Warrior Strong Heart

Dear Journal,

You know, I'm really lucky! Joe and Betty really treat me like family. I mean, Mrs. Smith did, too, but in a babysitting kind of way. With Joe and Betty, I am REALLY family. I almost kinda wish they would adopt me, but that might be asking too much.

I was thinking about the day Mrs. Smith died. That day is such a blur, but one thing I remember very clearly was seeing a really cute fireman. He was carrying the stretcher that had Mrs. Smith on it. I wish I could see him again. He was cute, but he seemed really shy. I wish I knew his name. He seemed so strong and brave, but he looked like someone who would be really kind. He reminded me of a…an Indian warrior, that's it. Maybe someday I'll meet him, if he would just not be so shy!

Kelly

Thirteen old Kelly reached around her best friend to grab her books from their shared locker. Because of teacher in-service meetings the next two days, she would have no school, so the teachers had assigned extra homework. She didn't mind. Kelly loved school and the sense of security it gave her. She swung the heavy backpack up over her shoulder, and slammed the door shut barely missing Julie's fingers in the process.

"Hey, watch it!" Julie squeaked, as she looked her fingers over making sure they really were OK.

"Oh, sorry," Kelly replied and smiled sheepishly at her friend before she started to walk toward the exit. "I guess I was thinking how lucky I am."

Julie quizzically looked at her friend. Lucky? Kelly, a foster child with a heart-breaking background, lucky? When she didn't reply, Kelly turned around. "C'mon, don't stand there looking at me like I'm crazy!"

Julie ran to catch up and realized that compared to what Kelly's background was, right now, she was indeed lucky.

Kelly got off the bus one block from the CHP station where her foster dad worked. Ever since Mrs. Smith died a year and a half ago, she has lived with Joe Getraer, a CHP officer and his family. Really though, all of the CHP officers were her family. And, they all had a role in her upbringing. Sarj was a stern but loving dad; Jon was the one who looked after her emotional welfare; Barry helped her with her projects, Ponch made sure she was physically and socially safe, and the others… well, they were all there to make sure she had no questions in her homework. Cindy was great with language, Jed was a whiz with math, Harlan could answer any science question, who knew Grossie understood Latin, and Maggie, at the front desk, knew history from the end to the beginning.

Opening the door to the front office, one quick glance told Kelly that the place was quiet. She slid under the counter rather than lifting it up and walking though, and dropped her backpack on the floor by the back wall. Maggie was on the phone so Kelly gave her a quick wave while she darted to the back where the officers were. Stepping into the break room, Kelly fished a quarter from her pocket and slid it into the vending machine. She pushed the button that released a big red apple for her to crunch on as she said hi to her friends and settled in to do her homework.

"Kelly," Sarj said by way of greeting as he walked into the break room.

Kelly turned and gave a quick wave. "Hi Sarj. I was just grabbing an apple before I start my homework. Maggie was on the phone when I came in."

Sarj chuckled a bit to himself. Kelly always tried to justify herself with him. Sometimes he wished he could hide those three stripes on his sleeves or pinned to his collar if it meant that Kelly would be more comfortable with him. He wondered how he could tell her that he and his wife, Betty, were thinking about adopting her.

"Kelly, hold up. I need to talk to you. Here," Joe patted the seat next to him as he sat down. Kelly sat.

"Let's see, you have two days off of school, right?" Joe asked.

Kelly nodded as she took a juicy bite of her apple.

"Hmm, that's what I thought." Joe acted as if he was trying to figure out what to do with her. "I thought you'd like to go to the beach when I get off work early tomorrow afternoon. Betty and I talked about it and thought it would be a great outing. Barry, Ponch, Jon and Grossie are invited to come, but not all of them are sure they can make it."

"But Kelly, it will mean you'll have to do a ride along with me tomorrow morning. Is that OK? Betty has to work tomorrow the senior center and we can't leave you at home." Sarj stated. Kelly liked to do ride-alongs, especially if they were with someone fun like Cindy or Barry.

Kelly nodded and mentally planned to take her assigned book report book, her journal and perhaps one of her favorite romance novels to read in the morning. She gave Sarj a smile, got up, went out to the front desk to grab her backpack.

As she bounced through the service door, she barely noticed who was in the waiting room. She picked up her backpack, and as she turned to head back, she caught a glimpse of a young man standing quite awkwardly at the front counter. Maggie was helping him.

Without realizing it, Kelly was staring at a face she had seen somewhere before. That face, that dark, mature and compassionate face with a whole lot of youthful fun mixed in, but this time those deep dark compassionate eyes were embarrassed and awkward. She watched as he filled out an application and then had his picture taken. She glanced over at the form Maggie had dropped into the processing file – a class C driver's license application. Why was this wonderful man so embarrassed about filling out a request for a class C license? She turned back to face him only to discover he was watching her. At the same time, the faces of both Kelly and this young man turned beat red as they turned away and hastily left through their respective doors. Where had she seen him before? That young man, boy really, who in her heart she knew…. Knew what?

Kelly had a very hard time studying that afternoon.

Dear Journal,

I'm supposed to be studying right now, but I just had to write. Just now, in the front office I saw a really cute guy filling out an application for a class C license. I'm sure I've seen him before. Is he the fireman that took Mrs. Smith out of the house that day? He certainly looks like it. I saw him looking at me, and when he noticed me looking at him, he got red in the face and hurried out the door. I hope someday I'll get to know him.

Kelly

Johnny could not get that girl out of his mind, and it bothered him. She was just a child, not more than twelve or thirteen years old. But there was something about her...her eyes. He knew he had seen those eyes before. Those intense light brown eyes that seemed so painfully knowledgeable, curious, perhaps even a bit uncertain. But, he thought he also saw a spark of mischief, yes mischief, but what else? It seemed that whoever that girl was, she knew his heart and his haunted past, and yet she accepted him. Did he see love in those eyes? Nah, she was just a girl, only twelve or thirteen years old. A girl that age wouldn't about know love, would she?

Mac,

It's been a while since I've written; in fact, the last time I wrote it was about that sad little girl I saw when I carried her dead mom (I'm guessing) out of the house. I think I saw her today! I was at the CHP station filling out a class C application when that girl came through the back door. She picked up a backpack from the floor and then she caught me looking at her. I was so embarrassed! I think she was embarrassed too because I caught her looking at me. She was just as red as I was. She hurried back through the door before I could even say Hi to her. But then, I did leave in a hurry as well. I wish I knew more about her. I need to be careful, though. I am twenty years old, I'm a fireman, and a Lakota, and she's just a kid. I don't want to do anything that would ruin her honor or mine. I guess I just want to make sure she is safe, that someone loves her and keeps her secure.

~John

Roy could see that John was irritable and distracted. Yesterday was their day off and he knew that John had to apply for his class C driver's license so he could drive the squad. His Junior partner was twenty and could do some driving – that is if Roy would let him.

Roy shook his head. John was so young; he was not even nineteen when he joined the department. It didn't take him long to become a rescue man; and then a paramedic when this new field of emergency medicine started. John was…well…so mature in some ways – mature way beyond his years. Still off duty and around the station John was still very much a boy.

The senior paramedic was still getting to know his new partner. John was very talkative, but never about his past. That was forbidden territory and he had made it quite clear that he was NOT going to talk about that.

But today, John was irritable. Roy didn't get it. Usually if it was about a failed attempt to get a nurse's attention, Roy would have heard about it, so it couldn't be that. After thinking about, and rejecting, a list of possibilities, Roy shook his head. He could only hope that when the tones went off, whatever was distracting Johnny would stay behind so John could do the job he was so gifted to do.

Early Tuesday morning, Sarj and Kelly left the house for the office in his CHP cruiser. Kelly threw her beach bag into the trunk and climbed into the front seat with her books and journal. Snapping the seatbelt around her, she settled in for a long morning.

The first couple of hours were uneventful as Sarj stopped a couple speeders, and assisted a teenage boy in broken down van. The most exciting event up to that point was a woman in labor. But the ambulance arrived and got the woman and her frantic husband off to the hospital.

With about hour left of the Sarj's half-shift, Kelly read the last pages of her book report book. She sighed and looked up searching for road signs to get her bearing. Sarj glanced over when he heard her sigh.

"You doing OK?" he asked. "I'm sorry this is so boring for you."

Kelly was quick to assure him it was OK. "Sarj, really, this was a great way for me to get my book report book done. I'm not so distracted by other stuff. I can just sit here and read. I don't mind. Really. And I am looking forward to the beach."

Joe took a long look at this young girl before turning his eyes to the road. He spoke, his voice serious, almost uncertain. "Kelly, I…." However, before he could say anymore the radio squawked.

"S-4, MVA on PCH at Sulpovanna. Copy?" Joe reached for the microphone and replied. "S4, copy. ETA three minutes." In one swift motion, he replaced the microphone and flipped the switch for the lights and sirens. The car quickly and expertly accelerated as he guided it around the traffic gathering at the crash site.

Braking to a stop on the shoulder Sarj and Kelly gazed at a tangle mess of semi-truck, small car and a pickup truck before them. Both sighed, Sarj because he was sure this was a fatality, and Kelly because she knew it would be a long wait in the warm car. She wished she could get out and sit somewhere cool.

Sarj jumped out of the car and began directing traffic until his fellow officers pulled up. Grossie took over traffic control while Jon and Ponch assessed the victims. With another sigh, Kelly pulled her journal close to her, found an empty page, and pulled a pen from her purse. Clicking it open, she prepared to write. About what? She toyed with the pen a minute while she mentally wandered from one topic to the next.

Suddenly, the image of the young man filling out the application crossed her mind. Again, she saw those high cheekbones, the ruffled black hair, the youthful features, the slender frame, and those deep brown eyes. Her hand sketched the image on paper as she mentally gazed on that young man, whom she knew in her heart would… would what?

Suddenly she heard an awful grinding, creaking noise and looked up to see what was happening. Several fire engines and a paramedic rescue squad partially blocked her view, but she was still able to see a group of men in heavy turnout coats using the Jaws of Life to pull open the small wrecked car. Soon a man with a white stripe on his helmet waved his arm and the noise stopped. Two other men rushed forward carrying several pieces of equipment. Setting them down, the two blue-shirted men wiggled into the mess. One man was fair- skinned and had reddish brown hair. The other man was, was…Kelly gasped as her eyes focused on the other man. He had darker skin and beneath his helmet, she could see black ruffled hair! Instantly she her memories took her back to another time when she was standing outside and watched as two men in blue shirts carried a sheet-draped stretcher out of her house. Tears flooded her eyes as she now watched that young man work with his partner inside that wrecked car. As wet lines slowly dribbled down her face, Kelly was again amazed at his gentle touch, the compassion, and the maturity she saw amidst his youth.

A movement caught her eye. Sarj was approaching. Quickly she wiped her hands across her face, ridding herself of the tears, as she tried to hide behind her journal.

"Kelly, I think we can go. The other Sergeant is here with his guys, and the fire department's just about got everything taken care of. I'm sure you'll be happy to get out of this hot car."

Kelly didn't trust herself to speak, but she swallowed hard and said, "Um, good Sarj, I am getting really hungry."

Joe didn't miss the catch in Kelly's voice, and looked over at her, concerned. "Hey, you OK? I hope the scene back there wasn't too gruesome for you."

Kelly wiped her hand across her face again, leaving her journal exposed. Sarj saw the sketch of a young man and was amazed at the quality of this young girl's work. It was an exact likeness of one of those young paramedics he saw working the accident just now. He looked at Kelly again. She was unaware he saw her sketch.

With a sigh Kelly admitted, "I saw someone-thing that reminded me of Mrs. Smith." She put her hand down covering up the picture and then closed her journal completely. Joe wondered if the young paramedic was the source of Kelly's tears. An awkward silence filled the police car as Joe steered the cruiser away from the accident.

Unbeknownst to Kelly, John spotted her in the moving car as he turned away from closing the ambulance doors. He saw what appeared to be her wiping tears away from her face and the concerned look of the sergeant. His thoughts went back to that little girl on the CHP motorcycle. That little girl, and the one he saw both just now and yesterday; they've got to be the same person. But who is she? And why was he so concerned about her, in particular? John shook his head and headed back to the squad. There was something about her…

It was with great relief they finally pulled into Joe's driveway. Kelly quickly got out of the car, relieved to put some distance between her, the accident and that young paramedic, whoever he was.

Dear Journal,

I saw him today, that fireman with the dark hair and eyes. I'm sure he's the same man I saw in the front office yesterday. I was in Joe's cruiser while at an accident. I don't think he saw me because he was busy with a victim. But as I saw him work, I started to cry. He was so gentle and compassionate with his victim. It reminded me of the day Mrs. Smith died. I drew a picture of him, but seeing his picture is almost overwhelming. His eyes want to say so much to me that I can't understand it all.

Kelly

Kelly was back in school on Thursday. She tried hard to put that young paramedic out of her mind, and she almost did with the activities of a young sixth-grade girl. She participated in sleep-overs and study groups, giggled through her friends' boy crushes and gushed about the latest cute movie star. Always in the back of her mind, however, was that paramedic. Each time his image started to fade from her mind, she saw him – usually during one of her occasional ride-along's with Barry or Bonnie. One time she saw him while she was in the ER waiting room with Julie's mom, waiting for Julie to get her hand casted. She had broken it playing volleyball. That paramedic was busy bringing in a patient from the ambulance and didn't see her; she hoped. Before he came back out, the nurse wheeled Julie out to the waiting room and Kelly had left before seeing him again.

Usually months would be pass before she saw that young man again. Almost unconsciously, she began thinking of him by a name. He looked Indian with those high cheekbones and black hair. Warrior Strong Heart. It startled her when she realized that was how she thought of him, but somehow, it fit. She liked it.

Summer came. Kelly was caught up in throes of her secure childhood in Southern California. Warrior Strong Heart, became almost a dream, a "knight in shining armor" dream, and Kelly told no-one. She barely wrote anything about him in her journal. In fact, one time she almost tore her sketch of him out of her book, but couldn't quite do it. Instead, she used a small sliver of tape to secure that page to the page in front of it so she wouldn't have to see his picture.

Johnny lost track of how many times he drove past that CHP station. When he was with station 10, he drove by it every day on his way to work. Now that he was a paramedic with the new station 51, he had to travel nearly five miles out of his way to go past the CHP station. Time after time as he passed that building that so terrified and fascinated him, he knew that girl was the daughter of a police officer. Why else would she be there picking up a bag of schoolbooks from behind the counter. She was just a child, and he was a gentleman and a fireman /paramedic, not to mention a Lakota Native American. Yet, he continued his trek past the station, convincing himself that he was trying to make sure she was protected. He didn't want anything to hurt that little girl – that girl whose eyes seemed to tell him she had been hurt so badly already. He sighed and turned his vehicle back to his new station, his new partner and his new job.

Mac,

I saw that girl again, a couple months ago. Roy, my new partner and I were working an MVA on PCH. The CHP was there directing traffic as usual. Roy and I had a couple victims including a little boy. As we were getting the mess cleaned up and the victims off to the hospital I saw one of the CHP cars leave, and she was it in it. She must have been there the whole time. She was in a sergeant's car; and as they pulled away, I wonder if she was crying, because it looked like she was trying to dry off tears.

I suppose now that I'm with Roy and at Station 51, I had better stop making trips past that CHP station. If only I knew more about her….

~John

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