Chapter 6: Good Morning Gone
"Good morning, good morning, good morning!" John Gage bounced his way into the locker room and greeted his fellow shift mates, Roy and Chet, with enough cheer to annoy a circus clown.
Chet glanced over at the dark haired paramedic. As he buttoned up his uniform shirt he asked, "What are you so happy about? I thought you had a date with what's-her-name?"
"I did," Gage replied, "and her name is Doris." He finished unbuttoning his brown shirt, took it off without bothering to unroll the sleeves and hung it up on one of the empty hangers in his locker. Turning around to pontificate on the subject, he continued, "For your information, the date went great. She's really an amazing girl. I took her out to D'Alessio's in Long Beach. Man, she loved it! I could tell she was really diggin' me." As he talked, he toed off his desert boots and peeled off his jeans.
Roy finally chimed in, figuring it was safe. "So, when you taking her out again?"
"Oh," Johnny stated cheerily, "I'm not." Dark blue work slacks on and zipped. Johnny turned back to his locker and pulled a light blue work shirt from its hanger.
"Whaddaya mean you're not? You just said she dug ya?" Chet was confused.
Pausing for a moment with the shirt half on, John smiled. "She does. And I dig her, too." He glanced at Roy with a twinkle in his eye and finished putting on his shirt. With silent communication, Roy realized that all was not as it seemed and Johnny was going to drag this out for as long as it took to drive Chet crazy.
A lightbulb went on over Chet's head. "Ah. You asked her for a second date and she turned you down because she came to her senses."
"No," Johnny smiled.
Roy decided to get in on the fun. "No, you didn't ask her out? Or, no, she didn't come to her senses?"
Johnny squinted up at the ceiling for a moment, tilting his head and screwing up his lips in mock contemplation of the question. Turning to Roy, he pointed and drew in a breath to say, "Both."
The lightbulb went dark. Chet put his hands on his hips and leaned forward to peer at the confusing paramedic. "Wait. So, you dug her, but you didn't ask her out again. What's wrong with her?"
"Nothing," Johnny smiled. He sat down in his locker and pushed Chet back a step so he could put his feet on the bench to don his work boots. Roy took his time buttoning up his own shirt. He really wanted to watch this play out.
"So if there's nothing wrong with her," Chet poked Johnny in the shoulder, "why didn't you ask her for a second date?"
"I couldn't."
Now Chet was really confused. "Whaddaya mean, you couldn't?" To be perfectly honest, Roy was a bit confused by that himself.
"I mean there wasn't any point to it. I already knew she wouldn't be able to go out with me again." Johnny was really enjoying this. He was almost tempted to drag it out all shift, but knowing Chet, he'd come up with some lame brained reason why Doris wouldn't go out with him and never believe the truth when Johnny finally told him. He had to end this before roll call. Before they left the locker room, really.
Chet just stared at him. Johnny and Roy both could actually see the wheels turning inside Chet's head as he tried to puzzle this out. He shook that head when he stated, "I think you're bullshitting."
Johnny smiled enigmatically in Chet's face, which was conveniently at eye level, with Johnny in his locker the way he was. Captain Stanley chose that moment to pop his head into the locker room and announce roll call in five minutes. It was time to let Chet off the hook. "Nope. She told me when I picked her up that she just got a job offer in Houston. She's moving out there next weekend." He smiled again at Chet, then at Roy, waggling his eyebrows at his best friend. Back to Chet, Johnny got out of his locker and closed the door. Then he closed Chet's mouth for him and headed out to line up in the apparatus bay.
"Marco, man, I really wanna thank you for being the last man in today. I thought for sure Cap was gonna stick me with latrines again." Chet headed over to the stove to pour his buddy and himself a cup of coffee.
The 'last man in' pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and sat. "No hey de qué, amigo," Marco said wryly. "What are friends for?"
Chet plonked the hot cup of caffeine in front of Marco and patted him on the shoulder. "Exactly, man. Exactly!" he exclaimed, completely missing Marco's sarcasm. He snatched a section the day's newspaper off the table and took it and his own coffee to sit on the couch with Henry. Looking back at his friend as he opened the paper he noticed Marco was just sitting there watching him, eyebrows raised. "Hey, pal, you better drink up before Cap finds something else for you to do."
"Who do I need to find something else for, Kelly? You?" Cap's timing seemed to be on point today as he strode over to get his own cup of morning joe.
Marco chuckled under his mustache, downed his coffee in two gulps and fast walked out the door. "Oh, no, no, Cap," Chet sputtered. "I was just telling Marco here…" and that's when he noticed said Marco was no longer in the room. Chet's sentence hung unfinished.
Captain Stanley turned around and leaned, cup in hand, against the kitchen counter. He looked over at his linesman expectantly. "You were saying, Kelly?"
"Uh…Cap…I'm just waiting for Gage and DeSoto to finish their morning checks so I can get them to move the squad out to the apron. Really."
"Uh huh." Cap took his long strides out towards the apparatus bay. "Maybe you would know when they were done if you could see them better," he said as he left the kitchen. In other words, Cap implied, get your ass off that couch and get to work.
Chet rounded the back corner of the squad just in time to hear Johnny telling Roy about plans to see some guy after shift. "Who ya going to see, Gage? Your shrink"
"Ha, ha. Very funny, Kelly. No. I'm going to see a travel agent to book my flights." Johnny didn't need to see the gleam in Chet's eyes. He saw Roy's eye roll as Roy stood up to put the drug box back in its place in the squad's compartments. That told him all he needed to know.
Chet slipped his hands into his pockets and leaned back against the engine. "Ya know, Johnny, I've got a cousin…"
"I don't care about your cousin," Johnny stopped Chet mid-sentence as he closed the compartment doors after stowing the biophone.
Being interrupted didn't deter Chet any, never did. He just plowed ahead, "No, really. He's one of the best travel agents…"
"And so was your real estate agent. Look where that got us," Roy reminded Chet. But his eyes were on Johnny when he said it. Johnny smiled sheepishly, avoiding eye contact, and stepped around his partner to open the passenger side door of the squad and climb into his seat.
Chet kept trying. "You really ought to meet him."
"No," came the reply from the squad cab.
"He'll getcha a great deal."
"No."
"Just give him a…"
"No."
"I'll have him stop…"
"No."
"He really is…"
By this time Roy had let Cap know to put them 10-8 to Rampart on a supply run and was sliding in to his seat behind the wheel of the squad. "Good bye, Chet!" he called out before Johnny could get another 'no' out, and started the Dodge's engine. The smaller apparatus hung a right to head to Rampart as Mike swung up into the cab of the bigger apparatus in order to pull it out onto the station's apron. Chet wondered what just happened.
"Kelly!" Cap called out from inside the office.
That activated the stunned linesman. How did he know Chet was just standing there without seeing him? "Right, Cap! Mop!" Chet called back and headed to the supply closet for the mop and bucket to start his chore.
The seven minute trip to Rampart was filled with Johnny ranting about Chet and his "one of the best" whatever's. Roy kept his thoughts on the subject to himself, keeping his eyes on the road. He neither wanted, nor needed, to egg his partner on. By the time they got to the hospital Johnny had flowed into being defensive about his choice of travel agent.
As they dodged the busy traffic walking through the Emergency Department's main corridor, Johnny continued his tirade. "I mean, I can find my own travel agent," he stated emphatically, one hand splayed on his chest and the other outstretched broadly and nearly knocking a tray out of nurse's hand. "Ooh, sorry. Hey Roy!" Johnny stumbled around the annoyed woman and jogged to catch up with his partner as they approached nurse's station.
Dixie's eyes sparkled in amusement. She watched as the younger paramedic tripped over himself on his way over. She swept her dark eyelashes up to make eye contact with the older counterpart who rolled his eyes and shook his head, gracing her with an amused smile. Johnny flashed her his own crooked grin as he landed in front of her. "Hiya, Dix!"
"Well, hello yourself, tiger. What's got you all riled up this morning?" Dixie smiled up at the younger of her favorite paramedics. But tipping her head to Roy, she asked, "Or do I want to know?"
Johnny opened his mouth, but Roy was faster, "Chet tried to pawn off one of his friends on Johnny."
"A date?" Dixie questioned the now annoyed Johnny.
"Travel agent," he responded, lightly nudging Roy's knee with his own to tell his partner to shut up.
Dixie well remembered the trouble Chet's real estate agent had stirred up. "I see," she commiserated in complete understanding.
"Yeah, well," Johnny began, pulling himself up to his full height and crossing his arms over his chest. "I got my own travel agent. I don't ne…"
"Dixie, we need some supplies," Roy interrupted before Johnny had a chance to tirade all over the poor nurse. He handed her their list and grinned at Johnny.
They both ignored Johnny's "hermph". Dixie scanned the list. "Looks like you need a little bit of everything. C-shift wasn't able to resupply?"
"No," Roy informed her. "Dwyer said they had a few back to backs this morning right up to shift change. Left it for us to handle." Nodding imperceptibly back at his partner, Roy confided, "Kind of glad that they did."
"Well," Dixie said, sliding off of her stool, "this is going to take a few minutes to gather. Why don't you boys get some coffee in the lounge and come back in, oh, 10 or 15 minutes."
Roy smiled at her for giving them enough of a break from the station to get Johnny off his track. "Thanks, Dix. C'mon, Junior." He tugged at Johnny's sleeve as he turned to go to the staff lounge.
Johnny gave Roy the small look of distaste he always did when his friend used that nickname. "Right with ya, Pally!" he called out to the man. He turned his goofiest grin on Dixie and wiggled his fingers at her before following his partner down the hall.
It was a much calmer John Gage, and happier Roy DeSoto, that picked up the overstuffed supply box on the way out of Rampart 10 minutes later. The break had given Roy just the time he needed to distract his partner with a story about his kids. An invitation to a Joanne-cooked breakfast after shift end was the finishing touch to put the Travel Agent Tirade completely out of Johnny's mind.
On the way out of the Emergency Room doors the HT crackled and the dispatcher's voice came over, "Squad 51, what's your status?"
Roy lifted the handset to reply, "Squad 51 available."
LA Dispatch returned, "10-4, 51. Prepare for response." No time to put the supplies away. Johnny and Roy jogged out to the squad. Johnny just shoved the box of supplies into the squad's compartment with the drug box while Roy took the longer jog to his side of the truck's cab. Both slid in to their seats as the HT beeped three times
Squad 51…child down…
He heard the location on the HT, but Johnny picked up the squad's radio handset instead to acknowledge, "Squad 51, 10-4," before jotting the address and time on his call log. Luckily, it was in the neighborhood across the street from the hospital
Roy had the engine started and the squad moving forward before John even started to write. They needed to move fast on this one. It was a child down call. Neither man liked these kinds of runs and the tension in their faces showed it.
For Roy, it was because he was a father. He always had to push the image of Chris or Jenny in their young patient's place out of his mind. Some of the worse child rescues he'd been involved in ended up in his nightmares.
For Johnny, it was his affinity to kids. He had a way of being able to connect with them at their own level. He understood their thinking process, which was different than an adults. He still employed it himself most of the time. It was one of the reasons people, mostly women, mistook him for just a big kid.
The cab of the squad was silent as they pulled up to the address they had been given. No discussion on navigation was necessary as they were familiar with this neighborhood, having been in this area before on other runs. They could see the situation right away.
There was a car parked halfway down the driveway of the house. Its driver's side door was wide open. The apparent driver of the car was kneeling down by a small child who was on the ground behind the car and partially under it.
While John was grabbing the biophone and the drug and trauma boxes out of the squad's compartments on his side of the vehicle, a women burst out of the front door of the house and ran towards Roy. "You got here so fast!" She cried. "I barely got off the phone."
Roy caught her shoulders before she could run headlong into him. "Yes, ma'am. We were at Rampart. Are you the mother?"
"Yes," she practically sobbed. "Jodi! Is she still alive?"
By this time Johnny had gotten to the child. He'd already set down his burden and gently pushed the man's hands away from the little girl. As he began his IPA, he called up to the distraught mother, "Yes, ma'am, she's alive." Addressing the man, he asked, "Are you her father?"
His response was painful to hear. "I don't deserve to be. Yes, she's mine. What have I done? I didn't see her!"
"Yes, sir. I understand," Johnny said patiently. "Uh, do you think you can step away for a minute so I can get a better look at your daughter?" The little girl was half under the rear of the car, and the lower part of her body was inaccessible.
Realizing he was in the way, Jodi's father muttered an apology and moved over to stand with his wife. This gave John, and now Roy as he joined his partner, the room to gently move the small body out from under the car. The little girl was unconscious and having trouble breathing. With deft fingers, Johnny quickly determined that she had sustained several broken ribs and a possible broken pelvis.
Between the two of them, vitals were taken and jotted down. Johnny set up the biophone and relayed those numbers, along with is assessment of her injuries, while Roy cleaned and bandaged a cut both men had observed across the bridge of her nose.
All the while, in the background, the parents could be heard, not crying, but arguing.
"How could you not have seen her?" the mother accused.
The father's distraught voice rang out louder, "I looked. She must have been right behind the car. And. She's. Short. Why did you let her out of the house?" he threw back.
"I didn't 'let' her out. She knows how to work a doorknob, ya know. Four isn't a baby anymore," she yelled right in her husband's face.
As a police car and the ambulance rolled up, Roy stood and approached the arguing couple. "Hey, hey, hey," he placated as he stepped in front of them. "This isn't helping your daughter. She needs both of you right now to focus on her." While the father looked contrite, mom began to turn her anger towards Roy. Stopping her before she could get a word at him out, Roy explained, "I'm a dad, too. I've got a little girl just a couple years older than Jodi. I understand you want to blame each other, but the fact is it was just an accident." Roy gave them both his best reassuring smile. "I worry all the time that one of my kids is gonna get hurt. And my worse fear is that it's gonna be something I did. So I'm careful. But I've got a big pickup truck that I probably couldn't even see my wife in the rear view mirror if she were standing right behind it, so I could be in your shoes," he said, looking at the father, "any time I pull out of my own driveway. And our kids play in the front yard, and they also know how to open doors. And kids move faster than you can imagine, you know that." By this time, Roy had gotten even the irate mom to calm down and realize that her husband wasn't to blame.
Johnny had their patient packaged now and was helping the attendants load her onto the ambulance, calling out to let Roy know that he was going with the little girl. Roy waved his acknowledgment while the father was apologizing to his wife for blaming her. She, in turn, apologized for blaming him. "Now," Roy interrupted them, "we're taking Jodi over to Rampart. As soon as you finish with this officer," Roy gestured to the cop who had been waiting just off to the side to get a statement, "you can come over to the emergency room there, and they'll be taking real good care of your little girl."
Both parents nodded and mumbled their thanks as they turned towards the police officer who was waiting to take their statements.
As Roy backed the squad back into the ambulance bay they had only just vacated 15 minutes ago, he saw his partner leaning against the wall outside waiting for him. He reached for the key to turn the ignition off, but caught sight of Johnny walking up to the passenger door of the squad out of the corner of his eye through the side view mirror. Roy wore a puzzled look as he replaced his hand on the steering wheel.
"Ya know, Roy," Johnny began as he opened the door to get in, "I don't get those two."
"Which two? Jodi's parents?"
"Yeah. Their little girl is lying there injured and all they can do is argue about who's to blame." Johnny punctuated his aggravated confusion by closing the door a little too hard. "Ya know they started up again when Brackett asked them what happened."
"I believe it," Roy sighed as he pulled out of the bay. "I'll bet there's more going on there than just blaming each other for this."
"Yeah. I just feel sorry for Jodi. It's always the kids who get the worst of it when parents fight."
Glancing over at his partner, Roy saw him with a faraway look. He was staring out the side window with his brow furrowed, watching something that wasn't the passing scenery. Slowly, Roy asked, "You're not talking about your…?"
"No," Johnny cut him off, "not mine. But I've seen some of the kids' folks on the rez really lay into each other. They take their anger about conditions out on each other. Then the kids get angry 'cause they're raised with anger and they take it out on…" He paused, realizing something. Then, with a small, ironic laugh, quietly continued, "…on me."
When the squad pulled back into the station and came to rest next to the engine out on the apron, Chet noticed out of the corner of his eye that Johnny made a beeline for the dorm while Roy sauntered back toward the dayroom. His curiosity piqued, Chet nodded in the direction the younger paramedic had gone and addressed the elder one. "What's up with Gage?"
Roy looked in the indicated direction, then back at Chet, trying to figure out the best way to explain and get Chet off Johnny's back at the same time. "Bad run," he settled on. While not entirely true that was the effect it had on his partner.
Chet accepted the explanation and just grunted his understanding. Bad runs were to be left alone. Everyone had them and everyone had their own way of dealing with them. Even the Phantom knew not to bother someone after a bad run.
Mike looked up when Roy walked alone into the dayroom. Addressing the senior medic he asked, "Has Gage told you whether it's hamburgers for lunch and hot dogs for dinner, or the other way around?" This earned a chuckle from Marco, who had finished cleaning the latrines while the squad was out and was taking a break.
"Neither," Roy answered. "He said he brought in cold cuts for lunch and was doing something special for dinner. He wouldn't say what."
This perked up Chef Marco's ears. "Special? Johnny knows how to cook something special?"
"So he claims. And there's a container of something in the refrigerator with 'do not touch' written on top in Johnny's handwriting," Roy replied as he took a carrot out of the fridge crisper and swung the door closed.
Mike asked, "What's it look like?"
"A red Tupperware bowl," came the carrot filled answer. Roy swallowed, thinking to himself that he was beginning to pick up Johnny's bad habits.
In the locker room, Johnny was sitting in his locker again. He was looking at the recipe his mother had dictated to him a couple of days ago when he called her. Closing his eyes, he could see his mother standing in their kitchen, making the food she ate as a child. Opening them up again, Johnny could almost smell his mother's cooking as he read the recipe over. He hadn't realized how much he missed it.
He'd had to bring some of the ingredients from home. He knew that the station kitchen didn't have things like grainy mustard or caraway seeds. And they definitely didn't have red wine, or red wine vinegar either. Those last two he'd had to sneak in, the correct measurements of each, in small jars and hide in one of the less used cabinets in the kitchen.
Chet had been bugging him about trying some of his family's traditional food, arguing that they all ate Mama Lopez's tamales. Marco had even made Irish stew for them, even though it was Chet himself who was Irish. Johnny decided to acquiesce to Chet's demands, but not in the way he thought. He was half German, after all.
Johnny stood up and looked at his watch. If they left right now to go to grocery store, provided they didn't get any major runs, he would have enough time to start the meat cooking so it would be ready for supper. He left the locker room and strode across the app bay, a smile playing across his face as he thought about how surprised the guys were gonna be tonight.
TBC
A/N: Sorry for such a long delay between chapters this time. I didn't intend for that to happen, but family drama occurred and I only just was able to get back to writing this past month. Don't worry, Ch. 7 is partway written and most of the way outlined. It should be up soon.