Passing

by Rosalind B

Chapter 8 - Hot Mess

Last time: CJ got a ride from Capt. Robertson, and her wall began to break.

Theodore Small looked up from his desk at the Alameda Press. Before him stood the star photographer. Her face still had soot, her boots were muddy, her hair was singed, and a patch of fabric from her borrowed jacket was burned. But her camera was perfectly protected.

"Cynthia Jenkins," she introduced herself and offered her hand. The other reporters stared at the young woman.

"Theodore Small, city editor." He shook her hand. "Ladies' room is down the hall to the right." CJ nodded her thanks, and headed to the bathroom. Seeing herself in a proper light, CJ realized why Theodore sent her there.

Her hair belonged to Medusa, some of it loose from the pony tail holder, singed. The jacket and her face had dirt on them. She pumped some soap from the dispenser into her hands. Just as CJ was about to lather her face, she looked in the mirror. The soot had darkened her skin.

She didn't see her father in the mirror.

For the first time in her life, Cynthia saw her mother.

The wall cracked some more.

CJ took a breath, then quickly washed her face. Next she rearranged her hair, wincing at the sudden pain in her shoulder. She didn't look in the mirror again, afraid of the side she tended to deny. Satisfied she was half way decent, CJ took another deep breath and headed back to Small's office.

"I know you need to get home, Cynthia so I'll get right to it," Small said. "These photos-couldn't ask for better. And with the television report adding drama, everyone's going to want to see how close you guys were to being trapped."

"And how hard these guys have it. People take them for granted, and that's wrong," CJ replied. Small nodded his head.

"You're right. If you want, we can publish in parts. The fire photos first run, then you can call me tomorrow and let me interview you. We'll run it as a personal interest story with the command center photos."

CJ nodded. "Sounds good. I'll call you first thing." She had the sudden urge to go home. She wanted only a warm bath and bed and a good cry. If she didn't leave then, CJ felt she'd fall apart right at Small's desk. Mercifully, Small shook her hand and said, "Get some sleep."

CJ got her bath. She had to shower lightly first to get the dirt that just wouldn't go away off. Then she set the tub and bubbles. It relieved some of the distress, but not all. Once the water got cold she reluctantly eased herself out and put on her comfy flannels. Her shoulder stung and ached, but she forced herself to ignore it. Pete Roselli brought over dinner, but CJ had no appetite.

She finally checked her answering machine.

"Honey, it's Uncle Mickey and Aunt Mary. We know you're okay, but just wanted to check in. Saw you on tv. Terry got word to us that you guys were alright but you might have hurt your shoulder. Call us when you can."

I knew they'd be first.

"Cynnnnthia darling! It's Aunt Elmira-I mean Elmira. I just saw the news report. My god! Do you need anything? Please call-I mean, when you can of course. Not being pushy."

At least she's trying to be respectful, gotta give her credit.

"Cynthia, it's Dr. Westin. I have a slot open tomorrow morning at 10:30. I'll be at my office at Rampart General. You don't have to call back, just come in."

She's a freaking mind reader.

"Cynthia-I mean CJ. This is Mrs. Stanley, Hank's wife. I was at the station today with the guys and saw the report. We're glad you're okay, but the guys are very worried. I'm sure there's a ton of people calling you, but if you could get in touch with me or them? I can come over if you need anything."

Wow, Mrs. Cap? How sweet!

"Hi Thia. Um, I'ma get right to it. I was scared for you. I'm glad you're okay, but you didn't look right on the television. I know I was insensitive the other day-well, I really want to just hold you, doll. Call me."

Oh god how I want to CB. But I can't, not yet. I need tonight to breathe.

Tears slid down CJ's face. She wanted to call all of them-even Elmira. She wanted Chet to hold her desperately. But she wasn't ready. She needed to regain control of the grief and the pain. She made a list of the people who called and promised herself to contact each one in the morning after seeing Dr. Westin. CJ then changed her mind and made one call right then.

"Los Angeles County Fire Department, Paramedic Roy DeSoto speaking."

"Roy, it's CJ."

"Hey! How are you?" Roy signaled to Johnny that CJ was on the line. Johnny stood by the phone.

"I-I'm not sure. Seeing Dr. Westin tomorrow. Um, Mrs. Cap called. I didn't want you guys to worry or send out a search party."

"You sure you don't need me and Johnny to take a look at you? We're just hanging around."

"No, really, it's-it's- I'm not really hurt-I think." CJ was losing her composure.

Johnny jumped up and down signaling to Roy to give him the phone.

"Hey Johnny just wants to say hi, then we'll let you go. We'll tell Cap you checked in." Roy handed Johnny the phone, whispering "I think she's hurt. See if you can get her to let us go by."

"Hey twin!" Johnny said. "What's shakin'?"

CJ thought for a moment.

"A lot for a while there," she answered.

Johnny caught her tone, and didn't like what he heard.

"Hey Sis, Cap Williams called over and told us what went on. Why don't you let us come by? It's slow here, Roy needs the practice."

CJ laughed. "Okay," she relented "But only if you're really not busy."

Johnny gave Roy the thumbs up. "Be there in five."

Roy called it in, and the squad was off. Just as they began to pull out, the engine crew pulled in.

"Cap, talked to CJ, we're going over there."

"Got it!" Stanley answered. Chet breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe CJ wasn't ready to talk to him, but at least the best paramedics in the county were going to see her.

Roy gently examined CJ's shoulder and dressed her burns. He sighed.

"You've got some burns here for sure. Looks like first degree but you'll need it checked out." Johnny already checked her vitals. He was comfortable with the readings, but didn't like CJ's emotional responses.

"I'm going to be at Rampart tomorrow to see my therapist. I'll stop by the ER afterward," she said.

Johnny looked at his "twin" with concern.

"Well I can't find anything else wrong, physically. But Sis, you just look-well-beaten. We have some time, do you want to talk?"

CJ shook her head.

"Not now, thanks though. But I did meet an old friend of yours today."

The medics looked at each other.

"Does the name Bob Robertson from Station 10 Ensinol Caynon ring a bell?"

"Holy shit! Tall guy, gruff voice?" Johnny asked. Roy's eyes stayed wide.

"Yep, that's him. He drove me to the newspaper office. We stopped at a diner. Said I reminded him of you. Seems we both tuck our food in our cheek when we want to talk." CJ laughed at her two friends' incredulous look.

"Guess we are twins after all," she continued.