Well, here's another chapter! And The Kent's are as 'delightful' as ever! Thanks for all the wonderful feedback; it really is fuel for the fingers. As said, we are getting to within one—possible two, chapters and maybe an epilogue left. Enjoy!
Marc Kent hurried down the hallway, glancing at his watch as he rounded yet another corner. "That candy-striper better be right," he muttered darkly. "She said the lecture hall was down this way." Now he was on his way to his first remedial paramedic class, and to say he was aggravated was an understatement. He finally found the right door and snuck carefully into the lecture hall. He quickly found a seat in the semi dark half-full room and sat down, his eyes on the figure standing in the front of the room. After a brief lecture and slide presentation on practical skills, the lights came up and the instructor ordered, "Pair yourselves into groups and we'll go through intubations first."
"Hey! I'll pair with you, Johnny! Then I won't have to work as hard." A voice spoke up. Several others laughed at that. Marc looked over at them, seeing that each wore a paramedic patch already on their blue uniform shirt sleeves. 'Ahhh, recerts.'
"No one needs to be his partner, he could probably do all the dumbies in the room by himself before half of us even got started." More laughter.
A newer trainee whispered a little too loudly, "If he's that good, then why's he here?"
"Got banged up really bad on a call, I heard. Had to have a mess of surgeries and physical therapy." Someone leaned over to say, "He'll recert, no problem. This is just routine practice for him."
Curious in spite of himself, Marc strained his neck around trying to see the person in question. But there were too many people between him and this Johnny who apparently was somewhere up front. He felt a tug on his arm and turned to see a grinning face. "Hey Marc. Wanna buddy with me?"
Marc gave him a smile, vaguely recognizing the smiler as someone who had taken one of the written exams at the same time as he had. "Sure! Sounds good to me." The two found a mannequin and the needed instruments and settled down. Kent didn't find the process difficult. After all, you could force a little harder since it was just plastic not flesh. He was on his third time when the instructor's voice behind him startled him, "Ease up a little. You don't want to tear the lining. And put some more gel on it, you'll find it slides better."
He gritted his teeth but smiled congenially at the man who he noticed had to be only in his early twenties. "Ok. How's that?"
The instructor nodded, "Better. I think you can go on to the next work station." Marc did so without further comment. Soon the class was over and he stretched tiredly.
"Well, three down, 17 more to go!" His current partner grinned. He patted Marc on the shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow then?"
Marc nodded, "Sure, sure. Sounds good." And left the hall.
Since that was the end of his training for the day, and not wanting to hang around with any of the other men gathering in groups, Marc left. The next morning found him once more hurrying down the same corridor. This time when he opened the door into the lecture hall, it found it again slightly darkened but not as full. He quickly looked around when a hissing sound caught his attention. He followed it to see the same guy he'd partnered the day before. The smiler motioning toward him and the empty chair next to him. Not wanting to attraction attention, Marc quickly sat in the offered chair.
At the lit podium stood a dark haired man with a slender build in a paramedic uniform. He shuffled through a stack of papers while another man busied himself with a projector. The instructor looked up and grinned at the grumbling man, "Ya got it working yet, Huffman?"
"I'll get it, I'll get it." The man grumbled as he fiddled with a filmstrip.
"Before we have to recert?" Came a voice from across the room. Chuckles followed. "Yeah, ya know they require that every five years." Came another voice. More laughter.
The instructor grinned and shook his head. "Awight, settle down. We can go ahead and start while Huffman finishes. For those of you that don't know it, my name is John Gage and I'll be your paramedic instructor this morning. The lecture today is Scene Assessment. I've started around a sign up sheet as well as some handouts on this class for each of you. Please make sure you are all signed in or you won't get credit."
Marc had been busy reading over the sheets handed him and not listening to the instructor. After all, instructors were boring wannabes who never made it to the field. He was a working paramedic and all this was just a formality. He sighed heavily, 'Guess I'll jump through the hoops if it'll make Brackett happy and gets Tammy off my back."
Cheering brought his attention back to the front of the room and he noticed that the previously blank screen now flashed letters. "Awright! Now, what you're about to see is a short film of a squad's arrival to an actual scene. The call was for a injured child, nothing else mentioned. In the time that this is running I want you all to watch very carefully and then we'll stop the film and see how well you really observed the scene." With that the instructor sat on a chair beside the podium and the room got quiet. Marc squinted at the notes again, trying to read them in the dimmed lights. Suddenly the sound of the projector stopped and the lights came up slightly. The instructor was again standing behind the podium.
"OK. Now. I want all of you to write down everything you can remember from the clip we just watched. Take your time and really think about what you saw, as well as what you didn't see. I'll give you all five minutes then we'll have discussion."
Marc doodled on the paper, wondering what Tammy would have for supper that night as well as what they were going to do that weekend. After all, he didn't need to watch a scene…. That was the EMT's job, and the firemen accompanying them or the cops there. His responsibility was for the victim and that alone. Soon the instructor called out, "OK time." As he looked around at the faces watching him, a crooked grin on his face. "Now. Before you begin I want to assure you that nobody will have everything, unless you have a photographic memory like one of . . . ummmm . .. "
"Awww, hell Johnny! Just go 'head and say his name! We all know who you mean!" Came a voice from the back. Laughter filled the hall and the instructor's grin grew. He shook his dark head, "Nope. Not gonna say it. I'll just say that even the best can miss something. The point of this exercise is to learn to look at everything as quickly as you can and record it, catalog it and move on."
Marc could see several of the more experienced paramedics nodding at that. The instructor looked at his paper then began, "OK. I'm hoping all of you got the car sitting on its roof?" He grinned broadly as chuckles came. He nodded, "Good. How about the truck on the sidewalk?" More noises of agreement. "The ball in the street?" This time there was puzzlement and he nodded, "What could be significant about a ball in the street?"
"I didn't see kids around." Someone said. The instructor nodded, "Exactly. Where you see children's toys, you expect to see children. Tell me what other things you saw then I'll tell you some more."
"Was one of those light poles moving?" Came from the smiler and Marc looked at him in surprise. The dark haired man nodded, "Good eye. Yes. It was just starting to sway."
"Umm, I'm not sure if this counts or not but it looked like I saw lightening . ..?" That timid voice came from someone in the middle. Again the instructor nodded, "Good. I'll explain about that in a minute too. Anything else?"
"Hey John? Was there a bicycle near the side of that truck? I thought I saw handle bars." That came from one of the older paramedics grouped together.
The instructor smiled, "Very good. Yes." He took a deep breath then began. "The call was for a injured child. But upon arriving on scene the paramedic unit found what looked to be a MVA involving a sedan and a truck. Later inspection revealed the truck had clipped the light pole and then continued on up onto the sidewalk where it struck two kids on their bikes. They were heading home after playing in a nearby park. The lightening you thought you saw was the power line beginning to snap. The pole crashed down on the sedan, setting it on fire."
Silence filled the hall for several long moments, then someone asked, "John? What about the victims?"
"Both occupants of the sedan died before extricated. One paramedic was injured when the pole went down; he was trying to get the passenger out of the sedan. The victim driving the truck was drunk and survived." Johnny's face grew serious and those closest to him noticed his jaw twitched. Then he added, "The fire crew found the kids when they hooked the truck up to move it. One of the kids also survived but is paralyzed. The other bled out." He shook his head. "The caller had been a neighbor who witnessed only the kids being hit. And yes, if she had given more detail it might have made a difference. However, you must remember most times the caller is panicked. So the information you get might be anywhere from complete accurate to completely false. The responsibility for the scene is ours because they're not the ones trained for this; we are." He let his gaze go around the room. "It's up to the first on scene to make as correct an assessment as possible and to call in any additional units as needed. The paramedic here didn't; he rushed straight to the sedan. It was over seven minutes before a second call was made for assistance and LA rolled a engine and another squad." Silence again permeated the room as those there thought about that.
"John? Did you respond on that?"
The instructor shook his head, "Not our area. Actually this came from St. Francis's files but it could just as easily been one of several from our responses." Marc noticed the instructor took a deep breath, blew it out then nodded toward the man still sitting near the projector. The film began to roll again. "Another thing you have to watch is the silent injuries. We'll be seeing some examples of that later." Soon more scenes of responses came up and each one was discussed in the same manner.
One scene came up and Marc immediately turned away, fighting his stomach. When he looked back toward the front, he found the instructor's gaze fixed firmly on him. He blinked. "Are you OK, Kent?" the dark haired man asked softly.
Marc swallowed hard and forced a grin, "Sure. I'm fine. Why'd you ask?" He bluffed past his upset stomach and racing pulse. Those dark eyes bore into his, still watching him. Marc shifted in his seat, slouched back and tried to look nonchalant. What was with this guy? Why the visual third degree? He'd just been . .. surprised, that's all. All that . . .blood . . . and the scene was in full color . . .
Finally the instructor nodded as if to himself and turned to scan the class again. "OK. That last one. How many victims did you see?"
Startled comments started, "Victims?"
"There was more than the woman?"
"Yes. There were three victims there. Don't let yourself be distracted by the sight of a lot of blood or even a graphic injury. They might not be the worse hurt. As it was, the woman did have a bad laceration on her face and a concussion. But the guy next to her had a perforated chest and was gasping. The woman behind her had massive spinal injuries and a blocked airway. If you'd taken time to do more than a quick bandage on the first woman's wounds, the second woman would be dead. Remember. More than one victim per rescuer; triage. And if, for any reason you can't handle it, call in someone else." Again it felt like those dark eyes pierced Marc.
After that unsettling incident, Marc busied himself by faking taking notes and blocked everything else out. When the sound of chairs scraping the floor brought him back around he looked up slightly puzzled. Beside him, the smiler sighed as he ran a hand through his hair, "Wow. I heard from the other guys that his class was intense but . . .man!" He grinned at Marc. "I'm not sure I wanna eat lunch now after some of those scenes."
Marc made a non committal sound as he followed the others out. He made his way through the line, selected and paid for his lunch then found a place at a table with a group of guys from the morning's class. He made a few required comments then dismissed the others as he ate his lunch. While there he watched as Dr. Brackett came into the cafeteria, headed through the line and made his way to the cashier. Once paid, the doctor looked around for an empty spot in the unusually crowded area. 'Probably sit with another doctor,' Marc mused, 'Those bigwigs always hang together.' He saw the doctor looking around frowning then suddenly he gave a faint smile and headed toward a single person at a table. They were close enough Marc could hear and see what transpired. The person wore fire department blue with a paramedic patch on the sleeve. "Mind company for lunch, Johnny?" The doctor asked even as he placed his tray on the table. The paramedic looked up and Marc was amazed to realize it was his instructor from the class he'd just left!
The man grinned broadly and motioned toward the seat opposite him, "Hey Doc!" He greeted, "Be my guest!" Brackett sat and the two moved closer to the table, their voices dropping as they talked between bites of their dinners.
Marc sat back in astonishment as he mulled this over. Bracket. Dr. Kelly Brackett, head of the entire Emergency Department for Rampart Hospital and boss over the paramedic program stationed there….eating lunch with a common paramedic. 'Must be someone pretty exceptional to rate Brackett as a lunchtime companion.' He rethought the status of this fellow, 'Might be worth getting him on my side as well. After all, it's obvious Brackett thinks well of him.' He watched as the paramedic said something which caused the oft stoic doctor to chortle.
"Well, we best get back." Someone from Marc's table announced. Marc looked at his watch, noting the time. Beside them the paramedic was also rising but Brackett stopped him. Marc could hear the doctor tell him, "Good luck."
The paramedic laughed, "I might need it. The next class is with Hancock and you know how boring he is." He shrugged, "On the other hand, I could always use the sleep." Brackett laughed even as he shook his head. "Maybe making you an instructor was a bad idea. The last thing I need in my ER is you corrupting a new batch of EMT-B's and Ps!" Now the instructor laughed and left. Brackett watched him go, still chortling quietly and shaking his head before he turned back to finish his meal.
Marc took care of his tray then filed with the others back into the hall. Another instructor, this one a burly wizened man took the podium. He waited until they all found their seats again before spouting the same warnings about the sign in sheet then paused, looking around the room.
"Gentlemen and ladies, I'm Darrick Hancock. I'm sure most of you would rather be anywhere else than here."
Laughter and agreement greeted him. He smiled and nodded, "Good! So let's get the basics done, work a little on field stuff and get outta here."
Cheers greeted this and he began. He'd gone over three techniques when suddenly he paused. It was this break in the drone of voices that caught Marc's attention and he looked around, worried he had missed something important. When he realized that the instructor was only teasing some of the recerting paramedics, he promptly dismissed it all and sank back into his own thoughts.
"Why am I even up here?" Darrick complained good naturedly. He pointed to the instructor from the previous class who was relaxed in his chair, a pencil flipping around and around his long slender fingers. Occasional the dark haired man'd switch the pencil to the other hand, a lazy grin on his face the whole time. "Gage, get your skinny ass up here. It's your blasted technique anyway."
More laughing came as Johnny shook his head, "no. no. That's ahwright. You.. ..you're doing fine, you .. ." He made a hand flip and stifled a fake yawn before saying condescendingly, "Carry on, my good man, carry on."
The class cracked up. Darrick shook his pen at the younger man who grinned back lop-sidedly. "Alright youngster. Just for that, you get to demonstrate first."
More laughter and Johnny drug himself from his chair, grumbling but those closest to him could see his dark eyes shining. He preformed the demonstrated techniques, perfectly and quickly, then went on to do the others not yet shown just as fast. More laughter sounded as he stood up and faced Darrick. "There. Happy?"
Darrick's mouth twitched as he tried to keep a straight face, "Ecstatic." He deadpanned.
"Am I done here?" Johnny grumbled, but then the corners of his mouth twitched as well. Others around him tittered while some shifted uncomfortably, not sure it was all in fun anymore.
Darrick's eyes narrowed as he glared at the younger man. He gave a slow nod. "Oh yeah. You're done here. Get out of my class, you . . . you disruption!"
Johnny blinked at him, a wounded look on his face as he splayed his hand over his chest. "A disruption? Me?"
"Yes!" The other man shouted. "You!" He pointed toward the door. "Out!"
Johnny slowly gathered up his papers and notebook, looking over his shoulder the whole time at the glowering man, the expression on his face one of hurt. He sighed heavily and walked by, head down, feet dragging. As he passed the other instructor, Darrick reached out, grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. He grabbed the now startled paramedic's hand and began pumping it as a huge grin split his face, "Congratulations Gage. I saw Brackett before lunch. You've passed everything. Mine was the last class."
Johnny stood in stunned silence. He had been enjoying funning with his friend and knew they were only playing but this . . . this was unexpected. "I passed?" He squeaked.
Darrick's grin broadened as he nodded, "Yes. Brackett said to give this to you." He shoved an envelope into the blinking man's hand. Others crowded around him, eager to see.
"What's it say Johnny?" They begged as the dark haired man set aside his notebook, pulled the paper from the envelope and read.
Johnny's face broke into a huge grin then he threw back his head and gave voice to a shout. "I passed! I start back on shift in two days! In two days!. Man, I tell you! I can't wait! It feels like it's been forever since I sat in the squad."
Immediately hands pounded his back and shook his hand as Johnny stared with blurring eyes at the official paper in his hand. Finally Darrick bellowed, "Out! Stop disrupting my class, Gage!"
Still laughing Johnny rushed from the room. Marc looked up from his seat wondering about all the excitement. He shrugged and went back to his notes.
Once everyone had finished and the instructor had passed them all he announced, "Alright folks. That's it for today. Next door they've set up for skills practice so nows the time to get in some extra time before the skills test. Good afternoon and good luck." He looked over the class, his eyes suddenly serious. "Some of you will need it more than others."
Marc filed out of the room with the others and found himself in the other room. He knew he didn't need any work in any of these areas. After all, only the first certs and the EMT-Bs really needed this stuff. Experienced field paramedics like him didn't need to practice what they already knew. Laughter from one station caught his attention and he drifted that way. He grinned as he realized his instructor from the scene assessment class was laying on the floor. His smile dimmed as he got his first good look at the man's features; dark hair and eyes, high cheekbones, deeply tanned copper skin. 'Great. Another Department sponsored Reservation charity case.'
The paramedic in charge of the station was joking, "Hey everyone. Pay attention. You might be practicing this today but chances are you'll be strapping Gage down for real some time."
"Ha-ha, Dwyer. You're so not funny." The 'victim' grumbled. Thom Dwyer patted his patient's cheek. "Be a good lil' victim, Gage, and just groan."
As others chuckled, Johnny allowed his eyes to flutter and gave a very authentic groan. So much so, that Marc felt a chill chase down his back and he found himself backing further away. 'Gage? Had he said Gage?' He shook his head, 'Must have misheard. Probably Cage or Page or something.' He nodded, 'Yeah, that's it. Bet his first name's Gage. Heard people were startin' to name their kids weird names, like using last names for first names. And Lord knows Indian names are strange. Yeah, bet that's it.'
He watched as Dwyer demonstrated how to properly log roll a person, keeping the spine straight, how to check the back for injuries or deformities, how to assess the pulses, strap them in, reassess pulses and then lift the backboard onto a gurney. Occasional comments were made from the 'victim' to which Dwyer finally said, "Hush. How many times do I have to tell you when you're on this board that you're the victim and I'm the paramedic!" Again the group laughed. Once Dwyer released his 'victim', he turned to the crowd around them, "OK! Who wants to tie Gage up next?"
"My turn!" A large man stepped forward grinning. The 'victim' rolled his eyes, "You've already strapped me down, Anderson. I want someone new." He grumbled. More laughter filtered around. "How about letting me do it?" Came a soft voice.
The familiarity of it caught Marc's attention and he moved a little closer again. The 'victim' looked up, his face nearly splitting in a grin. "Roy! What are you doing here?"
Roy DeSoto looked at his partner lying on the floor, a cervical collar still strapped around his neck and felt a shiver run down his spine at the sight. He took a deep breath, held it and gently forced it out as he gave a nonchalant shrug. "Oh, had some people I needed to see and thought I'd check out the new crop." He tried to cover his momentary unease with a joke but he could see in his partner's dark eyes that Johnny had seen and understood.
"You sure you want to tie him up? Not bored with that yet?" Dwyer teased.
Roy laughed, "Are you kidding? You've worked with him. It's the only time I can get a word in edgewise!"
"Roooyyy!" Johnny whined. Roy patted him on the head soothingly, "Hush Junior. Be a nice quiet victim for the class." Soon the practice paramedic was once more strapped to the backboard. As Dwyer and Roy lifted the quietly muttering man, Roy looked up at Dwyer, caught his eye and winked. Dwyer grinned slowly and evilly. Just as the two had Johnny over the gurney, Roy suddenly shouted, "Flip him! He's gagging!" And the two did just that as Johnny inhaled suddenly with a squeaked gasp of "ROY!"
Amidst the now uproars of laughter, they righted the still sputtering man and placed him on the gurney. "Not funny, partner. Not funny at all." Johnny growled, his eyes narrowed. Roy, still chuckling, ignored him and turned to the class, "You might have to do that in the field someday. If you've strapped the patient in right, they won't move at all on the board."
"Ahwright. You've had your fun, now release me." Johnny fussed. Dwyer, still laughing, set him free.
Roy had moved across the room and was talking to another paramedic. "Sure Roy. I'm off. Thanks for inviting me!" The boyished faced man chortled. "You said the last Saturday, right?"
Roy nodded, "Yeah. Remember, Johnny doesn't know so keep it quiet, Billy."
Billy Hanks nodded as he grinned, "You got it." Then he looked past him, and said, "Heads up." before walking away.
Roy turned as Johnny walked up to him, rubbing his arms and hands. "That wasn't funny, Roy. Not one bit." He grumbled.
Roy grinned as he crossed his arms, "Oh. I don't know. It was pretty funny from where I was." Then he noticed Johnny's hand motions and paused, the amusement sliding from his face. "Are you alright? What's happening here?"
"Hmm? Oh. Just a little sore." He flexed his hands. "Some of the straps were pushing pretty hard when you flipped me." Johnny suddenly stopped the motion and put his hands on his hips as he watched the worry fill his partner's blue eyes. He sighed. "Roy. It's fine. No damage. The scars are just still a little . . . sensitive."
Roy's gaze searched his face. "You sure?"
Johnny grinned, "I'm sure. Now. I'm finished here. And I'm hungry."
Roy smiled, "You're always hungry, Gage." He looked his friend over. He knew Johnny had nearly gained back all of the previously lost weight but he still couldn't get the sight of his friend's emaciated body out of his mind's eye.
Johnny shrugged. "What can I say? I'm a growing boy!" His grin broadened, "Besides, I've got something to show you."
"Yeah?"
` Johnny grinned as he fingered the envelope in his pocket, "Yeah. C'mon. I'm famished."
The two wove their way through the crowded room and left, never noticing Marc trying to make his way closer to Roy.
Marc watched his goal disappear out the door with the slender Indian by his side. He shook his head sadly, 'Aw Roy. Not again. Didn't you learn from that first kid? I guess I'll just have to try harder to convince you that those Reservation rejects are only a waste of your good intentions.'
Over the next days, Marc attended the required classes Brackett had outlined. And he completed each to the instructor's satisfaction, although each warned him about his lack of enthusiasm. He brushed it off. It didn't matter in class of course. All that was just hoops to jump through so that Brackett would allow him back to be Roy's partner. By Friday he only had three more classes to go and the skill practical. He had just had Dr. Early sign a needed slot when he heard the unmistakable sound of an ambulance approach the emergency doors.
Curious, he parked himself to one side to watch. Soon the double doors swung open and a gurney appeared with two paramedics close by; one by the head holding an IV bag high, the other with a bloody hand clamped tight to the patient's upper arm. A nurse stepped forward and waved toward a treatment room saying, "In Three." The attendant nodded and swung the end of the gurney.
Marc followed, watching as they carefully but quickly moved the limp form to the exam table. A nurse took the handful of vials the dark haired paramedic handed her and quickly headed off. A doctor brushed by him but the door stuck open, giving Marc an uninhibited view. "Changes?" Brackett barked out as he pulled out his light and checked the patient's pupils.
"BP is the same, pulse is still weak and thready, respirations are . . . hold it . .. respiratory arrest!" That came from the dark haired paramedic who had hung the IV on the stand and was now checking vitals.
"Bag 'er." Brackett snapped even as the paramedic grabbed an BVM and began assisting respirations.
"How's that bleeding, Roy?" Brackett asked as he peered around the hand clamped down.
Roy shook his head, "I've got the artery clamped down but it's still bleeding."
"Hmmm, so I see. Nurse! Clamp!" a clamp was handed to him and he began clamping as fast as clamps were added to his hand. Even as he did he continued to bark orders for tests. "Someone see what the hold up is on that plasma!"
"Right here doctor." A nurse answered even as she hung the bag and set up a line. Roy had backed away until Brackett said, "Roy get me another set of vitals, Michelle get a setup for intubation. Has OR been notified? A vascular team ready?"
"Already on standby, Doctor. OR 4 is prepped."
Roy read off the new set of vitals even as Brackett cleaned his hands and moved to the patient's head. "Stop ventilations; I'm gonna intubate."
The dark haired man who Marc was surprised to see was the guy he'd heard called 'Gage' while in the practice area stopped the forced respirations and switched the lever on the table which dropped the patient's head and extended the neck. He backed away as Brackett intubated the patient, then he stepped back forward to tape everything in place while Brackett adjusted the machine.
Roy had a stethoscope on the chest and now nodded, "Good breath sounds all fields." He told the doctor.
A pressure on Marc's arm took his attention away from the drama in the room and he turned his head to see the head nurse looking at him. "Kent, come out of there." She said firmly even as she pulled the door shut.
"I . . I just saw Roy and . . ." He let his voice drop off, not really sure what to say. She looked at him with piercing blue eyes for a long moment then said, "Well, he's a little busy right now. Why don't you wait for him in the doctor's lounge?"
Marc hesitated then gave a nod. The nurse quickly hurried off after seeing him heading for the lounge. But Marc stopped and moved back further down the hall. He didn't really want to talk to Roy while that . . .Indian . . was there. He paused, wondering about that. 'That's that . . .Gage . . . must be in his training phase. Well, DeSoto is a good trainer but I sure hope he doesn't allow this one to take advantage of his kind nature like that other one did.' He shook his head at that thought. 'Because I won't be there to help him out this time.'
From his vantage point he could see the two finally come out of the treatment room. As one they headed for the coffee pot behind the head nurse's desk. She greeted them with a slightly harried smile as the Indian poured a cup, handed it to Roy, poured another for himself then raised both the pot and his eyebrow to the nurse. She nodded her head and he filled her cup, then replaced the pot and leaned back against the cabinet, crossing his ankles.
"How's she?"
"Brackett said it looks good. They have to do surgery though." Roy answered as he fiddled with the HT.
"That's good." She marked on a chart then looked at the now grinning face that leaned over her station. She tried to look sternly at him but the twinkle in his brown eyes made such a warmth in her heart it was difficult. So she raised an eyebrow at him and wiggled the chart he leaned on. He pulled back to release it then sipped his coffee before breaking out in a big grin, "Hey there Dix! Ya miss me?"
"Like I'd miss a plague." She muttered as she flipped open the chart. The dark haired paramedic moved closer again, putting on a pouty face. "Awww but Dixie! It's been forever since I was here."
Again she raised an eyebrow. "Really? I could've sworn you were just here harassing me and my nurses two days ago."
He sighed, and looked up at her with sad eyes, his head slightly tilted, "You really think I'd harass you?"
Her heart melted even as her shoulders slumped. She knew that as long as they were there she'd get no more charting done but she didn't really mind. So she gave an exaggerated sigh, even as inside she was flipping cartwheels to see him looking hale and hardy, leaning over her desk, drinking her coffee and teasing her, all things it seemed that just a handful of weeks ago she thought he'd never do again.
She smiled at him and that lop-sided grin became even wider. She tried to renew her faked irritation by looking over at his partner who leaned casually against the wall, sipping his coffee and watching with smiling eyes.
"Roy, can't you control your partner?" She flipped a hand at Johnny who splayed a hand on his chest as he straightened up, trying to look both hurt and innocent. She had to stifle a laugh at the act.
Roy looked at the tall man beside him, an indulgent smile on his face, "Nope." He replied. "I just washed him this morning and I can't do a thing with 'em." He parodied a popular commercial. Dixie sputtered as they looked at each other, twin smirks on their faces.
"Ahhh come on Dix." Johnny chided, "You know you love me." She clenched her fists and Roy grabbed his elbow, leading him away, "Come along Birthday boy," he urged, his voice barely containing his humor, "Play time is over. Time to get back to work." As he walked away, Johnny suddenly turned and called out. "Hey Dixie!" She looked at him and he blew her a kiss, then laughed as she hollered, "Get out of my ER you. . .you . . .hose jockeys!"
Laughter echoed from the two as they left. Suddenly Dixie marched quickly after them, calling out in her best head nurse voice. "Hold it right there one second, hoseboy!"
Roy and Johnny froze then carefully turned around. Dixie walked right up to Johnny, her eyes snapping with anger. She could see the surprise in his brown eyes replaced by uncertainty as she stopped in front of him, her hands on her hips.
By his partner's side, Roy shifted nervously, his gaze going from his friend to what looked like a very PO'd nurse. "Uhhh, Dix, he didn't . .. " He started but Dixie held up a palm to his face, her gaze never leaving Johnny's. Johnny blinked then opened his mouth but before he could say anything, Dixie moved.
With the speed of a snake, she grabbed the sides of his face with her hands, then stepped forward to place a kiss on his lips. She heard him grunt in muffled surprise as she then pulled him tightly into a hug, whispering in his ear. "Happy Birthday Phoenix."
As quickly as she moved forward, she pulled back, slapping him lightly on the arm as she looked over into the wide blue eyes watching her, "Now. Go feed him. I could hear his stomach from clear over at my desk." Roy grinned and grabbed his blinking partner's elbow, leading him away as a stunned Johnny put his hand to his face. Dixie watched them go until they disappeared around the corner. Then the smile she'd been holding back burst free.
"What was that all about?" Asked a voice from beside her. She turned and smiled brightly at Joe Early. "That was the dynamic duo back on the streets again." She happily said.
Joe smiled, "So I saw. It's great to see him back in his blues and beside Roy."
She nodded as she pulled out her unfinished chart again. "Yes. It certainly is."
Marc had seen the disrespectful action of the Indian paramedic and saw the head nurse confront him, apparently slapping his face and reprimanding him from the stunned look on his face. He nodded to himself then moved forward to confront the two paramedics as they neared where he was leaning. "Hey Roy! Have you got a minute?"
Roy paused and looked at the slim man beside him. Dark eyes locked onto Marc and he again felt a shiver at their piercing stare. Then the man spoke, "We missed lunch and I'm famished. I'll be in the cafeteria." He nodded and added, "Kent." then walked off.
Roy watched him go before turning back to Marc and Marc saw a look of irritation flash in his blue eyes before he smiled pleasantly. "What do you want Marc?"
Marc gave a knowing smile, 'Ahh, he's bugging you already. Don't worry buddy, I'll soon be back with you.' Outloud he said, "Well I was wondering when we could get back together. I've got a couple questions on some things."
Roy shifted his weight, his glance again going to where Johnny had disappeared. "So, another one you have to monitor huh." Marc said in a knowing voice. That got Roy's attention and he looked back, confused at the comment. "What? Oh,uhh. You want help. hmmmm, Well, as you can tell I'm on shift right now." He hesitated.
"How about this weekend?" Marc pushed.
Roy frowned, thinking outloud as he said, "Well, there's the party on Saturday but the rest . . . yeah. I guess. Listen why don't you just give a call first ok?" He slapped Marc's shoulder then headed off.
Pleased at his observations, Marc headed the opposite direction. He thought about what he'd seen in the treatment room as well as with the nurse and Roy. 'Well, this reservation reject's as good in the field as he was in the skills practice' he mused, then chuckled, 'But the staff here and Roy are already sick of him. It won't take much to get back in at 51's.' With that happy thought he left Rampart.
When Roy entered the cafeteria he looked around and soon spotted Johnny already paying for his lunch. He looked up, caught Roy's eye and nodded toward a table. Roy nodded back and got into the line to get his own meal. As he was watching the attendant place a large serving spoon full of stroganoff on his plate, the back doors into the kitchen opened and a woman came out with a fresh tray full of food. She looked up at Roy and her face broke into a smile. "Hello Roy! I haven't seen you around here for a while."
He smiled back, "Hi May. Yeah, I'm back at work now and since Johnny was released . . ." He shrugged.
She nodded, "I'm glad to see you're all healed." She looked around then back at him. "So. How is your friend doing?" Her voice was soft as she asked as if afraid to hear the answer.
But the look of unadulterated joy on the other man's cheery face made her relax. "He's doing great! In fact today is his first day back in the squad with me!"
She smiled happily, "Oh, Roy. I'm so glad to hear that!" 'More than you'll ever know.' She thought. "I know you were so worried."
Roy nodded, "Yeah. He had a lot of people worried. But that's all over now." He looked over at his partner sitting waiting and grinned back at the dietitian. "Hey, he's over there waiting for me, why don't you come on over and say hi? I told him about you and he wanted to thank you for the extra food while he was here."
She hesitated, "I don't know. I'm kinda busy right now; I've got some stuff in the ovens." She followed as Roy completed his selection and handed the cashier the money.
"I understand. Well. If you get a chance, come on over. I gotta go. We . .. we could get toned out at any time." He apologized. She waved at him. "Go. Go. I understand."
Roy waved good bye and quickly joined his partner. Johnny looked up while drinking the last of his first milk. "What took you so long?"
"I . ..uhhh, I was talking to May. You know, the dietitian I told you I met while you were still in SICU."
Now Johnny perked up, "The one who sent me those extra trays. Where is she? I'd like to meet her. Roy, that was the best beans and pork I've had in years, the only thing better was my grandmother's beans and venison. And her flatbread . . ."
Roy smiled, "Down junior. I think she's a little old for you."
He laughed at the indignant look Johnny threw him as he opened his second milk. "Not every female I met do I want to date, Roy." He scowled, "Geeze, you think I'm that shallow?"
Before Roy could answer he was distracted when a small delicate hand placed a generous piece of cherry pie with a lit candle in it in front of Johnny. Johnny stared at it for a second then looked up into a pair of world worn amber eyes. "How . . .how did you know it was my birthday?"
May looked down into those chocolate brown eyes and panicked. As badly as she wanted to see him up close—healthy, walking and talking, she was terrified of this. She opened her mouth but all that came out was small stammers as those beautiful eyes blinked up at her. She held her hand down to keep it from stroking his face.
"Oh, that's my fault, junior." Roy broke in. Johnny turned from those amber eyes to raise an eyebrow at his partner. Roy shrugged, "It's probably not for your birthday. See I told May that today was your first day back at work."
May breathed a sigh of relief as she nodded and jumped on the excuse. "Yes, I just thought that was something to celebrate." She smiled brightly at him and saw him return it. "Well, ahwright! Thanks!" He took his fork and quickly plopped a bite of pie into his mouth. He closed his eyes in appreciation. "ummmmmmm."
"You're welcome." She told him as she placed another piece in front of Roy then added two more milks.
Roy grinned at her. "Johnny if you can stop stuffing your face for a second, I'll introduce you. May, this is my partner-John Gage. Johnny this is May Applegate."
Johnny took a swig of milk to empty his mouth and extended his hand. May took it, trying hard not to stare at the still raised red scars on it. "It's a pleasure to meet you, May. And I want to compliment your cooking. Your food kept me from starving while I was incarcerated here." He joked.
May smiled, not letting her emotions show on her face. She was real good at doing that. Covertly she was looking him carefully over, seeing he was healed and there was a healthy glow to his once more tanned skin. She shivered involuntarily as she remembered the pale, skin and bones creature she'd first seen in SICU. "I'm glad to meet you and I'm glad you liked it. I try to serve nutritious meals that have some flavor as well but when the doctors order a certain diet . . .well?" She shrugged and he laughed. She let the sound of it ring through her, then colored with embarrassment as he tugged gently on the hand she still held.
She reluctantly let his hand go and stood there just staring at him until she saw the puzzled look come to his eyes. "Well. I'm glad you're back a work. Maybe I'll see you two in here again sometime. I gotta go. Nice to meet you, Johnny. Roy." And she left.
Johnny watched her go, the expression on his face unreadable. Then he turned his attention back to the pie. Roy had finished his meal and was gulping his pie when he looked over and saw Johnny staring at the remaining two bites on his plate.
"Johnny? Don't you like it?"
"Huh?" Johnny looked up then smiled, "Yeah. Yeah I like it. In fact I love it. It's great. It's just . . ." He stopped, poking at a cherry.
"It's just . .. what?" Roy coaxed.
Johnny shrugged as he ate another bite. "It's just weird. I guess."
Now Roy was really confused, "Weird. Weird how?"
"Well, see. When I was little, after we had moved back to the reservation after my dad hurt his hand?"
Roy made a 'go on' motion with his hand, having no idea where his friend was going with this.
Johnny took a deep breath, let it out slowly then began. "My grandmother—that's my dad's mom—she had a real thing for fruit trees so my grandfather made her this mixed orchard." He stopped, chuckling over a memory. "Some of the tress died one hot summer and the surviving ones cross pollinated with each other. You should've seen it Roy. We had the weirdest mix of apples and pears. We called them perapples. They were red and sorta round like apples but had flesh that was soft and tasted like pears."
Roy grinned at that thought, and the look the happy memory put on his friend's face. Then he shook his head in confusion, "I don't get it. What does that have to do with pie?"
"Huh?" Johnny refocused on his partner. "Oh. Well. We also had this fantastic cherry tree. It was my favorite place. I'd climb up into it and stay for hours, just hanging around and eating cherries and spittin' the pits at people below." He hesitated as he added in a softer voice, ". . . until the day my aunt caught me." He grimaced and unconsciously rubbed his arm. At first this caused Roy to grin also, thinking of his partner as a mischievous young child, then he remembered some of Johnny's fever dreams had to do with him hiding from an feared aunt. The smile quickly left his face as he saw remembered fear reflected now in those dark eyes.
"Sounds like a great place for a kid." He said softly, hoping to re-anchor his friend and help him continue. It worked. Johnny shook his head slightly then looked up, grinning at him. "It was. Anyway, every year for my birthday, my mom would bake me a cherry pie and put a candle in it. Of course we had a cake too later on but when it was just the five of us at lunch on my birthday—grandmother, grandfather, mom, dad and me, we'd have cherry pie." He looked again at the last bit of pie before he picked it up and shoved it into his mouth.
Roy sat back in his seat. "Wow." He said quietly. "Yeah. I guess you're right. That is kinda weird."
Just then three beeps came from the HT asking, "Squad 51 what's your status?"
Roy stood up as Johnny quickly gulped down the last of his third milk. "Squad 51 available at Rampart."
"Squad 51, stand by for response." Came Sam's voice then came a string of tones. Johnny pulled out his pad and pen and quickly wrote down the address even as Roy acknowledged the call and the two raced off.
From the kitchen, a figure watched, tears in her amber eyes as she whispered, "Happy birthday, Tanagila. Please be safe."
We had those trees when I was younger—the perapples were the sweetest juiciest fruits you've ever eaten! Each one of us kids had a tree; mine was a peach tree accidentally mowed off the first year. I talked and argued and begged that tree to live. The spring after I got married it produced peaches the size of softballs. I have pictures! The cherry tree was actually at my grandparents and spitting pits at someone was how my parents met—she the spittie and him and his current date the targets.