"No, Roy, I don't want to," Johnny whined. "I'm not interested. What's the point? I won't be able to do anything, anyway."
Dale, the physical therapist, Dr. Brackett and Dixie had all stood by while Roy tried to convince Johnny to give the Rehab Center a chance. "Johnny, you need to do this," Roy said patiently.
"I said NO!" yelled Johnny.
"John, the people at Santa Clara Valley Medical Center are ready to handle this. They are good at what they do. I know you're angry, but it's the next step," stated Dale.
Roy sighed. Johnny's behavior had continued to sour as the weeks went by. All hopes for a complete recovery were quickly fading away, and the reality of what Johnny's life was looking like was hitting all of them hard.
Roy looked over at Brackett, who simply shook his head. Dixie walked determinedly over to Johnny's bed. "Come on, Johnny. I want you to go. Santa Clara Valley is nice. I know you're scared, but we're all here for you. You're not going to be doing this alone."
Johnny kept staring at the ceiling. Roy watched as Johnny struggled to no avail to hold back the tears that had become a daily occurrence. Sighing in frustration as the tears rolled down his cheeks, Johnny closed his eyes to try to hide them. "I can't, Dix," he muttered. "Just leave me alone."
"You know we're not going to do that, Johnny," replied Dixie. "Why don't we come back later, okay? Dale, Kel, let's go."
Dr. Brackett moved to Roy's side. He patted Roy on the back and looked at Johnny. "No one said this was going to be easy," he said to both Johnny and Roy.
Once they were alone, Roy wiped away the tears staining Johnny's face. He knew how much Johnny hated showing this weakness, and he had to help somehow. Johnny kept his eyes closed and didn't say a word. Roy knew that he wouldn't hear from his partner again today. He glanced across the room and stared at the lone wheelchair in the corner. Based on what the doctors said, it could be another four months before Johnny would be able to actually sit for any period of time.
He turned back to his friend, finding some more strength for his words. "Johnny, don't give up," he begged. "You're strong, you're going to get through this."
Johnny said nothing. Roy remembered a saying his grandmother had favored when he was a child: "Empty words from an empty mind." That's all his words were. Roy sighed and walked out of the room dejectedly.
*******
"Roy, do you want to go in?" Bellingham repeated as they helped load Helen into the ambulance. "Roy?"
"Uh, yeah, okay, let's roll," Roy said, focusing his attention on Helen as he climbed into the ambulance. She was breathing more easily now, the medicine Roy has put in the oxygen mask having counteracted the effects of her asthma attack.
Paula followed them out of the house, pushing the wheelchair with her good arm. "She'll need this. Can it go with us?" she asked.
"Sure," Roy told her. Paula tried to lift the wheelchair into the ambulance, but Roy stopped her. "Why don't you give that to the other paramedic and he'll carry it in our squad? That way it won't get in the way here."
Paula nodded and handed the wheelchair off to Bob as Roy watched. "It makes you uncomfortable, doesn't it?" Helen asked.
"Excuse me?"
"The wheelchair," Helen clarified. "I saw how uncomfortable you looked when you saw it."
"I'm sorry," Roy apologized. "It reminded me of a friend who was hurt recently."
Paula leaned into the back. "Mom, they won't let me sit back here with you, but I'll be right up front, okay?"
"Okay, honey. Don't worry, I'm feeling much better," she reassured Paula.
"Ready?" Bellingham asked Roy, who nodded. Bellingham slammed shut the doors of the ambulance, thumping loudly on the back of it.
Helen studied Roy closely. "Aren't you Johnny's partner?"
Roy was startled by the question. "Yes, ma'am."
Helen noticed his confused look. "You and Johnny helped my daughter and I a few weeks ago, when we were in a car accident," she explained. "Where is he today? Taking a day off?"
I wish. "He's hurt," Roy said somberly.
"Another broken collarbone?" Helen asked with a smile. "When Paula broke hers he told us about how he'd broken a few bones of his own."
"No, he was shot," Roy murmured.
Helen gasped in horror. The sharp intake of air started her choking and coughing. Roy rubbed her back as she tried desperately to get her breath back. "Helen, you need to calm down. Getting upset is going to trigger another asthma attack."
Helen breathed in and out deeply until the breaths finally started coming more easily. "How badly is he hurt?"
"It's pretty bad," Roy told her, emotion thick in his voice.
Helen remembered Roy's comment about the wheelchair. "He's paralyzed?" Roy nodded. "Is it permanent?"
"It's looking more and more like it might be," Roy admitted miserably.
"He can't handle something like that," Helen said worriedly. "He told me so himself."
"He trying not to deal with it, as if that will make it go away," Roy sighed. "We tried to get him to consider a rehab center, but he wanted nothing to do with it. He only wants to lay there."
"He has every reason to feel sorry for himself right now," Helen reminded him gently. "He feels like his whole life has been taken away."
"I know. And there's nothing I can do about it," Roy lamented.
"You can give him time to deal with this," Helen advised. "That's what he needs most right now."
"I remember you now," Roy told Helen. "Johnny was talking about you, about how he admired the way you handled your paralysis. Do you think you could talk to him? We've tried everything we can to get through to him, but nothing's worked. If he had someone to talk to who's been through this, though….Can you please help us? Can you please try to get through to him?