Gravy, Gratitude and the Guys of 51
Disclaimer: I don't own them, but they do own a piece of my heart. They are friends I've had from childhood so please forgive me for bringing them to the sandbox for a play date. I'm putting them back where they belong now that I've finished for now. I'm not making any money and can prove it. Thanks to the creative geniuses at Mark VII/Universal who brought these men into my life to begin with.
Johnny Gage, the darker of the two paramedics of Station 51 in Los Angeles County, California stood leaning against the counter. He held his coffee in one hand with his free hand crossed over his chest and tucked under the arm holding the cup, his legs crossed at his ankles and surveyed the group before him. They were a sad looking bunch, with good reason. Today was November 25th, 1976, the day when families across the country gathered together and gave thanks for their many blessings. Unfortunately, the group before him had little they felt to be thankful for. They were separated from their loved ones by the bad luck of the schedule, the day had been unbelievably busy involving more than one flaming bird and multiple lacerations and more than a few drunken brawls. It had been a rough, rough day compounded by a fatal MVA where an entire family was wiped out in one horrible moment when a drunk swerved across three lanes of traffic trying to make the off-ramp that was now a mile behind the current traffic. No, this was not a thankful group, not in the slightest and not one man could slight the others for how they felt.
Johnny sighed in only the way Johnny could and not one man took note as he carefully uncrossed his limbs, set his cup on the counter, opened one of the kitchen drawers and removed an item. He used his body to block the view of anyone who might be paying attention as he quickly and deftly shuffled the deck of cards he held in his hands. Tapping them on the counter twice for luck, a strange habit he had picked up somewhere along the way that seldom had any effect, he turned back to the group.
"I know that last run was pretty bad, hell our day has been one bad run after another and I know we are all feeling a little down, but I want to share with you a tradition we had when I was growing up."
"Gage, none of us is in the mood for poker," grumped Chet.
"Chet, just wait a minute would 'ya. It isn't poker. We did this every Thanksgiving as just a way to get everyone around the table talking and thinking about our blessings. I know I don't talk about growing up very often and you guys don't know much about my childhood, but I think you can guess that there were times when there just didn't seem like much to be thankful for. Kind of like today. So we started this tradition. Cap, you're our "dad" in a manner of speaking so you'll start."
"Gage, I don't know…," Cap began to plead his case for not indulging Gage in whatever insanity he was currently trying to spread around.
"Please, Cap, just give it a try, you don't even know yet what you need to do."
"Okay, Gage, but if I don't like it after I take my turn the other guys are off the hook, understand?"
"Yeah, Cap. No problem. Okay, here's the deal. I've shuffled the deck, feel free to shuffle again or cut the deck, whatever, but Cap, you will take a card off the top and whatever number you get you have to come up with that many items you are thankful for and share them with us. Face cards are worth 10 in this case."
"Okay, Gage, pass the deck, here goes nothing."
Captain Hank Stanley took the deck of cards, shuffled several times for good measure then passed the deck to Mike Stoker on his left. Years of working together meant that Mike needed no further instructions and swiftly cut the deck and reassembled it, passing it back to Cap. Cap reached out one hand, almost like he was sticking his fingers into a rat trap, and withdrew a single card. Holding it up for all to see he revealed a seven.
"Seven? Geez, Gage, you couldn't come up with something a little easier?"
Cap blustered a bit, but it had exactly the effect he desired as a few eyes started to look up from the table and a grin was actually visible here and there. Cap thought he could see the wisdom in Johnny's little "game".
"Okay, seven things. One, is obvious, I'm thankful for my beautiful and patient wife."
A general sound of consensus was heard from around the table. The men had met Cap's wife on many occasions and she was indeed beautiful and patient. A firefighter's wife was many things, one of them was patient.
Cap continued, "Two, of course I'm thankful for my kids, they are great kids, couldn't ask for better. Three," Cap was starting to get on a roll now. "I'm thankful for that deck we put in over the summer, couldn't ask for a better place to relax on my days off. Fourth, I'm thankful for my in-laws. They are really good in-laws."
Everyone looked knowingly at Roy who smirked in understanding considering he did not get the luck of the draw in that department. They all felt that Roy could understand just how big a thing that was to be grateful for.
"Fifth, I'm thankful for my dog. He's a really good dog. Doesn't expect much except for food and water, but has the best listening ear in town. Sixth, I'm thankful that I've had so many wonderful years as a firefighter and they aren't over yet."
A few throats got a little tighter with that pronouncement, they all felt the same way.
"Seventh," Cap paused for a breath too long, "Seventh, I am profoundly grateful for the chance I've had to work with the men sitting here at this table with me. I couldn't ask for a better crew."
Nobody lifted their eyes from the table, suddenly the little flecks in the pattern of the table top were the most interesting thing around.
"Cap, I think we all agree on that one," Gage's voice was a little huskier than normal, but steady as a rock and everyone was glad he had said the words they couldn't form at the moment.
Cap's hand was only slightly shaky as he passed the deck to Mike. "You're up, pal."
Mike reached for the deck, took a deep breath and presented an Ace.
"Uh, what's this mean? Is it 11, 10 or one?"
"Sorry, Mike, I forgot about the aces, in this game they are just one, you got off easy pal," Johnny explained.
"I don't know about that Johnny. There are quite a few things I have to be thankful for this year, including Cap's numbers six and seven. Picking just one might be hard. I guess if I have just one thing to be thankful for this year it would have to be the time I got to spend with my dad before he died earlier this year. That time meant a lot to both of us and I'm glad I got it."
Once again, the table was a source of focus as the men thought back to how difficult the past year had been for their engineer. His dad had gotten the cancer diagnosis right about this same time a year ago. He wasn't given much time and Mike took a short leave of absence to spend time with both his parents during his dad's last days. He had been there as his father took his last breath. He thought he would lose it when the entire crew had shown up for the funeral. Their support got him through some of the darkest days he had ever known. It hadn't been easy, but going back to work had been his life raft. The men treated him with the perfect combination of kid gloves and tough love and he was still immensely grateful for their love and support. Everyone understood the level of thanks being offered by their quietest crew member and accepted it without a word added.
Without saying anything else Mike passed the cards to Marco.
"I don't know what I can add to what you both have already offered, but here goes." Marco reached out and drew a three.
"Three, I think I can do three. One, I'm thankful for my mama."
Everyone smiled at that one. They were all thankful for Marco's mama. A constant source of motherly love for all the men on the crew, including Cap, she had saved the day more than once with a delivery of beans, rice and carne asada when the men were too busy to cook for themselves.
"Marco, we're all thankful for that one," Mike said as he gave Marco a gentle smack on the shoulder.
"Yes, my mama is the best. She sacrificed so much for her kids while we were growing up and our lives have all been blessed by her. Second, I'm thankful for my large family. It is wonderful having so many brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles and cousins. It get a little crazy sometimes, but I feel like my life is much richer for it. It makes me glad to come to work sometimes where it is a little quieter."
Laughter rang out around the table. Johnny leaned back in his chair and tried to hide his grin. It was actually working. The mood around the table, while not jolly, was lighter and the laughter was the most welcome sound he'd heard all day.
"Third, I'm thankful for my faith. I don't think I need to explain to you all how much strength I get from my religion. It isn't something I push on any of you, but I think you've all been the recipient of my prayers at one time or another and I don't think I could do this job day after day without my faith that there is something bigger than all of us out there guiding our work. Even on days like today. I might not understand God's plan, but I have a belief in it and hope that our efforts make a difference even if we don't get the outcome we want."
Marco suddenly broke off and the men thought he might have more to say, but understood when he didn't continue. Of all the men Marco was the most open with his faith, but they all shared the belief that there was something more than just themselves at work when they went on duty. They all had their personal examples and reasons for having that impression, but most of them kept those experiences close to their own hearts. Marco was always the one most willing to share and for that they were all thankful.
"Chet, your…" Johnny was cut off by the sound of the klaxons going off.
"Ha, Gage, I'm off the hook," Chet called out as he ran for the engine.
"Hardly, Kelly, game's on hold until we get back," Cap shouted back.
"Ha!" was all that Gage had time for as he slid into his seat, fastened the strap on his helmet and reached for the slip being handed off by Roy. He almost didn't hear Chet's "Aww, Cap", but the fact that he did made his day.
Less than an hour later the men were taking their places around the table again. The call for a kitchen fire had been one more flaming turkey. Now that the normal dinner hour had come and gone they hoped that would be the last torched bird for the year. Now they could just look forward to the larger variety of items that would be set on fire at Christmas. It always seemed to be turkeys at Thanksgiving, but Christmas brought ham, pheasant, duck, goose and prime rib into the mix.
"Chet, I believe you were up next," boomed Cap, trying to use his Captain voice to make sure Chet understood that there would be no argument. "Mike, you've already had a turn, would you mind reheating some of those goodies the wives brought over so we can have our own dinner before it gets too late?"
"No problem, Cap." Mike was one of the better firehouse cooks and Cap knew that he was more than qualified to reheat the turkey, rolls and gravy the wives had taken extra time to prepare just for them. Some of Joanne's homemade cranberry sauce and a salad finished off the firehouse feast.
Chet sat quietly staring at the deck of cards. As he reached out his hand he had a bad, bad feeling about this. He let out a painfully deep sigh as he turned his card to show the rest of the crew.
"A jack. I got a stinkin' jack."
"Hey, at least it tops out at ten, it could be an eleven, if you want." Cap practically growled the words at his reluctant fireman.
"Yes sir. Okay, here goes nothing. One, I'm thankful for my mustache."
"Chet!" The entire table, minus one, admonished.
"Wait, wait guys, I forgot a rule. It doesn't matter what it is, we don't get to judge, even if we think it is ridiculous," Johnny pointedly looked at Chet on the word "ridiculous" just to make his personal opinion known. "What we are thankful for is very personal and if Chet wants to be thankful for a crumb catcher, that is entirely up to him."
"Thanks, Gage. I think. Anyway, I'm thankful for my mustache. I like how it makes me feel. I felt like a child before I grew it, people kept saying I had a baby-face. I don't get that comment anymore. So there," Chet added for good measure.
"Okay, Chet, sorry, go on, you've got 9 to go," Cap taped the table indicating Chet should move it along again.
"Two, I'm grateful for my heritage. The Irish haven't always been appreciated, but I'm very proud of being Irish, my people are hard workers and I'm part of a long line of firefighters."
Heads nodded in encouragement. They all felt Chet had hit on a really good thing to be thankful for. Their nodding heads spurred Chet onward, he was starting to warm to the subject.
"Third, I'm thankful for my camper." Before anyone could make a sound Chet AND Johnny held up a hand to put a stop to it. "Let me explain. That car has been through thick and thin with me. I know you all just see a junker, but it has been with me for a long time. It is incredibly easy to repair and it's paid off. Fourth, I'm thankful for my barbed wire collection."
By now the group was getting the hang of not reacting to Chet's list. He had come up with excellent reasons for each one of his items so far. So, when he paused after saying "barbed wire" he was simply met with a group of faces encouraging him to continue.
"We all have our little hobbies. It's what keeps us sane after some of the days we have. I know it isn't something that you see a lot, but taking time to get out of the house and go looking for a piece to add to my collection is how I keep my sanity and I'm thankful for that."
5 heads bobbed in complete understanding and commiseration. They definitely understood the reasoning behind that one.
"What number am I on?"
"Five, Chet, almost half way," Mike encouraged as he turned and placed the salad and cranberry sauce on the table.
"Five, I'm thankful for our fishing and camping trips. They don't always go as planned," Chet paused for just a moment and they knew they were all thinking about the fishing trip Chet, John and Roy had been on when they had come upon the vehicle accident in the middle of nowhere. "They definitely don't always go as planned, but I enjoy the time spent with you guys away from these brick walls. Six, I'm thankful that you guys haven't killed me yet after all the health kicks I've gotten you involved in."
Chet had to pause this time to let the chuckles die down. "Yeah, I get a little focused sometimes and I know I can be a real pain in the a-"
"Chet." Cap said with warning in his voice. He would tolerate a certain level of language in the house especially when emotions were running hot, but he felt like he had to draw a line somewhere.
"A pain in the derriere?"
"Better."
"I can be a real pain in the derriere, but you guys have really been pretty great about it." Heads were shaking around the table, both in disbelief and laughter.
"Seventh, I'm starting to run out of things here guys. Seven, I'm grateful I don't get latrine duty as much as I probably should?" Chet said it as a question, wondering how this "thankful" would be received.
"Chet, I think that is one of the best things you could be thankful for and don't forget it," Cap said with good humor, gently teasing the man.
"Eight, I'm thankful for Mike's fried chicken and Marco's Irish Stew. Best meals we get around here."
"Here, here," chorused around the table as milk glasses were raised in a toast followed by friendly laughter.
"With the exception of tonight's repast," added Roy, who had been uncommonly quiet all evening. Everyone understood that the bad runs, like the one earlier, hit Roy and his partner a little harder than the rest of them. Dang, it hit all of them hard, but those two had to get up close and personal with the damage. It was especially hard for everyone when kids were involved and the event earlier had all the worst elements. Lots of damage, lots of gore and kids and absolutely nothing that could be done about it all. It wasn't a good day to be a paramedic. The crew was mildly surprised to hear Roy speak and relieved at the same time. It seemed like maybe John had had a good idea for once. This little tradition of his was lightening the mood and helping to relieve a lot of held in feelings.
"Nine, almost done. I'm thankful for Cap and Roy's wives. Without them we wouldn't have this lovely meal to enjoy together."
Another round of "here, here" and raised glasses of milk.
"Ten. Last and most importantly, I'm thankful for the Phantom."
Every last man around the table groaned.
"Hey, John said I get to name anything I want."
Johnny reluctantly nodded his head in agreement and rolled his hand in Chet's direction indicating he should continue.
"I know that not everyone is thankful for the Phantom and I know that sometimes he isn't welcome. You know, he actually works very hard at timing things just right and is always very remorseful when he gets it wrong. The Phantom is an important part of this station though and I'm thankful for the humor he is sometimes able to bring when it is most needed. There, I'm done."
"Chet, you are right, the Phantom isn't loved, but you are right about him keeping things from getting too serious. We'll all try to remember that next time he visits. As long as he keeps it within reason," Cap hastily added.
"Noted. I guess that makes it your turn Roy." Chet pushed the deck towards the quiet, blond paramedic.
"Thanks, Chet. Don't know if I'm ready for this."
"Hey, Roy, just take a minute then, push those aside, let's all dish up some of this wonderful food and we'll start up again in a minute."
Roy sighed, almost in relief. It had been a rough day and he really didn't feel like trying to find things to be thankful for. He sincerely hoped he didn't get a ten. It wasn't that he was an unthankful person, he honestly felt it was just the opposite. He lived his life in "thankful mode". Most days he felt he was a very optimistic person, but today was different. An entire family, wiped off the face of the planet in one fell, drunken, swoop. Kids close to the same ages as his own. He honestly wasn't feeling very thankful, but then he supposed that was the purpose of this exercise. He smiled his little half smile, the one he gave when something was amusing, but not down-right funny, as he realized that once again, his partner, had been more in tune to the needs of the station than anyone gave him credit for. Sometimes his child-like, impetuous and rash partner got things just right and it was surprising when he did, but Roy chastised himself that he really should know better by now. Things stayed mercifully quiet during the meal. It wasn't often that they got to eat an entire meal without interruption and everyone offered up thanks that they were able to enjoy this one from beginning to end without interruption. But, as things often went around the station it didn't last long enough and as soon as the last piece of turkey had left the plate the klaxons sounded again calling the squad to an unknown injury.
Roy and John slid into place, shutting doors, fastening helmets and pulling into the now very dark night on their way to who knew what. Since the engine hadn't been called to tag along they felt they could assume it wasn't too serious and wouldn't need the extra help the engine crew could provide.
As Roy steered the red truck towards their destination Johnny spoke, breaking the silence that had permeated most of their day.
"Pally, I know this has been a rough day. That MVA earlier was the worst. Man, I hate calls like that."
"Yeah, it was pretty bad."
"Yeah, and I know it is hard on you being away from Joanne and the kids on holidays. They really miss you when you aren't there."
"Yeah, me too."
"Well, anyway, what I'm trying to say is, that if you don't want to draw a card I can probably find a way to end the game before you take your turn. Maybe this call will take a while and I can go next and then it'll be lights out when we get back, or maybe…"
Roy held up one hand to silence his partner, he could tell that he was just getting started and could list a multitude of ways he could stall the game if he only gave the word.
"Junior, I really appreciate that, but you know, I had time to think during dinner and I think I'd like to take my turn when we get back. I think what you did today was a really good thing and I don't want to take away from that by not taking my turn."
"Really? Oh, turn here and it should be really close on the right."
"Yeah, really. I don't know if anyone else will realize what you did today or how much it has helped, but I want you to know I did."
"Um, thanks Pal. I appreciate that. Here it is."
The men got their supplies and were greeted at the door by a woman in an apron wringing her hands in its fabric.
"This way guys, we are so sorry to call you out on the holiday, but you'll never believe, come this way, I'll show you."
The woman led the paramedics through a festively decorated home to a dining room still set with china plates, crystal goblets and silver platters. The room was immaculate and smelled divine. Even though they had just eaten themselves the aromas made them hungry all over again. Family members from young to old sat around the table. Some were outwardly angry, some were trying to hide smirks and the youngest were audibly snickering. At the head of the table, right where they would have expected him to be was a handsome and well dressed, middle-aged gentleman, obviously the head of this household. What they weren't expecting was that he was up to his elbows in turkey. Literally. However, and what was most confusing was the bright pink ball of fur wedged between his hands and up to its neck in the turkey. Literally.
The woman started to explain while Johnny started to get a close up view of the problem. "You see, I had just brought out the turkey and set it in front of Howard," pointing at the man at the head of the table. "That's Howard, my husband. I brought the turkey and Howard was just getting ready to carve it when Gigi," again she pointed towards the odd tableau "that's Gigi, she's Aunt Mabel's dog." This time she pointed to one of the visibly angry women at the far side of the table. "That's Aunt Mabel." Under her breath and behind her hand she whispered to Roy, "we told her not to bring the dog, but she won't listen, we were stuck with her this year, nobody else wanted her and that little beast, but it was our turn." Turning back to the group in general she continued the tale of woe. "Howard had just picked up the knife and fork to start carving when Gigi jumped on the table and stuck her head in the turkey. She wasn't happy grabbing a piece, oh no, she wanted the entire bird and just stuck her whole head right in there."
Roy could tell the woman was building up a good head of steam. He placed a calming hand on her arm asking, "so what happened next?"
"Well, Howard tried to pick up the bird and shake the dog out." She pantomimed lifting a turkey and giving it a good shake or two. "When that didn't work he tried to pull Gigi out, but she wouldn't let go, so he…," she had to take a deep breath and get control of her emotions which were swinging wildly from anger, to disappointment, to laughter, before continuing. "So, Howard, sticks his hands up the sides of the turkey trying to get a hold on the dog to pull her out, but now both he and that stupid poodle are stuck fast."
At this, half the table could bear it no longer and let loose with the guffaws they'd been trying so desperately to hold back. The children were the worst and when one small boy fell right off his seat one of the more contained women got up and ushered all the children to the living room where she promised they could watch the Charlie Brown Thanksgiving special until things were settled in the dining room. Roy gave her a nod of thanks and she waved her hand in an "it's not a problem" type way while covering her semi-controlled giggles with her other hand. By this time Roy had to admit he was having a hard time keeping it together too.
The woman started talking again, "We figured since what we really wanted to do was carve the turkey we could just cut them out, but Howard and Aunt Mabel were both worried we would cut a little too deep and well, you understand." She looked at Roy with eyes that were practically begging him to understand.
"Yeah, we understand, better safe than sorry. We'll figure this out and get Howard and Gigi free as quickly as possible. What do you think, partner," Roy addressed Johnny for the first time since entering.
"Well, they are both wedged in there pretty tightly, but the turkey seems to be cooked quite well and all the joints and cartilage seem to be pretty loose. I think I can just start tearing it apart with my hands and we'll see what happens."
Roy turned to the woman "Ma'am?"
"Yes, yes, of course, we should have thought of that. Do what you need to do. I'll go start some spaghetti or something."
"Roy, can you give me a hand?" Johnny had stripped off his gloves and was wiggling his fingers into a very small space around the edges of the very pink poodle.
"Could you just hold on to the body of the bird, create a little leverage for me? Yeah, just like that."
Johnny applied as much elbow grease as he dared and bit by bit the bird started to crumble. With one final, mighty tug, the breast bone pulled away from the rest of the bird. The resulting force practically landed Johnny in a very elderly man's lap, but he caught himself at the last minute. With a bark and lots of angry growls the pink puff ball darted across the table, scattering carrots, rolls and silverware in her wake, right into Aunt Mabel's lap where it promptly left a very nasty grease stain on her blue silk blouse. Aunt Mabel didn't seem to mind or notice as she fussed over her little dog.
Howard picked up a napkin and carefully wiped off his hands and wrists before turning to Johnny, handing him a fresh napkin and shaking his hand.
"Thanks. I can't tell you how good it feels to be free of that bird. Next year Aunt Mabel isn't coming and we are having ham. Can't thank you boys enough, really." He turned and handed Roy yet another napkin and shook his hand too.
No problem, just glad we could help. Enjoy the rest of your meal, sorry about the turkey, wish we could have saved it somehow," Johnny pointed to the huge mess that now littered the platter and table cloth at the head of the table.
"No, none of us want it after that dog had her head in there. Spaghetti is a fine Thanksgiving tradition, in fact I think I'll go see if Helen needs any help. Sam here will show you out," he pointed to a teenaged boy who had been doing a decent job of hiding his snickers during the ordeal. The resemblance between Howard and Sam indicated they were probably father and son.
As John and Roy waved farewell to the group still seated at the table they passed the now quiet children who were engrossed in the cartoon being shown on the television. Both men nearly lost it as they heard a voice in the dining room ask, "Someone please pass the gravy."
Sam did lose it and explained, "That would be Aunt Mabel, she won't care if her turkey is covered in poodle drool, she shares her plate with the damn thing all the time anyway." The young man cast a furtive glance around before turning back to the paramedics. "Sorry, mom and pop don't like it when I use that kind of language, but it really is a damn dog so I'll call it what it is." He smiled at the two men who had come to the rescue as he opened the door to let them out. "Thanks again for the help guys. Guess I'll go see how the spaghetti is coming along, I'm getting really hungry."
"Bye, hope you have a nice rest of the evening," Roy said as the light dimmed behind the closing door.
It wasn't until Johnny closed his door that the two men let loose with the guffaws that they had done very well at holding in.
It was some time before either one could catch their breath enough to speak.
"Damn. Pink. Dog, In. A. TURKEY." John was able to barely squeak out before they started laughing all over again.
As Roy turned the key in the ignition he turned to his partner, "If that don't beat all, the guys will never believe it, not in a million years. A pink poodle inside a turkey. You know, I really needed that call tonight. Someone up there has a wonderful sense of humor. I really needed that."
"I know what you mean, Pal, I know what you mean."
The trip back to the firehouse was punctuated with occasional chuckles and mutterings of "damn pink dog."
Roy and Johnny were both still slightly winded from laughing so hard as they walked back into the day room. The guys had finished cleaning off the table from their own dinner, but the cards still sat where Roy had left them.
"You two up to finishing our game or do you want to tell us about that call first?" Cap queried.
"Let's finish the game, we'll tell you about that call later. Just let me get a cup of water and I'll take my turn." Finishing his task he sat at the table, he pulled the deck closer and drew a card.
"I got a nine. Wow, that's a high card. Nine. Here goes. One, is a given. I am most thankful for my beautiful wife. She is everything to me and I you all know I've loved her since we were children. I would not be half the man I am without her. Two," Roy rushed on, not leaving time for comments, he still wasn't sure how he'd get through this. "Two, for my two children. They are the perfect representation of my wife's and my love for each other. They are sweet, kind, smart and everything I could want. Everything I do, I do for them. Three, I'm thankful for my parents who taught me right from wrong and have supported me in all my important decisions. Four, I'm thankful for the chance I had to serve my country."
This time he paused and noticed the somber looks around the table. Every man at the table had strong memories about the still fresh Vietnam War. It had only been a little more than a year since they had all sat around the television watching as helicopters lifted American personnel off a rooftop while Saigon fell to the enemy. Every single one of them had lost friends and many of them had lost family members. Yet, they all understood what it meant to serve. Chet knew the same type of service Roy had given. They had both been on the receiving end of the hatred many Americans held for those who fought in the war. They had been called names, been spat on and pelted with garbage. It was not a war for heroes and not one that many felt they could be proud of and the scars it left on the country were still fresh.
"I did what I was asked to do and I worked hard to save as many lives on both side of the conflict that I could. It was a horrible experience, but one that shaped the man I am today and I'm not sure I would change it if given the opportunity."
Chet reached across the table and briefly grasped Roy's hand before releasing it again and sitting back down. They all recognized it for what it was. A simple gesture of compassion and understanding.
"Fifth, I'm thankful for the Bi-Centennial celebrations this year. After all the anti-American sentiments that we've lived through for the last decade and more, I am profoundly grateful that I got to witness this country come together and celebrate 200 years of freedom. I'm glad that we are starting to recover from what happened and are starting to look forward again. As long as I live I'll never forget spending the day with all of you at the beach and then watching the fireworks together with the kids. It was one of those once in a lifetime days and I'm glad I got to share it with all of you. Sixth, I'm thankful that I was trained to be a medic. I learned a lot of useful information. Seventh, I'm thankful for the Paramedic Program." Another pause as he gathered his thoughts on this topic.
"I knew it would be important when I heard about it. I knew I was being given a huge opportunity and I knew I needed to make the most of that opportunity. The program is now well established and I think we've done a great job. I honestly believe that every day I come to work I make a difference. That goes for each and every fireman and paramedic on the force, every day we come to work we make a difference. Eighth," Roy reached out his hand and placed it on Johnny's shoulder. "Eight is this man. My partner and my best friend. I will be forever grateful that he walked into my office and asked me all those questions that morning he signed on for the program and that's all I'm going to say on that one. I think you all know how much more I could say."
John in particular was staring extra hard at an imaginary spot on the table, but did manage to raise his hand and cover Roy's hand still resting on his shoulder. All the men knew how deep this friendship ran. All firemen were brothers by profession, but these two seemed to have become brothers by choice. They would have all been surprised if John hadn't been one the things Roy was thankful for.
"Finally, last, but not least, I'm thankful for pink poodles, turkeys and Aunt Mabel."
Stunned faces looked back at Roy as he and Johnny broke down into fits of laughter.
"Men, I think there is more to this story that we haven't heard," Cap offered.
"Yeah, spill the beans guys. Aunt Mabel?"
It took a few minutes for Roy to get his laughter under control enough to tell the story of Gigi, Howard and Aunt Mabel. By the time he got to "pass the gravy" the room was echoing with the laughter bouncing off the walls. Tears were running down several faces as the men tried to get their laughter under control.
"Thanks Roy, John, we needed that. Dang, but if we don't miss all the best calls. Wish they'd called us on that one." Mike was practically whispering, not due to his natural quiet nature, but from lack of oxygen he was laughing so hard.
"Ah, man, John, pal, hate to do this to you, because there is no way you can top that, but your turn," Cap pointed at the deck of cards, indicating it was Johnny's turn to draw.
"Must be my lucky day, only got a six."
Everyone was well versed in Johnny's luck and knew he almost always drew the high card when a low card was needed and vice versa.
"Hum, where to start? First, I'm thankful for my Land Rover. I know, we've already had a car based gratitude, but I love that car. We've been through a lot together. Second, I'm thankful for how I grew up."
As had happened several times already, the men found themselves a little stunned by Johnny's confession. He didn't speak often of his childhood and most times when he did it was to tell about the bad things that had happened.
"I know that probably comes as a surprise to you guys, but it's true. I grew up in circumstances many wouldn't want, but what I had plenty of was love, friends and good, old-fashioned fun. I grew up outside. We didn't have a t.v. to keep me indoors. I spent all my extra time outside exploring. I think you can all see how that carries over to who I still am now."
Johnny looked at them with his half smile and raised eyebrow and they had to agree. They all knew how much he liked spending time outdoors and how relaxed he was after a good camping or fishing trip. Nods of agreement encouraged John to continue his list.
"Third, I'm thankful for my camera. You all know I'm what you could call a penny-pincher."
Laughter greeted John's statement and he moved both hands in a settle down motion to get them to stop so he could continue on.
"Yeah, yeah, I know, but I didn't skimp on my camera. The time I spend taking pictures keeps me sane the same way looking for barbed wire keeps Chet sane. The results of my hobby are just a lot nicer to look at if I do say so myself." Johnny leaned back in his chair in his smug sort of way.
"Okay, John, go on. Number four?" Cap prompted.
"Number four. I'm thankful for the staff at Rampart. I know, you all think it's because they've put me back together so many times, and maybe that's part of it. More though, I appreciate what good friends they've become over the years. Dixie always knows how to make me smile on a bad day. Dr. Brackett, whose bark is most definitely worse than his bite and Dr. Early, who sometimes seems like a surrogate father."
"What? No kind words for Dr. Morton?" Chet quipped.
"No, no kind words for him. Although, I will say that he has gotten that attitude of his under control in recent years and even though I don't think we'll ever be friends, I do think he is turning into a right fine doctor."
"Wow, John, don't ever tell him that to his face, he might stroke out."
"Ah, this is what counts as humor from my partner. Thanks pal."
"No problem, Junior."
"Are you trying to get off my list?"
"Sorry, pal. Continue, please."
The four members of the engine crew had watched this last exchange much as they would have watched a tennis match. It was this kind of banter that kept the men wondering if these two actually liked each other, while at the same time assuring them that the relationship was on solid footing. The banter that was so much more like a younger and an older brother than two men who simply worked together.
"Fine, number five. Um, I saved this one for almost last because, well, you all know, I don't always express myself quite the way I mean to. Yeah, I rant about things, but seldom do I talk about the things that are most important to me. I just want to say that number five, well, um…"
Roy put his hand on Johnny's shoulder again, "whatever it is pal, you can say it, we all remember the rules. It is your thankful and we won't criticize it."
"Thanks, Roy. Anyway, I am so very thankful that when I was hit by that drunk earlier this year that it was while I was with all of you guys. Of course I'd much rather not have been hit by a drunk, but being surrounded by all my best friends, I was much less scared than I would have been had I been surrounded by strangers. Cap, Chet, Mike, and Marco. I hope you all know how highly I value your friendship. I am thankful for each and every one of you and for the support you showed me during that hard time earlier this year. I mean, really, Roy and Marco you went so far as to join me in the hospital."
At this the men around the table once again shared a light chuckle remembering the series of events that had landed half the crew in Rampart. First John and then later, Roy and Marco. That had been a hard time for the station, but they'd come through it stronger than ever.
"Yeah, let's try to find better ways of supporting each other and not repeat that one, right guys." Cap attempted to be a voice of reason for the group, bringing another round of chuckles and mumbled agreements from the three "guilty" members of the group.
"Seems to me you've got one more, John," Mike added.
"Yep, last, but most definitely not least. I think everyone can guess…" Five fingers pointed at Roy.
"Yeah, you got it. My final gratitude goes to Roy. I didn't know what I was getting into when I walked into that office. Wow, it seems like it was just yesterday that I did that. I had no idea what this program was going to try to do differently, but I needed some answers and Roy had them. Then, luck of all luck, I got the best Paramedic partner a guy could ask for, a best friend and another family. I gained a brother. I wouldn't change a thing. I still carry the pen I used to sign the forms to join the program."
"Yeah, that was my pen, give it back." Roy, hating being the center of attention tried to change the direction of the conversation.
"Never, it's mine now. Thanks for answering my questions Pally."
"Anytime, Junior."
"Don't call me that."
Laughter rang out around the table one last time before Cap clapped his hands together, rubbing them as he often did and announced, "This has been a lot of fun, but it's late men, lights out in 10 minutes."
"Yes, Cap," as the six men stood in one motion to go set up their turnouts and get ready for bed.
Fifteen minutes later Cap turned out the lights as six men burrowed under their blankets hoping for a quiet evening.
One quiet voice came out of the dark, "John, thanks for sharing that tradition."
"Yeah, John, thanks."
"That was great."
"We really needed that John."
"Great idea, man."
"John, was that really a tradition you had growing up?" That was definitely Cap's voice.
Not sure how to answer, John paused just long enough for everyone to start to wonder, he could hear as five bodies sat up in bed and looked towards him as if they could see him in the dark.
"No, Cap. I made it up. Sorry, guys, but everyone was so down after that run earlier and I thought we needed something to change the mood."
"Well, it might not have been a tradition growing up, but it is a tradition now. Station 51's very first Thanksgiving tradition. Thanks John."
Four voices whispered, "Thanks John, good-night," and the station settled into quiet for the rest of the night as six grateful men reviewed the many, many things they had to be grateful for, not the least of which was another year at Station 51.
