A House Divided – Chet's Cataclysm
Chapter 21
He opened his mouth to speak but instead of his own voice, it was his captain's deep baritone words that echoed in the empty apparatus bay.
"Care to join us for a cup of coffee? I bet we can find some juice for this lovely little lady too," Hank grinned at Corrie as she looked up at him while inching closer and closer to her mother.
"Oh…no, I mean…I don't want to impose," Caroline remarked, suddenly feeling self-conscious of their unannounced visit. "I…we," she corrected, squeezing Corrie's tiny hand, "just wanted to stop by to tell you all thank you."
"It's no imposition at all. We enjoy visits especially from pretty ladies," Mike offered with a wink at the bashful little girl. He reached out a hand to Chet assisting his lineman to his feet and noting the shell-shocked look on his face.
"He's right; we've got fresh coffee and you can see the previous shift is still on a run so we won't be getting toned out." Marco had also heard about the mysterious Caroline Marks from his engineer and wanted to find out more about her and her obvious connection to Chet.
"Well, if you're sure we won't be in the way…"
A multitude of male voices assured her that their presence was welcome as the small group made their way to the kitchen. Chet's voice wasn't among them as he remained speechless staring at the little girl and her mother. He continued to cough and clear his throat from behind the group and was the last one to enter the kitchen. He pulled out a chair and sat down realizing that Roy had already assisted Caroline with her seat.
"It's nice to see you again…under better circumstances, ma'am." Roy's memory had finally made the connection. "Looks like everything turned out alright for you…both of you," he said softly.
Mike and Marco began passing steaming cups of coffee to the adults gathered around the table.
"Grape juice or milk?"
Caroline looked at the tall paramedic she didn't recognize and saw the painful looking mark on his neck. By Corrie's reaction, she saw it too.
"Owie," she said, pointing at the tall thin man.
"Yes, Mr. Johnny got an owie at work yesterday," Roy said wondering to himself if he'd just lied to a toddler.
Caroline recovered from the shock and looked down at her daughter sitting in her lap. "Sweetie, would like some juice or some milk?"
"Monk," she uttered in her tiny voice then turned her face into her mother's chest.
Johnny couldn't stop the crooked smile that tugged at his lips. "Well then monk it is," he said using the child's own pronunciation of the word. He poured it into a small juice glass and returned the pink carton to the top shelf of the refrigerator. "Here ya go," he said placing the smoky colored glass in front of the little girl. "I'm afraid we don't keep sippy cups around here."
"What do you say, Corrie?" Caroline asked, grinning at Johnny's quip.
The little girl looked up at her mother then at the paramedic. "Tank coo."
"Ah, you're very welcome." Johnny patted the little girl on her head.
"Thank you," Caroline smiled accepting the proffered cup of coffee from Mike.
"So what brings you by for a visit?" Hank inquired, sipping his coffee; his encounter with his first cup hadn't ended well for either of them but especially not for the cup.
"I wanted to," she hesitated then reached inside her purse and pulled out a small brightly colored card. "That is…Corrie and I wanted to invite you all to her third birthday party next weekend." She handed the card to Hank. "It's because of you all that…that we're here."
Johnny racked his brain trying to remember assisting in Corrie's birth or rescue but his mind was blank. He looked around at Roy who was smiling and then at Chet who was still stunned. "I love kid's birthday parties."
"That's because you're still a kid, Junior."
A round of snickers followed Roy's comment.
"Sh…she's really…here and she's….she's ok," Chet mumbled, beginning to connect the dots from the previous year.
Caroline smiled down at her little girl who was enjoying her milk. "Yes, Mr. Kelly…she's perfect and…I wanted to thank you," she looked around her. "All of you for saving us."
"Chet…you can call me Chet. I'm…uh…,"
"Speechless? That's a first for you, Kelly," Johnny laughed.
"Ha ha," Chet smirked. "So her name's Corrie?"
"Actually, it's Corrine but I call her Corrie…after her father…Corey Marks," Caroline explained.
"I'm sure he's very proud of her," Roy mentioned thinking of his own little princess and the close bond they shared.
A shadow crossed Caroline's face as she pulled her daughter a little tighter. "He would've been…he, uh…he died in Vietnam…they never met."
"I'm very sorry for your loss," Roy said slightly bowing his head.
"Thanks," Caroline murmured accepting the offered condolences. "That's why she's a bit shy around men though. It's been just the two of us her whole life."
"I'm sure that's difficult for you, ma'am. My daughter was quite a handful at that age."
She looked into the blue eyes of the paramedic whose calm reassuring voice she remembered so well from that terrible morning. "Well, after the accident…it doesn't matter how much of a handful she is…I'm just so grateful to you all for getting us out of that wreckage."
Johnny stood unusually still as he tried to recall the rescue to which she was referring but nothing came to mind. He placed a hand on his hip and formed an 'O' shape with his mouth about to ask a question when Chet chimed in.
"I'm…I'm just so amazed. I mean, you had a back injury and she was…geez, just look at her now," he felt a hint of a paternal smile spreading beneath his bushy mustache.
"It's ok Mr., er…Chet," Caroline blushed. "You can say it," she began stroking the toddler's hair as she finished up her milk. "She was gone…I had lost her and then," her voice broke as her vision blurred. "Then I heard Mr. DeSoto calling somebody on the radio and saying that…she didn't…have a pulse and wasn't brea-thing," she hiccupped, no longer able to control her emotions.
Johnny's brown eyes brightened beneath his upraised eyebrows as understanding enveloped him. He pointed back and forth between the mother and child and the lineman sitting next to them. "She's…you…foggy…Chet this…," he stammered.
Chet looked up at Johnny and flashed him a quick-witted grin. "Now who's speechless, Gage?"
"Well Awright!" Johnny's excitement could not be contained.
"This is my partner, John Gage. He was on the other end of the radio that morning talking to a doctor at Rampart General Hospital."
"Very nice to meet you Mr. Gage and thank…"
"Johnny…please, call me Johnny," he interrupted using his most flirtatious voice.
"Very well, Johnny."
"So she has no residual effects from the accident?" The paramedic had merged with the father in Roy and he had to ask the question.
Caroline kissed the top of her little girl's golden brown hair. "None…she's right on target for her age according to her pediatrician and…thankfully, she has no memory of the accident at all."
"Wow," Chet mumbled to himself. He felt his heart beginning to flip flop inside his chest as the conversation took him back to that day. He'd been battling fires for several years yet nothing had frightened him as much as pulling the lifeless child from beneath her mother as Roy lifted the injured woman; the memory of the mother's agonizing cries echoed in his mind. He recalled his sense of defeat as he checked for respirations and a pulse yet finding none and knowing that her mother was frightened and in pain still entrapped in the mangled mess. He had never had to perform CPR on a child before and yet at the scene of this accident, there was no one else around to do it. Johnny was with another victim some distance behind them and Roy and the rest of the guys were busy trying to extricate the little girl's mother. He never hesitated for even a second; he just began to do what he had been trained to do. His fears, worries, anxieties and self-loathing from earlier that morning seemed to dissipate as he performed the chest compressions and rescue breathing for the tiny girl lying so still on the cold damp asphalt of the 405 that foggy morning. He heard the ear piercing screeching of the tools used to peel open the top of the car and then the gut wrenching cries of the child's mother. He remembered hearing Roy's voice in the background as he finally made contact with Johnny to relay the information on the two female victims and he was determined to do everything he possibly could to prevent death from snatching this precious child from her mother. Silently, he mouthed his compression counts breaking only to breathe into the small oxygen-deprived lungs. Seconds blurred into what seemed like hours as his adrenaline levels continued to rise with each series of compressions and rescue breaths, forcing himself to remain restrained so as not to crush her tiny chest or damage her lungs. He repeatedly checked for a pulse but was disappointed each time. Anger at the situation mixed with his rugged determination as he continued his efforts to resuscitate the child. He refused to give up. He refused to allow death to swallow up this tiny soul without a fight. And so he continued his relentless efforts. Then he felt it; the faint feel of a pulse and the spontaneous rise and fall of the small chest beneath the heels of his hands. He rocked back sitting on his heels as he watched her eyelids flutter and the most beautiful pair of dark eyes peered up at him. He began to pant in celebration as he called out to Roy announcing that the girl had a pulse and was breathing on her own. Somewhere to his right he could here Roy's voice relaying the information to Johnny on the handy-talkie but it was the repeated joyous wails of the little girl's mother crying out 'she's alive…she's alive' that he knew would remain with him forever.
"…and all I could think was…she's alive." Caroline looked back down at her daughter with quivering lips. "She's alive," she looked up at Chet realizing that he was merely staring at her child. "Chet…because of you…she's alive. You gave her back…to me and…I can't ever…thank you enough," she whispered between hiccupping sobs.
Chet looked up at the sound of his name being called and realized that he'd somehow slipped inside of Caroline's recounting of the event rather than simply being a listener. He felt the heat rising from his collar and tinting his fair complexion.
Caroline leaned her lips down closer to her daughter and whispered something into the child's ear. She then took the empty glass from the pudgy hands and allowed the grinning girl to slip from her lap. Hesitantly, the child closed the distance between herself and the lineman and held up her arms in the universal signal that even a bachelor like Chet knew meant she wanted to be picked up and held.
Chet felt the heaviness in his chest as he watched the scene unfolding and felt the stinging beginning again in the backs of his eyes. He reached down pulling the pretty little girl in her red plaid dress into his lap. "Hey there, ladybug. How ya doin'?"
The little girl puckered up her pouty pink lips and leaned upwards. He tilted his face down just enough for her to plant a loud smacking kiss on his blushing left cheek. "Tank coo, Mizzer Fet," she giggled.
There wasn't a dry eye left on the face of a single adult in the kitchen of Station 51. Johnny ran his palm down his face while Roy swiped along the outer corner of his right eye with his index finger. Marco tilted his head sideways, using his light blue shirt sleeve to dry his face. Mike coughed into his closed fist reaching for a paper towel while Hank just allowed the wet streaks to slip downward on his tired face. Mike pulled a second paper towel off the roll and passed it to the weeping Caroline.
"Yo...ah, ahem, you're welcome, Corrie," Chet whispered wrapping his hand around her head and pulling her into a firm hug. He thought for sure his chest was going to explode as his heart swelled with joy. That simple heart-felt phrase uttered from the lips of the small child he had resuscitated nearly a year ago lifted him up from the somber pit of hell he'd been wallowing in for far too long. For the first time in a very long time, Chester B. Kelly felt a sense of accomplishment protected behind the glass of a shiny frame of happiness and hanging on his wall of personal fulfillment; a wall that up until this point in his life had been much to vacant.
"Thank you, Chet…Roy…," she tried to recall the names of the others but at the moment she wasn't even able to see their faces clearly amid her joyful tears. "Thank you…all of you."
Chet reached out to Caroline grasping her trembling hand in his own. "You're so welcome but…I need to thank you…and you too," he said staring down into the dark eyes of Corrie Marks. "I…I needed this," he struggled to say, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.
Corrie chose that moment to reach her tiny fingers up to Chet's face and stroke his mustache. "Kitty-cat." The room erupted in laughter.
"Your momma doesn't have one of these, huh?" Chet kidded.
"Like I said, it's just been the two of us for three years so, she isn't very familiar with men," an embarrassed Caroline explained again. "No sweetie…it's called a mustache." She informed her curious daughter, deciding it was a teachable moment.
"Well perhaps after her birthday party she'll feel more comfortable around us…right fellas?" Chet looked around the room at the faces of his shift mates and knew he didn't need an answer. They would be there. They would all be there to celebrate the birthday of the little girl who now had six men wrapped snuggly around her little finger.
"Oh, thank you…thank you so much. The, um…the directions are on the invitation," she offered, standing and reaching for Corrie.
"I'll walk you out," Chet said standing and following closely behind the mother and child.
"Thanks."
"Oh, Caroline," Mike began, reaching for a peach colored container on the counter. "Here's your plate from the other day. The cake was delicious." Mike passed the container to her while the rest of the men agreed with his statement.
Hank watched as Chet walked out the door escorting Caroline and Corrie to their vehicle. The kitchen door was still swinging when Mike locked eyes with his worried Captain and said what the rest of the crew were thinking.
"Cap…don't accept it. Don't let him do it, please."
Hank grimaced; he still had the letter in his office. It would've been easy enough to destroy the resignation letter but the confession written at the bottom where Chet admitted coming to work injured and then switching boots to make it look like he'd actually been injured on the job was something that Hank simply could not ignore. He pressed his lips into a thin line contemplating his next move. Running a hand through his dark hair, he propped a hand on his narrow hips blowing out his cheeks with an audible sigh. "I'll, uh…I'll be in my office. Send Chet in there when he comes back in, will ya?"