In that day and age the bullet proof vests that most police officers wore on a daily basis, at least the ones I've seen, were a simple cloth pullover vest similar to a sleeveless shirt with a pocket in the front and the back covering the middle of the chest and back. Into those pockets were placed protective panels. (Vests that gave greater protection were available for high risk raids and such but were not worn on a daily basis) Not all protective panels were the same and in most cases the police officers had to purchase the protective vest themselves. Many were gifts from wives and loved ones. Since the cost was high for such an item they couldn't always afford the best protective panels. Also the more the protective qualities of the panels the stiffer and more uncomfortable they were to wear but even with the most protective vests they were still vulnerable if the bullet hit them anywhere outside either of the panels. Even if the bullet hit the panels injury was not all together prevented only significantly minimized. Things have changed today, thank heavens.
Lemons, Lemonade, and Squeezing
Captain Stanley quickly moved in the direction of the gunshot only to be pulled back by one of the police officers. Pulling their guns from their holsters, the officers raced in the direction of the bedroom.
It was only a few seconds before one of the police officers returned, but to the men waiting for word of their crew mate it seemed like minutes.
"Gage is asking for hard restraints and for you to ask about a sedative," the officer relayed. It took several seconds for the crew to realize that John must be alright to have given those instructions and let out a collective sigh.
While Roy finished packaging the boy for his ride to the hospital, Hank took Marco with him to offer their kind of restraints until the others were set up. When the two firemen stepped into the bedroom they found the suspect handcuffed and Johnny holding him tight against his chest. Johnny was rocking back and forth with his mouth close to the distraught father's ear. "Shh, Shh, it's going to be alright, It's going to be all right."
Roy came in a moment later with a syringe in his hand and while Captain Stanley and Marco helped Johnny to hold the man still, Roy injected the mild sedative into his shoulder. When he was done he looked to Johnny.
"You all right, Junior?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," Johnny answered, still all business as he moved to help lift his patient onto the gurney. The boy secured to the back board, was carried to the waiting ambulance.
Hank insisted that both Roy and Johnny accompany the patients to the hospital, Roy more to keep track of Johnny than any other reason. As they were loading the last of their equipment into the back of the ambulance Hank made eye contact with Roy and with a quick glance in Johnny's direction got his message across. He assigned Chet to drive the squad to the hospital.
Johnny spent most of the ride in assuring the father that he knew exactly how he felt and that he'd feel better in the morning. Before they arrived at Rampart the boy began to regain consciousness and was showing spontaneous movement in both his arms and legs.
Once at the hospital Johnny went into one treatment room with the father and Roy and the boy were sent into another. Since the father was taking a lot of attention to keep him calm, Roy was released first and quickly got a hold of Dr. Morton to share his and the Captain's concerns for Johnny.
Dr. Morton invited Johnny to sit down to a cup of coffee with him and even though he found the young paramedic quieter than usual he could find no reason not to allow him to return to work.
-0-
The drive back to the station was made in complete, nerve wracking silence; Chet was in the middle and could only look back and forth between Roy and Johnny. He wanted to say something to change the mood in the truck but wasn't sure what he dared say. Roy had to watch the road but whenever he could he'd look past Chet to see his partner sitting with his chin resting in his hand and his elbow resting on the door of the squad. He was totally focused on the windshield, but Roy was sure he wasn't seeing the scenery they were passing by.
When the squad was backed into the station and the engine turned off Roy reached across Chet and took a hold of Johnny's wrist and started counting a pulse.
"I'm fine, Roy," Johnny spoke but made no effort to pull away from the attention he was getting.
Roy finished counting the pulse and let go of his partner's wrist clearly clueless as what to do next. "You've been awfully quiet during the ride back to quarters, Junior."
"So have you, Pally."
"You scared the hell out of us back there, Gage," Chet admonished, finally breaking his silence.
"I know," John responded then opened the door and rolled out of the squad. Marco followed him to the locker room and watched through the window as John washed his face then pulled a book from his locker and made his way to the day room where he sat on the sofa and opened his book.
Captain Stanley sent the rest of his men to get ready for bed and after he watched John sit for five minutes without turning a page in his book, Hank gestured for Mike to keep an eye on John, then stepped into his office, shut the door and called Dr. Brackett.
-0-
The men of Station 51 were mulling around the day room, all of them dressed in their night turnouts and trying not to be obvious in their concern for one overly quiet paramedic. None of the men were willing to leave John alone even if they really didn't know why.
Roy had made a large batch of hot chocolate and had just managed to get his partner to take hold of a mug full when Cap walked in the room followed by Dr. Brackett and Dr. Winslow.
John looked up at the guests but remained in his seated position. "Are there a couple of heavy weight orderlies in the bay with a straight jacket in my size?"
"No," Dr. Winslow smiled, "Just a whole bunch of worried firemen in this room who have already demonstrated they can hold you down if they need to."
John gave a weak smile and nodded his head before silently looking at each man in the room.
"They tell me you had another rough domestic violence case tonight and they're worried about how you're handling everything since it's your first day back."
"The way they've made sure someone's watching me every second since I got back to the station I've kind of figured that out, Doc. The thing of it is, I think they're having a harder time dealing with it than I am, but I just don't know how to help them come to terms with whatever it is they need to come to terms with."
"It sounds to me like it would be best if we all sat down together and talked about it." Dr. Winslow directed and smiled at how fast four of the men found a seat. Captain Stanley pulled the two most comfortable chairs forward and motioned for the two doctors to take them before pulling the next available chair over for himself and sitting down.
"The station has been stood down for one hour while we deal with this," Hank commented before turning total control over to Dr. Winslow.
"Well then, what do you say we start with you telling me what happened tonight." Dr. Winslow opened the doors of communications. Johnny, remaining silent, looked to his partner and gave him a nod to begin.
"We got a call for a child down, with the added message that police had been dispatched," Roy started then paused.
"What's significant about the police being dispatched, don't they respond to all of your calls?"
"Yeah, they do," Captain Stanley spoke up. "But when they add that information to the call out it's their way of telling us they suspect some kind of violence."
"So is that why you sent the engine out when only the squad had been dispatched?" Dr. Winslow revealed he had done his homework here.
"Yeah, if it turned out to be a domestic violence situation I wanted to make sure John had all the support we could give him." Hank admitted feeling a little unnerved that his actions were so transparent to the Doctor.
"Had John shown any signs throughout the day that he might need that extra support?"
"I'm not sure. He's been a little quieter than usual but I just didn't want to take any chances on his first shift back. I was hoping he'd have a chance to settle in before he had to deal with that kind of thing again," Hank admitted.
"All right, so you used your authority to follow them out with the engine crew; what happened once you got there?" Dr, Winslow did his part to move the conversation forward.
"There was a kid, oh, about twelve years old, laid out on the floor, an upturned chair near his head and blood all over the place." Chet picked up the narrative. "John was working on the kid before anyone else had a chance to get into the room. Marco and I were sent for a back board and stuff to immobilize the kid."
"By the time we got back, John and Roy had him bandaged and as soon as they started an IV we helped them ease the kid onto the back board while the police were helping the ambulance attendants up the steps and moving some furniture to make room for their gurney." Marco picked up the details.
Mike took over from there. "Roy was just securing the victim to the back board when the father got all upset and ran from the room. John ran after him and the next thing we heard was a gun shot."
"Did anyone get shot?" Dr. Winslow urged the story forward.
"No," Hank spoke up again. "I guess the gun went off while John was trying to wrestle it away from the guy. But there was a while there where we didn't know what had happened for sure or if John was hurt. The Twit could have gotten himself killed."
"So could have you, the night you stopped me from jumping off the roof of the hospital. When you grabbed me I was so close to the edge either one of you could have been pushed over to your death." John spoke up for the first time in this session. "You of all people, Cap, should know that you should have a life line on before you try and move in on a jumper."
"Yeah, well, we didn't have time for that sort of thing at the time did we? And if we hadn't have acted when we did you could be dead now." Hank rose from his chair pointing his finger at John as the volume of his voice rose.
"If I hadn't have acted when I did tonight that kid's father could be dead right now, and for the very same reasons." John offered a comeback with a defensive tone but level volume to his voice.
"But Johnny you were pumped full of tranquilizers, you didn't know what you were doing." Chet offered further defense in their actions.
"I wasn't thinking straight I'll agree to that, but I knew what I was doing. The guy tonight was drunk, and confused and his judgment was just as affected as mine was, but I didn't take as many chances tonight as you guys did when I needed to be stopped."
"But, Johnny, we were your friends. I knew you'd never do anything to hurt any of us." Roy started to talk, his facial features showing his confusion as to where the conversation was going. "Besides, that guy tonight had beaten the crap out of his son; he deserved to blow his brains out." Roy suddenly froze as he realized what he was saying.
"I'm sure there were plenty of letters that said the same thing about me. You know those ones you hid and wouldn't let me read," Johnny came back.
All of the men who had so carefully hidden those letters turned stunned stares at the friend accusing them.
"I thought we did a pretty good job of keeping you from noticing," Mike gave voice to the group.
"If I was that brain dead they never would have let me come back to work," John snapped back sarcastically.
"There's truth in the saying that you should walk a mile in the man's moccasins before you can judge him. None of us have enough of the facts about what happened tonight nor do we know the man well enough to make the judgment that Roy just made. I've seen pure evil. George Danielson was thrilled at the thought that he'd taken the lives of his innocent children. He was completely enthralled in making his estranged wife suffer as he did everything he could think of to cause her further pain. That man tonight was horrified by what he thought he'd done I knew what he was feeling, I was where he was the night they woke me up at the hospital and tried to get me to remember where I'd left two little girls that I'd kidnapped. He deserved the same chance I got, the chance to sort everything out and think things through with a clear head." John stopped speaking long enough to take in two heavy panting breaths; he then locked eyes with his captain. "I did the right thing tonight. I did the right thing."
The room filled with silence once again, as all eyes locked on John.
"Johnny," Dr. Winslow took control once again, "Tell me in detail what happened after you followed the gentleman from the room tonight."
John sat his book and half drank mug of hot chocolate down on the floor at his feet then rubbed his thighs before leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.
"I knew by what he was saying, while we were packaging his son, that the guy was in the same state I had been. For a while there I was right back in the emergency treatment room trying to wake up and come to terms with what they said I'd done. When he ran from the room I just knew he was in the same place I was when l looked over the edge of the roof and saw the end of all my shame. All the shame I had brought on the department and my friends. I'm not sure how I knew, but I knew he was going to do something because he was in that same place that we talked about when I was first released from lock up," John's full attention was locked on Dr. Winslow as he spoke. "I remembered you saying that the cases like mine, where the decision was made under the influence of mind numbing substances…I just knew I had to stop him. Not just for his sake but for his family's. I remembered what you said about my life mattering to a lot of people and I knew that his life does too. I knew that he was too drunk to think things through and come up with alternatives like we talked about."
Johnny paused and ran his tongue across his teeth. "I followed him into this bedroom; I'm sure it was the master bedroom, he went straight to a dresser drawer and pulled it open. I was trying to tell him that his son was going to be alright when I saw him lift a hand gun from the drawer and point it in the direction of his head. I could tell by the look on his face that he was just as serious as I had been when I looked over the edge of the roof, that he felt just as worthless, like he was a miserable human being that didn't deserve to live. I lunged at him and managed to get a hold of his hand and point the gun upward before he was able to pull the trigger. Then I was able to apply pressure on the nerve in his wrist to keep him from squeezing the trigger again until the police came in and took the gun from his hand and cuffed him. Then I stayed with him until Roy came in with the sedation."
"Was there any given point when the gun was pointed in your direction?" Dr. Winslow clarified more for the benefit of the others in the room than for himself.
"NO," John answered quickly. "Not once. He was just raising it to his head when I took a hold of his wrist and forced it to the ceiling. I even took a split second to remember if there was a room above his before I pointed the gun in that direction."
"It sounds to me that you acted quickly but were clear in your thoughts and still took safety precautions to protect your own life as well." Dr. Winslow's evaluation was as much for everyone in the room as for any other purpose.
"Yes, Sir," John answered succinctly
"So tell me, John, why were you so quiet and contemplative when Dr. Brackett and I first arrived?"
John leaned back against the back of the couch and let out a deep breath. "Several reasons really. I was comparing what happened tonight with where I was just a few weeks ago. Looking back at that time from where I am now is kind of overwhelming to realize just how dark my world was to me then, it feels pretty frightening to remember how close I came to throwing it all away. I've also been thinking about how everyone, all of my friends, well, like we've talked about several times, you and I, how they've found so many ways to hold on to me and give me the hope I needed to hold on to until everything could be worked out. You know, there really is a lot of truth to the saying that suicide is a permanent ending to a temporary problem. I know that I'm really lucky that someone was there to see to it that I had a chance to think things through and realize just how messed up I was."
Johnny took a couple of deep breaths and thought his next words through before speaking.
"I started noticing how everyone was watching me, they have been all day but more so since we all got back from that last run. I, well, I got to wondering what they were afraid I might do. I wonder if they trust me to do my job, if they can trust me in the heat of things to cover their backs and I don't know what to do to find out for sure or what to do if I'm right." John paused and took a deep, thinking breath. "I'm not sure how to convince them that I'm not all messed up any more, that I can cover their backs. The reason I'm still seeing you is to learn how to deal with what I saw so that I'll be able to sleep at night. I don't need to convince myself to keep living anymore."
The room once again filled with silence and Dr. Winslow checked his watch realizing that the time the fire department had allotted them was nearly over.
"I think John asked a good question. What are the rest of you afraid of? It must have been very frightening to see someone you care about nearly throw his life away. How do you feel now? Can you trust John to cover your backs?"
The room rumbled with unanimous confirmation that John was good at his job and could be trusted; Dr. Bracket nodded in agreement. They were all caught in thought not sure how to voice how they felt now.
"I think," Roy hesitantly started off, "that we all felt so helpless as we watched Johnny struggle with his emotions, and self worth before. It took us a while to find out just what happened to him and we all wanted to, I guess we wanted to somehow take all the pain and anguish away from him but there was nothing we could do to help him. I think we're all still trying to find ways to let him know how important he is to all of us."
"You had said that he was vulnerable," Captain Stanley started to find words for his feelings. "I guess we, or at least I am still thinking of him that way. I'm still in disbelief that someone who has always been so full of life could ever even considered taking his own. I still feel guilty that we allowed him to be locked up. I'm not sure what to expect from him after a situation like we had tonight. Now that I've heard him tell me what happened in his words, I can tell that he was in control and was just more in tune to what was going on than the rest of us."
"I realized something tonight that I've never realized before." Roy looked straight ahead at the air before him as he toyed with his own fingers. "We call it rule number one, we're told not to get emotionally involved with the patients that we treat because it will interfere with our objectivity and burn us out personally. Sometimes to get through a bad run we start telling ourselves, like I did tonight, that the person deserved it. I'm going to have to work on correcting that tendency in the future."
"I think we're the ones who needed this counseling session more than Johnny," Mike spoke introspectively. "There were a lot of things that were talked about tonight that I didn't know I was worried about. I almost always worry about Johnny, he always puts everything he is and has on the line for the sake of a patient or for any one of us. I'm not now nor have I ever been worried that he wouldn't or couldn't back up any one of us, or even protect us with his own life if need be. I'm just not sure he knows that his life is just as valuable as anyone else's and that he needs to look out for himself a little more than he does."
"I second that motion," Marco spoke up, "especially the part about trusting him with my life and the part that I don't want him to get hurt in the process."
"Third," Chet spoke with a raise of his hand.
"Me four." Roy repeated the motion.
"Five here," Captain Stanley added. "I could always do with a little less paperwork."
"Make that six," Dr. Brackett added his two cents worth. "I put a lot of work into training you two, but not nearly as much as you put into training me. You both make a difference out there but you need to stay healthy to keep doing that."
Dr. Winslow watched Johnny's reaction to all his station family had to say. He also knew that Johnny could tell by his silence that he was waiting for Johnny to speak. There was clearly something more on the young man's mind at the moment. Whether it was something he felt he could talk about in front of the group or something that needed to wait for a private session, Dr. Winslow didn't know. His way of finding out at the moment was to let the silence linger.
"You know," Johnny started to talk and leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees. "The last few weeks have been real hard on me. Something I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. I didn't know it was possible to be so, so. . . . I can't think of a word that's dark enough, horrible enough, to describe the despair I've felt at times. All I've wanted to do is forget, forget every piece of what happened to me. And then tonight, something happened, something good happened because of it all. I don't know if I would have understood what was happening in time to save that guy if I hadn't have gone through all this myself."
Johnny became silent but was clearly trying to find words for his feelings. "I don't know what I'm trying to say really, it's just so hard to think of anything good coming out of what I've been through."
Dr. Winslow remained silent, he was prepared to say something but hoped someone else would say it first.
"Is this an example of when life hands you a lemon you can either turn into a sour puss or squeeze everything out of it and make lemonade," Chet supplied the metaphor that was needed.
Roy spoke up. "I'd have to say Johnny has certainly done that. He has really done a lot of good for a lot of people."
"Doc," Johnny looked up, "Am I ever going to be myself again?"
"That's a heavy question Johnny; we're going to have to explore what you mean by being yourself. Sadly most people who endure the kinds of things you have say they'll never be the same again. When I look at you I think of the metaphor that the grind of life either wears you down or polishes you up, it depends on what you're made of. In the few weeks that I've known you I've seen a diamond not sandstone."
The silence lingered longer than any other moment since the two doctors arrived.
"So what do we do now?" Mike asked.
"I guess the first thing that needs to happen is that Cap has to decide if he thinks I can do my job or if I need to go home." Johnny put forth the motion.
"John, I want you to know, I never questioned if you could do your job and you have been the ultimate professional. My fear has been what your job is going to do to you. Unless the doctor's feel otherwise I'd like you to finish your shift, and be back for all the rest."
"I don't see anything that will compromise his recovery," Dr. Winslow offered.
"Me either," Dr. Brackett added.
"Good, then I'll, um, I'll sleep out here on the sofa so that I don't wake anyone up tonight." Johnny said, hesitantly.
"I don't think so," Hank sounded like the commander that he was. "You'll sleep better in your bunk; if we get woke up we'll deal with it."
"Yeah, I think we'll all sleep a little better if we have you where we can keep an eye on you," Chet added.
"I agree with Chet," Mike said, looking at Johnny. "Not that we don't trust you or anything, we just all want to keep an eye on you, that's all."
The rest of the crew motioned in silent agreement and the doctors said their good-byes so that the crew could make their way to bed.
John was positioning his turn out pants and boots when Marco approached him with an extra pillow. "I know you've been taught to use a pillow to stay calm; I found this one in the linen closet."
Chet silently moved in with a bucket full of water and set it on the floor at the foot of John's bunk.
"What's that for, Chet?" Roy asked. John leaned over the edge of his bed and looked into the bucket to see several ice cubes floating at the top.
"In case he starts sleepwalking," Chet answered matter of factly as groans of displeasure filled the dorm. "What do you want me to do, tell him a bedtime story?"
"Hey, that's a good idea," Roy jumped to attention. "Johnny would you like me to tell you a bedtime story?"
"I'd probably fall asleep before you were done Roy," Johnny responded to the teasing with a smirk. "Why don't we save it for another night."
"I think this is a good night to break this in," Captain Stanley walked in carrying the Dream Catcher that he had been storing in his truck since Johnny made it and gave it to him. "John, where's the best place to hang this thing so it will catch all the bad dreams around here?"
Together the crew decided to hang it from the rafter that ran down the middle of the dorm at a position nearly equal distance from each bunk.
It was Mike that climbed on the dividing walls to hand the cultural decoration. When that was done Hank declared lights out.
Johnny lay still in the darkness. He could feel every eye in the station on him even though he knew most of them couldn't see him.
He knew his next session with Dr. Winslow would be spent explaining why his life wasn't worth as much as the others on his crew. Roy, Cap, Mike all had wives and children who needed them, Marco a large extended family and Chet had a brother and sister and mother counting on him. John had no one outside his firefighting family. But then he did have all of them.
In the light of the moon that filtered through the windows, John could see the dream catcher spin in the air currents from the air conditioner. As it turned John pictured a radar satellite watching for all incoming missiles like the one on the aircraft carrier in the book he was reading.
Feeling safer than he had in weeks, John's eyes grew heavy as thoughts floated through his mind. Was he liked and cared for because he had a good soul or did he have a good soul because he was liked and cared for? That sounded like another question to bring up with Dr. Winslow.
Sleep came, sweet peaceful sleep.
The End