Merry Christmas, Darling
Squad 51 and the Rampart staff make a special day for a friend.
Paramedics John Gage and Roy DeSoto walked into the Station 51 office, where Captain Hank Stanley was reading a report.
"We're headed 10-8 to Rampart, Cap," Roy said. "We'll be available from there."
Hank nodded at Roy. "Great."
He turned to Johnny and had a tough time keeping a smile off his face. "You've got enough to carry, there, John?" The young paramedic had a large, gift-wrapped box, a poinsettia plant and a sprig of mistletoe.
Johnny flashed the famous Gage grin. "You bet, Cap!"
Roy rolled his eyes. "Johnny, are you really gonna take that stuff with you?"
"She'll love it, Roy! Besides, Dix said it was all right!"
"Mistletoe, Johnny? What are you doing?"
"C'mon, Roy. Chet's already spent the morning hassling me about it."
"Let's go," Roy silenced his partner. "Maybe I'll pick up for Chet and hassle you while we're in the squad."
"Man, Roy. It's Christmas," Johnny pouted.
"It's Christmas, but you're still you," Roy responded.
"Aw man…."
Johnny and Roy approached the nurses' station. Dixie McCall began to chuckle.
"Dix…" Johnny began.
"You're one of a kind, John Gage," Dixie managed. "Merry Christmas."
Johnny flashed a triumphant smile at Roy. "Well, thank you, Dixie. Merry Christmas to you."
Roy shook his head. "Merry Christmas, Dixie."
"Merry Christmas, Roy. Everything will be ready in a few moments."
The elevator doors opened. Out walked Doctors Kelly Brackett, Mike Morton…and Santa Claus, usually recognizable as Joe Early.
Now it was the paramedics who laughed. "Drew the short straw, Doc?" Johnny asked.
"Santa" Early had a bemused look – at least as much as he could manage behind the white beard. "I'll have you know, Johnny, that I volunteered for this," Early replied.
"Plus, he was the only one who could look convincing in the costume," Brackett chimed in.
While Early fished for a suitable retort, everyone else laughed.
Roy got serious. "How is she, today?"
"Pretty good, in good spirits," Morton replied. "And ready for a festive holiday." He turned to Johnny. "Mistletoe, Gage?"
"Now, Morton, don't you start…."
"All right, everyone, let's go," Dixie interrupted.
The group began to walk.
"Say, Roy, aren't you gonna carry anything else?" Johnny asked Roy, who had only the Handi-Talkie.
"Why? You're doing such a good job of it," Roy responded.
"You're a regular Bob Hope today…." Johnny muttered.
Polly Hawks sat in Room 324 at Rampart, looking at the black-and-white picture of her late husband, Horace.
"Well, Darling, another Christmas without you," she mused. "I suppose I could have picked a better place."
Horace Hawks had been a fireman at Los Angeles County Fire Station 7 during the 1930s and 40s. He died fighting a house fire in 1947. He and Polly had no children, and she had never remarried.
But through the following decades, the people of the Los Angeles County Fire Department had remained her "family." Of course, her family had gotten a lot bigger through the years, and included lots of surrogate children, grandchildren and now great-grandchildren. Her chocolate chip cookies, an annual staple at the Fireman's Picnic, had many fans – including Johnny.
Station 51 had responded to the "woman down" call the other day. Polly had fallen from a ladder while clearing invasive vines from the side of her house. She'd suffered a compound fracture of her right leg, which had meant surgery and a Rampart stay.
Roy had been in the ambulance with her. "I'd like to thank you and Johnny for having the good grace not to say that an old woman shouldn't have been on that ladder," she'd told Roy during the ambulance ride.
"Well, an old woman wasn't on the ladder; you were," Roy had replied with a twinkle in his eye.
Polly had laughed. "I thought Johnny was the flirt, not you."
Polly was interrupted from her thoughts by a light tap on the door and Dixie poking her head in.
"Hello, Dixie!" she said as the nurse walked in. "Just having a private Christmas with my fella."
Dixie walked to the side of the bed and looked down at the photograph. "He was very handsome," she said.
"Oh, my, yes," Polly agreed. "He had a wonderful sense of humor. You know, Johnny Gage reminds me of Horace at times, a bit of a rascal."
Dixie smiled and patted Polly's hand. "Well, funny you should say that. That "rascal" and a few other friends are bringing you a Christmas present."
Dixie walked back to the door and opened it. In came the others, with exclamations of "Merry Christmas, Polly!"
"Oh, my! Johnny, Roy and Santa, too!" Polly put down the photograph and put both hands to her mouth in delight.
"Look what I have, Polly," said Johnny, putting down the box and poinsettia on a nearby table and waving the mistletoe. "Roy's been teasing me about this, but you know about the tradition of mistletoe."
"Indeed, I do," replied Polly, blushing. She chuckled as Johnny, holding the mistletoe over both their heads, leaned in and kissed her on the cheek.
"Why Fireman Gage, you're just as much a rascal as my Horace used to be," Polly said. She smiled. "I hope you find that special lady one day."
Now it was Johnny's turn to blush. "You are special, Polly," he replied, emotion in his voice. He looked back at Roy, who now felt a bit embarrassed at the teasing he'd subjected his partner to about the mistletoe.
"Oh, the whole station has a present for you," said Johnny, regaining his composure. He placed the large box in front of her.
"Johnny! Roy! Now, what could this possibly be?" Polly wondered. Both paramedics helped her carefully unwrap the package.
Five Frank Sinatra record albums peeked out at her, along with a small envelope.
"I don't have any of these! How did you know?!" exclaimed Polly.
"We have our ways," said Johnny with a big grin. "Don't forget the envelope, though."
"Oh, of course not. I'm sure the card is lovely," Polly said, and reached to open it. She was charmed by the image on the card cover, of children singing carols. A smaller envelope fell out when she opened the card.
"You all are full of surprises, aren't you?" she asked with a smile, and opened the second envelope.
She gasped.
In front of her were two tickets for Sinatra's upcoming concert at the Universal Ampitheatre.
"Oh, my…..Thank you all so much – and Captain Stanley, Mike, Marco and Chet, too," Polly said.
"They'll be here tomorrow, so you can thank them yourself," said Roy, squeezing Polly's hand.
"You're going to have a lot of firemen jockeying to be your date for that concert, Polly," Dixie said. "And you'll be out of this cast by then, so you'll be able to go."
"It's wonderful..." Polly said. "I'll have to think long and hard."
"Say, Santa, I understand you have a few more things," Johnny said.
"I certainly do. HO, HO, HO!" exclaimed Santa Early.
Polly laughed. "So where is Dr. Early?" she teased.
"He had something very important to take care of," replied Brackett, patting "Santa" on the back.
"Mrs. Hawks, we understand you've been a very good girl this year," Early said. "Because of that, we have quite a few gifts for you."
He brought forward a red sack with various small presents from the staff at Rampart, including house decorations, food packages and more.
"The food will come in handy here, Polly," Johnny joked.
"He should know," Roy added.
Johnny turned to Roy. "Boy, you've just been full of one-liners all day."
Polly laughed. "Don't fight, boys; it's Christmas."
Another knock at the door brought an orderly with lunch. "A special Christmas lunch for our patients," he said.
"And contrary to Johnny's opinion, I hear it's quite good," Dixie said.
Johnny uncovered the tray, which included turkey and stuffing, cranberry sauce, peas and carrots, a roll, tea and a non-alcoholic plum pudding.
"Hospital regulations say we can't light the plum pudding for you, Polly," Dixie said.
"That's all right. It all looks so good. If you'll excuse me…." Replied Polly, who began eating.
As she ate, Johnny sat in his thinking poster, head resting on his fist. "Say, why is it called plum pudding if there's neither plum nor pudding?" he asked.
Early, having removed his Santa hat and beard, chuckled. "The word 'pudding' originally meant sausage," he said.
"Are you kidding me?" Johnny asked.
"I didn't know that, either," Morton added.
"I know that pudding's another word for custard," Brackett added.
"Wherever it's from, it's good," Polly said. "Again, thank you all so much. I was a little down, spending Christmas in the hospital, but you've made it the best Christmas since Horace was alive."
Before they could respond, they heard, "Squad 51, what is your status?"
Roy sighed and responded. "Squad 51, available."
"Squad 51, with Engine 51, structure fire, Main and Carson. Main and Carson. Time out, 13:30."
"Squad 51, 10-4," Roy replied.
"Probably someone's Christmas tree," Johnny said. He clasped Polly's hand. "See you later, Polly. Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas to you boys, and thank you," she said. "And be careful!"
"We will," Roy reassured her.
After they left, she looked at the doctors and Dixie. "I'm sure you have other patients to attend to," she said. "Do they all get this treatment?"
"Of course," replied Early, putting the beard and the Santa hat back on.
"I'll be back for some vitals after you've finished your food," Brackett said.
Polly smiled. "Wonder what kind of blood pressure I'll have after the plum pudding," she quipped.
Morton smiled. "Not as high as you think. Remember, it has no alcohol."
Dixie stayed behind a few moments after the doctors walked out. "So, who's going to be your date for the Sinatra concert?" she asked.
"What about you, Dixie? You like Sinatra, too."
"Well, Dr. Brackett has already asked me," Dixie responded. "How about Johnny?"
Polly laughed. "I think Johnny's more of a Beatles fan," she said. "But I think Rampart's Santa has mentioned Sinatra once or twice-"
"He certainly has," Dixie agreed. "Anyway, Santa deserves to get a present of his own. I think he'd love to go to the concert with you. And Horace will be there in spirit."
"He always is," Polly said. "Thank you, Dixie. Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas to you, Polly. Enjoy that lunch."
After she walked out, Polly picked up the picture of Horace again. She kissed it.
"I think you had a hand in setting this whole thing up – being my guardian angel and bringing me these wonderful friends," she continued, and kissed the picture again. "Merry Christmas, Darling."