The Way it Mighta Been
By Marty P.
Roy DeSoto and Johnny Gage were rolling hose at the back of the station while the engine crew was out on a run. This had given Ed Marlow a few minutes to sneak to the squad to study. As he finished a roll, Roy glimpsed Johnny wincing. “Is your hand hurting where the nail got ya?”
Johnny took Roy’s bundle out of his arms and came out of his reverie. “Huh? What’d ya say, Roy?”
“Are you in pain?” Roy said slowly enunciating each word.
Johnny rubbed his injection site without thinking. “No, not exactly.”
By now Roy was used to Johnny not making sense even after his partner issued an explanation. He continued working but saw a range of emotions cross the other man’s face and then Johnny kicked his leg out as if something was attached to it. “You okay?”
“Roy, if that last run had turned out differently I mighta been getting rabies shots.”
“What happened?” Roy crossed his arms and made eye contact with Johnny.
The scene rushed through Johnny’s mind. “I was so intent on getting that thief I ran right through a yard with this gigantic watchdog, not realizing he was there. I had just decided it wasn’t worth chasing the mugger since I’d retrieved the lady’s purse when a serious looking Doberman made his presence known. Roy, I didn’t have any energy to try to find a way to escape.”
“Well, what’d ya do?”
“My mind was going 90 miles an hour. Should I run? Should I stand like a statue? Should I call ‘here boy’? Was there anything around I could bribe or distract him with?”
“Well, what’d ya do?”
Johnny looked sheepish. “Nothin.’”
“Nothin’?”
“Yeah, this Mastiff walked by with his owner and the Doberman, sprang into action to make sure the dog knew he ruled the territory. While his attention was elsewhere I made a running leap over the wall and found my way back to the squad.”
"Thanks for sharing,” Roy said with a slight grin. “Now, let’s get back to work.”
The End
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