Johnny rolled into the parking lot 3 minutes late for his shift. He slammed his Rover into park, and grabbed his clean uniforms from the backseat and ran into the bay, knowing latrine duty would be in his future. Throwing his uniforms into his locker, John skidded around the corner, came to a halt and stood at attention for roll call with his fellow crew mates, trying to catch his breath. It was one of those days.
His appearance was a sight to behold. His once neatly pressed uniform shirt was un-tucked, his shirt pocket half ripped, and grass stains and mud adorned his left side shoulder and sleeve. Pieces of grass and debris mingled with his non-regulation hair, and what looked like a small bruise was beginning to form on John's cheek. A row of what could be likened to a nest of hungry baby birds with their mouths open stood in formation, heads tilted to the right, wondering what in the world happened to their crew mate. Captain Stanley was no exception.
"Um, John? An explanation would be nice." Captain Stanley asked of his youngest member.
Well ah, cap, I would rather not…" John suggested, his face pleading.
Not a suggestion John." His captain overruled.
John cleared his throat before he began the saga of his morning. The rest of the crew looked at each other, relaxed their 'attention' stance, making themselves more comfortable.
"Well, see, it's like this. See, I was on my way to work, early, actually, and I saw a citizen in distress, and um, stopped ta help. Well, it didn't really go so well, and I took a tumble down the embankment trying to change her tire and…"
" Ah, Her? I KNEW there was a chick involved! Leave it to Gage…Did you at least get her number?" Chet chimed in and began to laugh.
"I was just helping her out Kelly. That's all. No big thing. Can we drop it now?" Gage looked at the ground.
"Uh uh. No way. What's with the bruise? Did ya try to get fresh and she smacked ya? Or did she have a hulk of a boyfriend to do it?" A few of the other guys began to snicker now. Roy shook his head. Only his partner.
"Shut up, Kelly! I didn't know... He thought I was tryin' to...Ah, can we get back to roll call now? I get the latrines, right?" John growled.
"Ah man! It's true! She had a boyfriend and he decked you!" Chet could barely stand up for all his laughing.
"That's enough men. Let's get back to business. Unfortunately John, assignments were given, and you do have latrines. And Chet, if you find John's assignment that amusing, I'm sure he would appreciate extra help." Captain Stanley admonished.
"Yessir. Understood sir. Not at all amused, sir." Chet tried to answer between chuckles. John flashed an evil eye at the Phantom.
"I didn't think so. Sure you're alright, John?" John looked at his boss and nodded, not saying anything, and Hank understood the message that it wasn't anything his youngest team member wanted to continue to talk about.
Alright then, men. Dismissed." Hank Stanley disappeared into his office, and John sank back into the comforting smoothness of the squad, releasing the breath he had been holding. Most of the men disbursed. Chet started rubbing his hands together, hoping to continue to torment his pigeon, and Roy took Johnny's elbow to lead him into the locker room. Chet tried to follow, but Mike took his elbow and dragged him in the opposite direction.
"Hey, whattya doin? There's gotta be great story here! The Phantom has to know what's going on!"
John had barely enough time to get a fresh shirt on before the klaxons' blared, beckoning the squad from the station.
E*E*E*E*E
After getting their patient ready for transport, Johnny and Dennis, the ambulance attendant, loaded their frail, elderly charge carefully into the ambulance along with the medical equipment into the back of the ambulance. She clung to her treasured yellow purse, adorned with shiny silver buckles that held her favorite bright red lipstick, a metal hairbrush, her false teeth that she wore only on special occasions, her curly platinum blonde hairpiece, and a fairly large bottle of Eau de' Cologne, which unbeknownst to the ambulances' occupants, was now actively leaking, and beginning to fill the cab with its pungent aroma. Roy shut the doors, and gave the customary slaps before getting into the squad to follow the non-code R transport.
Riding in the back with the patient, John stopped taking her pulse and released the wrist of his frail, elderly patient. He gave her a gentle smile.
"How are you feeling, Mildred? Doing better now?"
"Oh, yes, much better now. I feel so silly for forgetting to take my pills. I'm usually so good about such things. You're such a nice young man." She gave him a shy smile. John began to wrinkle his nose at the smell that was beginning to take over their air space.
"It's no problem at all. You just relax and we'll make sure you get checked out thoroughly just to be on the safe side. Are you comfortable Mildred?"
Oh, fine, fine. Don't you worry about lil' ol' me." Mildred hugged her purse tightly as she lay on the gurney. Johnny put the stethoscope in his ears, reached forward to listen to her chest. He reached to remove her purse.
That's when all hell broke loose.
Not willing to release her death grip on her precious purse, Johnny tried to gently push it to one side. Having no success, he politely asked if he could place her purse on the bench beside him for a moment as he listened to her heart, while giving it a gentle tug.
The once docile and frail, 80-something year old woman began to spew forth a string of words that would have made a sailor blush, and insist to be taken home. And by the name she kept calling Johnny, this sweet little old lady was verbally insinuating that his parents had never been married upon his birth, and knew the terminology to imply that very thing.
Trying to calm the woman, John placed both hands on her shoulders to settle her down, leaving himself defenseless. Before he knew what happened, this sweet, 80 pound, five foot nothing woman started swinging her precious purse, connecting it, buckles and all, along with the stinky liquid that was dripping out of its' crevices, with Johnny's body on many different levels, especially when she found out she still wasn't being taken home. To make matters worse, she tried to get off the gurney, and unbuckle the belt holding her there. The fight was on.
"Dennis, OW! I Need- OUCH! OW! Some STOP THAT! help OW! Here! Mildred OW! Stop hitting OW! Me! OW! Dennis! Pull over OUCH! " Dennis, this OW! CRAP! OUCH! Isn't funny! OW! Pull Over!" The ambulance driver, who was fighting laughter, eventually pulled over. Squad 51, with a puzzled Roy driving, quickly pulled over, and opened the doors to see Johnny being pummeled with a yellow handbag.
"Mildred, OW! You have to OW! Stop that! I'm trying to OUCH! help you!"
Roy finally got ahold of the flailing old woman's arms, and Johnny grabbed the purse and flung it across the rig. It clunked heavily on the floor. Roy looked at Johnny, with his red welts on his face and arms from the purse buckles and his being doused with the stinky eau de cologne, and couldn't help but smirk. Mildred stopped struggling and laid her head back on the gurney. Covering the patient back up, Roy tightened the strap snugly, and patted Mildred comfortingly. Sweet little Mildred gave him a toothless smile.
"You're such a nice young man. I feel so silly for forgetting to take my pills. I'm usually so good about such things." Johnny's mouth dropped open – again. Roy moved to go back to the squad.
"Oh, no. No, no. I'LL take the squad. Oh, and Roy? Don't touch her purse!"
"Hey Johnny?" Johnny stopped and looked back at his partner.
"You smell purr-ty."
Roy snorted with laughter. Johnny glared at his partner, jumped out of the ambulance, slammed the door and stomped off to the squad.