"Roy. Roy, honey…wake up."
The soft voice of his wife, Joanne filtered through the thick fog of sleep shrouding Roy DeSoto's brain. He felt her gently shaking his shoulder and let out a weary groan. He forced open one eye and peered at the bedside clock radio – blurred numbers read: 2:17 AM.
Roy let out another groan. It seemed he had only just collapsed into bed after working two consecutive shifts of what amounted to a never-ending string of emergency calls. Seven traffic accidents – one with two fatalities. Half a dozen structure fires – the handiwork of an angry 13-year-old in which the last had escalated into a full-scale apartment blaze with multiple burn victims. And the topper – a hit and run involving a little boy whose resemblance to his own son, Chris, served to unnerve Roy for the rest of his shift.
"Roy…wake up."
"Joanne…?" Roy croaked, turning over. "What's wrong? One of the kids sick?"
"No…it's the door. Somebody's at the door," Joanne responded.
He heard it only after she had drawn his attention to it – the persistent ringing of their front doorbell.
"Hell! What kind of maniac decides to drop by for a visit in the middle of the night?!" Roy growled, tossing back the covers and climbing out of his nice warm bed.
He grabbed a pair of jeans from the top of his dresser and pulled them on.
"None of MY friends," Joanne commented dryly, pulling on her robe.
"Well, whoever it is, is soon gonna be an EX-friend!" Roy grumbled, flipping on the bedroom light, squinting against the harsh yellow-white glare.
Rounding from his side of the bed, he yanked open the bedroom door and stepped out into the hall. As he padded along the thick carpeting, heading toward the living room, their mystery visitor began to press steadily on the doorbell. A moment later, urgent knocks also filled the night time silence.
"I'm coming!" Roy called out angrily.
"Roy… hush! You'll wake the children," Joanne admonished, following her husband.
"Joanne, nothing wakes our kids – they've slept through two major earthquakes!" Roy snapped, just as six-year-old Jennifer wandered out from her bedroom, rubbing at her eyes and whining over her disrupted sleep.
"You were saying?" Joanne quipped, scooping up her crying daughter.
"Sorry," Roy mumbled sheepishly, continuing on to answer the door as Joanne carried Jennifer back to her bedroom.
Once in the entryway, Roy flipped on the porch light and peered through the peephole. His eyes widened in surprise.
"What the hell?" he questioned, quickly unlocking the door and yanking it open.
"Can I help you, Officer?" he asked.
"Roy DeSoto?" asked the tall, lean LAPD officer.
"Yes," Roy replied, pushing the screen door open. "Come in, please."
The officer, whose nametag read, "Simons," stepped into the entryway.
"Sir, I'm Officer Simons. I'm sorry to be disturbing you so late," he began. "But are you aquatinted with," he continued, pausing to glance at a small note pad he held in his right hand. "With a John Gage?" he finished.
Roy drew in a sharp breath, then swallowed hard, nodding slowly.
"What's wrong?" he asked, his throat tight with fear. "What's happened to Johnny?"
"Roy?"
He turned to Joanne as she joined him and the Officer.
"What is it? What's wrong?" she asked, looking anxiously from Roy to Officer Simons and back.
"I'm not sure, something about Johnny," Roy responded, reaching out to take her hand.
"Johnny?" she replied.
They both turned questioning eyes toward Officer Simons, waiting, dreading what news was to follow.
"I've been asked to inform you that Mr. Gage has been involved in a shooting incident," the officer spoke quietly, calmly.
"Shooting!" Roy echoed.
"Oh-my-God! Johnny!" Joanne cried, tears forming quickly.
"Is he all right?" Roy asked.
"I'm not sure of his condition, Mr. DeSoto," Officer Simons answered. "He was taken to Rampart General Hospital about half an hour ago."
"What happened?" Joanne asked.
"I'm not sure of the details, ma'am," he replied. "I arrived late. I was just asked to notify you, as your name was given as next of kin for Mr. Gage."
"By whom?" Roy asked.
"The staff at Rampart," he answered.
Roy wanted to know more. He wanted answers from the policeman, but he needed to see Johnny first.
"All right, thank you, Officer," Roy said, shaking his hand.
Joanne and Roy watched the policeman head back to his patrol car. Roy looked at Joanne's face. He saw the worry and fear that matched his own feelings.
"Call me when you know anything," she said, getting his coat out of the hall closet.
***
Roy entered the Emergency Room Lobby and quickly headed for the nurses' station. He stood and waited silently for the nurse to finish what she was doing and look up at him.
"Can I help you?" she asked. Then she recognized the out of uniform paramedic and asked, "Roy? What are you doing here?"
"I was told Johnny was brought in here, Anne. How is he? What happened?" Roy demanded.
"Johnny?" she gasped. "Oh, God, they brought in a couple of gun shot victims a little while ago, just before I got on duty. Was he one of them?"
Roy nodded solemnly, impatiently.
Anne checked her charts and papers.
"He's in room three with Dr. Early," Anne told him, looking up again only to see Roy's back as he headed for the treatment room.
Roy opened the room's door slowly, hesitation in his step. Part of him wanted to be in there, to find out how Johnny was. But part of him was afraid to find out as well.
Inside, Dixie caught the movement of the door's opening and locked eyes with Roy as he peered in. She went to the door and slipped outside, blocking Roy's entry.
"Dix?" was all Roy needed to say, his eyes asking all the questions.
"We've got him stabilized for the time being, Roy," she soothed, placing her hand on his upper arm for support. "He was hit twice. Once in the leg and once in the head."
"In the head?!" Roy exclaimed.
"It was a glancing shot. No penetration," she countered firmly, reassuring him.
It was still too much for Roy to bear and he sagged heavily against the wall.
"What happened? Why would anybody shoot Johnny?" Roy questioned.
"I don't know all the details, Roy," Dixie answered. "I know the police are looking for the suspect."
Just then they heard a disturbance coming from the entrance to the Emergency Room.
"Where is she?! Where is she?!" a woman shouted.
Roy and Dixie turned to see Carol Williams heading their way.
"Carol? What are you doing here?" Roy asked.
"Where's Sheila?" Carol asked Dixie.
"Sheila?" Roy asked.
"She's in surgery, Carol," Dixie told her coworker.
"How bad?" Carol asked.
Dixie took Carol by the arm and started to steer her towards the nurses' lounge. But Carol just shrugged out of Dixie's grip.
"Dammit, Dixie! Just tell me!" she demanded.
"She's critical. She lost a lot of blood from a bullet wound to her abdomen," Dixie responded. "Kel thinks she might lose the right kidney."
Carol closed her eyes and bit her lip as she took in the information.
"She was out with Johnny. Is he all right?" she asked.
"He's stable for the time being. He'll be on his way to surgery soon, as well," Dixie answered.
Carol looked at Roy, as if noticing him for the first time, saw the worry in his eyes.
"Well, Roy, we might as well make ourselves comfortable for the wait," she said to him, trying to put herself into her 'nurse mode.' "Join me in the lounge?" she asked.
Roy nodded and followed.
***
"I just wish I knew what the hell happened," Roy said with a sigh.
"They got shot because they were together," Carol said, simply.
"What?" Roy asked, incredulous.
"They got shot because they were together," she repeated. "A black woman with a white man," she added.
"How do you know that?" he asked.
"It's a fact of life in my neighborhood, Roy," she began. "A no-win situation. You teach your children that color doesn't matter. You praise them when they play with and talk about their 'other color' friends. You feel giddy inside when they play indiscriminately with both the black and white dolls you've given them. You truly feel you've succeeded in teaching your child about diversity and life when she brings home a boyfriend whose skin is a different color than hers. And what happens? The harsh reality of the outside world comes crashing through when some bigoted idiot shoots them down because their skins don't match!" she continued. "Was it all worth it? Should I have taught her to stick to her own color? She'd be in one piece right now if I did!" she ranted.
"Carol-," Roy began.
"Oh, God, Roy," she said, shaking her head. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that," she said, tears slowly making their way down her cheeks.
"I know, Carol," Roy replied, taking her hand. "Is that what happened? Did someone shoot them because of….?"
"Yes," she replied. "The officer that came to my apartment told me that Sheila and Johnny were walking back from a movie together. A couple of guys started saying stuff to them, about how they shouldn't be together. That blacks and whites shouldn't mix."
"Were they black or white?" Roy asked, curious.
"Does it really matter?" Carol countered.
"No, I guess not," he replied.
"They were white," she answered anyway. "When Sheila and Johnny tried to ignore them and walk away, the bastards took offense. Witnesses told the police that Sheila and Johnny just tried to get away from them, but they wound up fighting with them anyway," Carol said, pausing.
"But they were shot," Roy prodded her.
"I guess Johnny and Sheila were winning," she said. "Sheila does have a black belt in Karate," she explained.
"And jerks like these don't take to well to losing," Roy surmised.
Carol nodded her head.
"The police arrived shortly after the shooting. Some other people from the movie had seen what was happening and called them," she said.
Roy shook his head.
"I'll never understand it. Why can't people just accept one another for who they are on the inside?" he questioned.
"Unfortunately, Roy, I don't think we'll ever have an answer for that question. Or a solution," she replied.
"All we can do is teach our own and hope they teach theirs," Roy added.
***
About two hours later, Dr. Early entered the nurses' lounge. Both Roy and Carol stood up.
"Johnny's stable," Dr. Early began. "Doesn't look like he'll have any permanent damage. He'll be on crutches for a while and of course, wake up with a hell of a headache," he finished with a smile.
Roy and Carol both sighed in relief over the news of Johnny's condition.
"And Sheila? Any word?" Carol asked.
"I'm sorry, Carol, I don't know," Dr. Early answered, putting his hand on her shoulder.
She nodded, understanding.
"When can I see Johnny?" Roy asked Dr. Early.
"He's in recovery right now," he answered. "Give them about a half hour or so and then you can head upstairs."
"Thanks, Doc," Roy responded. "I better give Joanne a call, let her know how Johnny's doing," he told Carol.
"Go ahead," she urged.
***
When Roy returned to the lounge he found it empty. He turned around to see Dr. Brackett talking with Dixie at the nurses' station. He walked over.
"How's Sheila?" he asked.
"She's stable, but still critical," Dr. Brackett answered.
"Carol gone up to see her?" Roy asked, despite knowing the answer.
"Yeah, couldn't keep her away," Dixie replied.
"It's such a stupid thing," Dr. Brackett remarked.
Dixie and Roy just nodded, silently agreeing with the statement.
***
Roy entered Johnny's room quietly. Dr. Early had told him not to expect too much out of Johnny for a while. Between the anesthesia and the head wound, Johnny was sure to be unconscious for a few hours yet.
Roy sat in the chair next to the bed and gazed at his partner. His head was bandaged, covering his right eye as it wrapped around. Dixie had told him that the bullet hit his forehead just at his eyebrow. A few centimeters lower and Johnny would have been blinded in that eye. He saw Johnny's leg, raised up under the bed sheets, the elevation keeping the swelling down.
Roy recalled when Johnny had first told him about 'that cute med student' that he wanted to ask out. It never occurred to him that she would be black. Not that it mattered. He was more surprised that it was Carol's niece than the fact that she wasn't white. Who'd have thought that something like this would happen? Such idiots out there, he thought. Roy's thoughts were interrupted by a soft moan from the bed.
"Johnny?" Roy called softly.
"Mmmm….Roy?" Johnny moaned.
"Yeah, I'm right here, partner," he replied.
Johnny's left eye fluttered open and he reached shakily for the other eye, before Roy caught his hand.
"Easy, easy. Don't touch it," Roy instructed. "Your eye is fine, it's just bandaged along with the wound above it," he reassured quickly.
Johnny seemed appeased, started to go back to sleep. Then he bolted up.
"Sheila?!" he exclaimed, looking around.
"She's going to be fine," Roy soothed. "She's in ICU. Carol's with her," he added.
Johnny leaned back onto the pillow and let out the breath he'd been holding.
"I haven't had to deal with this kind of shit since I lived on the reservation," Johnny started, shaking his head.
He let out a moan and put his hands up to his head. Shaking it hadn't been a good idea.
Roy waited for Johnny to relax a bit before saying, "Hopefully, this will be the last time, too."
"Oh, I doubt it, Roy," Johnny answered tiredly. "I'm sure Sheila and I will have to deal with it again."
Roy raised his eyebrows at the remark.
"You sound as if you and Sheila have got something serious going," he said.
"I don't know, maybe," Johnny replied. "Even if we don't, we'll still be friends and go out."
Roy nodded and stood up next to Johnny's bed.
"Look, you better get some rest, now," he told Johnny. "I better head home, too."
"Thanks for coming, Roy," Johnny mumbled before falling asleep.
***
Roy headed up toward the ICU. He saw Carol through the window. She smiled at him when she saw him and gestured for him to come into the room.
"How is she?" he asked, nodding toward Sheila, asleep in the bed.
"It looks good, Roy," Carol answered. "Kel was able to save the kidney, but it'll have decreased function."
"I'm glad she'll be all right," Roy said with a reassuring smile.
"I'm sure her biggest complaint will be falling behind in school," Carol remarked.
Roy laughed.
"Roy, I want to thank you for being with me - waiting, listening," she said.
"I could say the same to you," he said. "In fact, I do. Thank YOU," he added.
Carol smiled at that and gave Roy a hug.
"What would we do without our little family here?" she asked, gesturing to the hospital surrounding them.
***
A week later Roy was at home when the phone rang.
"Hello?" he answered.
"Hey, Roy, it's me," Johnny replied.
"Hey, Johnny, how are you feeling?" Roy asked. "Are you getting out?" he added.
"Yeah, Early signed my release this morning," he answered.
"So, I take it you need a ride home?" Roy asked.
"Yeah, eventually," Johnny responded.
"Eventually?" Roy asked.
"Yeah, I got a visit from one of the detectives from LAPD. They've got some suspects that they want me to look at. Try to pick them out of some line-ups," he said.
"You up to it?" Roy asked, concerned about his friend.
"Gotta do it Roy, whether I'm up to it or not," Johnny said. "I want these guys to pay for what they did," he continued. "But more than that, I want people to learn from this. I want people to fight this hatred, like I'm doing by going to that line-up."
Roy listened to Johnny. He had the same views on racial issues like this. He too, believed that there were no differences between peoples based on their skin color. But he'd never had to DO anything about it or get personally involved. He admired Johnny for the stand he was taking. He just wished they lived in a world where such actions didn't have to be taken.
"I'll be there in half an hour," Roy told him, already reaching for his car keys.