MOMMA MIA
by ardavenport
- - - Part 8
"Hi Roy." Captain Stanley greeted him as he walked into the open kitchen area. "You took a long time at the hospital. Is the kid okay?"
"Oh, he's fine. But we had to stay and talk to the cops, since we saw the accident."
Stanley put his hand to his forehead. "That's right, you called it in. Well, how'd it happen?"
Roy pulled out a chair from the kitchen table. "We were stopped at a light and . . . . that girl with the music in the convertible was there next to us again."
All the others grinned. "Third time?" Lopez nodded appreciation to the other three.
Roy silently shook his head. The smiles around the table vanished.
"As soon the light went green, she pulled out into the intersection and that other car hit her. Guy didn't even slow down."
The others stared back. Chet's mouth opened slowly. "Wait a minute . . . that red car? That was HER? On that last run?"
Roy nodded. "Yeah."
Stanley sat back. "Holy smokes."
The others exchanged similar expressions of surprise, shock. Marco moved his lips, but seemed to think better of it and said nothing. Chet spoke first.
"Where's Johnny?"
Roy gestured toward the door. "He's in the dorm. Taking a little time."
Nobody said anything until finally Captain Stanley turned to Stoker. "Mike, how's that meatloaf doing?"
"Oh, ah, almost done, Cap. But I need to start the biscuits."
"Well, get to it. We're all getting pretty hungry. I'll be in my office." Stanley got up. Stoker got out the tube of biscuits from the fridge. Chet and Marco got the dishes from the cabinets and started to set the table.
Roy went out to the squad. They'd gotten supplies at the hospital and he took out the drug and trauma boxes, put them on the floor and began slowly putting the supply packets away. Then he counted everything in both boxes. By the time he was done, Roy could smell the biscuits from the kitchen. Chet came looking for him.
"Dinner's almost ready."
Roy nodded up at him, closing and latching both boxes.
"Hey, Roy, you want me to get Johnny?"
Roy shook his head, lifting the boxes into their compartments in the squad. "No, I'll get him." With the usual metal clangs, he closed the doors and turned the handles.
"Okay." Kelly went back to the kitchen.
Roy walked around the engine and looked in the window of the door to the dormitory, but he didn't see anyone. He walked to the locker room door. When he opened it, he saw Johnny, elbows on his knees, sitting on the end of the bench in front of his locker. As soon as Roy walked in, Johnny turned his back to the door.
"Uh, dinner's almost ready."
"Yeah. I - I'll be right there."
"Okay." Roy waited for something more but Johnny stayed silent.
"Y'know, you can't get personally involved in things like these. You'll drive yourself crazy in this job if you do."
"Yeah I know. I know." More silence.
Roy hated just standing there. But there wasn't anything more to say. "See ya in there."
"Yeah."
Roy opened the door again and took a step.
"Roy."
He stopped.
"We didn't even know her name."
"No." Roy looked at the back of his partner's head. "We didn't. I guess we could ask the cops."
Johnny shook his head, but he still did not turn around. "You can't get personally involved."
"Yeah. I guess so." Roy looked down and glanced to either side of him. There was no one else around. But he had run out of words. The others were in the kitchen. Getting dinner ready. Still on the edge of the bench, Johnny hadn't moved. Roy backed out, letting the door close behind him.
Roy's footsteps receded. The locker room was silent again.
John Gage knew that men cried. They just kept it to themselves. Held it back until the crisis was over. He rubbed his eyes, putting his elbows on his knees.
There just wasn't any point in wondering who she was or where she was going, or if she was single. She was gone. That was that. Thinking about how she might have avoided being hit at that intersection. Or if she would have survived if she was wearing a seatbelt. Or the broken body on the street, pink scarf and blond hair bloody. Or the wide open eyes staring up at the sky, as if she was completely surprised by being dead. No music. And if he could have saved her . . . . .
That would make him crazy. Johnny rubbed his eyes again.
Getting up, he went to the sink and turned on the tap. He squeezed his eyes shut, keeping out the cold water he splashed on his face. He shook his hands and groped for the hand towel hanging by the shower stall.
That was it. That was all the time he was allowed to regret what might have been. He finished with the towel and rehung it. She would remain a mysterious flirtation on a warm California afternoon. For all he knew, she had been perfect. He wasn't going to make any inquiries that would spoil that.
He left the locker room to go to dinner.
- - - END
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Mark VII Productions, Inc., Universal Studios and whoever else owns the 1970's TV show Emergency!; I am just playing in their sandbox.