A House Divided – Chet's Cataclysm
Chapter 3
Warning: strong language
The heated disagreement between the A-shift paramedics was pushed aside as they barreled down streets busy with morning traffic; both men always took each call very seriously but when it involved a child, the sense of urgency and dread was heightened exponentially.
"Take a left at the next light," Johnny directed looking up from the book of maps he was consulting; the verbal altercation between himself and Roy pushed to the back of his mind for the moment.
As the squad made the turn, a frantic young woman stood waving her arms in front of a beige stucco duplex. As soon as Roy screeched to a stop, the woman ran over to his door. He stepped out and was surprised by her flinging herself into his arms, terrified wails ringing in his ears.
"Ma'am…ma'am?" Roy grabbed her upper arms and pushed her away enough so that he could make eye contact with her while his partner removed the biophone and drug box.
When she continued in her panic, Roy shook her slightly trying desperately to obtain information from her. "Ma'am…is it your child that's sick?"
"Ye…yes…she's," the young woman was stammering, running a nervous hand through her golden hair, "she's burning up. She was fine when she got up a few hours ago. It was earlier than usual but she was hungry so I fed her breakfast. She pla…played a while in our bedroom and then was ready for her nap. When I went to check on her she was…um, so hot and, ah… sweating."
Roy locked eyes with his partner who had also heard the symptoms the woman had described.
"Ma'am, if you'll just lead us to her, please?" Johnny's chin strap was left swinging beneath his chin as he dipped down to pick up the orange and black boxes while Roy removed the portable oxygen and IV box and followed the others inside.
"You said she ate breakfast before her nap…how's her appetite? Any vomiting?"
The young mother opened the door leading the paramedic pair inside before answering Roy's questions. "No..I mean, yes…I mean…yes, she ate normally and no she hasn't been vomiting."
The trio made their way through the small duplex to the back bedroom. "Here, she's in here…I, I just laid her down for her nap here on our bed between these pillows and…"
"Ma'am, has she been sick recently?" While waiting for an answer, Johnny set the boxes down, removing his helmet as he approached the tow-headed toddler who lay on her stomach and appeared to be sleeping peacefully on her parents' bed. He instinctively reached for her noting a bright rosy cheek turned toward him as Roy began assembling the biophone to contact Rampart.
"No, no she's been a very healthy child since she was born a year and a half ago…and she's up to date on all her immunizations…and…oh, please…help my baby," she whimpered pathetically.
Just as Johnny reached for the little girl's forehead, she turned her face over and Johnny was stunned at how warm she felt, especially her cheek. "Hey there, princess…can you wake up for me?" He gently shook the young girl as he rolled her over onto her back.
Sleepy eyes cracked open, momentarily looking up at him before lazily drifting back closed.
"Rampart, this is squad 51. How do you read?" Roy repeated the usual call phrase as he watched his partner, listening for any information he might need to share with the hospital staff.
"Unit calling in, repeat?" The disembodied voice was that of Dr. Mike Morton.
"Rampart, this is squad 51. We have a female child approximately 18 months old. She's lethargic, febrile, and she's diaphoretic. Stand by for vitals."
Johnny again shook the small girl, removing the pillows from around her so as to access her better. He looked up at the worried mother, "what's her name?"
"Cammie," the mother replied, hands clasped beneath her chin.
Big green eyes opened blinking rapidly until she finally realized that a stranger was hovering over her. Her small face wrinkled and her bottom lip and chin began to quiver as if summoning the blood curdling scream that quickly followed.
"Atta girl, Princess Cammie, wake up. I need to check ya out, ok? I won't hurt ya, sweetie," Johnny crooned, grabbing his stethoscope as he sat down on the edge of the bed.
Roy held the biophone, waiting for the vitals Dr. Morton needed before orders for treatment could be issued, when suddenly he saw Johnny's eyebrows knit together in confusion. He watched as his partner lifted his hips up off the bed briefly then sat back down, the same confused expression spreading once more across his chiseled features.
"Huh?" Johnny stood up again, placing an open palm down on the bed near where he'd been sitting.
"What've you got, Johnny?" Roy was anxious for the information he needed to relay to the waiting physician.
"I dunno…um," he felt around again on the bed then released a perplexed sigh as he looked along the edges of the bed on the floor. "Hmmm…uh, ma'am, do you have an electric blanket on this bed?"
"Yes, but we only use it at night when it's cold…I haven't turned it on in…oh no!" She gasped loudly as all three adults noticed the small controller on the floor had an orange glow indicating that it was turned on a very warm setting.
Johnny stood up holding the crying infant and again felt of her face. To his relief, it was noticeably cooler than when he had first felt of it.
"51 do you have vitals?"
Roy picked up the receiver again, "Ah, stand by Rampart…this may not be an emergency after all."
"Here," Johnny handed the terrified child to her mother. "See if you can calm her down a little and then we'll see how she's doing."
Roy leaned over and clicked off the blanket as they waited for the mother's gentle rocking motion and soft humming to soothe the crying child. As soon as she had settled down, Johnny placed a thermometer beneath her small arm.
"Ma'am, I think she's probably fine but let me listen to her heart and lungs…babies can get sick pretty quickly." Johnny placed the earpieces in his ears and slowly lifted the child's shirt so as not to cause her any more anxiety. He placed the stethoscope on her chest then glanced sheepishly into the mother's eyes. "Um, I hate to ask ya this but can ya maybe not hum for just a minute?"
"Oh, sorry," she whispered, tenderly stroking the back of her daughter's head; a smile of embarrassment peeking out from behind her daughter's head.
Johnny flashed his crooked grin at the scene beside him as he listened intently to the youngster's breathing and heartbeat. His smile broadened even further when he removed the earpieces, releasing his stethoscope to dangle around his neck. "Lungs sound clear and heart sounds strong," he smiled stroking the toddler's hair. A moment later he removed the thermometer, eyes lighting up when he read it. "Less than half a degree elevated." He shook it down before returning it to its designated spot in the box while listening to Roy in the background informing Rampart of the circumstances surrounding the call.
"51, advise the mother to remove patient's clothing down to her diaper and use a wet cloth to continue cooling her down. Also, offer her plenty of fluids for the rest of the day. If she has any concerns, she should seek medical care."
"10-4… squad 51 out," Roy said calmly then began packing up the biophone.
Johnny looked over at the mother who sat crying as she pulled the small white shirt over her daughter's head. He placed a hand on her arm and felt her shaking beneath his grasp. "Are you ok?"
The mother sniffed, "yea…just happy she's ok…and," she sniffed again before continuing, "and feeling pretty stupid."
Roy spoke up, hoping to offer a little comfort. "Is she your first?" He waited for the affirmative nod he was expecting and then spoke again. "Well, there will be a few more of these incidents before she's grown. I've got two kids and…well, let's just say that kids can get into some of the darnedest predicaments."
"But, this is my fault…I mean, I don't know how but…I guess I turned it on when I was cleaning earlier."
"More than likely, your little one was doing a little exploring. You did say she was playing in here before her nap," he grinned at the big round eyes looking at him, hovering over a pouty mouth sucking her thumb; her head was leaning contentedly against her mother's chest. "I'll bet you she turned it on herself."
"I never thought of that," the mother replied, dabbing her dampened cheek with the back of her hand. "Larry, my husband, was watching her while he was getting ready for work. He had to catch an early flight so our day started earlier than usual. I was getting breakfast ready while they were in here."
"Well then…just blame it on Larry," Roy said with a mood-improving chuckle.
"And don't ever feel stupid for callin' us out. These are the kind o' runs we like…happy endings with no illness or injury," Johnny said with a big smile hoping that he and Roy could help her regain her maternal confidence.
"Well, thank you…thank you both."
"You're welcome," Roy said softly.
"No problem at all," Johnny chimed in as he and Roy packed up their equipment and returned to the squad.
E!
Hank exited his office behind Chet, watching the younger man make his way to the latrine to begin his assigned chores. Feeling assured that his lineman was doing alright, he made the turn into the kitchen. After the two conversations he'd already had this morning, he knew he needed a strong cup of coffee to face whatever the remainder of the shift brought.
He poured an extra half scoop of ground coffee into the coffee filter then began the percolation process. He stood up a little straighter with a hint of confusion on his face. "Marco?"
"Yes," the lineman said acknowledging his superior's call as he put away the last of the dishes he was drying.
"I distinctly remember assigning Gage kitchen duty."
"Oh," he said laying the dish towel across the empty dish drain. "Well, he and I were talking when the squad got called out so I just finished up what he had started." He turned to begin straightening up the day room when Hank stopped him.
"Talking? About your partner, by any chance?"
Marco stopped in his tracks; his back still to his captain. He gritted his teeth not wanting to answer the question but knowing Hank would see through any attempt at deception. "Um, yes…yes we were, Cap." He slowly turned around shoving his nervous hands into his pockets while he looked in the general direction of Hank but not directly at him.
Hank closed the gap between the two of them. "So…what do you think, Marco? You're closer to him than any of the rest of us."
A deep sigh was expelled from Marco's lips buying him a couple of extra moments to gather his thoughts. Finally, his dark eyes probed his superior's face searching for understanding and affirmation. "Something's wrong, Cap. I know he says he's just tired from helping out around his apartment complex but, I don't know…I'm just not buying it."
"So…Johnny isn't the only one, huh?" Hank pulled out a chair from the table; his head was beginning to throb and he desperately needed the extra dose of caffeine he was preparing.
"No…he and I both see it…but, uh…guess we're the only ones…unless you see it too." His comment was intended as a question.
Hank's silence told Marco that his captain wasn't going to take the verbal bait he had dangled. He knew that if he and Johnny were going to find another ally…a very strong ally…then he had to convince the older man. "Cap," he began, pulling out a chair beside Hank, "it's not just his appearance and mood either."
Hank looked up, deep concern furrowed his brow. "What else?"
Marco looked around to make sure they were still alone. "Cap, he has no social life anymore. He hasn't had a date in months now."
A smile tugged at Hank's lips and Marco saw the light return to his eyes. "Well, that might explain things." Hank leaned forward patting his older lineman on the shoulder. "I'm glad you mentioned that. Maybe all he needs is some quality time with the right young woman." He emphasized his response with a knowing wink then stood up to get the cup of coffee he had needed since he first arrived at the station.
"Cap," Marco spoke up seeing only Hank's back as the lanky man poured himself a hot cup of the regenerating liquid, "his lack of….uh, I mean, I don't think his celibacy is the problem."
Hank took a quick sip, grimacing when he burned his tongue slightly. "Might be. After all, he is a young healthy male, Lopez." He sat back down leaning back in his chair with a broad grin on his face. "Besides…it's not just you younger men who get cranky without it," he said with a knowing smile and a quick wiggle of his eyebrows, blowing on his cup of coffee before trying to take a second sip. When Marco didn't respond as Hank thought he should, the older man leaned forward returning his cup to the table. "Ok…this is really serious isn't it?"
"Yes sir," Marco said glancing at the top of the table. "I'm really worried about him."
Hank sensed that there was more on Marco's mind than what he was revealing. He stared at the worried man for a few minutes allowing him time to say more. When he didn't, Hank spoke again. "Alright, I know you're a very level headed fellow so if you're worried then I know I should be too. But, I honestly don't know what's going on and he isn't telling me anything other than the same story you're getting. Any ideas?"
Marco pressed his lips together in a thin line, more as a means of withholding his suspicions than a sign of frustration. Hank was his captain and he respected and admired him. But Chet was his partner and he felt like he owed it to him to try to confirm what was going on instead of blurting out what he thought might be wrong with him. He was glad that Johnny had already informed Hank about the possibility that Chet had developed a drinking problem. At least his captain knew something was going on but Marco just couldn't bring himself to say anything…not yet anyway.
"Marco? You with me, pal?"
Marco looked up at the sound of Hank's voice calling his name and realized that he had been lost in thought. "Oh…sorry, Cap. Uh, no I…I don't know."
"Hmmm…I see," Hank rubbed his chin briefly as he contemplated this latest information. "Well, do me a favor will ya?"
"Sure."
"Talk to him, please. And let me know if I need to intervene or…or if you think he isn't able to do the job."
Marco acknowledged the request with a simple nod of his head. He didn't bother telling Hank that he'd tried multiple times to talk to Chet but his partner just wasn't saying much about his personal life…and he certainly wasn't admitting to any problems other than fatigue. He heard the scraping of the chair as Hank pushed away from the table.
"Thanks," he said walking out the kitchen door leaving Marco sitting alone.
Marco scowled propping his elbows on the table and resting his face in his hands; swearing uncharacteristically into his palms. "Damn it!" He scrubbed his face with his hands then stood up to finish his chore assignment. Mentally, he crossed both Roy and Captain Stanley off his list of possible assistants. He had already had a preliminary conversation with Mike which had not been encouraging; he just hoped that perhaps he and Johnny could change their engineer's mind. If Hank was going to be 'walking the fence' for a while, then maybe they could persuade his second in command to do something.
E!
Mike was sweeping the dorm room when he heard loud banging noises coming from the latrine. He silently opened the door between the rooms just to make sure Chet was alright. He knew the lineman had been called into Hank's office before beginning his chores. He didn't want to put himself in the middle of whatever might be going on between their captain and his lineman. In his position as engineer, he couldn't be pulled into taking sides during a disciplinary action – if in fact that was what was going on.
Chet's anger at Johnny was only making the throbbing in his head more pronounced. He shoved the mop handle against the wall hard enough that it bounced off and fell to the floor. "Sonofabitch," he moaned adding a swift kick to the wooden handle sending it sliding on the bathroom floor landing beneath the sinks. "Who the hell does he think he is anyway? So he has some specialized training; so what? 'S not like he's a damn doctor! He's just a freakin' paramedic who thinks he knows what's…."
Mike was alarmed by Chet's rambling discussion with no one and decided to intervene before he damaged himself or some inanimate object within the station. "Hey, you ok Kelly?"
Chet's reddened face looked around for the source of the question. He had been so lost in his own thoughts that he hadn't realized he'd been talking out loud. He propped both hands on his hips, inhaling a deep breath then blowing out his cheeks as he stared at the floor; he could really use a friend at the moment and right now, it seemed like Mike might be the only person he could turn to. "Yea…yea, I guess. Gage just really pissed me off this morning 's all."
Having already briefly discussed the situation with Marco on a previous shift, Mike had an idea of what was going on. As he stood there watching Chet struggle to find the words he wanted to use, he couldn't help but notice the circles underneath his blood shot eyes. "So, what'd John do to fire you up?"
"He…he went to Cap," Chet began with animated hands reminding Mike of the man who had instigated his fury, "and told him I had some kinda problem or somethin'….hell, I don't know what he told him." Chet stepped to his locker, opening the door and digging through his duffle bag for his bottle of aspirin. He popped two in his mouth and gagged as he forced his throat to dry swallow the bitter pills.
"Gave you a headache, huh?" Mike immediately felt foolish for stating the obvious but he was hoping Chet might open up a little and either confirm or deny the thoughts Marco had planted in Mike's brain during their talk.
"Yea…I hate it when he does that….I mean, can't a guy help an old lady out without it landing him in his captain's office?" Chet finally looked up at Mike who was leaning his hips against a sink, arms crossing his chest.
"I don't understand…how'd that get you in trouble with Cap?" Mike relaxed a little, crossing his legs at the ankles.
Chet shook his curly haired head in obvious exasperation. "I wish I knew, Stoker. I mean…ok, so I'm a little tired and I've lost some sleep lately. It's just 'cause I'm helping Ms. Hankins do some minor repair work around our place. She's gonna give me a break on my rent so I figured it'd be worth the headache….damn sure didn't plan on it turning into a federal case at the station though."
Mike briefly contemplated the situation as he knew it. Looking at Chet, he could understand why Johnny might have gone to Hank and he also understood why Marco had brought it up too. But now, listening to Chet's explanation, he thought that what the lineman had said made perfect sense. He waited a few moments to make sure Chet had calmed down.
"I gotta get busy…don't wanna do anything else to piss Cap off," he said flinching with a hiss as he stood on his sore foot; a move that did not go unnoticed by the other man in the room.
"Chet?" Mike pushed his hips off the sink he'd been leaning against and took a step in his friend's direction. "You hurt?"
"No, no…just did some scraping off of the old paint along the eaves," he lied more convincingly than he thought he could," guess I overworked my lower back muscles a little." He looked up at the taller man, forcing a smile to replace the pain-filled grimace. "The aspirin'll help. Thanks, man."
Mike watched him walk over to the sinks and reach underneath, grabbing the handle of the mop and pulling it out so he could begin his assignment. Mike noticed that Chet seemed to have no problem bending down but he thought he noticed a slight limp as the still angry Irishman took a few steps toward the wall where he began mopping the floor. Guess if I'd been scraping paint off the eaves of my apartment building then my back might ache too.
He walked back to the dorm to finish what he'd been assigned to do. But while he worked his way from bed to bed changing the sheets, his mind kept replaying the conversation over and over and over again…something wasn't right about Chet's story…he just couldn't quite figure it out.
E!