Fragile Chapter 38
Nearing the entry of the burning structure, Johnny and Ricky were blasted by intense waves of heat and a wall of boiling deep black smoke. Enormous tongues of greedy flame leapt through the murky smoke in search of oxygen, and perhaps potential victims.
Johnny reached the doorway two steps ahead of his partner. Turning he called back to Ricky, "Let's make it quick man, this building isn't gonn'a last long."
Silently Ricky nodded agreement, and both men crouched lower to the ground as they dove into the seemingly impenetrable wall of heat and smoke.
Chet and Marco hurriedly began hosing down the opening of the building in hopes they'd be able to control the inferno long enough for their buddies to conduct a search of the relatively small structure. Other engine companies had arrived and were busily protecting the building exposures in order to keep the flames from setting any number of fuel storage and transport areas ablaze.
Inside the structure Johnny gestured for Ricky to move toward the left while Johnny headed off for the right. The interior of the edifice was one open room with some crates and drums stacked in neat rows in the center and various pieces of equipment scattered around the outside walls. Both first responders began a methodical search of the perimeter, which as luck would have it quickly helped them locate the missing man.
The refinery worker was lying in a heap on the floor between a stack of drums and the back wall on Ricky's side of the building. Even in the semi darkness of the smoke filled room Ricky could guess what had happened. The injured man's clothes face and hands were blackened from what were probably flash burns. Blisters from second degree burns were already beginning to form on the victim's left hand, face and neck. There were patches of blackened skin on the man's hands and face too where third degree burns were no doubt present. On the concrete near the man lay a spilled pack of cigarettes, and several feet from the victim the remnants of what looked to be a lighter indicated the guy had probably ducked into the place to have a clandestine cigarette encounter.
Ricky shook his head sadly. 'Man! This guy should have looked around before he tried to light up. All these barrels of chemicals….. All the fumes….. Not the place for a smoke break buddy.' He thought while kneeling to check the man for signs of life.
As Ricky reached for a carotid pulse, Johnny came upon the pair. "He alive?" Johnny quarried.
Ricky looked up nodding. "Yeah, barely."
"Let's get him and get out'a here." Johnny called hastily glancing around him at remnants of two or three burned out barrels of what had likely been fuel or chemicals of some sort. "It's too hot in here to do anything more than grab and go."
Both men bent down, and between them gently lifted their victim before beating a hasty retreat from the building.
Once outside, the paramedics moved their patient to a dry spot of pavement near squad 51. Rampart was contacted, an airway secured with O2 administered, I.V.'s were started and burns were covered and doused with saline. The refinery worker never stirred while treatment commenced, and both medics realized with observable airway burns the prognosis for their victim was dire.
"I'll ride in with him Ricky. Why don't you bring in the squad." Johnny remarked while gathering up and hefting the drug box and Biophone into the back of the newly arrived ambulance.
Ricky's expressive face and sad green eyes reflected his perception of the seriousness of the patient's condition. To him, it seemed such an unnecessary injury this poor fellow had suffered. With a heavy sigh he nodded his understanding to Johnny, and silently turned to head for squad 51.
After Johnny and Ricky left their as yet unconscious patient in the care of the good people of Rampart, the radio never let a moment of peace enter their afternoon and evening. They were dispatched to one minor call after another, and not one of those calls offered them a chance to transport anyone to Rampart, or an opportunity to return to station 51. Steady tedium, that's all they could recall about the remainder of the day.
Darkness had fallen by the time Johnny finally was able to back squad 51 into her place in the station apparatus bay. With a heavy sigh he turned off the vehicle's ignition and rubbed gritty tired eyes with a weary hand. "Man! I'm beat."
Ricky picked up the radio handset and with a sense of impending doom reluctantly called in "L.A., squad 51 in quarters."
Glancing over to where Johnny still sat motionless, Ricky acknowledged his partner's statement with a weary nod. "No kiddin'. What a day."
Johnny opened his door and slowly climbed from the squad. "Come on, let's find some chow before…" But any good fireman new finishing that sentence would surely break the spell cast by their current respite.
Both men made eye contact, and a matching weary smirk echoed itself in both faces. "Don't want to rouse the fire God's anger by mentioning the pace of the day." The words were unspoken, but both knew each was contemplating the same sentiment.
Trudging into the day room the medics were greeted by three exhausted though seemingly freshly showered firemen. Marco, Chet and Mike glanced up from the table where they had been sipping coffee and visiting.
"Hey guys, your dinner is in the oven." Marco offered.
Johnny sighed, and turned to walk toward the oven. "Thanks Marco." He mumbled while he walked.
Chet's blue eyes followed Johnny's progress through the kitchen. "Is that guy gonna make it." He softly quarried his friend.
Johnny shrugged his shoulders. "Not sure, but it doesn't look good….. Looked like he'd breathed in some really hot air."
The assembled men all silently allowed the news to sink in.
Chet slowly shook his head. "Man, what a waste."
But they all knew mishaps such as the one they'd just worked happened every day because of human error, or carelessness. This was one of those hard facts they faced constantly. So the silence between them stretched as men returned to reading, sipping or eating.
The evening brought blessed relief from the mundane for the men of 51's. Things were oddly quiet in their little corner of LA. Given the fun filled nature of the day though, most had wandered toward the dorm before ten o'clock.
Early Thursday morning Roy awoke to yet another changing of the guard in his hospital room. Glancing over to the chair beside his bed he silently observed his sister-in-law Eileen sitting quietly reading a book of some sort.
Not wishing to startle her, Roy cautiously cleared his throat.
Without delay, familiar green eyes looked up from the book the woman held in her lap. "Ah, you're awake." She set her book aside and rose from her chair to come over to the bedside.
Roy nodded. "Yeah." He croaked from a parched throat. "What are you doin' here?"
Eileen smiled indulgently at Roy while filling his water glass. "I got a call from Emily Stanley…."
Roy groaned, leaned back into his pillows and closed his eyes. "You too?" He grumbled discontentedly.
Eileen rested a gentle hand on Roy's thigh. "Yes, though I'll have to admit I was a little surprised when it turned out to be a friend calling for my help rather than my sister and brother-in-law." Her voice held a scold for Roy.
Roy opened his eyes then to regard his sister-in-law. "Eileen…." The tone was imploring.
Eileen squelched his remarks with a negative head shake. "Roy! Why didn't you call me when Jo got hurt?"
Roy pressed his lips together in silent frustration. "Honestly Eileen, we didn't need the help at home until I landed here." He defended, and his eyes swept the room around him in undisguised disgust. "Then well…." He glanced dolefully toward his disabled wrists. "I couldn't exactly pick up the phone. Besides, you have a family of your own to care for at home."
Eileen offered Roy the straw to the water glass while expressing her displeasure with a negative head nod.
"You and Jo are family too." She chastised.
Defeated, Roy sighed heavily. "I know Eileen. It's just….well, I had everything under control, and didn't want to bother you unnecessarily."
"Um hmm." Eileen growled softly. "Under control, eh?"
Roy's gaze met Eileen's piercing green eyes. Her visage expressed her ire, indignation and a glimmer of taunting subtle amusement. An exasperated sigh left Roy with a whoosh.
Roy set his jaw in a defiant clench. "Yes, under control." He declared. But he knew the irony of the entire situation, and his personal propensity to organize events around him had already been processed and digested by Eileen.
In a move for deflection of the uncomfortable spotlight in which he now felt he was bathed, Roy opted to change the direction of the conversation. "Speaking of family, who is taking care of your brood while you are here?"
Eileen knew what Roy was doing, and had no intention of allowing him to detour her from nailing him on being a control freak. Planting both hands on her hips she held his defiant gaze with of her own stern stare.
The kids went up to visit with Mom for a few days." Then she smiled wickedly. "Mom offered to come down and take care of Jo, but I figured…." With a sardonically arched brow, she allowed the sentence to dangle unfinished in the air.
Roy shivered involuntarily considering the unspoken prospect of his mother-in-law coming to spend time at his home while he was in such a weakened condition. He couldn't avoid the negative head nod he offered while he silently visualized the consequences.
"Uh God! Harriet around to see me like this. No thank you! O.K., I guess Eileen has a point." He thought before again meeting Eileen's penetrating stare. "And Eileen knows how much I'd hate it." Then he sighed in resignation. "And just like Jo, she knows this weak helpless thing is killing me. How did these people figure me out? I thought I had everything under control. Everything in place. Things like this are just not supposed to happen to guys like me. But then again…. " Roy sighed involuntarily. "Hmmm…wonder how many people caught by the fickle finger of fate have thought exactly the same thing? I guess things happen, and they have to happen to someone. I just don't like being that someone!"
Roy's protracted silence, and the emotions flickering across his face were not lost on Eileen. She smiled warmly at him now while patiently allowing him to ponder possibilities.
When Roy's eyes again met Eileen's he smiled wanly in surrender. "All right, all right…. Ya got me there."
Eileen chuckled knowingly.
Roy's smile warmed a bit. "And I am glad to see you. Just wish it were under different circumstances."
Roy's Thursday progressed pretty much as he'd expected. There was the inevitable bodily elimination call, bed bath, sheet change and of course change of gown which gratefully Eileen stepped out of the room for. Then breakfast was served, and Roy found himself on the receiving end of Eileen's gentle teasing and feeding. Next morning meds were delivered, and then the now expected by Roy, lassitude brought about by the medication.
Roy was awakened from his morning nap by the arrival of Dr. Brackett. After an extensive exam, Brackett proclaimed that if Roy continued to improve at his current progression, discharge from purgatory (a.k.a. Rampart) could come as early as the following day.
Roy greeted the news with delight. Now he knew how Johnny felt when similar news was brought during one of any number of hospital stays.
Roy's wrists having had three full days of rest were improving nicely. He could now press the call button, or scratch an itch on his own. He found he could even greatly assist with his own feeding. Perhaps in another day he would be able to manage more of his personal hygiene needs with further healing for those wrists.
Yes, things were indeed looking up for Roy. Now how was he going to manage life at home? Busily his mind began to consider possibilities, problems and potential solutions. Planning after all is essential for controlling chaos.
Momentarily Roy paused in his silent planning, suddenly aware of what he was doing. He had to smile to himself in that mement. "Am I a contol freak?" With a subtle shivver he shook his head. Maybe everyone around him was correct. Were there just some things that simply could not be controled? Again shaking his head, Roy squirmed in bed in his discomfort.
Glancing up from his private ruminations Roy's eyes met Eileen's. She smiled knowingly at him before returning her attention to her novel.
Roy shook himself mentally. Too much information to consider. "Think I'll take a nap."
Authors Note: Happy New Year everyone!