"TV versus Reality"
Chapter Twenty-One
Twenty minutes later, Captain Stanley and his crew returned to the Station.
Chet climbed wearily down from the Engine. "I'm gonna go see if there's any news on Johnny," he somberly said and started heading for the radio in the rec' room.
The rest of the soot be-smudged firefighters stared after him for a few solemn seconds and then silently filed off in the direction of the washroom.
The crew straggled into their darkened sleeping quarters ten minutes later, washed up, inside and out. After fighting a warehouse fire for nine hours straight, the firemen were literally asleep on their feet.
"Why is it," Marco asked no one in particular, "there's never anyone available to relieve us, but we're always getting called to relieve other crews?"
Stoker groped his way over to his bunk and started sliding the suspenders of his bunker pants off. "Chet's always bragging up our bionic bodies. Maybe THEY are beginning to believe him?"
Brice managed a skeptical snort.
Roy stepped out of the bottom half of his turnouts and stared off across the aisle at his partner's bunk. Through the dim light filtering in from the doorway to the garage, he discerned a familiar form sprawled out upon the bed. DeSoto stood there in the dark, looking and feeling very depressed. "Henry's still keeping his vigil..."
John let out a weary sigh. "You guys wanna keep it down? You're gonna wake up Krieger!" he warned in a whisper. "And he's got an awfully fast draw when he's startled!"
The men had frozen at the sound of their missing friend's sleepy voice. They stood there for a few moments—too shocked to move or speak.
"Ga-age?" Captain Stanley called out in amazement and numbly reached out to flick on the dorm lights.
The room brightened and the guys all gazed down at Gage as though they were looking at a ghost.
"Yeah, Cap?" John called back, propping himself up on his elbows and opening his hurting eyes a crack.
Kelly came racing into the room. "He's alive!" he enthusiastically declared. "He's alive!" When no one reacted to his joyous revelation, he followed their gazes over to Gage's bunk...and did a beautiful double take! "Baloney?"
Gage grimaced and pressed a finger to his cracked lips. "Shhhhhh!" he warned, then he pointed to Krieger's snoring form and whispered, "He's sleeping with a gun!"
The firemen looked even more shocked.
"What are you doing here? You okay? Who's Krieger?" his happy partner pondered in one long whispered breath.
The rest of Station 51's equally ecstatic crew congregated around Gage's bunk, anxiously awaiting some answers.
"I was trying to sleep. I'm fine. And that's Officer Krieger from the LAPD. He drove me home."
Stinky stood there with a silly grin on his face. "I don't believe it...We thought you were dead!"
"Well, I'm not," John assured them. "But you guys sure must be!" He fluffed his pillow, straightened his blankets and dropped back onto his bed. "So what da yah say we all try ta get some...sleep," his squinting eyes closed and he was instantly asleep.
His friends just stood there for a few more moments, resting their hands on their hips and exchanging smiles and grins.
"You heard the man," Stanley whispered. "Let's all try to get some sleep!" The Captain crawled into his bunk, flicked the overhead lights back off, and then lay there, grinning up at the ceiling.
Less than three hours later…
The sun came filtering through the dorm windows.
Henry got up from the foot of John's bunk, walked over the fireman's sleeping form and nuzzled him in the back of the neck.
Gage grinned and snickered. Then his eyes snapped open and he jerked awake. He stared across the aisle at the sleeping figure of his fellow firefighter and friend—and untensed. He flashed his unconscious partner a warm smile and then turned his gaze to the jumpy cop just across the center aisle. He saw Krieger sleeping with his head on his holster and his smile broadened back into a grin.
Henry whimpered and nuzzled the back of his neck again.
"Okay! Okay!" John whispered irritatedly. "I'm up! I'm up!" He went to get up. He couldn't move. "Henry, will yah get off my back?"
The dog dropped obediently to the floor.
The fireman still found it extremely difficult to get out of bed. He just didn't have the energy to move. Somehow he managed to slip into his clothes. He picked up his shoes and went to stand.
Waves of dizziness came over him. He shook the cobwebs from his whoozy head and started stumbling over to the door to the apparatus bay.
John sat down on the back bumper of the Squad, to put his shoes on. "We're not gonna make it to the park this morning," he told the whining dog and reluctantly got to his feet.
The paramedic took Henry's leash from a hook on the rec' room wall and began heading for the front door with it.
The happy pooch beat him to the door and pawed excitedly at it.
Gage clipped the leash to the dog's collar and watched as the Basset hound's entire body quivered with anticipation. He smiled, shook his head, dropped the leash and opened the door.
The dog dashed out onto the front lawn and ran in tight little circles, sniffing the grass and wagging its tail.
John sat down on the front porch to watch him. He took in several deep lungfuls of the crisp morning air. The extra oxygen helped clear his head.
Henry sniffed every square inch of the lawn before trotting over and saluting the flagpole. He kicked up some turf with his hind feet and headed for the porch at a regal trot. The dog grabbed a hold of the fireman's pant leg and started backing up, growling and grumbling ferociously.
John braced himself and hung onto the porch for dear life. "Not today, Kid! I couldn't even make it across the street!"
Henry stopped tugging and reluctantly relaxed his jaws.
The paramedic's leg dropped and he pulled it back.
The disappointed pooch trotted past Gage and back into the garage, grumbling disgustedly beneath his doggy breath.
The fireman stared after the grumbling mutt, looking utterly amazed. Then he snickered, got slowly to his feet and went back inside the Station himself.
The first member of Captain Donnelly's B-Shift crew arrived just as the Station's 'wake up' tones sounded.
"What's that squad car doing out in the parking—?" Bob Curen stopped right in mid-question as he finally realized who it was that he was questioning. His jaw dropped. "Gage? You're supposed to be dead!"
Gage gave his fellow paramedic an incredulous stare. "Gee…Sorry ta disappoint you."
The fireman flashed him back a grin.
Captain Stanley and the rest of his crewmates came stumbling into the garage just then—looking half-asleep on their feet. They shuffled wordlessly past the two paramedics and disappeared into the day room.
One of the two completely ignored persons turned to the open doorway, looking tremendously disappointed. "Is Henry the only one around here who's glad to see me?"
Chet poked his head back into the apparatus bay. "You were the first one up, John! Why didn't you put the coffee on?"
John looked rather indignant. "Didn't anybody miss me?"
"For Pete's sake, Gage! You were only gone four days!" Kelly reminded the pouting paramedic and then he disappeared back into the day room.
The ignored fireman looked even more forlorn. "Well…I missed yous," he quietly confided.
Curen gave his sad colleague a sympathetic pat on the back and then watched as a police officer came running out of the dorm with his shirt unbuttoned and his holstered gun slung over his shoulder.
"Goodbye, Mister Gage!" Krieger shouted. "And thanks for the use of the bed!"
"Whoa-oah!" Mister Gage latched onto the policeman's arm as he raced past them, and pulled him to a stop. "What's your rush? Stick around…have a cup a' coffee...some break—"
"—Can't!" Krieger interrupted and slipped his arm free of his gracious host's grasp. "Becker'll have my hide if I don't get that squad car back in time for morning roll!" The officer backed out of the garage and bumped into Captain Donnelly. "Excuse me," he told Donnelly on his way out the door.
Donnelly looked puzzled then he turned to John and gave him a pleasantly surprised look.
"Humph!" Gage grunted. "When he bumped into me, he pulled his gun!" The perturbed paramedic turned away from the back door and started heading for the day room. He met up with his Captain, who had gone out to fetch the morning paper.
"Congratulations, pal!" Hank told him. "You made the front page—again!" He flashed the frowning photogenic fireman the picture, and then they strolled into the rec' room together.
John got a few handfuls of hastily made confetti dropped onto his head and a bottle of very cold water spilt down the back of his neck.
"Ta da!" Chet shouted.
Gage shivered. Then he lifted his soggy head up, shook some of the confetti from his hair and opened his eyes. He grinned, seeing his grinning friends huddled all around him. "You did miss me!"
"Well, of course we missed you, yah twit!" Stanley assured him. "It's been like a morgue around here!"
There followed much backslapping, handshaking, and wisecracking.
When things settled down some, John crossed over to the kitchen sink and poured himself a tall glass of water. He gulped it down…then another...and another. Next, he stepped up to the fridge. "What's to eat in here? I'm famished!"
"Forget the fridge!" Lopez told him and held the appliance's door shut. Then he took Gage by the shoulders, ushered him over to the table and sat him down. "Chet's already fixed up something special—just for you."
Kelly placed a plate down in front of him.
John stared down at the dish's contents and broke into a broad grin.
Chet's special something was a big bologna sandwich!
The famished fireman was about to thank Stinky for his first meal in four days, when a sharp, searing pain suddenly shot through his left temple.
Gage grimaced and shut his eyes—tightly—in an attempt to block out the horrendous hurting in his head, but the pain remained and soon became unbearable.
John groaned—involuntarily—and started reaching for his aching head.
TBC