I hope people are still reading this. I haven't had any takers on guessing. Here are a few notes that will help with this story.

Dakohta Words
Aho- a greeting
Koda- friend
Hau-hello, hi
Waste tasunka- good horse
Tate- wind
Tezi-stomach
Wakan Tanka-great Spirit
Unshimalam ye oyate- Have mercy on me

tanagila-hummingbird

Marco and his mothers comments refer to another one of my stories (Child
of My Heart) still in progress.--Gwendolyn

Chapter 6

The remainder of the evening passed as slowly as the afternoon had. The squad had no calls out and the two paramedics stayed as far apart from each other as the space in the building would allow. When Cap finally suggested lights out, the tired men found Johnny already in his bunk, apparently asleep. Each of the engine crew muttered their good nights, each hoping that somehow sleep would cure whatever had happened between the paramedics.

Johnny laid in his bunk, eyes closed, left arm up over his face, listening to the sounds of his shiftmates being pulled snuggly into Morpheus's arms and dearly wishing he could join them. Unfortunately, his brain insisted on replaying the horrific scene in the squad over and over again.

Each time, the words spoken by the man he'd called his best friend hurt just as badly as they had the first time. The pain radiating through his soul caused tears to spring to his eyes but he refused to release them. This is what happens when you care too much, he angrily told himself, See? You knew better! If you let others see too much of yourself it only allows them to hurt you more.

He sighed heavily, yes, he did know better and he would learn from this mistake as he had learned from others. What came easily for others, what others seemed to have was not meant for the likes of him. He'd just forgotten that hard learned lesson for awhile. Or perhaps, and buried deeply within his sub consciousness this was likely, he wanted that sense of finally belonging so badly he'd merely convinced himself it had happened. Silently he strengthened his will and his resolve. He would survive because above all else, he was a survivor. With his thoughts on this, an uneasy sleep finally claimed him.

The morning tones brought the six men groggily to their feet, thankful that they'd had no runs and their strained shift was almost over. It wasn't long before members of B shift drifted in, replacing their A shift counterparts. As luck would have it, Johnny found himself in the locker room changing into his street clothes at the same time as Marco. He gave a faint nod when the other man walked in but turned his attention quickly back on his task at hand. The heavy weight of a hand on his shoulder startled him and he whirled around, eyes wide, stance protective, his heart racing.

Marco chuckled and backed off slightly, "Ease Johnny. It's just me. I forgot how easily you can startle. I'm sorry; I'll make more noise next time."

Johnny gave a slight grin that Marco noticed never reached his eyes. "Not a problem." He turned back to his locker, missing the frown and serious look crossing the Hispanic's face.

"Johnny, about yesterday. . ."

Johnny's breath froze in his throat but he didn't allow any other visible reaction. He could hear Marco fidgeting but continued digging in the recesses of his locker as if it was the most important thing to do. Finally Marco's voice came again, but lower. "Johnny. Give Roy time. You two are best friends; we all know that. Just go home, relax, and let time pass."

Johnny took a deep breath and swallowed. When he spoke, he made sure he kept his voice even and low. "Yeah. Sure."

Marco sighed. He knew Johnny was hurting; he knew the man well enough to image what was going on in his head and he was sure it wasn't pleasant. But he had to try, for Johnny's sake and for the promise he'd made his mother.

Johnny pulled his filled bag out of the locker and froze as the weight of an arm dropped onto him.

Marco draped an arm around Johnny's shoulder. In Spanish he told him. "Don't let this do that to you, Juanito. Don't close down and cut everyone out again." He could feel Johnny's quick breaths under his arm even though the younger man never moved and his gaze stayed down. Marco sighed, trying to find the words he hoped would get through to his youngest shiftmate. "Juanito, just promise me you will remember this. You are my brother. You ate from the same table as I; you slept in the same room as I for nearly a year. Now as grown men we both do so again. As a firefighter now and from before, we are a family. Never think differently, you are family." He dropped his arm and finished stuffing his clothes into his duffle. "Besides," he continued as he tossed the straps over his shoulder, "You want to tell Momma you think differently?"

Johnny finally faced him and gave a short laugh, "No. I learned that lesson well enough years ago."

Marco slapped his shoulder, "Smart man." Both men walked out of the locker room together and onto the back lot where the cars were parked. Before he could walk toward his waiting Rover, Johnny felt that hand on his shoulder again. He turned and his emotionless brown eyes met the concerned ebony eyes of his brother. "Remember John, family." Johnny gave a slow nod and Marco grinned. With a wave of his hand, he climbed into his car and left.

Johnny watched him go, a slight smile on his face. Then his eyes caught sight of the truck parked next to his Rover and all the days' pricks and jabs flooded back at him. His head dropped and, suddenly weary to the bone, he climbed into his car. "Well, we have 24 hours off. A lot can happen in 24 hours. Maybe next shift will be better." He started his car and drove off.

By the time Johnny pulled in front of his barn, he'd shoved his emotions deeply aside. He climbed out of his car and headed for the barn. He had chores to do and he welcomed the brainless activity that would be. As he entered the barn, he paused, taking a deep breath. God how he loved the smells here. The scent of horses mixed with feed and the sweet smell of fresh hay was a balm to Johnny's soul. A squabbling at his knees caught his attention and he looked down at his husky pup at one knee while his calico barn cat twyned around his ankles. The puppy gazed up at him with its one brown eye and one blue eye as he stood on his hind feet, his front feet on Johnny's knee. Johnny smiled as he rubbed the ears, "Hello Tezi, (teay see) ya miss me pal?"

The puppy gave a sharp bark and wagged its tail. Then it pulled back, dropped its front feet down with its butt still in the air, tail wagging furiously and yapped again. Johnny laughed at the puppy's playful antics. "I'll play later, fella. Right now I need to see about Tate (Tah teay)." Before he could move, the cat –who had hissed at the dog then jumped upon some stacked hay bales behind Johnny, leaped forward onto his shoulder. She leaned her body against his head, rubbing her face down his cheek as her tail wrapped around and tickled his opposite ear. He chuckled, "All right PQ. I see you." He reached up, scratching the velvet black and orange ears and was answered by a low rumbling purr. The cat then looked down and growled at the puppy who was again dancing at Johnny's feet. She moved her head until her green eyes could stare accusingly into Johnny's. He shrugged one shoulder. "I know. But he had nowhere else to go." She looked back down at the puppy, eyes narrowed and spat. Johnny laughed. He reached up and detached her from his shoulders, placing her again on the hay and rubbing her head in apology for moving her from her favored perch. "Yeah, I'm sure he's a nuisance right now, but I have full confidence in your ability to teach him."

A sharp whinny followed by blowing let him know that others were waiting for his attention and he moved further into the barn. He reached out a hand to the American Paint gelding in the stall. The pony pushed his nose into Johnny's hand blowing breath across it then lipping it. Johnny moved closer, resting his head against the pony's neck as it nuzzled him. "Aho, Koda, Aho. (ah ho, koe dah, ah ho) " he murmured as he stroked the soft muzzle. "Hau, Tate. Waste tasunka. (Houw, Tah teay. Wash tay tah shun kah)" He addressed the horse in his native tongue. His grandfather had taught him long ago that the spirit of the mighty horse didn't like the harsh sound of English. As such, he'd always greeted his horses first in Dakhota. He closed his eyes and leaned onto the animal, feeling Tate shift slightly to willingly take his weight as he mouthed Johnny's hair, his hay scented breath tickling Johnny's neck. Johnny could feel PQ leaning against one leg while Tezi sat on his feet. As it always did when he was with his animals, peace finally filled him, healing some of the open wounds in his soul.

A sharp noise broke the pleasant respite and Johnny straightened his body, his eyes searching out the cause of the intrusion. The figure of his neighbor's teenage daughter appeared by the tack room door then stopped. "Oh, Mr. Gage. I didn't hear your car."

Johnny grabbed up a brush and began grooming Tate's side. "That's alright, Lisa. I didn't realize you were home yet. How's college life?"

The sturdily built brunette tossed the 50 lb bag of feed she'd fetched from the storage shed in the back into the empty bin. "I got home yesterday. College is alright. Boy, there sure is a lot to study to be a vet." As she talked she whipped out a lock blade, opened it, slit the bag then upended it, empting the feed into the bin. She did this in a series of smoothly practiced motions.

Johnny nodded toward the bag. "Anymore back there?"

She nodded, "Two still. You won't need more at least to the end of the month."

Johnny nodded as he allowed himself to be soothed by the gentle brushing of his horse. Tate didn't mind it either. Lisa wiped her brow and smiled at him. "See you found a new friend." She motioned toward the puppy who was again sitting on Johnny's feet. Johnny looked down, "Yeah, I guess you could say he followed me home."

She snorted and Johnny gave her a sheepish grin and a faint shrug of his shoulders as she added. "Yeah, I know how strays 'just follow you home.'"

He paused looking closer at her as she grabbed up another brush and applied it to Tate's other side. "Looks like you've got some nasty scratches there on your arm."

She glanced at her arm where several long gouges still seeped. "Yeah, I was petting PQ and one of her other personalities took over. She nailed me good." Johnny gave a faint chuckle. He'd told the girl before that the reason the cat was named PQ was because she was a calico. "My mother once told me long ago that a calico cat might look like a pretty patchwork quilt but really it's just a warning coat—like a snake's rattle. The amount of colors on a calico are the number of personalities. That's why her name is Patchworked Quirk. PQ for short."

"Well," Johnny said as he finished his side of Tate, "Let me turn Tate out then come into the house and I'll fix you up."

"It's nothing, I'll just wash it up at home. I've had worse . . . oh, alright Mr.Gage." She sighed as he just looked at her, one eyebrow angled upward. He turned Tate out and watched him for a moment race across the field before walking toward his house, Tezi and Lisa right behind him. "and what's with this Mr. Gage crap?" He teased, "You go away for a few moments and suddenly I'm as old as my father to you?"

She laughed as she sat at the kitchen table, watching him as he filled a small bowl with water, grabbed a towel, and pulled out a first aid kit. "Sorry. Johnny. I just got into the habit of calling everyone older than me Mr or Mrs. In college the teachers require it."

Johnny set the gathered items down and gave him a mocked hurt look. "So, now I'm sooooo much older than you." She laughed as the paramedic pulled a chair closer to her and began irrigating the wounds. She had been a little nervous over how to act around him this time. After her first year away, she'd suddenly realized the differences in their ages. She'd known Johnny well for the last three years, since he'd bought his ranch near her parent's place, and as a grown up playmate before that.

Her father, Buddy 'Bud' Spencer, had been the engineer of the fire engine Johnny had started on as a lineman. She knew the stories well, was told them often when younger by both Johnny and her parents. How the department had started 'diversifying' in its recruiting and some objected to that. How her father had taken a liking to the skinny Indian kid on 'his' rig and out of a mixed combination of bullying and respect saved the boot from anything more than the usual boot hassling. Johnny never forgot.

He'd lost track of his friend after a badly broken leg forced Bud into retirement. The family and Johnny had exchanged the occasional Christmas card but never saw each other. Then Johnny had bought the ranch and discovered his old shiftmate was now his neighbor and 'little Lisa' and 'Baby Junie" were now young teenagers. Aware of a firefighter's work schedule, a deal was struck between the two. Johnny would provide room in his barn for the horse the parents wanted to buy for their girls and in exchange, they would care for the animals on the days he worked or when he was laid up with injuries.

Johnny patted the cleaned wounds dry with the towel and sprayed on an antibiotic. "How's your parents?" he asked.

"Good. Mom's fussing still at Dad about watching his weight and Dad just keeps telling her it's her fault for cooking so well. Mom also said to remind you we'll be gone for three weeks after Memorial Day. You don't need to do anything at the house, 'cause George, her cousin is house-sitting but you know how he is with animals."

Johnny laughed, "In other words, everything's the same." And he did know how George was, having had been frantically called out to the barn when the man had followed the girls over once and had a full blown panic attack over the 'horrible man-eating creatures' within.

Lisa grinned. "Yeap. By the way. Mom sent over some of that applecrisp stuff you like so much." She made a face to show her dislike of the dessert. "I put it in the fridge." Johnny finished his administrations and stood. "Tell her I said thanks." Lisa also stood and made her way to the door. "I'll be back tomorrow to put the horses away and take out the puppy." She paused, "By the way, I know Tate is Indian for wind. I assume Tezi is another Indian word?"

Johnny dumped out the bowl and put away the supplies as he nodded. "Yeap, it means stomach." He watched her as her eyes grew big then she burst out in laughter. "You named your dog 'stomach'!! That's rich coming from you!"

He faked a frown, "hey! I'll have you know I resemble that remark!" She shook her head laughing as she headed out the door.

Johnny watched her go up the road and felt the lightened mood inside him disappear with her. He dropped his head and sighed. He was bone weary but knew if he gave in and slept now, he wouldn't be able to sleep tonight. So he set his shoulders and began his house chores. After all the cabinets had been cleaned, the floors done and his dirty laundry all washed and put away, he allowed himself a break. After a quick late lunch and more chores, darkness was falling. He put the horses away, finished their nighttime routine and slowly headed back into the house, desperately thinking of something else he could do.

As he moved the mail from the table near his couch, he noticed the dust. 'Dusting. I can dust.' He grabbed a rag and began. However, he didn't make it very far before he was pulled up short by the display on his mantel. His one picture of his parents on their wedding day stopped him. He pushed the feelings down and tried to move on but the mantel was filled with other memorabilia-- and pictures of the DeSotos.

School pictures, pictures of all five of them on outings, pictures of Roy and him working on their old fire engine. Each served to remind him of what was no more. He dropped his head onto the hand resting on the mantel. "Wakan Tanka, Unshimalam ye oyate – (wah kahn than kah Oon shee mah lahm ye oh yah tay)" His prayer seemed to echo not just from his mouth, but from the very depths of his soul. His hand brushed something and it fell onto his hand. He looked up and noticed it was the carved hummingbird his grandfather had made and given him.

He could still hear his grandmother's words. "Tanagila - (Tah nah gee lah). , You are like the hummingbirds in the garden, Johnny. Always flitting from here to there and so fast! I read once that they must eat great amounts of food just to keep up the energy to move their wings. If they stop, they will die." She would smile at him as she filled his plate. His grandfather had pretended to be gruff and scowled at him, but his next birthday, this piece was sitting at his place on the table. It was one of the few items that had survived from . . . before.

His eyes were being drawn back to the pictures. How big was the smile on Jenny's face as he leaned over her shoulder, helping her blow out the candles on her last birthday. He could almost feel how tightly Chris had hugged him after he'd helped him pull in that trout on their last fishing trip. There was the one where Marco had caught him throwing JoAnne into the ocean. She had pretended to be so angry with him until he let her dunk him. And Roy.

Everything he'd been through the last 72 hours rushed up on him causing him physical pain which he groaned with. With a shaking hand, he reached out and slowly turned each of those haunting pictures face down. The mantel held the story of his life and there was no getting away from it. For the most part, the last eight years of his life had been happy. Oh sure, he'd had some rough times during his academy days, all boots did. Then he'd had some trouble overcoming the prejudices of some of his co-workers his first year as a boot lineman but all in all the three years he was a rescue man and definitely the last three years he'd been a paramedic at 51s were times in which he'd laughed easily and smiled even quicker.

For that he'd always be grateful. However, he now realized having a taste of it only made him greedy for more and only made it hurt worse now that he was sure it was taken from him. But he'd live through it; he always did. As long as he kept telling himself this, he'd eventually be fine.

A glance at the clock showed it was still early evening but Johnny was now exhausted. He drug himself to his room, then decided he needed a hot shower first. Perhaps it would relieve the strange ache in his chest and the tightness of his shoulders.

Johnny stepped into the hot water, closing his eyes as he leaned against the wall. The water raced over his tired muscles, easing the tension in his shoulders but not in his chest. Suddenly a strangled sob pushed its way up from his aching chest and out his mouth. Another closely followed it but Johnny clamped down his jaw, refusing to allow any more to escape. Eyes still closed, he turned his face into the water, letting the stinging fluid beat on him so that even he couldn't tell what might have been tears and what was just the shower.

As the water turned colder, he finally moved, shutting the water off and toweling his body dry. Once back in his room, he checked to make sure his alarm was set, pulled on a pair of briefs and crawled into bed. He put his arm over his face and closed his eyes. To his relief, sleep claimed him quickly but was anything but restful. All night long he battled past and present fears. When the alarm finally penetrated yet another sequence, he pulled wearily himself from the bed with a sigh.

He looked at the sun sending rosy first rising glows through the window. He dressed and saw to the animals. He locked Tezi up, much to the puppy's remorse, changed his clothes and climbed into his car. As he drove, he allowed his mind to wander. Maybe Marco was right. Maybe all Roy needed was time. Well, Johnny could do that. He'd give Roy as much as he needed. Johnny refused to even allow himself to hope that things would return to the way they once were, but he could take even scrapes of what used to be. That decision made, he pulled into the station and his normal spot, noticing that other than Cap, no one else was in yet.