Dixie McCall turned in an analyzing circle in an open spot, eyeing up every movement of her fellow staff in Rampart's E.D. Mindfully, she opened her fists which always clenched during intense periods of task delegating and took in a deep breath of relief when she realized that everyone had all their bases covered. "That's it. That's all we can do." she mumbled to herself. "My task is done."
"It's never done, Dixie." came a friendly tap on her shoulder. McCall glanced down to see the steaming coffee mug that had been encouraged to nudge her in Dr. Morton's hand. "Here. I thought you could use some more."
Dixie laughed. "Am I that frazzled looking?" she asked, sipping absently from the cup.
Mike grinned. "Never. It's that perfect doo of yours. Every hair always in the right place."
"Blame the starched hat. It's brutal by needing eight bobby pins to stay on top of my head."
she scoffed. "I'll be glad for the day Admin decides they're a contamination risk in exam rooms. They're the only things we don't cover up with gowns or masks in between patients."
"Wow, I've never even considered that angle. It's true, Dixie. Have you brought that up at a meeting?" Morton shrugged, angling his head.
"I haven't had time, Mike. What head nurse has any extra to get creative, policy wise?"
They both looked up when the lights flickered.
"Already?" Mike said, slapping his coffee down onto Dixie's desk and moving over to the fire department radio speaker to turn up the live transmissions.
"That's the main generator coming on line." McCall reassured him. "I recognize the dimming pattern."
Mike relaxed and rescued his coffee again to drink it down whole as he listened to L.A. rattle off incidents and calls and response crews. "Nothing big yet.
Just some animal control officers being dispatched."
"Don't tempt fate, Mike. That's like saying the "Q" word." Joe Early replied,
stepping up to them with his latest patient chart. "Hi, Dix. Ms. Doone's lab results are so ordered. She'll be feeling better once we rebalance a few electrolytes."
"What was her issue?" Dr. Morton asked Dr. Early. "She walked in here weaving like a drunken sailor."
"It was probably dehydration. Her blood alcohol was zero and her blood sugar levels are normal. She has no sign of diabetes, nor any history of it in her family."
"How are her kidneys?" McCall asked dubiously. "I dumped two bags of NS into her ten minutes ago."
"Not yet peeing like a racehorse, but soon, I expect." Early became distracted by the fire department scanner and he pursed his lips,
pausing a mid coffee mug pour, from the staff's hot pot. "Crickets chirping." he finally said.
"Yep." said both Mike and McCall. "We thought so, too.
"First time all summer. Feels... kind of ominous." Joe shivered.
"Doesn't have to be. It could be a crest at the top of the hill finally."
Dixie chided. "All fires die off with a little help."
"A lot of help in this case." came another male voice. Dr. Brackett joined their little group behind the E.R. desk. His eyes roamed over the quiet base station light indicator only briefly as he joined their impromptu coffee club. "The Cistern Fire's the biggest one this state's ever seen, and we've still the Santa Anas yet to come."
"Not for weeks." Mike replied. "We might get lucky and snag an atmospheric river."
McCall groaned. "I don't know. That might be worse than this fire.
A bunch of mud slides from too much rain?"
"Can't win in California." Joe sighed. "Not since the gold rush.
So what's new?"
"Johnny called this morning, all excited." McCall smiled.
"Oh, yeah?" Joe grinned back. "What about? It's nice to hear he's cheering up again. I've been worried about him."
"So have we all." retorted Mike.
"He's got a new hobby working the animal shelter as an officer."
Nurse McCall shared. "But I'm half in knots. It'll be no easy ride along for him, because of losing Boot."
"I disagree. Klutzy though Johnny is, he's got a stern constitution when he puts his mind to it." Dr. Brackett chuckled. "I can't say I didn't see it coming that he'd decide to pick up a dog noose and put on a pound's hat. The man does own an animal ranch. I fully expect to see him, actually ride up to the front doors on a horse with a patient one of these days."
All four of them laughed loud and long.
Life took a break that hour, letting Rampart rest.
Johnny Gage still could not contain his inner excitement. He actually had butterflies in his stomach like a rookie. He glanced at his training animal control officer, Dave Gordon. "Boy, am I nervous." the paramedic chuckled weakily.
"What's there to be nervous about?" asked Dave. "You're a pro. It can't be about this fire thing." The dark skinned, early forties man smiled. "It's your usual playground, Johnny."
Gage dropped his head. "Is there such a thing as deveilping an inferiority complex when it comes to dealing with dogs?"
"I feel that way about cats one hundred percent of the time. It's their claws I respect." Dave gestured, making ten of them with his fingers in the air over the steering wheel. "Just picture where we'd both be if they were our size."
"In their stomachs. I haven't forgotten that grocery store tigress snarling at me from on top of that walk in cooler five years ago." Johnny shivered, thinking about California cougars.
"Correct. At least with dogs, we have that Pavlov's bell gene working for us. All we need is a bone or a meat scrap to earn that Fido's best friend rank most of the time. Is it the aggression to strangers possibility that's bothering you today?" Gordon wondered, curious.
"Not actually." Gage sighed as they drew closer to their assigned staging spot. "I think it's more now, how I might fold like a stack of cards, if we a..ah.. are too late rescuing one. I was told... that ...Chet saw Boot running towards the engine seconds before .. " he choked up.
"Revisiting that death happened day is okay to do, Mr. Fireman. It's what we all do. I can't imagine what it must be like being too late for one of us, as a paramedic or a first responder. Losing an animal, doesn't hold a candle to that kind of loss, not even as a family pet, as strong as that grief can be."
Gage was quiet, reining in reburgeoning, sad emotions. "For me, it's about on a par."
"Hang onto that amazing empathy, Johnny Gage. It's a strength, not a weakness. Especially in our line of work." Gordon pulled up to their parking place and shut off the ignition. Across the river, they could see the swollen fire writhing even closer to the power plant's vicinity. Dave looked at his new fire fighting trained partner and winked encouragingly. "We can save this one. She's not over there, according to our R.P. She's somewhere on our side, last spotted near the campsite acreage, staying out of sight, hiding out, waiting to whelp her puppies, if she hasn't already. Her instincts as a soon to be mother will keep her well away from any fire." Dave promised. "She's ours, Johnny. We're not going to be too late. All we have to do is use my smarts about where pregnant mothers like to hole up, and find her."