SOMETIMES YOU LOSE SOME
by ardavenport
- - - Part 6
Johnny got to work before Roy on their next shift. The workmen that Mrs. Catelli hired were coming in and starting up at 5:30 AM. Hammers, saws, men tromping up and downstairs. People had complained loudly, but Mrs. Catelli said that she was lucky to get them at all on such short notice; they were working on another job, too, and would only be coming in early for a few more days. She said it nicer to Johnny than she did to the others, since he had helped put out the fire. And she refused to talk about Mrs. Morales, who was staying with one of her sons.
Roy came in. "Hi."
Buttoning his blue uniform shirt, Johnny nodded back. "Hi." He reached for his badge.
"You're in early."
"Yeah, well . . ." He told Roy about the noise and the workmen. His partner listened while he got dressed, occasionally offering a sympathetic comment. They made as much noise as they could coming up the stairs and going down the hall with their equipment, boards, sheets of drywall, buckets. They tore things out in the ruined apartment and dragged the wreckage down the stairs right past Johnny's door.
Dressed, Roy sat down on the bench in front of his locker and pinned his name badge on, the last thing.
"I, uh, talked to Joanne . . . about the other day. That run we had and the gun."
Johnny froze. He had not exactly forgotten about that run, the dead child. . . . he didn't like to think about things like that. But Roy had to. He put his foot up on the bench and leaned forward on his knee.
"Yeah."
Roy shrugged. "I got rid of it. Got a few bucks for it at a pawn shop."
Johnny straightened, nodded. "Oh, okay. What did Joanne say."
"She wanted me to get rid of it. And I guess, after that run . . . I'm more afraid of something like that happening than someone breaking in. I thought we might go out to dinner, but Joanne confiscated the money for the kids' college fund."
Johnny sat down on the bench next to him. He was sure that Roy had done the right thing, but he didn't want to sound like he was rubbing it in that he was right.
"I guess it just comes down to wanting to protect your family."
Roy nodded. "Yeah."
They got up and went to the day room. Dwyer and Benton were just going off, but there was a box of powdered donuts on the kitchen table and they lingered over coffee. C-shift had been slow. Only six runs. Only five for the squad. Yawning, Johnny thought he could use a slow shift after being gotten up so early and so rudely. But as soon as they'd check out the equipment on the squad and Captain Stanley called the morning lineup the alarm went off.
Oooooooeeeeeeee-mmmmaaaaahhhh – BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
"Squad/ Fifty-One – Man with chest pains, in the office – One-one-two-six-six Drury Lane - One-one-two-six-six Drury Lane - Cross Street, Starlight Boulevard - Time Out, Eight-twenty-seven."
It took them nine minutes to get there. 'The office' turned out to be Footlights Talent Agency, a first floor office in a gray stone building. A small, older woman with frosty gray hair, pearly horned-rim glasses and wearing a bright green dress held the door open for them.
"It's Morrie, back here." She led them through an outer office; fretting young women in chairs and at desks with typewriters watched them go by.
"He said he wasn't feeling well. I don't know why he had to come in if he wasn't. Now he's sitting there with his hand on his chest saying he's having a heart attack." She sounded skeptical, her voice loud and grating with an east coast accent.
Middle-aged, balding, overweight and diaphoretic, Morrie sat in a big padded chair behind a desk in an inner office, wood-paneled walls covered with photos. A nervous young red-head in a mini-skirt held a phone to her ear.
"Footlights Talent Agency, can I help you? . . . . . I'm sorry, he's in a meeting right now." She held the phone away from her ear from the loud voice coming out of it. She edged to the side to let them by while she took a message.
"Finally! I'm dying here!" Morrie clutched his chest. he wore a short-sleeved white shirt, the collar and tie loosened.
"Well, we're here to help." Roy put the drug box on the desk. "I'm Roy DeSoto and my partner his is John Gage. How long have you been feeling bad?"
With Roy holding his wrist, Morrie moaned about feeling lousy getting up in the morning, but the chest pain came on suddenly when he was dictating to his secretary. Johnny grabbed another phone on the desk and dialed Rampart. Dixie McCall answered and he passed on the vital signs from Roy to her. By the time Dr. Brackett got on the phone they had Morrie's shirt open, the EKG leads attached to his chest. Sinus rhythm. Brackett ordered IV D5W, TKO, 5 mg MS.
"Ooooooooh, has anyone called my wife?" Morrie moaned and tried to rub his chest; Roy had to push his hand down and tell him to keep still.
"I left a message with the maid." The small woman with the horned-rim glasses shrugged.
"What? What's she doing going out when I'm dying here? Ooooooh." He moaned again; the IV was in, but Morrie hardly seemed to have noticed.
"Ma'am could you hold this." Roy gave the woman the IV bag. Calm, she took it, holding it up.
"Probably out shopping, spending my money. No wonder I'm having a heart attack. Buying another mink coat. I swear she's gonna ruin me."
"Well, at least you finally proved to everybody you gotta heart, Morrie."
Johnny glanced at the older woman; she did not look worried. Unlike the secretary, wide-eyed and scared, clutching her hands before her. Three more woman peeked in through the open door. He heard a siren outside.
"Ma'am? Ma'am?"
The young secretary tore her eyes off of Morrie.
"Can you go out and bring the ambulance crew in here?"
She stared.
"Ma'am? Ma'am, we need you to go out and bring in the ambulance crew."
"Oh, oh, oh, yes! Of course!" She hurried out.
The scope still read sinus rhythm and Morrie looked like he was feeling better.
"I work my tail off to buy that woman things. Big house, pool, furs, jewels, fancy cars. What more does she want anyway? Is it too much to expect her to be there when I'm dying here? Show some loyalty?"
He was far from dying though his blood pressure was high, his pulse rapid. The woman holding the IV bag was less than sympathetic. "Yeah, you're a real pussy-cat, Morrie."
"Yeah, I am." Morrie nodded. "And a lot of gratitude I get from you and the girls for it, too. I give you all jobs. You'd all be out on the street without me – aaaaaah!"
The scope changed.
"Roy, PVCs." Johnny relayed the new info to Brackett. 100 mg lidacane push and then lidacane drip. The ambulance attendants came in with the gurney. Johnny and Roy knew them. Frank and George, and they were both trained as EMTs.
The lidacane worked. Morrie stabilized enough for him to issue orders to the fearful women in the outer office as they wheeled him out. The woman in the horned-rim glasses, whose name was Nora, told Morrie that she would keep calling his wife as they loaded him into the ambulance. Roy climbed in back along with George.
Johnny followed the ambulance, siren blaring. Traffic was heavy, but they didn't have any problems. At the Emergency entrance, he backed the squad in, got out and went in. But when he looked around the busy emergency department hallway, he didn't see where they had gone until George came out with his gurney. He got a brief glance through the open door of Roy doing CPR on the man amidst a crowd of white medical uniforms.
"Hey, what happened?"
George shook his head. "Guy went sour right before got here, just like that." He moved on and met Frank by the entrance.
"Wow." Johnny put his hands on his hips and stared at the door; 'PARENTS and VISITORS ARE REQUESTED TO WAIT IN THE WAITING ROOM – NO SMOKING'.
Then he jumped aside for an orderly with a gurney. And then a nurse with a cart. Rampart Hospital's Emergency department actually wasn't too busy, but there were always a lot of staff around. An old man in a bathrobe wandered past. And a few patients.
Since they obviously had a enough people to work on Morrie, he went down the hall to the base station, but Dr. Morton were busy on a call there. He listened long enough to hear that it was Squad Forty-Five with a kid with a broken leg. Swinging the HT from the strap on his wrist, he moved on. Morton was an okay guy, but not when he was busy. The break room was empty. And no coffee, too.
Flopping down on the sofa, he mentally went over any current dating possibilities. Sally in Pediatrics had made it clear that she was not interested. Tina, in the Administrator's office liked to flirt, but always seemed to have something else to do whenever he asked her out. Ellie in Hematology . . . Amy in the Lab . . . he didn't know if they were working that day. Nurses had schedules worse than firemen. He settled for looking for Sherry in the cafeteria. Maybe she would at least say why she didn't want to go out with him. But when he got there, he found out that she was off that day. At least, that was what the other cashier told him.
He had some coffee with one of the doctors who worked in the burn unit upstairs. Johnny went back to the base station. It was quiet, Dixie McCall sitting on the stool at the counter and filling out a form. She nodded when he asked if Roy was still helping Dr. Brackett with Morrie.
Johnny grimaced. That didn't sound good for Morrie.
- - - End Part 6