The Jenkins Girl
By RosalindB April 2011
No copyright infringement is intended. Emergency! Is owned by Universal/Mark VII . I don't own these characters, just taking them out to play. No profit from this work, only personal enjoyment
Chapter 2
Last time: The memorial service had just begun.
Monsignor Marriot finished his homily. It was now Cynthia's moment.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we will now have a few remarks by Miss Cynthia Jenkins. Come right up here dear."
Chief McConnike escorted his "almost" daughter to the lectern.
"Do you want me to stand by?" he whispered in her ear.
Cynthia shook her head with a smile. "I think I've got this one. Thanks Uncle Mickey." He squeezed her hand and returned to his seat. Cynthia looked up at the audience and immediately wished she hadn't sent her Uncle Mickey away.
She faced a huge black hat with an oversized red flower. Underneath the hat was the face she hadn't seen in ten years. The face of the woman that threw her to the wolves.
Cynthia opened her mouth. Nothing came out.
She cleared her throat.
Mom and Dad are watching over you. Just look at the note card and read.She told herself.
"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your presence today. It does my heart and the hearts of the families gathered a world of good knowing that our loved ones are not forgotten..."
Please don't let us get toned out. Please let Cynthia make it through her speech. Man she looks scared. Voice is shaky. Poor kid can't even look up from her notes. That Elmira woman must be a royal bitch.
Chet stared at the screen, captivated, impressed, and sad for the young woman speaking. Unfortunately part of his wish was denied when the engine crew was called out to a dumpster fire.
Cynthia looked up from her notes. "While we are here to remember our loved ones, I noticed that the place they perished is now a place of health. When you leave, take a moment to look at the children in the playground, the people entering the clinic. We can take that vision to replace the one that brings us here. Thank you."
She stepped down from the lectern and returned to her seat. Mary McConnike put her arm around the shaking young woman. Monsignor Marriot returned to the lectern to give the benediction. Cynthia took a deep breath, but couldn't focus on the monsignor.
Why is she here? After all these years, she decides to show up? Her eyes are burning a hole in the back of my dress. And that damn hat. This isn't a horse race. What was she thinking? Was she thinking? Deep breaths, deep breaths, it's almost over..
Cynthia's hands began to shake. The Monsignor's benediction came just in time.
"How are you?" Mary whispered.
Cynthia shook her head, hands shaking. She laced her fingers together in an attempt to hold them still.
Mercifully, the recessional began, and the usher guided them out of the cathedral. She managed to hold her head up and maintain a calm demeanor as she walked toward the exit. Elmira followed behind another firefighter's widow and children, her eyes boring into Cynthia's back. After another hug from the Monsignor, Cynthia and Mary McConnike stepped into their car. The chief stepped over to give the driver directions to the restaurant.
Come on Uncle Mickey, get in the car. Don't give her a chance to walk up to us. Oh fudge, she's approaching the car...
"Chief McConnike, may I inquire as to where this reception is?" Elmira gave him the once over ignoring his wife's annoyed look.
The chief hesitated, glanced at Cynthia as if to say, "Sorry kid," then answered.
"It's at Delancey's. Nothing fancy, just snacks, cold drinks, coffee, that sort of thing."
"I'll certainly see you there—of course I meant all of you," Elmira looked into the back of the car.
Cynthia slid a little further down into the seat.
"Big girl pill." she said
"What was that?" Mary asked.
"Gotta take a big girl pill and face the music. Miz Elmira is going to the luncheon," came the reply.
Mary squared her shoulders. "Well she better not look at Paul like that again, or she will eat that obnoxious hat."
The chief finally got into the car next to his wife. He looked at the two perturbed women, began to speak, then reconsidered. He patted his wife's hand instead.
Delancey's was packed with firemen, firemen's wives, reporters, and a few regulars who wanted to pay their respects and not give up their seat at the bar. Cynthia made her way toward one of them. He had salt-and-pepper hair, a 3 day shadow, and a two-pack-a-day voice.
"Chief Waldorf?"
"CJ!, C'mere darlin'. Plant it right here!" He pointed a slender paint-stained finger to his cheek. CJ obliged with a hug in addition.
"Ahem? What about mine?" Another man with a worn face and twinkle in his blue eyes pointed to his cheek.
"How could I miss you Chief Statler?" CJ planted a kiss and included a hug to Statler. "What's going on with you two?"
"Junior here still thinks the Yankees will take the World Series," Statler pointed to his companion.
"And my pally insists the Red Sox are gonna surprise everyone." Waldorf laughed.
"Well I'm not a sports expert, so I'm staying away from that one," CJ chuckled. Waldorf nudged their young friend, and motioned to the door.
"Who's the Wicked Witch at the door?" Elmira's hat stretched across the doorway
CJ cringed. "It's Elmira Jenkins-Renault. My father's sister." She looked down at the bar.
Statler set down his pint.
"The one that dumped you into foster care? Maryjoesphbabyjesus. Why is she here?"
"Lemme guess," Waldorf said. "Tenth anniversary, wants publicity, feels guilty never bothered to show up before."
CJ nodded her head. "I'm not sure about the guilty part, but the rest is pretty obvious."
"Maybe you should do a rain dance Junior?" Statler winked at CJ. "Get some water on her and watch her melt."
"I would, but Mr. Arthritis is paying my leg a visit."
CJ laughed at the two regulars.
"I'd better finish my rounds. See if I can get some distance from her." She quickly hugged the two men, then moved on to a widow she recognized.
Elmira looked around the room, trying to spot her estranged niece. She couldn't find CJ, but did see the McConnike's. Elmira approached them, her eyes on the chief.
"Interesting location Chief. Is this where the reception is held every year?"
"Er-yes. It's a favorite of several firefighters, some of the ones we lost were regulars here."
Mary McConnike stared at Elmira, but Elmira ignored her.
"Perhaps," Elmira fingered the Chief's lapel, "One evening you can join me for dinner."
Paul McConnike took his wife's hand.
"We have no interest in dinner with you madame. Excuse us, there are some guests we need to speak with."
Mary McConnike leaned in and kissed her husband's cheek.
"Thank you sweetheart. For a moment I thought I'd have to snatch her hat and make her eat it."
Statler and Waldorf watched the exchange. Waldorf sipped his pint and shook his head.
"I was hoping for the hat snatch," Statler signaled for a refill.
"McConnike's too classy for that," came the reply. "Woulda been fun though."
The squad was out on a run when Engine 51 returned from the dumpster fire. After cleaning up, Ed, Mike's replacement, and Marco began lunch. Chet turned on the television, but the service coverage was over. He turned the set off again, and sat down on the couch.
"What was on?" Marco asked.
"Just a game show—Let's Make a Deal I think."
"My mom loves that show," Ed said. "Thinks everyone should take door number 2 for some reason."
Chet chuckled, "Sounds like something my mom would say too." He got up from the couch and pulled Henry along. "Come on Henry, outside. You need to move around."
Marco watched his friend walk out.
"He's got something on his mind," he said to Ed. "He's never this quiet unless something's bothering him."
"Oh. I was going to ask about that. Heard Kelly's a real spitfire, especially around Gage." Ed stirred the chopped vegetables into the salad.
Marco nodded his head. "Gage is the junior on this shift. But Chet's never malicious. He really admires Gage and Desoto. But don't tell him I said that."
Chet tossed the worn ball across the parking lot. Henry ran-barely- after it.
Man, we have to put Henry on a diet. No scraps for you for a while buddy. Chet thought. Hank Stanley walked out of his office to see Chet exercising the "laziest dog in the department". He decided it would be a good moment to discuss his outburst and clear the air. Of course the best laid plans...
"Engine 51, Squad 36, Engine 127, structure fire. 1313 Mockingbird Road..cross street Walker Blvd. Time out 14:30."
Marco, Ed and Chet were seated in the engine as Stanley responded.
"Engine 51 KMG365."
CJ made the rounds at Delancey's, greeting the other families. Two of the boys attended the same high school. One, Jonah Smith was about to attend UCLA also after taking a year to work and save up tuition money.
"Hey Cynthia. What's the art department like? I'm thinking about painting, or maybe sculpture."
Cynthia grinned at the young man.
"Well my concentration was photography. But Professor Sanford is the dean. He can guide you through the requirements. Tell him I recommended that you meet him. He's very cool."
"Thanks Cynthia. Um, I think that lady is looking for you." Jonah gestured toward Elmira. She moved quickly toward the two young people. Before CJ could move away Elmira called out.
"Cynthia. Who is this nice young man?"
"This is Jonah Smith. Jonah, Mrs. Renault."
Jonah hesitantly shook Elmira's hand.
"How do you do ma'am?"
"Pleased to meet you young man. And how do you know my niece?" CJ winced at the term.
"We both lost our fathers at the Patterson Factory fire."
Elmira stepped back. "I'm so sorry."
Jonah nodded. "Thank you. My family managed. Cynthia here had the hardest time."
Elmira's face paled at the innocent remark.
"Well, I'm here now, so-"
"I beg your pardon?" CJ faced Elmira. "Excuse me, but you're being here now does nothing and means nothing."
Elmira squinted at the young woman. "You are my niece, and we both had a devastating loss. We should be supporting each other -"
"Are you kidding me?" CJ's voice rose. "Support? Since when?" Reporters began scribbling in their notebooks. The other families watched partly in horror, in part silently rooting for the young woman. Mary McConnike began to step in and separate the two. Her husband held her back.
"No honey, let them go."
"I know things weren't perfect," Elmira said. "But we're still family and we should at least try to communicate more often."
CJ's hands began to shake. Jonah stepped back from the line of fire. CJ stepped to Elmira, until the two were nose to nose.
"Let m-me tell you something Mrs. Renault. I have no idea when the w-word support appeared in your voc-cabulary. Ten years—c-count 'em—ten! Since I last saw you. The last thing you said to m-me was that you c-couldn't accept me because my father m-married beneath him." Cynthia's stutter, which she fought with since childhood came back full force.
"That was a long time ago-" Elmira interjected.
"I was fifteen, with no where else to go! M-momma's family rejected me too. You were my only hope, and you walked away.."
"You don't understand-"
"What is there to understand?" CJ's hands shook uncontrollably now. "I'd lost my last parent. He counted on you! There were people willing to ad-dopt me, and you refused to sign the papers-"
"I do have a side to this story young lady!" Elmira's hat bobbled with her shaking.
"YOU THREW ME AWAY! YOU HAVE NO SIDE TO TELL! AND DON'T EVEN THINK OF SAYING YOU DID THE BEST YOU COULD! I HAVE 16 SCARS ON MY BACK THAT SAY OTHERWISE! I STILL SEE THE RAPE IN MY DREAMS!"
At her last statement, CJ remembered where she was. She realized what she said. She sobbed, turned, and ran out of Delancey's.
Mary McConnike, Statler, and Waldorf followed her outside, but by the time they reached the parking lot, CJ was gone. Mary walked back into the restaurant, straight to Elmira. She snatched the huge hat with the oversized rose and threw it into the restaurant's fireplace.
Fortunately there were no major injuries at the structure fire. The occupants weren't home and while there was heavy water damage, the structure itself ended up salvageable. Squad 36 dealt with the few minor cuts and burns on their fellow firefighters.
"Wow Cap, they got lucky," Ed shook his head at the now soot covered window frames.
"They sure did," Stanley sighed. "Well nothing left for us to do here. Let's wrap it up and head back to the barn."
Ten minutes later, the boys hopped back into Big Red.
"Engine 51 available," Stanley reported.
"10-4 51," came the reply.
Two minutes later-
"Engine 51, unknown rescue. 37thStreet Bridge. Hyatt Avenue side. Time out 15:45."
"10-4, Engine 51 responding."
Stanley hated the unknown rescue. It could be something as simple as a cat in a tree, or a suicide attempt. When they arrived at the bridge, Captain Stanley's heart dropped. It wasn't a cat.
"Hey fellas," the security guard greeted them. "Thanks for coming so quick. I'm worried about CJ."
"CJ?" asked Stanley. "You know this person?"
"Oh yeah, she's been here a few times. Taking photos for the local paper. Today though—she didn't look too good. Crying her eyes out."
As the guard escorted the crew to the walkway he continued.
"I tried to get her to just sit with me, but she didn't want to be around anyone. She went up a bit and hooked herself in."
Marco spoke up. "Hooked herself in?"
"Yep, she has an old life belt. She used it when she was here to take the pictures. But it's old. I'm scared it may not hold."
"So as far as you know, she's not planning to jump?" Stanley had to make certain before sending anyone up.
"Nope, she said she wasn't jumpin'," the guard replied. "Her daddy was a fireman. Figured maybe you guys could calm her down." He shrugged his shoulders.
"You said her name was CJ?" Stanley had to know if it was who he thought it was.
"Yep, Cynthia's her real name. Cynthia Jenkins."
The crew fell silent. The young woman they read about that morning was now a potential victim. Hank wished the paramedics were with them. Until he could check in and get an ETA, someone had to go up there. Someone who could get her to calm down enough to work with. Someone who could tell a joke.
"Kelly, you and Lopez set up a rope. Take an extra belt with you. See if you can talk to her. Lopez, anchor the line. I'm going to see if the squad's available."
Chet set up the extra belt, and Marco connected the rope to him.
Guess the day didn't go so well after all, he thought.
CJ stared at the city view. The tears had stopped, but the trembling hands hadn't. She took a deep breath, hoping the stillness would settle her nerves. She tried not to think about facing the Chief and her Aunt Mary. She heard footsteps. Thinking it was the security guard, CJ didn't bother to turn her head.
"I said I'm okay Pete. I-I just need a little space. I'm not jumping."
"If you say so Miss, but that belt is out of date."
CJ turned to see a pair of intense blue eyes staring back at her. Then she took in the very bushy hair sticking out from underneath the helmet. Chet slowly made his way closer until he was right beside her.
"Well, since you're here, have a seat." CJ patted the space next to her.
"Okay." Chet eased himself down, checking the slack on his line. CJ turned a little more, noticing Marco holding the rope.
"I won't keep you," she said to Chet. "You guys have better things to do." She tried to smile.
"Miss, for now the only thing we're concerned about is you." Chet tipped his helmet. "Chester B. Kelly at your service." His mustache twitched with his smile.
"I like the lip fur," she said. He blushed. "So what's this about my belt being out of date?"
Chet pointed to the spot near the buckle.
"It's wearing a little thin right there. And that belt isn't even manufactured any more. Where did you-" he started to ask, then suddenly realized where it came from.
"I'm sorry. It was your dad's right?"
CJ looked down at her feet.
"Yes. I used it a few times when I had a photo assignment here. It felt like he was with me." She took another deep breath. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out.
"Um, we read about you in the newspaper," Chet admitted. "Today wasn't a good day for you I suppose." CJ shook her head, still unable to talk. Chet kept quiet for a few moments. He wanted to allow CJ a chance to gather her thoughts.
"It was worse at the luncheon," she began. "My father's sister showed up. Decided we should reconcile and pretend nothing happened. I don't know what her agenda is, but she drove me over the edge." She wiped her face with her hoodie sleeve.
"Sorry I don't have a handkerchief on me," Chet said. CJ smiled through the tears.
"Wow, you are a gentleman. Anyway, I screamed at her for throwing me away. Also made the mistake of mentioning the abuse that I kept secret for ten years in front of a room full of people." She looked down again. "I needed air. Picked a heck of a place to get some, eh?"
"Yep." Chet kept his gaze focused on her eyes. He almost lost himself in them.
"And Pete called you guys 'cause he's afraid I'll jump?"
"Nope. He called 'cause he's afraid you'll slip." Chet inched a little closer. "I don't want you to slip either. Let me put a newer belt on you and we'll head back."
CJ leaned in slightly and sniffed.
"Hmm..smoke and after shave. You're a lineman all right." Chet laughed and his cheeks turned pink. She laughed with him."Okay, you convinced me. Where's that fancy belt?"
Chet lifted the handi-talkie. "Cap, she's agreed to come down. I'm going to belt her up now."
"10-4 pal, good job. Any injuries?"
Chet looked at CJ. "Hurt anywh-" he noticed the cut on her palm and the bloodstain on her dress she had been hiding. "When did that happen?" he demanded.
"Oh, I guess I scratched it when grabbing the rail. There's a rusty spot over there. Forgot how sharp it was." CJ noticed Chet's eyes get wide. "It's just a -"
"That's not a scratch, miss, that's a cut." He called to Stanley.
"Cap she's got a cut on her hand from a rusted spot on the railing."
"Got it pal, I'm checking on the squad."
Chet slid the new belt around CJ, hooked it to his line, then unhooked her father's belt. After hooking the old belt to his own, Chet helped CJ up. Then he and Marco guided her back to solid ground. Roy and Johnny pulled up just as the three settled down near Big Red.
"Don't worry Miss. The paramedics will take a look at that for you," Stanley soothed. He noticed Chet kept his arm around the young woman, but said nothing. CJ stared at him for a moment, then her mouth dropped open.
"First, I'm CJ, or Cynthia, not 'Miss'. Second, are you Captain Hank Stanley?"
It was Cap's turn to blush.
"Yes, yes I am."
"Oh my gosh! I finally put a face to the legend!"
Stanley's face betrayed his confusion.
"Legend?"
"Yes! My Uncle Mickey talks about you all the time. He said you're one of the best captains in the service. He also said you have impeccable fashion sense. When something doesn't work on an outfit, you just get rid of it—especially hats." The crew began to laugh. Stanley went from pink to red.
"John, Roy, wrap her up and get her outta here. The railing was rusted so you better get her to Rampart." The embarrassed captain turned and walked back to the cab.
John made quick work of the bandage, and he and Roy put her in the squad for the ride to the hospital. Just before getting in, CJ turned to Chet and gave him a peck on the cheek.
"I will find a way to thank you."
"Just doing my job. Gage here is the charmer." Chet suddenly turned shy.
She smiled and leaned in so only Chet could hear her reply.
"But he doesn't have smoke with his aftershave. Not as sexy."
With that, CJ hopped into the squad. Chet joined his crewmates, and had a very happy ride back to the station.