain it caused in his head. “I didn’t come this far to find you to have you kill yourself.”

“Guess not,” he grunted.

Roy gestured toward the bathroom with his head. “Go take a shower; you’ll feel better. And drink about twenty glasses of water. I’m gonna go try to round up some aspirin and coffee.”

The thought of even standing up was an arduous one for Johnny, but somehow he managed to pull himself to his feet. On weak legs, he plodded to the bathroom and closed the door. Soon Roy heard the sound of the shower, and with that he left, in pursuit of hangover remedies.

The paramedic partners checked out, and finally, after several cups of coffee, aspirin, and a light breakfast of toast and juice, were on the road again by eleven-thirty. Johnny was glad to see the town disappear behind him, and mentally envisioned everything that had happened the night before staying behind as well.

As the hours flew by, anticipation of his homecoming built; not just for Johnny, but for Roy as well. Both men remained quiet during the drive, each absorbed in his own thoughts of what the future would bring.

For Johnny, his mind was full of conflicting emotions, relief on the one hand, and trepidation on the other. He had dreamed of this for a long time, longing to be in his own home again, sleeping securely in his own bed, and most of all, being away from the horrors that comprised a large part of the last year of his life. For a long time, those thoughts filled nearly every waking moment while he was in prison, until it got to the point where he could no longer imagine what it would even be like to be at home, free to do whatever he wanted. The thoughts and memories he had about his job had faded as well, as the realities of the constant dangers of prison life washed them away. Time in another world had dulled what real life had once been like, and Johnny began having a hard time remembering the feeling of freedom. Prison life consumed  his thoughts; it took all his emotional strength just to survive there. He’d run out of room for longings and memories.

In just a few hours he would be home – his home. Roy and his friends had so graciously saved it for him, and taken care of the things he had asked them to. The fact that they had never given up hope floored Johnny, when he himself had lost hope. He would never forget what they had done for him, and somehow, he was going to find a way to thank them and pay them back.

As they sped down the highway, Johnny tried to envision what his house would look like, and how it would feel to actually be there again, to place his hand on the door knob, and open it. What would it be like to be able to walk inside there again? Would the house be musty and dank from being closed up for so long? Would the weeds and grass be overgrown? No, he was sure that Roy would have taken care of making sure the lawn was mowed.

He couldn’t wait to be alone. It was something he had always relished, and that small luxury had been missing in his life for quite some time. Just being able to go to the bathroom and shower without others eyes watching him would be a huge relief.

There were quite a few things he would have to take care of when he returned, but as soon as he got everything straightened around, he planned to leave, for he craved solitude. There was no better place to find that than the woods and the mountains. The first thing on his agenda would be to pack up his camping gear and get away from everything – especially human beings.

But what after that? Logically, he knew he had to go on with his life, pick up the pieces and try to put them back together. That’s what really made him nervous. He would have to go back to work, and act as if nothing had happened to him. How in the world was he going to do that?

Mentally, he made a list in his head. First, he’d have to talk to Brackett, and make sure he was still certified to be a paramedic after being absent all this time. He really didn’t think that would be a problem. What did bother Johnny though was the question of whether he would be able to perform his job adequately. At one time, he wouldn’t have hesitated to say that he could. But now, well, there should be no reason why he couldn’t, but for some reason he felt nervous. How would  he feel working so closely and personally with people? These past few months had conditioned him to despise being touched, at least, by any man. How was he to cope with working closely with other men every day, sometimes shoulder to shoulder, sometimes enclosed in very tight spots? Would it be different being that it would be his friends around him? Would they feel non-threatening? Or would it just be too uncomfortable?

Admittedly, Johnny’s main concern regarding work was the fact that he was having frequent nightmares. How was he going to sleep in a room full of men when he was waking up screaming at night? The thought of their stares and scrutiny made Johnny cringe; the humiliation would be unbearable. Captain Stanley would make him see a shrink if that happened more than a few times, which, given the track record of the last few nights, was likely. A shrink! Well, that would be even more unbearable. A shrink would force Johnny to talk about what had happened, and that was unthinkable. He had worked so hard to carefully place those horrible episodes far away, never to be examined again, and a shrink would make him bring it all out into the open. What good could it possibly do to talk about it, other than to make his life miserable?  But it was obvious that the terrifying memories were making their presence known without his permission – at night. He had no control over that. Maybe he would have to see a shrink, or, maybe with time the dreams would dissipate. That’s what Johnny hoped for the most right now, as he analyzed his fears. All he wanted was for everything to be back to normal. The problem was, he didn’t know if his life could ever be normal again.

Roy’s mind was inundated with unanswered questions and uncertainties as well. On the one hand, he was ecstatic that things had worked out the way they had, and the luck that had befallen him in finding Johnny. He was still having a hard time believing everything that had transpired, both the good and the bad. If HE couldn’t believe it, then how must Johnny be feeling? How was he going to handle the next few months of his life?

One of Roy’s main concerns was about Johnny returning to work. Johnny had always loved his job; it defined his life in a way, and it was something Roy knew he would need back in order to feel complete. It was obvious that Johnny was physically capable of doing the job. If anything, Johnny was stronger now than before. That was evidenced by his larger muscles and more toned body, a result of the physical training he had received from James. The question was, would he mentally be able to handle the stresses and situations that the job demanded?

Roy had an analytical mind, and now he tried to reason out the odds of Johnny making a smooth return to the job, or even just to every day life. Mentally he went through the dirty laundry list of atrocities that he knew Johnny had experienced in prison. His friend had been beaten, tortured, raped, and humiliated. He’d witnessed at least two gruesome deaths, maybe more, and felt responsible for one of them. He’d had other life-threatening episodes, and who knew what else had happened that would never be mentioned, so Roy knew that the amount of anxiety Johnny must have endured just trying to stay alive must have been extremely taxing. Probably so taxing that he really hadn’t been able to deal with everything that had happened to him while in prison. All his mental energy must have been spent just surviving. Like a man stranded in a desert for days who can only focus on putting one foot in front of the other, his whole world narrowing to one step. 

Even one of those events by itself would be enough to cause tremendous stress to a normal human being. Experiencing all of them was unimaginable. On top of all those things, Johnny had been emotionally strained before he’d ever even set foot in prison.  How in the world would he ever cope with all that?

It was obvious to Roy that Johnny was experiencing a great deal of turmoil; the nightmares alone proved that. Johnny’s tortured subconscious was the outlet his mind used to deal with all he had gone through, those things that he kept carefully hidden while awake. While Johnny put up a convincing front, Roy suspected that’s exactly what it was. Not surprisingly, he’d noticed a definite change in Johnny’s behavior from the old familiar one he used to know. In the past few days since the two friends had been reunited, Johnny’s moods had swung from overly enthusiastic to extremely withdrawn. While being overly enthusiastic was a quality Johnny often exhibited, Roy suspected he was just faking it, using it as a distraction to cover up his true emotions, so that he would appear ‘normal’. With the exception of the previous night, most of the time it didn’t seem genuine, but more forced. Roy had gotten to know Johnny well enough over the years to recognize that his partner had never been very good at camouflaging his feelings, and when he tried, it might have fooled others, but it was usually easy for Roy to see right through his attempts. Now that he was out of prison, Roy often noticed Johnny staring into space, or simply remaining somber, his face frozen in a desolate and lost expression. Roy noted with dismay that it was the expression John had on his face right now.

Of all the trauma that his dark-haired friend had experienced, Roy thought the rape would probably be the hardest for Johnny to deal with. He knew if it were himself, it would be. Just knowing the type of man Johnny was, and how important his self-image of masculinity was, the devastation of being sexually molested by a male, and not just one, but five, would be a severe blow to his confidence and self-esteem, not to mention his state of mind. Roy didn’t know much about male rape; it wasn’t talked about or studied, and as a paramedic he’d never encountered treating a male who had been sexually assaulted. Since there were no written rules for dealing with this type of abuse; he was somewhat at a loss at how to help Johnny with it.

He did, however, have a basic knowledge of how women were sometimes affected by rape; of course, not every woman reacted the same way, which made it all the more difficult for even a professional to help a rape victim. But studying it had been part of his paramedic training, and he had to assume that some of the aftereffects women suffered would also be suffered by a man in that same situation. One difference however, was that usually women were raped by a man. That was bad enough, but to have the rape be a homosexual act and have it happen to someone who was very much at home in their heterosexual skin could be even more devastating. The victim would not only have to deal with the violence of the rape, but also the stigma of enduring a homosexual act committed against their will. In his mind, Roy couldn’t imagine Johnny experiencing anything more appalling. 

Roy went through the list of some of the things he knew could be symptoms of the effects of rape upon women. He ticked them off in his mind:  depression, withdrawal, self-blame, anger, mood swings, nightmares, along with difficulty sleeping, anxiety, and fear. He had already seen Johnny exhibiting some of these behaviors. Something John said about James the night before stuck in Roy’s mind. He’d said that James was dead because of him, because he’d been careless and stupid. Johnny was blaming himself for his friend’s death, even though the thought of it was ridiculous, and Roy wondered if Johnny would blame himself for being raped as well. Would Johnny be questioning his strength and inability to have fought off the attack as he did with James? Many times women blamed themselves for being raped. If a woman could feel this way, why wouldn’t a man?

Roy was thankful now for initiating the conversation the two of them had had last night after getting drunk. He hadn’t really planned it; it had just sort of come out, but the raunchy discussion they’d had about past girlfriends gave him some hope about his friend. Johnny didn’t seem to be uncomfortable talking about women sexually at all, which was a good sign in Roy’s opinion. Roy hoped that it would reinforce to Johnny that his masculinity was still intact. Probably the little interaction that Johnny had experienced with the Caitlin girl was a positive thing.

Well, they would both find out soon enough. As Roy passed under the “Welcome to California” sign, he happily turned to mention it to his friend, but remained silent when he saw that John was asleep. Sighing quietly, the one solution that Roy had been pushing away, persisted in his mind, and that was that once settled back at home, Johnny should certainly seek a professional to help him cope. The only problem with that was that Roy knew Johnny would resist that option adamantly. Roy felt overwhelmed realizing that he alone was probably going to be the one to have to shoulder the burden of helping Johnny emotionally. Johnny wouldn’t open up to anyone else, and likely wouldn’t even open up to Roy. As Roy contemplated this, another thought came to him. If Johnny refused to get professional help, that didn’t mean that he, himself couldn’t talk to someone. Maybe Roy could seek out a therapist who could help him help Johnny. Yes, that’s what he would do. He would encourage Johnny to get help, whether it be from a shrink, or just by talking to friends, and in the meantime, Roy would get his own help so that he could better deal with the situation. The department had a psychologist on staff that he could talk to. He felt he owed this much to his friend. Now at least he had a little hope that maybe someday, Johnny’s life would get back to normal.

It was late afternoon when Roy’s truck turned onto Johnny’s street. It was a beautiful day; the cooler air was more than welcome, and the skies were actually blue today instead of smog-colored. Roy saw Johnny’s house come into view and smiled when he pulled into the driveway and looked up on the front porch.

He shut off the engine and turned to Johnny, who was just waking up. John’s eyelids fluttered open and he blinked several times, his eyes focusing first on Roy as he turned his head toward him.

“Johnny?” Roy turned to look out the windshield and nodded toward the house. “You’re home.” The words were tinged with relief and spoken with a reassurance that everything was all right now.

Johnny’s head whipped around and he stared at his house, his mouth dropping open slightly as he caught his breath. He sat perfectly still, but felt his pulse quicken as his heart filled with emotion at the sight.

A million thoughts whirled through his mind at once, and he felt moisture building in his eyes. Blinking it away, he open the truck door and slowly stepped out, not quite believing that it was all real.

Roy got out and walked around the front of the truck just as Johnny was taking his first steps toward the house. Johnny stared out across his front yard in astonishment. The grass was not only lush and green, but neatly cut and edged as well. Bright red geraniums and white impatiens were thriving in all the garden beds and around the trees, surrounded by fresh mulch. It looked better than when he had lived there.

A figure who had been sitting on the front porch now stood up, and nervously slid his hands into his pockets. He took a step forward.

Roy smiled wide as he saw Chet take a hesitant step in their direction. Johnny’s expression registered surprise as he recognized his Phantom friend, and then a tiny smile materialized on his face.

Johnny and Roy closed the gap to greet their friend. “Hey, Chet,” Roy greeted. “What are you doing here?”

Chet smiled a self-conscious smile and shrugged. “I’m the welcoming committee.” He looked at Johnny hesitantly, trying to evaluate the demeanor of his friend. Johnny looked tired and worn – and older. Chet offered him a genuine smile and said, “Hi, Johnny.”

“Chester. How’re you doin’, man?” Johnny said softly.

“I’m good, John.” Chet’s eyes squinted as he took in his co-workers’ appearances. “But, you two look like a pair of bookends.” Roy had a cut on his cheek, surrounded with colorful bruises which were moving toward his eye, and his nose was swollen. Johnny’s cheek and jaw were also bruised, and his lip was cut and swollen. Chet looked at them, wondering what in the world could had happened, hoping it wasn’t something dark. Applying his usual knack for lightening a situation with humor, he asked, “Gage, what kind of trouble did you get Roy into?”

Johnny snorted and Roy smiled and answered. “Let’s just say it involved a female and her jealous boyfriend.”

Chet nodded knowingly. “Ah ha; I should have known. Sounds like an interesting story.” He turned to Roy, ready to hear the story, hoping it would relax his nervous-looking dark-haired friend.

Roy put him off, saying, “We’ll save the details for another time. Johnny? How about we go inside?”

John nodded slowly, turning and taking one more look at his yard. “O-okay.”

“It’s unlocked,” Chet informed them.

This bit of information didn’t seem to even phase Johnny as he reached out, grasped the door knob, and turned it. His hand lingered on it a moment; the cool, smooth brass orb felt just the way it always had, and just that tiny bit of familiarity felt comforting.

They stepped inside. Johnny looked around. The house was just the same as he had left it. It was clean; not a spec of dust was anywhere. The windows were open, allowing a soft breeze to sift through the rooms, giving it a fresh smell, not the musty odor John expected from a house that was closed up for a long time. He scanned the living room, and the first thing he saw was large sign over the fireplace mantle. It said ‘Welcome Home Uncle Johnny!’, and had obviously been made by Roy’s kids, from the looks of the crayon designs on it. A large vase full of colorful fresh flowers sat on his coffee table, and surrounding it were dozens of cards, all with his name on it. A couple of small packages wrapped in brightly wrapped paper were there as well, adding to the cheerful flavor of the room.

Johnny turned to look at his two friends; he was at a loss for words, but the expression on his face bespoke his emotions.

“Well, Johnny, you should be all set here to move back in.” Chet’s eyes rolled up as he tried to remember everything he wanted to tell Johnny. “We’ve got your water, gas, and electricity turned back on. Your mail service should start tomorrow, along with your newspaper. Cap and the guys all wanted to be here to welcome you, but we thought you’d be home yesterday when we all had the day off, so today everyone’s working.”

“What about you, Chet?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “The Phantom needed a day off. Oh, yeah. Roy’s, Cap’s and Mike’s wives all stocked your freezer full of dinners for you to eat, and the fridge is full, so you don’t have to go to the grocery.” Chet smiled, pleased at the impact he was having on Johnny at all this news. “There’s even some cold brews in there if, ah, you guys want to celebrate Johnny’s homecoming.” Chet’s hopeful raised brows fell when he saw both his friends look toward each other, their faces suddenly turning  a pale shade of green, their expressions nauseated. “What? You don’t wanna celebrate? I even sprung for Lowenbrau!”

“Ah, Chet,” Roy explained, not wanting to disappoint his friend, “we’re just…not in the mood for any beer today.”

Chet’s face lit up in understanding. “Oh, I get it. You guys tied one on last night, eh?”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” Roy confirmed. “It was Johnny’s birthday.”

Chet looked disappointed. “Well, I’m sorry I missed the celebration.”

“Ah, you didn’t miss much,” Johnny consoled. “Hey, if you want a beer, don’t let us stop you.”

“Well, okay. You guys want a soda or something?”

“Sure, Chet. That would be nice.”

“Okay. I’ll be right back.” Chet left them and went off to the kitchen to fetch their drinks. It seemed weird to Johnny having Chet in his house serving them.

Just then, the feeling of something soft bumping into his ankle startled him, and he looked down. Astonished, he exclaimed, “Pumpkin!” John reached down and picked up the big orange tabby cat, gathering her into his arms. The cat purred as he scratched her behind the ears. Johnny gave the cat a small hug, burying his nose in her fur a moment. It felt good to be holding her; she always smelled so good. He looked up at Roy. “Did you say Bob took care of her?”

“Yeah. He brought her over yesterday when he found out you were coming home.”

Chet walked back into the room juggling two glasses of soda and a beer for himself.

“How did he know I was coming home?”

Chet answered for Roy, after hearing the tail end of the conversation. “Roy’s been calling home keeping us posted. Like I said, we thought you were coming home yesterday, but then we found out Roy’s truck broke down, and that you’d be a day late.”

“Oh.” John had been unaware that Roy had been making phone calls during their time together. For some reason, it had never occurred to him that Roy would be needing to call home to his family every day. He guessed he was just so caught up in himself that he didn’t think about it.

Chet raised his beer in a toast, and Johnny let the cat down and picked up his soda.

“John, happy birthday, babe.”

The three clinked glasses and drank; Johnny had trouble swallowing his past the lump in his throat. “Thank you,” he said softly. “Thank you for everything – both of you. Chet,  Roy told me what you did while I was gone, how you raised all that money to help me. I don’t know what to say; ‘thank you’ doesn’t seem like enough, but it’s all I got. I can never repay you guys.”

“Johnny, I told you, we don’t want you to repay us.”

“That’s right, John. We’re just glad you’re back.” Chet stuck his hand out and Johnny took it. “Welcome home, man.” Chet shook his hand once, then pulled Johnny into a bear hug. Though he felt Johnny stiffen at his touch, he gave him a few quick pats on the back. “I missed you, man,” Chet said sincerely, then released him.

It was an emotional moment, but Johnny managed to choke out, “I missed you guys too, more than you know.”

All three remained silent for a moment, and the two friends could see that Johnny looked a little overwhelmed with everything as he stood there woodenly, staring around the room as if he’d never seen it before. Roy decided that the best thing for his friend right now would be to give him some space and time alone to unwind and try to deal with being home again. “Well, Chet, let’s get out of Johnny’s hair and let him enjoy being home.”

Chet looked at Johnny uncomfortably for a moment, feeling a palpable tension emanating from him caused by their close contact moments ago, and decided that Roy was right. They needed to leave their friend alone. “Right, Roy. Let’s go.”

Johnny was torn again. Part of him was scared to let them go, for their presence offered not only comfort and security, but close companionship, that which he had been missing for so long. Another part wanted them to go so that he could indeed be by himself; he needed time to absorb everything that was happening, and sort out everything that had happened. He needed quiet time to reflect, to gather himself. However, the depth of gratitude he felt for all they had done overrode his own feelings and needs at the moment, and he tried to stop them as they turned to leave, not wanting them to feel unappreciated. “Hey, you guys don’t have to go.”

Roy smiled at his friend. “It’s okay, Johnny. I think you deserve a little time alone, and besides, Joanne’s expecting me.”

Johnny nodded and followed them back out onto the front porch.

Chet headed out first. “Johnny, it’s good to have ya home. You take care; stop by at the station soon, would ya? Everyone wants to see you – the Cap especially. He wants to talk to you about coming back to work.”

“Okay, Chet, I will.” He followed as Chet climbed into his car, and walked up to the driver’s side window to say good-bye one last time. “Thanks again for everything, man. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem.” Chet smiled and backed out of the driveway. He waved as he drove  away from the house.

That left Roy and Johnny standing alone together in the front yard. Johnny gestured to all the flowers. “Man, I can’t believe this.”

“Looks like the guys were busy while I was gone. Chet really outdid himself this time,” he said smiling.

“You all did,” Johnny said seriously. He took a rather shaky breath full of uncertainty, and once again he was at a loss for words.

“Well, I guess I’ll be heading out.” Roy took a step toward his truck.

“Roy,” Johnny started.

Roy turned, and seeing the expression on his best friend’s face, held out his hand, which Johnny took. Both men looked at each other for a long moment, each filled with a wide mixture of emotion. At that moment, almost like osmosis, an understanding flowed between them, for each could perceive in the other’s eyes an awareness of how the other was feeling. “Welcome home, Johnny.” Roy’s blue eyes gazed warmly at his friend.

“Thanks. It’s…good to be back.”

Roy opened his truck door and climbed in, then turned the ignition. “If you need anything…”

John smiled. “I’ll call.”

“Good.” Roy threw the truck into reverse, then looked back at his best friend one last time. “Hey, why don’t you come over for dinner tomorrow night – if you feel up to it. Joanne and the kids are dying to see you.”

Johnny nodded. “That sounds great, Roy; thanks – again.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

“Bye.”

“See ya.”

The truck rolled backward down the driveway, and Johnny watched until it disappeared down the road. He stood rooted to his spot a long time, then finally turned back toward the house.

That’s when he noticed it. Down at the end of the long driveway sat his Rover. So stunned was he to see it, his mouth dropped open, and he walked quickly toward it.

The white truck was freshly washed and waxed, and gleamed in the late day sunlight. Johnny touched it gently, running his fingers over the cool smooth metal. He knew it was ridiculous, but at that moment, he almost felt like hugging that car, for seeing it again was like seeing an old friend – a friend that he never thought he would see again. He walked around and opened the driver’s side door and slid in behind the familiar steering wheel. He looked up at the paramedic/firefighter sticker in the corner of the windshield and was filled with a longing. Sighing, he shook his head to himself, amazed once more at what lengths his friends had gone to for him. For him. It was still so hard to comprehend everything they had done on his behalf. What did I do to deserve all this? I mean, do they really feel that strongly about me? Why? Is my life really that important to them? A voice from somewhere else inside him repeated something Roy had said. They’re your brothers. That’s what brothers do for each other. Each of us would have done the same for the other. Roy was right, he realized. That’s why this job is so special. My co-workers are more than just friends – they’re family. You’re a lucky man, Gage. Lucky. Yeah, I AM lucky.

Johnny climbed out of the Rover and went inside. For a while he was unsure of what to do, and he looked around hesitantly. He wandered into the kitchen; the awareness that he and Roy had eaten next to nothing all day, nursing their upset stomachs, was causing hunger pangs.

A fresh can of coffee on the counter right in front of him looked appealing, and he reached for it. He pulled his kitchen drawer open in search of the can opener. The fact that it was right where it was supposed to be offered him a small reassurance. Snatching it up, he opened the can, enjoying the spicy aroma of the coffee beans. As he was inhaling, a sudden noise made him jump, and he whirled in panic, his eyes darting frantically about, looking for the source of the disturbance. His heart rate slowed to a more normal rate as he saw the orange culprit scamper away.  Pumpkin had knocked her empty plastic food dish off the counter behind him. Running a shaky hand through his hair, he told himself to calm down. God, he was like a skittish kitten, jumping at every sound. With chagrin, he wondered if he would be like this the rest of his life.

He continued to think as he mechanically made the coffee, weighing what had just happened with the cat. Johnny knew that prison had changed him; there was no denying it. He felt different inside now. A lot of those differences were negative – the nearly constant fear, the depression, and self-loathing he now often felt were just some of them. The events that had taken place in the prison would be forever carved into his memory; and those events had inevitably and uninvitingly left scars that might be too deep to ever heal. Johnny knew that every experience one had in life shaped you as a person, and that you had to play the hand you were dealt, whether good or bad. In the end, it was what you made of what you were given that determined the kind of man you were. Johnny wondered if all this had made him stronger, or weaker.

The last eight months of his life had been hell, but the thought occurred to him that maybe it had all happened for a reason. He snorted to himself, trying to talk himself out of that idea. But what if it was true? Had it been some Higher Power’s plan to make him suffer all the atrocities he had experienced in prison for some purpose? Why? Did he need such a jolt as this to make him appreciate the things in life that he normally took for granted? Or maybe it was deemed necessary to find an extreme way to open his eyes to things he was neglecting. He sighed. Why would some Higher Being want him to suffer so? Hadn’t he suffered enough in his life? After all, he’d lost his whole family before he’d even turned thirteen. After that, he’d had no one, until his aunt had taken him in nearly two years later. Slowly, he had pulled it together and made a respectable life for himself and established himself in a career that truly meant something to him, something where he thought he was making a difference to others. Slowly, friendships had formed, though it had taken many years to feel the level of comfort he had achieved, and to actually feel a part of a family once again. That had almost been taken away from him again. At least he thought it had. Now it seemed that though he had been far away, his friends were, and always had been, with him.

The coffee pot filled while he was contemplating, and so he poured himself a cup and decided to relax with it before eating. To him, coffee was a comforting drink, one that he had been deprived of for many months, and he thought it might ward off some of the fatigue that had set in so he could make it through the evening without falling asleep. Walking to the sofa, he sank down into the soft cushions, relishing the luxury. Nearly everything he did now triggered a newfound appreciation for even the simplest things in life, things that he had always taken for granted before he had lost his freedom. No more, he decided. He reflected on the changes he might make in his life now that he was back, now that he had been given a second chance. No more would he take anything for granted – especially the people in his life that were special to him. With determination, he vowed he would work hard in the future to earn friendship, instead of expecting it to always be there. A yearning to prove his allegiance and devotion started to grow from deep inside himself, and he felt an obligation to pay back his friends’ loyalty – especially to Roy and Chet. It had always been true that Johnny was willing to lay down his life for his friends, yet now, he felt more strongly about it than ever. From now on John Gage was going to be a different man – a better man,  a more considerate and generous man, a better friend, a better everything. Life was too short.

He sipped his steaming coffee, enjoying the wonderful flavor of the brew he had so craved in the past months. Leaning forward, he set the cup down, and inhaled the sweet scent of the flowers sitting in the center of the coffee table. What are those? Daisies? Lillies? God, they’re beautiful; I’m gonna have to figure out what kind of flowers these are. I’ve never really noticed them before. He caught a glimpse of a card attached to the vase, and pulled it off, opening it. It was from Dixie, and said,

‘Johnny, I am so grateful that you have come home safely. We’ve all been thinking about you, and hope you’ll be back at work soon. Take care of yourself, and stop by to see us when you can. We’ve missed you. Love, Dixie’.

 He closed his eyes, and brought the small card up tenderly to his face, touching it to his cheek where she must have held it and catching the soft scent that lingered on it – Dixie’s scent. That triggered such a strong longing to talk to her that he almost got up and called her. Not today, he told himself, maybe tomorrow.

He laid the card down in his lap, and reached for one of the many others on the table. It was from Kelly Brackett, and held similar sentiments, though not as feminine sounding. He opened one after the other, each bringing a new smile to his face, and a new amazement grew with each one as to how many people he seemed to be important to. Each card was heartfelt, and sincere in its wishes for good luck and relief that he had made it home safely.

Pumpkin had climbed up into his lap, and sat contentedly purring as she washed a paw. He looked around him, at all the cards of well-wishes, and felt a warmness growing inside. He knew that life might have some difficult moments in store for him in the future, but somehow just knowing he had his friends by his side, he felt some of the burden lighten just a bit.

It was so good to be home.

~~~~~~~~ The End ~~~~~~~~~

This is my third story, and it was definitely the hardest to write! Having no knowledge of the prison system or Mexican law, not to mention knowing neither the psychological impact of male rape, nor imprisonment, made this just a bit of a challenge! I certainly learned a lot from my research, and tried to make this as realistic and correct as my limited investigation  allowed. Hopefully I didn’t make too many major boo-boos.

Many thanks to my beta and friends who helped with this story. You know who you are. Please know how much you are appreciated!
 

Lyrics to “Get Down Tonight” owned by KC and the Sunshine Band

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