MAMA JEKYL AND MRS HYDE
by ardavenport
Siren screaming, Roy turned the squad onto the off-ramp and drove onto the cleared freeway lanes.
On the far side of the center barrier, the morning rush hour moved at a sluggish but steady pace. On their side was open concrete, barriers, LAPD and California Highway Patrol officers directing one line of cars that quickly sped away as soon as they cleared the last patrol car, lights flashing. The squad stopped short of the long semi tractor-trailer lying on its side across 4 lanes of traffic.
A highway patrolman met them as the two paramedics got out of their vehicle and took out their equipment from the side compartments.
The driver of the truck had claimed that a car cut him off, but the officers who pulled him out of the cab thought that he just fell asleep at the wheel. Neither paramedic expressed an opinion. That was police business. The driver's vital signs were normal for an upset, middle-age male with a sore shoulder, bruised arm and a cut lip. When they called Rampart General Hospital on the biophone, Dr. Brackett did not recommend any treatment other than transport to the hospital.
An LAPD officer waved for them to come around the end of the overturned truck and they jogged over to him.
"Oh, man." Gage gaped.
"You said it." Roy saw nothing but miles and miles of backed up traffic. Cars and cars and cars, fretting and angry drivers interspersed among them. Harassed and impatient police, pacing back and forth. A big mess. They walked forward into it, two dark blue uniforms and bright blue shirts breaking away from the black and gray police ones.
All the drivers had either gotten around or stopped when the truck jack-knifed, but they had still rear-ended three and four cars deep. Cuts. Bruises. Multiple complaints of whiplash. But the traffic had been moving slowly and no one was hurt any worse than the truck driver. People complained more about the damage to their cars than themselves. Loudly.
A patrolman and a woman in a pink, green and yellow flowered housecoat and slippers came up to them as they checked the wrist injury of a driver with a green 1971 Ford Thunderbird that scraped its paint on a highway sign and would be very expensive to repair.
"Woman here says that her friend is having a baby in her back seat a few hundred yards back."
Johnny stood and turned to her. "Can you show us?"
"I can take you right there, but you better bring your catcher's mitt because she's having that baby right now."
Roy informed Rampart of this new victim as they hastily packed up their boxes and followed her, Betty Forsythe, to where her friend, Margaret Goodman, was having a baby.
"What about me?" The Ford Thunderbird did not seem to understand their departure.
They hurried with the woman on the shoulder past the lines of cars.
"Excuse me." "Excuse me." "They're working on it, Ma'am." "The police are handling it, Sir." Women in pastel dresses, men in suits and ties, some of the irate drivers looked very displeased to be ignored as the paramedics hurried past.
"It's right up here." They arrived at a beat-up, white four-door Pontiac in the far left lane, a woman's blond head visible in the back seat. Roy ran around to the opposite rear door. Johnny opened the near one.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrgggggggggggggghhhhhhh!!!!!"
"Whoa!" Gage dropped his equipment, his eyes scanning the inside of the car. He grabbed a yellow towel on the floor by the back seat and sat down. The woman already had her knees up, dress pulled back. The towels on the seat under her were soaked.
"Uh, Rampart we've arrived at the scene." Roy carefully slid down onto the seat behind where the woman propped herself on her elbows. "Contractions appear to be continuous."
"She's fully dilated. We can't move her. This baby's coming right now."
"Rampart, the woman is fully dilated." Roy lowered the mic. "Margaret, I'm Roy DeSoto. This is my partner John Gage and we're paramedics with the Los Angeles County Fire Department and we're going to take good care of you."
Margaret, panted. Short quick breaths.
"You're doing real well." Roy moved to support her shoulders.
Betty leaned closer. "She and Steve have been taking these birthing classes together. Doing all kinds of breathing exercises. He was going to be with her for the birth. He's really going to be bummed that he wasn't here for it."
"HE'S GOING TO BE BUMMED!!!!" Pant, pant, pant. "THIS IS ALL HIS FAULT!!!"
Johnny started, suddenly finding himself staring between the petite knees of a mad woman with murder in her eyes.
Pant, pant, pant. "HE DID THIS!!" Pant, pant, pant. "STICKING IN HIS BIG FAT DICK WHENEVER HE WANTED!!!" Pant, pant, pant.
"Now, ah, on the next contraction, and, uh, take a deep breath and, uh, push - - - "
"DON'T YOU TELL ME WHEN TO PUSH. **I** KNOW WHEN TO PUSH!!! YOU MEN!!! YOU'VE DONE ENOUGH PUSHING WITH YOUR FAT FUCKING DICKS - - - AAAAAARRRRRRGGGGG!!!!!"
Johnny saw the baby crowning. "Aaaaah, I got the head. Keep pushing."
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGG!!!!!"
"You're doing great." Roy saw motorists amidst the rush hour parking lot around them. Collecting in groups. Staring. Pointing. "You're doing great."
"Got the shoulders. Just one more push - - -"
Pant, pant, pant. "OH, YOU WANT ANOTHER PUSH!!! MEN!!! THAT'S ALL YOU WANT!!! ANOTHER!!! FUCKING!!! PUSH!!! AAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGG!!!!!"
"Whhhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!"
Roy saw the top of Johnny's head duck down. "It's a girl!"
"Rampart, it's a girl." Roy grinned.
"We heard, Fifty-One."
"It's a girl! It's a girl! It's a girl!" The new mother laughed, giggled, her blond hair flattened to her forehead with sweat. Her voice rising into high pitched happiness, she lifted her head to try to see the baby being wrapped in a yellow towel. "Oh, oh, oh, she's so beautiful!"
Roy saw an open mouth and tiny little hands on a pink, perfect baby amidst the folds of the towel. The drivers among the cars were craning their necks, trying to see over Gage's shoulders.
"Oh, oh, oh, oh! She's so beautiful! She's - - - AAAAAAAAUUUUUGGGGGHHHHH!!!"
"Aah, ah, ah, ah." Johnny turned back - forth - back - forth - put the baby down. "Aaah, Roy." He hastily took his jacket off. "There's another one coming!"
"Uh, Rampart. The mother seems to be having another baby."
"Well, Margaret never said anything about having twins."
"Uh, Ma'am could you stand back a little." Roy waved Betty back.
"I can see the head! Push!"
"I'M PUSHING YOU MOTHER-FUCKING MAN!!! I'M PUSHING!!! AAAAAUUUUUGGGGHHHH!!!!!!"
"You're doing great, you're doing great." Roy kept supporting her shoulders. There were shocked stares from the people among the cars around them and some exclamations of disapproval.
"Keep pushing!"
"AAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!"
"Whhhhhhhaaa-aaaaaaaaaaaa-aaa-aaa-aaa!!!!!!"
Johnny grinned. "It's a boy."
"Uh, Rampart, it's a boy." Roy grinned.
"We heard, Fifty-One. Good job."
"It's a boy! It's a boy! It's a boy!" This time the tiny fists squirmed amidst the folds of Gage's dark blue jacket. "Oh he's so beautiful!"
"Oh, Steve is going to be so sorry he missed this." Betty had bent low again to see the new arrival.
Roy sighed. "I wish he was here, too." But no one else heard him.
"Fifty-One, do you have an ETA on your arrival?"
Roy returned to the biophone. "Uh, negative Rampart. We're pretty boxed in here in traffic, but we'll try to get the cops to move things along for us."
With a big lopsided grin, Johnny held up the perfect, pink baby boy, wrapped in his fireman's jacket.
"Both babies appear to be healthy and the mother seems to be doing fine."
Margaret made happy high-pitched squeals to her children.
"Understood. Transport as soon a you can. Unless you think there are any more coming?"
The grin left Roy's face. Suddenly worried, Johnny looked down between the mother's legs and gulped.
"He's so precious. Hiiiiiiiiiiiiii, it's Mommy!"
#### oo #### oo #### oo #### oo ####
Nurse Dixie McCall listened to an exceptionally animated description, even for Paramedic John Gage, of his last rescue.
"I couldn't believe it! She was cussing us out like a sailor, Dix!" Gage added dramatic hand waving to emphasize the severity of the situation.
"Did you say anything to her about it?"
"I didn't have time!" More hand waving. "I was too busy catching the babies that were coming out of her!"
Roy DeSoto arrived at the emergency department base station.
"Roy! Roy you were there! That woman was cursing at us like, like, like she was possessed!"
"What? Didn't Dixie hear everything on the biophone?"
Dixie opened her mouth to speak.
"It was just Brackett! And Dixie doesn't believe me!"
"Now wait a minute, I didn't say I didn't believe you." Offended, she gave him a stern glare.
"You implied it!"
"I did no such thing. I was just saying that she looked like a very loving mother and they seem to be a very happy family."
"You haven't seen the other side of her! Back in the car, as soon as she had a contraction, WHAM!" Gage slapped a fist into his hand, "she turned evil on us!" He appealed to his partner for help. "Roy! Roy, we get to the hospital fine and her husband and whole family are there and it's all lovey-dovey carrying on over the babies! And that's all Dix has seen!"
DeSoto grimaced, but came to Johnny's defense.
"Well, I've got to go with Johnny on this. She . . . . . got pretty raw back there."
Dixie raised her brows at him. "Really? Well, what did she say?"
Roy opened his mouth. "Uh. . . . "
Johnny jumped in.
"Dix! We can't repeat it! I can't even SPEAK words like that! At least not to you!"
Dumbfounded, she put a hand on her hip and just looked at the excited paramedic who could calmly and efficiently restart a man's heart in the middle of a crisis and unhesitatingly run into burning building to save people. Now completely flustered by a few angry words from a mother in childbirth. And both of them had delivered babies before, too.
She looked to DeSoto, always the more sensible of the two, but he seemed to be smiling to himself about something.
Gage noticed the smile, too.
"What?"
"Oh, I was just thinking. . . . that sometimes having a baby can bring out a completely different side for some women."
Gage looked stunned and then suspicious. His mouth opened in shock.
"You don't mean that Joanne did THAT??"
DeSoto hastily waved away that possibility. "No, no, no, not Joanne. But . . . . for our first, she was really mad at me all the way to the hospital. I couldn't do anything right." He held his hands up helplessly. "She apologized for it later, after Chris was born. But she did the exact same thing for our second."
Gage shook his head in disbelief, dropping his hands in defeat.
Roy patted him on the arm. "Cheer up. It turned out okay in the end. And you got to deliver two this time."
"That's easy for you to say. You still have your jacket. You're lucky she stopped at two. I was going to have to use your jacket if there was another one."
"Oh, now, I'm sure the hospital laundry will be able to do something with it."
Gage made a face at Dixie. She thought he looked like a little boy who was determined not to be consoled about a scraped knee.
"I'll see to it personally. I'll have it ready the next time you're here for your next shift."
He nodded, a hint of a smile returning. "Thanks Dix."
"Got the supplies?"
Gage nodded to his partner, reached over and picked up a box of medical odds and ends from the desk at the base station.
"See you later, Dix." Roy collected his partner with the supplies and they left.
Dixie watched the two paramedics walk down the busy hospital hallway. Gage was waving his hands and talking excitedly again. She shook her head and supposed that child birth could bring out a different side of men, too.
#### oo #### oo #### oo #### oo ####
"Tennis?" Johnny Gage wrinkled up his nose at his fellow firefighter where they sat together over the remains of morning donuts and coffee at the large kitchen table in Station 51. "Who were you playing tennis with, Chet?"
Kelly squared his shoulders proudly. "Ellen Ziskyue."
Gage frowned. Then scowled. "You mean that receptionist at headquarters? The red-head?"
"The very same. What can I say? The woman has taste." He leaned forward, his elbows on the table. "She like's mustaches. Turned you down last week, I hear." The other firemen at the table looked to the clean-shaven man for a response.
Gage pulled back with distaste. "Tennis? Where did you learn how to play tennis?"
"Got some mail for you here, Gage."
They all looked to see Captain Stanley strolling in, holding up a square, pale yellow envelope.
Gage took it. Turned it over. It was made from nice, heavy paper and had an LA address, but he didn't recognize it or the name. Goodman?
Fireman Lopez leaned forward. "Looks nice."
Fireman Stoker grinned. "Looks like an invitation. Got something more to tell us about that red-head, Chet?"
Kelly sat back in shock. "Hey, it's only tennis!"
Gage opened it. Took out the matching pale yellow card.
Captain Stanley leaned over his shoulder to read the curly script. "Oooooooh." He raised his dark brows, impressed.
A big lopsided smile spread across Gage's face. "Well, look at that."
Roy DeSoto leaned over Gage's other shoulder. "How come you get the honors?"
"Hey I was on the business end of things for this one. I deserve a little recognition." He grinned cockily.
The other firefighters got up to look at the card that Gage laid out for them to read.
Mr. Stephen and Mrs. Margaret Goodman
wish to proudly announce
the birth of their new son and daughter
John Gage Goodman
and
Elizabeth Forsythe Goodman
#### oo #### oo #### END #### oo #### oo ####
Disclaimer: All characters belong to whoever owns the 1970's TV show Emergency!; I am just playing in their sandbox.