A/N: Since it's never stated canonically where Johnny grew up or what Native American tribe he belongs to, I have supplied Oklahoma as his state of origin and the Seminole Nation as his tribe (since Randolph Mantooth is half-Seminole it made sense to me). I see other authors have supplied Montana. I didn't want to copy anyone ;)
CHAPTER SEVEN!
Redondo Beach, CA
AFTER his shift had ended that afternoon, Johnny immediately made his way to his brother's house in Redondo Beach. He hoped to ask his niece about the babysitting before Friday since he'd have no other time once his forty-eight hour shift began tomorrow. Besides, it had been a few months since he'd visited his brother's family, and he thought seeing them would do him good.
Other than his eccentric aunt who lived over in Riverside, Johnny's brother was really the only family member he had stayed in touch with. The rest of them lived half-the-continent away on Seminole lands in Oklahoma, and Johnny tried his best to not remember growing up there. The minute he had turned fifteen, he'd decided to leave Oklahoma to live with his older brother, Billy, in California. It disappointed his parents that he wanted to leave, but they allowed it because they knew it would make him happier. All Johnny wanted was to attend a nice high school and start a career. His parents knew just as well as he did that living on the poverty-stricken reservation wasn't going to give him the life he wanted.
Moving in with Billy and his family was the best decision Johnny'd made in his life besides enlisting in the paramedic programme. Johnny knew he had a lot to thank his elder brother for. Taking time out of his busy life to visit Billy was certainly necessary.
Billy's house was right on the beach, and though it was quaint as beach houses are apt to be, Johnny shuddered to see it because he constantly imagined how ridiculously over-priced its mortgage rate was. Johnny parallel parked his four-by-four along the narrow street, sandwiching it between the neighbour's Camaro and his sister-in-law's Volkswagen bus. Then he got out and stepped onto the sidewalk. Here the air was fresh and filled with the crisp smell of the Pacific. It reminded Johnny of how much he hated to get used to the air in Carson, saturated with the stench of oil refineries. He took a long, deep breath before he strode up the gravel walkway that was lined on both sides with bright purple sea figs.
When he knocked at the door, his sister-in-law promptly answered. Cecelia Gage was half Lakota Sioux, half Italian, and one hundred percent hippie. Graduate of Berkeley, professor of anthropology at USC, and always smelling of patchouli incense. When she saw Johnny, the stout woman smiled radiantly and pulled him down into a tight hug.
"Johnny, it's so great to see you!"
Johnny hugged her back. "I thought I'd stop by for a bit and say hello to everyone."
"Come in, come in!" Cecelia ushered him inside the house, closing the door behind him. Over in the living room, Billy sat hunched over a type-writer, pecking away rapidly at the keys. Ever since quitting his job at the LA Times, Billy had worked from home as a pretty successful free-lance journalist.
"Billy," Cecelia called. "Johnny is here."
Billy stopped his typing and looked up over his reading glasses. He smirked, the same crooked grin his little brother had, and got up from his seat. "Johnny," he said, taking off his glasses and setting them on the desk. "How are you?"
The two brothers met in a hug at the centre of the living room.
"I'm great," Johnny replied. Although "great" was an overstatement. He had felt off the entire day, ever since the rescue of Dana Caldwell. Not to mention the whole issue with the possible serial arsonist running loose.
"How're things going at the fire station?" Billy took a seat at the couch and Johnny joined him.
"Never a dull moment, that's for sure," Johnny said. "It's been really busy lately."
"Would the two of you like a cup of tea?" Cecelia asked, lingering by the entrance to the kitchen.
Johnny nodded. "Sure, that'd be great." He looked back to his brother. "What about you? How's your writing been goin'?"
"Well..."
Billy then went into a lengthy narrative about how he was getting into investigative journalism and how he was thinking about writing an exposé on local oil companies and their effects on the ecology. Half-way through Billy's oration, Cecelia returned with a hot cup of green tea for Johnny. It was the kind of whole-leaf stuff they had at Chinese restaurants. Just one sip of it made you feel better, like it had magical healing powers. Johnny wanted to ask Cecelia where she bought it because it was really helping reverse his negative feelings about the day, but didn't want to interrupt Billy's interesting story.
After Billy had finished talking, they somehow brought the subject back to Johnny and he began talking about some of the recent things going on at the station. He specifically tip-toed around mentioning the possible arsonist, however. They talked for about thirty minutes straight, until Johnny remembered the primary reason he had stopped by.
"I forgot to ask if CeCe is home," he mentioned. "I needed to ask her something."
"Oh, yeah." Billy gestured to the staircase. "She's up in her room finishing her homework. What did you need to ask her about?"
"I might have a babysitting job for her. I remember last time I saw her, she said she was looking around for work to do."
Cecelia smiled. "She'll be glad to know you might've found something for her."
Johnny got up from the couch, setting his empty tea cup on the coffee table. "I'll go talk to her about it, then. And thanks for the tea."
CeCe's room was upstairs, and before Johnny reached it, he could already hear the astral sounds of Pink Floyd's "Have a Cigar" emanating from the closed door. The door, incidentally, was decorated with a fall-out shelter sign and a DO NOT ENTER sign. Johnny knocked loudly, hoping she'd be able to hear over her music.
"Who is it?" she demanded in a shrill voice.
"CeCe, It's your Uncle Johnny."
"Oh! Come on in!"
Johnny opened the door, fought his way through a curtain of wooden beads, and found himself in his niece's dimly lit pad. The walls were covered with posters of every great rockstar and band from the current and past decade. Over in the corner, the Jefferson Airplane hung out next to Led Zeppelin. The Beatles in their Let It Be era occupied a space by the window. Above the bed was the Who, a large red heart painted around Pete Townshend's face. And those were only the bands that Johnny could recognise in the dull light given off by CeCe's three lava lamps spread throughout the room. The only amount of substantial illumination came from the reading lamp positioned on the night-stand, and even that was negligible.
His niece jumped up from her bed upon his entry to give him a tight hug. Glancing over her shoulder as he hugged her he could see that her "homework" was a copy of the latest Rolling Stone magazine. Her neglected math book rested at the foot of the bed with a half written on paper shoved between its pages.
After hugging him, CeCe quickly leaned over to her nightstand to turn down the volume on her turntable, and then turned back to him. "Whatcha doin' here, Uncle Johnny?" she asked. "It's been a while since you stopped by. Everything okay at the station?" She sat back down on her bed, cross-legged, waiting for him to respond.
"Oh, everything's fine," Johnny replied as he sank back down into the giant bean-bag chair in the corner. "I just wanted to tell ya that I might've found a babysitting job for ya."
CeCe smiled, and it was that crooked Gage-smile too. "Sweet! When and where?"
"Friday from six-ish to midnight-ish, in Torrance. See, my partner and his wife are probably gonna go out dancin' with me and my girlfriend, and they need somebody to watch their two kids."
CeCe narrowed her eyes. "How old?"
"Chris is eight and Jenny is five."
She considered this for a moment. "That works, I guess. Just let your friend know I charge by the hour. Two-fifty."
Johnny blinked. "Two-fifty? That's more than minimum wage. Ceece, it's babysitting...and I told Roy your services were reasonably priced."
"Uncle Johnny." She rolled her eyes and then continued. "It's more than reasonable. C'mon—it really takes more talent to look after someone's children than it does to flip burgers at McDonald's. I should get paid more than minimum wage in my opinion. Besides, unless your friend is as cheap as you are, he'll totally agree to it."
Johnny frowned. "You think I'm cheap?"
"Did I say that?"
"I think you did. You think you old Uncle Johnny is cheap."
CeCe threw herself back on her bed and chuckled. "Okay! I'll make you a deal then. Two dollars even if you do me a favour."
"A favour?"
She leaned back up. "Yeah. I kinda see this as a favour, so if you pay me back in kind, I'll give your friend a discount."
Johnny rubbed his chin, regarding his niece in suspicion. "I'm listening."
"Okay, so basically I've been distraught this whole year over one major thing. Do you know how many amazing bands have been at the Forum this past summer? Zeppelin. The Stones. And I didn't get to go to a single concert because Mom says I'm 'too young.'" CeCe rolled her eyes again. "But we all know in February I'll be turning fifteen, so I asked her if things will change then. And she said to me that I could go to a concert as long as someone she knew went with me and they were over twenty-one.
"I got to thinking," she went on, "that Uncle Johnny is pretty cool and he's over twenty-one. Then I heard that the Who are going to be playing Angel Stadium this coming March, and I just have to go! So the way you're going to repay me is by taking me to see them."
Johnny shrugged. "The Who are pretty cool. And I wouldn't mind seein' them, so I guess you have a deal."
"Really?" CeCe squeaked. "Oh, thank you, Uncle Johnny! You totally rock—you don't even know! I mean, I'll pay for my own ticket and all that, but to have someone to go with me?—Yay!" She turned and considered her Who poster for a long, adoring moment. "Now I finally get to see Pete in person. He's so lovely..."
And most girls her age are crushing on David Cassidy, Johnny thought in amusement as he pulled himself out of the bean-bag chair.
"Your friend will not be disappointed." CeCe turned back to Johnny. "His kids are gonna love me." She got up from the bed and gave her uncle another big hug. "Thanks again."
"You're welcome." Johnny eyed her book at the foot of her bed. "And finish your math homework."
She looked at him like her was being ridiculous. "Okay. See ya later, Uncle Johnny."
"See ya later." And he left the room.
Downstairs, Cecelia met him as he walked into the living room. "Hey, Johnny," she said. "Would you like to stay for tacos?"
The mention of food reminded him that he had a dinner date with Barbara tonight and that he should look at the time. "Sorry, I wish I could. But I gotta get out of here. I have a date that..." he glanced at his watch. 5:30. Shoot. "...I'm actually late for."
"Leaving already, Johnny?" Billy asked as he turned away from his typewriter.
"Yeah." Johnny hugged Cecelia and then went over to give his brother a hug. "Sorry guys. I'll see ya soon, though, okay?"
"Bye, Johnny," Cecelia said. "Drive safe."