EMERGENCY! 2.0
Season 1 Episode 3
"'Tis the Season"
Chet Kelly strolled out of Station 51's locker room wearing a red Santa hat and eating a cookie, humming Jingle Bells to himself.
He rounded the back of Engine 51 and danced in the space on the apparatus floor between the pumper and Squad 51.
Johnny Gage, who had been wiping down one of the rails on the squad, paused and tossed a towel over his shoulder.
"Hey, Roy, look!" he chuckled. "It's Santa's biggest elf!"
Chet opened the tin in his hands and offered it to him.
"Christmas tree cookie, Johnny?"
Johnny reached for one, then drew back his hand and arched an eyebrow.
"What's wrong with 'em?"
"Nothin's wrong with 'em!" Chet groused. "I'm just trying to spread some holiday cheer around this place!"
Roy DeSoto reached past his partner and took one of the cookies.
"I'll try one. Did you make these, Chet?"
"I did, indeed! Grandma Kelly's time honored recipe! Whattaya think, Roy?"
Johnny took a cookie from the tin and watched as Roy bit into his.
"It's uh...interesting," Roy said as he chewed. "What did you use to make that green icing?"
Chet shrugged.
"Well, I didn't have any green food coloring, so I used a little avocado. Pretty smart, huh?"
Roy stopped chewing.
"Yeah. Martha Stewart's got nothin' on you."
Johnny stared at his cookie.
"Avocado?" he said in bewilderment. "In a cookie?"
The dispatch tones sounded. He tossed the miniature Christmas tree back into the tin that Chet was holding.
"Engine and Squad 51, fall victim," the dispatcher called. "5241 Hammond Way, cross street Harbor, at the Hammond Plaza."
Marco Lopez and Sidney Park jogged out of the kitchen, followed by Captain Stanley, as Johnny and Roy climbed into the squad. Moments later, Roy guided Squad 51 out of the station, siren screaming, and turned right. Engine 51, a large wreath affixed to its grill with a red bow, followed.
Four minutes later, the six firefighters made their way through the front entrance of the mall with Captain Stanley leading the way.
Every store entrance seemed to be covered in red ribbons, twinkling lights and assorted likenesses of Santa Claus, while Michael Bublè's rendition of It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas played over the mall's sound system.
It was two days before Christmas and even though it wasn't yet noon, the mall had already begun to fill with crowds of last minute shoppers.
A security guard waved to the firefighters and directed them to an escalator.
"It's just outside the Macy's entrance," said the guard as they descended to the first floor. "Slipped on a candy wrapper. That's what she says, anyway. But you guys know how easy it is to fake a slip and fall these days. Everybody wants to sue."
"How old's the patient?" asked Captain Stanley.
"Ah, I don't know, about eighty, maybe?"
"You have a lot of senior citizens trying to bilk you guys out of millions of dollars?" asked Sidney as they stepped off of the escalator.
The guard shot her an annoyed look, then returned his attention to the crowd of shoppers before them.
"Everybody, clear the way, please!"
They pushed through the crowd to see an elderly woman laying on her back, a bag of gift wrapped presents spilled beside her with another security guard kneeling at her side.
"Hi there," Roy said politely as he set down his gear and knelt beside the woman. "My name's Roy. I understand you fell. Can you tell me what happened?"
"I…I stepped on this candy bar wrapper and my foot went out from under me," the woman said nervously. "I just feel like such a damned fool."
"Come on, now. It could've happened to anyone. Can you tell me your name?"
"Gladys. Gladys Hawkins. I'm eighty-two years old yesterday."
"Well, happy birthday, Gladys," Johnny smiled, opening the med box. "My name's Johnny. Do you know where you are?"
"The…the shopping mall. The big one on Hammond."
"Did you remember hitting your head at all?"
"No. I landed on my side."
"Can you tell me what day it is?"
"Saturday. Tomorrow's Christmas Eve. I'm taking the train up to Santa Barbara to have Christmas with my son and his family. Well...I was."
"Can you tell us where you hurt?" asked Roy.
She pointed to her left side.
"My left ankle and my hip. I'm…I'm going to end up in the hospital, aren't I?"
Roy cautiously wrapped the blood pressure cuff around her frail arm.
"Well, I'll be honest with you, it looks that way," he replied. "We'll know more once we get you to the hospital. They'll call your family for you and let them know where you are."
"Oh dear…" her lip quivered as she stared upwards. "This is going to ruin their Christmas. I'm such a damned fool."
Roy inflated the cuff.
"Come on, now. Accidents happen," he studied the gauge. "B.P.'s 120/75."
Captain Stanley nodded and tapped the information into the tablet in his hand.
Gladys dabbed at her eye.
"My son…I think he wants to put me in a rest home closer to where he and his family live. I thought that I could live fine on my own. I…I guess maybe I was wrong…"
Roy removed the blood pressure cuff and lightly placed a hand on her cheek.
"Don't talk like that. Let's just get you to the hospital and see what happens from there."
She patted his hand.
"Thank you, young man. You're very kind."
"Gladys, I'm gonna check to see if you're hurt anywhere," said Johnny. "I want you let me know if you're in any pain, okay?"
As he pressed his hands to her left hip, she winced in pain. He gave Roy a concerned look.
The paramedics knew that her hip could be broken, a condition which had a low recovery rate in elderly patients.
Gladys began to cry.
"My hip...it's broken isn't it? Oh dear..."
Roy held her hand.
"Well, we're not sure, but let's just take things one step at a time, okay?"
She nodded nervously and squeezed his hand.
XXXXXX
Fifteen minutes later, the patient had been transported to Rampart and handed over to Dr. Brackett and his team.
As Roy stood at the nurses station, filing out the ePCR on his tablet, Johnny strolled over, pulling on his navy blue jacket.
"How is she?" he asked, nodding towards the row of exam rooms.
"About the same as when we loaded her into the rig," said Roy. "She's embarrassed and worried more about ruining Christmas for her family."
"It's a shame," Johnny sighed quietly. "I just hope her family gets here soon. I'd hate for her to spend Christmas alone."
"Me too," said Roy. "Sweet lady like that slips on a piece of trash and now she'll probably end up in a rest home."
Dixie McCall stepped from the exam room with their backboard.
"Hi, Johnny," she handed him the hard plastic board before turning to his partner. "Roy, Mrs. Hawkins asked if you would come back and visit her later. I guess you made quite an impression on her."
Johnny leaned against the counter.
"It's that DeSoto charm. He's irresistible."
"Sure, I'll stop by if I can," Roy said. "How's your day been, Dix?"
She folded her arms and leaned against the counter as she flashed a weary smile.
"As good as can be expected. Considering I'm pulling a double shift because we're even more short-staffed than usual."
"Anything we can do?" asked Johnny.
"Put in a good word for me with Santa if you happen to see him on your travels today."
Roy smiled.
"Any special requests?"
"A shopping spree at Sephora would be nice, but I'll settle for a couple of days off."
The automatic doors slid open and two L.A. City firefighter/paramedics entered, wheeling a patient on a gurney.
"No rest for the wicked," Dixie sighed as she backed away from the nurses station. "See you boys later. Don't forget about Mrs. Hawkins, Roy."
Roy waved in acknowledgment.
"Squad 51, L.A.," their radios squawked. "Are you available for response?"
"Speaking of no rest for the wicked," Johnny said as they headed towards the exit.
XXXXXX
Siren wailing to an abrupt stop, Squad 51 pulled onto a dirt lot that was being used to sell Christmas trees.
John Henry Barnes, a burly African American sheriff's deputy with salt and pepper hair, nodded to the paramedics as they stepped from the squad.
"What've ya got?" Johnny asked, pulling the trauma box from one of the squad's compartments.
"Christmas tree fight," said Barnes in his smooth baritone, leading them between the trees. "Gotta love the holidays, huh?"
Barnes' rookie partner Rico Amonte stood behind a man who held a bloody handkerchief to his nose as he sat in a chair beside the cashier's table.
A few feet away, a middle aged man and woman sat quietly on a bench.
"So, Mr. Fuentes," Amonte sighed as he scratched his temple wearily. "You said you were reaching for the tree when..."
"I god punched," the man answered, still pinching his nose. "Wham! Ride in my node!"
Johnny placed the trauma box on the table.
"How ya doin', Sir? Why don't you let me take a look at that nose for you?" he said, carefully guiding the man's hand away from his face.
"Look, I'm really sorry," the other man said. "You…you can have the tree. Really."
"Edgar, don't give him our tree!" the woman scowled. "That's our tree! We saw it first! A six foot Douglas Fir still fresh this close to Christmas? No, we're taking it home with us."
"I saw it first! It's my tree!" the man with the bloodied nose shot back. "You tried to steal it from me when you punched me!"
"You really shouldn't have hit the man, Rita," the second man told his wife.
"Well you weren't gonna stand up to him!" the woman sneered.
The first man stood up quickly.
"You think is how Jesus would want you celebrating his birthday, you cow?"
"Trainee!" Barnes snapped at his partner.
"Sorry, Sir!" Amonte replied as he quickly stepped between the two parties.
"You called me a cow?" the woman shot back. "Come here and I'll…"
"All right, shut up!" Barnes barked. "My God, you're worse than children!"
"Sir, I need you to stay seated, so my partner can examine you," Roy said, guiding the man back to the metal folding chair.
"How's my nose?" the man asked Johnny.
Johnny gingerly pressed his fingertips to the bridge of the man's nose, eliciting a painful yelp.
Johnny pulled a cold pack from the trauma box. He squeezed the bag to activate it and shook it.
"Well, it might be broken," he said. "I want you to hold this cold pack to your nose, it'll help with the swelling. You're gonna need a doctor to check that out. Do you want to go to the hospital on your own, or do you want to go in an ambulance?"
"Which would look better in my lawsuit?"
Engine 58's siren wailed as it pulled to a stop in the street.
"Uh, we can't advise you about that," Roy said. "We already have an ambulance on the way if you-"
"Lawsuit?" the woman screamed as she leapt to her feet. "You're gonna sue me? You-"
"Sit down!" Barnes ordered. "This is over!"
He turned to the injured man.
"Are you gonna press charges for assault? Yes or no?"
"Please, man," the woman's husband pleaded sincerely. "Our kids are waiting for us at home. Tomorrow's Christmas Eve. Please don't put my wife in jail."
The injured man chewed his bottom lip as he switched his gaze between the other man and his wife.
The woman looked away.
"Will she apologize to me?"
"Apologize?" the woman glared. "Me?"
"It's up to you," said Amonte. "You could be chained to a bench at the station in a few minutes or you can apologize and go home to your kids right now."
"Sounds like a fair deal to me," Johnny said. "I'd take it."
The woman looked up at the man as a tear rolled down her cheek.
"I'm…I'm sorry, okay? I'm really sorry. Money's been tight lately and I've just been stressed out and I took it out on you. It was wrong. You can take the tree. I'm sorry. Really."
"There. Is that the end of this?" asked Barnes.
"Yeah. I…I guess so," the first man replied. "But you can go ahead and take the tree. I think my wife would be mad if I brought one that big back to our apartment, anyway."
"Do you want the ambulance?" asked Roy.
"No," he sighed as Engine 58's crew approached. "I can drive myself."
"What've we got?" asked the engine's captain.
"Punch in the nose, Cap," Roy replied. "He's goin' P.O.V. and nobody's pressin' charges. We're gonna be available on scene and you can cancel Mayfair."
"Okay, then. See ya at the next one, fellas. Merry Christmas," the captain said, keying the mic draped over his shoulder. "L.A., Engine 58, cancel the ambulance and show Engine 58 and Squad 51 available."
Roy pulled off his exam gloves.
"Like somethin' out of an O. Henry story, huh?"
Johnny closed the trauma box and snapped down the locks.
"Well, I don't believe in Christmas miracles," he chuckled. "but if I did, this would definitely qualify."
XXXXXX
Dr. Brackett stepped into the Emergency Department exam room where Gladys Hawkins laid nervously on the table.
"How are we feeling, Mrs. Hawkins?" he asked, offering a friendly smile.
"Please, call me Gladys," she replied, returning a smile that did little to belie her fear and uneasiness. "And I've definitely been better, but I'm not hurting much right now."
"That's good. It means the pain medication is doing its job. Well, we have the results of your X-rays. The good news is, your hip isn't broken."
"It's not?" she said, in astonishment. "So I can go home?"
"I'm afraid not," he folded his arms. "Your hip is dislocated, so we're going to have to admit you for at least a couple of days."
"Oh." her head dropped back and she stared at the ceiling. "I guess I'm spending Christmas in the hospital, then."
"I know it's not the answer that you wanted. The good news is, we'll get you all fixed up and ready for the new year."
She looked up at him.
"Did they get a hold of my son yet?"
"Not yet, I'm afraid," Brackett replied. "But I'll have them check again. There'll be someone in here soon to transfer you upstairs."
"Thank you, Doctor," she said, fighting back tears.
Dr. Brackett offered a friendly smile before he stepped into the hallway. He glanced up to see Sharon Walters, one of the younger RN's in the Emergency Department, heading towards him wearing felt reindeer antlers on her head.
"Good Morning, Sharon."
"Oh, good morning, Dr. Brackett!" the redheaded nurse beamed as she pulled a candy cane from her scrubs pocket and offered him one.
"Uh, no...no thanks," he replied politely. "Are you busy right now?"
"Actually, it's kind of slow right now. I just ran some samples down to the lab, but I'm free at the mo-"
"How's your...uh...pet?" he asked awkwardly as an idea formed in his head.
"You mean Princess? She's doing great, actually! I entered her in this cat show in Bellflower, and we took second place and-"
"That's great," he smiled. "You know who would love to hear all about that? Mrs. Hawkins right here in Exam 3. She's a little lonely and nervous and…"
She waved him off and pulled the iPhone from her pocket.
"Say no more, Doctor. I'll show her Princess's Instagram. She'll love it!"
Brackett smiled as he nodded.
"Thanks, Sharon."
Dr. Early, who had been watching from afar, caught Dr. Brackett's eye as Sharon happily skipped into the exam room.
"Smooth, Kel," he chuckled. "Real smooth."
XXXXXX
Johnny and Roy walked into the kitchen from the apparatus floor. Captain Stanley sat at the table, typing on a small laptop computer. Marco stood at the stove stirring a large pot.
"Somethin' smells good," Johnny said. "What are we having?"
"Pozole," Marco called over his shoulder, carefully tapping a bit of pepper into the pot. "And Christmas tamales, of course."
Johhny took a seat at the table.
"I thought you said we were having soup."
Marco gave him an annoyed look.
"Pozole is soup, John."
Chet and Sid, both with arms folded, stared at the artificial Christmas tree that had been erected in the corner of the day room, to the left of the television.
"What are we looking at?" Roy asked as he stepped over.
"It's missing something," Sid replied, rubbing her chin.
"But we don't know what," Chet added.
"The lights are distributed evenly," said Sid.
Chet nodded.
"Good spacing on the ornaments."
"There's nothing on top," Roy said. "Gotta have a tree topper. Like, an angel or something."
Chet snapped his fingers.
"I got it!"
Sid and Roy watched as he skipped out of the kitchen.
Johnny leaned back in his chair.
"What're you workin' on there, Cap?"
"I'm Christmas shopping," Captain Stanley replied, not looking up from his computer.
"Last minute gift, huh? Who's it for? A neighbor?"
"My wife, if you must know."
Marco looked back at him from the stove.
"Your wife? You haven't gotten her a present yet, Cap?"
"She's very hard to shop for."
Johnny hooked an arm over the backrest of his chair.
"I'd never wait until the last minute to get my wife's Christmas present. Gotta be first on the list."
Stanley looked at him.
"Did you get married recently, Gage?"
Johnny sat up straight.
"Oh no, Sir. I just meant-"
"Then whattaya say you reserve your judgment, huh?"
"You need gift ideas, Cap?" asked Roy as he stepped closer.
"Can't go wrong with jewelry," Sid offered. "Maybe a nice necklace."
Marco turned around and tossed a towel over his shoulder.
"How about a blender?"
"A blender?" Johnny scoffed. "Marco, no wonder you're still single."
"Me?", Marco tapped his own chest. "You're the one who got that girl you were seeing an Olive Garden gift certificate for her birthday!"
Johnny threw his hands up.
"Who doesn't like Olive Garden?!"
Chet entered.
"One angel tree topper, comin' up!"
Everyone watched as he placed a baseball card in a protective plastic cover at the top of the tree, settling it between two branches.
Roy stepped closer to inspect the card.
"Is that a Mike Trout card?"
"Right!" Chet grinned, tapping his temple, indicating his mental acuity.
"Aw, Chet," Marco shook his head and returned his attention to cooking.
"What?" Chet called. "He's an Angel, isn't he?"
The tones sounded.
"Engine and Squad 51, chest pains," the dispatcher called. "5241 Hammond Way, cross street Harbor, at the Hammond Plaza".
"The mall again?" Johnny pushed back from the table.
"'Tis the season," Captain Stanley sighed as he closed his computer.
XXXXXX
The same security guard who had met them before, led Station 51's crew through the ground floor front entrance of the large mall towards the rotunda in the middle of the shopping center, where a massive Christmas tree stood three stories tall. The flurry of activity had only grown since their earlier response to the shopping complex, with even more shoppers packing the concourses and communal areas of the mall.
"It's Santa Claus," the guard said as they made their way past a long line of children and their parents that snaked around the base of the large Christmas tree. "He's sittin' there, like wheezing and stuff, but he's refusing to leave. He says he doesn't wanna let the kids down."
At the end of the line sat Santa Claus himself, sitting on a large red velvet throne, flanked on either side by large candy canes and mechanically animated reindeer.
A small boy sat on his lap, reading off his Christmas list while a nervous looking female elf stood behind Santa.
"Oh…my…that's…a long list…Miguel," Santa coughed as the elf helped the boy down. "We'll see what…we can do. Merry Christmas."
"Oh, thank God! Are you guys the ambulance?" the elf whispered as Johnny and Roy stepped past the velvet rope that blocked access from outside the line.
"Fire Department," Roy replied.
"Whatever. I'm just glad you came, he's not doing well."
"How we feelin' today, Santa?" Johnny asked as he set his gear down on the floor and leaned over the man.
"Just…just feeling a little…little pekid," Santa replied. "Could, could you step aside, son? I still have a lot of children to talk to and I…I…don't want to disappoint them."
"I think they'll understand, sir," Johnny kneeled beside the throne. 'I understand you've been having some chest pains?"
Santa nodded.
"Can't seem…to catch my breath…either..."
"Can we get some privacy panels or something over here?" Captain Stanley said quietly to the guard. "The kids don't need to see this."
The guard nodded and quietly spoke into his radio.
"Kids, Santa's just gonna take a little break," the Captain called to the crowd.
The children moaned their disappointment.
Santa fell silent and slumped forward, eliciting gasps from the crowd.
"No pulse," Roy said, pressing his fingers to the man's neck. "Let's get him down, guys."
The engine's crew lifted the patient from his chair and eased him down onto the floor.
Roy quickly unbuckled Santa's large belt and pulled open his red coat. He began pumping out chest compressions.
Johnny used his trauma shears to slice open the patient's undershirt, then ripped open the packets containing the defibrillator pads. He attached the pads to man's chest, then glanced back at the Likepak's monitor.
"V-Fib, Roy." he reached towards the Lifepak. "Clear!"
He pressed a button and the man's body jumped as 300 joules of electricity pulsed through him.
The children screamed.
"Flatline," Johnny studied at the monitor again. "350."
He increased the defibrillator's output to 350 joules.
"Clear!"
There was a blip on the screen, followed by more.
"Okay, he converted," he said.
"What've you guys got?" asked one of the paramedics from the ambulance company as they entered with their gurney.
"He just arrested on us," Roy replied, starting the oxygen flow. "Shocked 'im twice and we've got a rhythm now."
They worked on Santa for a few minutes longer and by the time he was placed on the gurney he had begun to stir.
"How is he?" the elf asked, holding a trembling hand to her mouth as they wheeled him away.
"Well, his color's good," Johnny replied. "That's a good sign."
"That's good," the elf turned to face the line of nervous children. "Oh, those poor kids. I don't know what to tell them."
"Don't worry, kids! Santa's gonna be just fine!" Captain Stanley called to the crowd as the patient was wheeled out the door. "He just had too many cookies. He's gonna go back to the North Pole now, so he can get some rest."
The children cheered.
"Cap, you know, we're not supposed to say things like that," Roy said, lowering his voice.
Stanley shrugged.
"I think we can make an exception this one time for the kids. And anyway, as far they're concerned, you guys just saved Christmas."
Chet stared off wistfully.
"Station 51 Saves Christmas. Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"
XXXXXX
After transferring care of their patient to the emergency department staff, Johnny and Roy took an elevator up to the third floor.
"I'll keep the volume low on my HT," Roy said tapping the mic on his chest as he and Johnny stepped off of the elevator. "If we get a run, I'll meet you at the squad."
Johnny nodded.
"Think I'll go say hi to that new nurse. I'll just be down the hall."
Roy walked a few feet, then paused before room 310's open door and peered inside.
Mrs. Hawkins smiled when she saw him.
"Hello, young man! Please come in!"
Roy flashed a toothy grin.
"How are you feeling, Mrs. Hawkins?"
She motioned for him to pull over a chair.
"Please, Roy. Call me Gladys."
He nodded and sat down in the chair beside her bed.
"Well, that Dr. Brackett tells me that my hip isn't broken," she continued. "So that's something."
"That's great news!" Roy replied. "You'll be out of here in no time."
"I suppose," she forced a smile. "I just wish my son and his family were here. Last I heard, the hospital hadn't hadn't reached them yet."
Roy nodded slowly.
"Well, I'm sure they'll be here as soon as they can."
"I hate hospitals," she sighed. "My late husband, Earl, he was in and out of them a lot, the last few years of his life. You remind me of him. He was tall and handsome like you. Do you have a family, Roy?"
"I do. I have a wife and two kids."
"Well, I'm sure you have some pictures on you. Let me see 'em!"
He smiled as he pulled out his phone.
"Yes ma'am!"
XXXXXX
The station as a whole had only responded to one more run in the hours following the response at the mall. After dinner, they retired to the day room to watch It's a Wonderful Life from the comfort of their recliners.
Captain Stanley eased down into his recliner with a cup of egg nog.
"Figure out what to get your wife yet, Cap?" Sidney asked sitting in the chair to his left.
"I did. I bought her a Coach bag. Pickin' it up tomorrow."
"Way to go, Cap! I knew you'd you'd figure it out if you thought long enough."
The Captain sipped from his cup.
"Yeah, well, I also called her sister and just asked her what I should get."
"A good captain knows when to call in reinforcements," said Roy.
Johnny sat down beside him, eating a cookie with two more in his hand.
Roy looked at him.
"Are you actually eating Chet's Christmas tree cookies?"
Johnny shrugged.
"They're sorta plain and a little salty, so the avocado icing kinda makes 'em taste like nachos. Actually, do we have any sour cream?"
He stood up and took a step towards the kitchen, when the dispatch tones echoed through the station.
"Engines 51, 8, Light Force 8, Squad 51, Squad 8, Battalion 1," droned the voice of a female dispatcher as the firefighters left their seats. "Traffic collision involving a bus. Tucker Avenue and Arroyo Boulevard."
They quickly left their seats and jogged out of the kitchen. Moments later, Engine and Squad 51 were screaming through the evening traffic with red lights flashing.
XXXXXX
Dixie sat at a table in the Rampart cafeteria, staring wearily at her cup of tea. She still had a few hours of her second shift left.
Dr. Morton, holding a To Go box, stopped as he passed her table.
"How are you feeling, Dix?"
"Tired, Mike. I am tired. Headed home?"
"Yep. Just grabbing dinner on the way out."
"Any plans?"
"Just me, my TV, and the Lakers. Did Mrs. Hawkins' family ever show?"
Dixie sighed and shook her head as she stirred her tea.
"Not yet. Poor thing. We've all been trying to check in on her and keep her company."
He patted her shoulder as he left.
"Well, hopefully they show soon. Merry Christmas, Dix."
As he left, two uniformed LAPD officers, Pete Malloy and Jim Reed, entered.
"I'm gonna grab a Coke, Pete," Reed said. "You want anything?"
"Grab me a coffee, partner. Black," Malloy said over his shoulder as he smiled down at Dixie. "Good evening, Ms. McCall. Is this seat taken?"
She held her hand out towards the chair across the table from her.
"Have at it, but I don't think I'll be very good company."
He sat down and rested his elbows on the table as he folded his arms.
"Everything okay, Dix?"
"Yep. Double shifts just tend to take it out of you, you know? How's your day been, Pete?"
"You know, the usual. Just came in to take a statement from a guy who shot himself in the foot. Back to you though, is it just work that's got you so down in the mouth, or is it something else?"
"I guess it's Christmas and everything," she sipped her tea. "Nobody to spend it with, you know."
"No one?"
She shook her head.
"Family's out of state. No gentlemen callers to speak of, recently."
Reed returned and handed Malloy a paper cup in a cardboard sleeve.
"You know, we're off tomorrow and Christmas," Reed said as he sat down at the table. "And Pete doesn't have any plans."
Malloy stared at him sideways.
"How do you know I don't have any plans?"
Reed pushed a straw through the lid of his cup.
"Do you?"
"Well, no-"
"Then there ya go. Now you've got somebody to spend Christmas with, Dix."
Dixie chuckled as she stared across the table at Malloy.
"Is he always like this?"
"More or less," Malloy laughed. "If you would like to get together on Christmas though, for some Chinese or something, you have my number."
Dixie grinned as she stood up from the table.
"I'll let you know, Flatfoot. See you around, boys."
Malloy watched her leave, then turned to his partner.
"Was that really necessary?"
Reed sipped his soda.
"You can't stay single for the rest of your life, Pete."
Malloy scoffed.
"Says who?"
XXXXXX
"Good Lord," Captain Stanley said quietly from his perch in Engine 51's cab as the rigs arrived in the intersection. He keyed his mic. "L.A., Engine 51. Station 51 is on scene, Tucker and Arroyo. We have a confirmed T.C. involving a bus and two other vehicles, Station 51 is investigating. We need sheriffs to shut down traffic in both directions."
The front half of a green Saturn sat in the intersection before a bridge, facing the units as they arrived. The rear half of the car was on it's side fifteen feet away near the side of the bridge, perched above a slope that extended down to the collector road below.
On the bridge beyond the intersection, a black Explorer rested on its side. A transit bus had broken through the guard rail and the left front wheel dangled thirty feet above the pavement below. The intersection and bridge were littered with metal debris, oil, and pebbles of glass.
Squad 8 rounded the corner and pulled even with Squad 51.
"John, Roy, you guys check the SUV," Captain Stanley called as he left the engine and slipped on his orange helmet. "Wes, Skip, you two check the car."
Squad 8's paramedics waved in acknowledgment as they pulled their gear from their truck.
"Lopez, pull a reel line, pal," the captain continued to call out orders. "Chet, you're with me, let's check on the bus."
"I've never seen a car get split in half before," Johnny said as he and Roy made their way towards the vehicles.
"I have. When I worked up at 33's," Roy said, switching on his Maglite. "Didn't end well."
The driver of the car that had been sheared in half was a young latina. She was unconscious and still buckled into her seat with her arms dangling limply behind her.
"All right. I've got a pulse," Wes Cameron, Squad 8's senior man told his partner as Johnny and Roy passed the wreckage. "Looks like her head impacted the side window."
Johnny switched on his helmet's light as he peered through the cracked windshield of the overturned SUV. The front end was severely crumpled and the roof was dented, indicating that the vehicle had rolled over at least once.
The driver was a middle aged white man who was slumped awkwardly against the side window that rested against the pavement.
"Sir! Can you hear me?" he called, tapping on the windshield. "Sir!"
"Let's go through the back," said Roy as Engine 8 arrived from the opposite direction, followed by Quint 8 and Engine 208.
They rounded the back of the truck and Roy pulled on the rear hatch's door handle. It wouldn't open. He jammed the forked end of a Halligan bar under the door, below the lock, and leaned on it until the door popped open.
Meanwhile, Captain Stanley tapped on the windows of the bus doors.
The driver jumped in her seat, then looked at him nervously as she continued to grip the steering wheel.
"Ma'am, can you open the doors?" he called.
"No…I might go over."
"You're okay. The bus won't tip over. I need you to open the doors."
The driver nervously pulled the lever and the doors folded open.
Stanley and Chet stepped onto the bus which was empty except for the driver.
"I…I didn't want to move," the bus driver said. "I was afraid the bus might…you know…go over the side."
"It'll be okay. No danger of that," the Captain said. "Are you hurt?"
"No. No, I think I'm all right."
"Okay. Why don't you come on out of the bus? Firefighter Kelly here will help you step down. Was there anyone else on the bus when the accident happened?"
"No. Just me," the driver answered nervously, holding onto Chet's arm as he helped her step off of the bus. "That man, he was driving like a maniac. I don't know how I managed to avoid him."
Battalion 1's SUV arrived, followed by two black and whites with their red and blue lights flashing.
Johnny dropped to his knees and crawled into the back of the Explorer. He crawled between the back seat and dented roof. Roy crouched at the open rear hatch, keeping an eye on his partner.
Johnny knelt and twisted his torso between the two front seats to examine the driver.
"Sir? Can you hear me?" he called. "Sir?"
The man lay motionless with blood trickling from multiple facial lacerations.
"What's his condition, Johnny?" Roy called.
Johnny slipped his hand under the driver's jaw and frowned.
"His neck's broken," he called, bracing a hand against the dashboard. "No pulse. He gone."
"Okay, well let's go and see if we can help Skip and Wes with their patient, then."
"Can you tell me where you are, ma'am?" asked Skip Johnson, Squad 8's junior paramedic, fastening a cervical collar around the woman's neck.
"Bob….Bobby…."
"Who's Bobby?" asked Cameron, slipping an oxygen mask over her face.
"Other driver's DOA," Roy said as he placed the Halligan on the ground. "How's yours?"
"Possible skull fracture," Johnson answered. "She's in and out."
"Bobby…" the woman moaned again.
"Who's Bobby?" Roy asked as he crouched beside Cameron who shook his head in reply.
Johnny looked around the scene. He shined his flashlight's beam at the backseat of the Saturn. He swept the light back towards himself until it flashed over a teddy bear laying face down in the street.
"Uh, Roy," he called, stepping over quickly. "I think there might have been a kid in the car."
"Ma'am? Was anyone else riding in the car with you?" asked Johnson.
The patient simply moaned again.
Roy stood up.
"You're thinking they got ejected?"
"It's possible," Johnny answered as he waved over Captain Stanley. "Cap! We might have another victim!"
"What've you got, Gage?" Captain Stanley called as he approached with the Battalion Chief and Engine 8's captain in tow.
"The driver's in and out, but she keeps asking for someone named 'Bobby' and I saw a teddy bear laying over there near the back half of the car. Kid might've been ejected if he was riding in back."
"Okay, let's spread out," the Battalion Chief said, turning to 8's captain. "Cap, get some of your guys to help with a search."
Firefighters and deputies soon fanned out across the accident scene, searching for a potential victim.
"They must've gone over the side," Roy said urgently. "That's the only place they could be. The back half of the car landed by the guardrail over there."
He and Johnny jogged to the railing and shined their lights into the darkness below.
"I can't see anything," Johnny said bitterly. "The brush is pretty thick, too."
"Park, grab the TIC off the engine," Captain Stanley called. "Gage, DeSoto, grab the ropes and gear from the squad."
"Got it, Cap!" Sidney replied as she pulled open one of Engine 51's compartment doors. She retrieved the thermal imaging camera as Johnny and Roy hurried back to the squad.
In record time, the firefighters had set up the equipment for a low angle rescue.
Johnny and Roy had pulled on their harnesses and attached the rope lines, which had been secured to the anchor points on the front of Engine 51.
Johnny hefted a trauma pack onto his back and swung a leg over the guardrail.
Roy stepped over the railing as well, and Sid handed him the camera.
The two paramedics descended the steep, brush covered incline, each man keeping one hand on the taut rope lines attached to their harnesses before them, while feeding the slack through their other hand behind them.
"Fire department!" Johnny called. "Is anybody down here? Bobby!"
Roy paused and took the thermal imaging camera from his brush jacket. He peered at the viewfinder.
"I don't see anything," he said. "Let's keep going."
"Bobby!" Johnny shouted as they continued their descent. "Hello!"
They climbed down farther, until they were about twenty feet below the bridge.
Roy checked the camera again, sweeping it across the landscape before him until he focused in on a small heat signature.
"Johnny!" he called. "I've got something about six feet ahead of you. It's moving!"
Johnny descended a few more feet until the small light on the side of his helmet illuminated the back of a child's car seat.
He crouched beside the seat to find a small boy with dark hair still strapped inside. His nose was dirty and he had a small scratch on his forehead. He looked up at Johnny in bewilderment and began to cry.
"I got him! It's a baby!" he shouted. "He looks okay! Maybe about a year old!"
"Engine 51, Squad 51," Roy called into the mic clipped to his jacket. "We've got the patient. He's a male, approximately one year old and appears to be in good health. We're gonna need a Stokes litter down here."
Johnny pulled off his heavy gloves and gingerly examined the boy.
"You okay, little man?"
A Sheriff's helicopter roared overhead and illuminated the hillside with its NightSun, bathing everything in white light.
XXXXXX
"My son! Where is he?" Squad 8's patient cried, regaining consciousness as she was loaded into an ambulance. "Is he hurt?"
"He okay," Johnson said as he climbed into the ambulance. "You'll get to see him at the hospital."
A few feet away, Johnny sat in the back of a second ambulance with the toddler laying on the gurney. The little boy giggled as Johnny pressed the stethoscope to his abdomen.
"How is he?" Roy asked, peering in through the open back doors.
Johnny took the stethoscope from his ears and scratched his forehead.
"He's great," he laughed. "I mean, the kid got thrown down a hill and he barely has a scratch on him. No sign of trauma at all."
Roy slipped off his helmet.
"What was that you said this morning about not believing in Christmas miracles?"
Johnny chuckled.
"Get outta here, man."
Roy smiled as an EMT climbed into the back of the ambulance.
"See ya at Rampart."
He closed the back doors of the ambulance and slapped them twice.
The ambulance pulled away from the scene, leaving the remaining firefighters to pack up their gear amid the wreckage, bathed in the brilliant illumination of red emergency lights.
XXXXXX
Dixie rode the elevator to the third floor. She wanted to check in on Gladys Hawkins before heading home for the night. Knowing that sweet woman had been alone all day, with no loved ones around to comfort her, gave her a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.
She knew that it was best not to form emotional attachments with patients, but sometimes she just couldn't help it. She'd made the decision that she would come back on Christmas and spend the day with Mrs. Hawkins. Maybe she'd bake her a pie.
The elevator doors slid open. As soon as she stepped into the hallway, she could hear children singing Deck the Halls.
As she made her way down the hall, she could tell that the singing was coming from Room 310, Mrs. Hawkins' room.
She peered inside to see Mrs. Hawkins sitting up in bed, smiling broadly as twin girls, about ten years old, stood at the foot of her bed.
Sitting to the right side of her bed was a man in his thirties who bore a strong resemblance to her. A dark-haired woman sat on the left side of the bed.
"Well, what's going on in here?" Dixie asked as she walked in.
"Dixie!" Mrs. Hawkins exclaimed. "They came! My son and his family, they're here!"
Her son stood up and smiled.
"Hi, I'm Kyle," he said, shaking Dixie's hand. "My Mom has been telling us all about you since we got here. We tried to get here sooner, but we got in a small accident on the way down. We're all okay, but we had to go pick up a rental. I know it's past visiting hours, but the floor nurse made an exception for us."
"Well, the important thing is, you're here now," Dixie replied. "Your Mom's a very special lady. We've all grown rather fond of her."
"Dixie, Kyle wants me to come live with him in Santa Barbara!" Mrs. Hawkins beamed. "Isn't that great?"
Dixie smiled.
"That is great. That's wonderful, actually. Well, I'm heading home, but I just wanted to stop in and wish you a Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas, Dixie!" Mrs. Hawkins said happily. "God bless you! And we'll keep the singing down."
Dixie waved goodbye and stepped out into the hall. She smiled to herself and brushed back a happy tear.
Sharon walked towards her wearing a jacket and carrying her purse.
"Headed home too, Dixie?"
"Yes I am," Dixie pressed the call button for the elevator. "At long last."
"I'm glad Mrs. Hawkins family showed up," Sharon said, stepping up beside her.
"Me too. Any plans for Christmas?"
The bell chimed and the elevator doors slid open.
"I'm going down to visit my parents in Anaheim," Sharon replied as they stepped into the elevator. "What about you? Any Christmas plans?"
Dixie smiled as she pressed the 1st Floor button.
"I think I might go out for Chinese."
XXXXXX
The following morning, the B-Shift engineer stood in front of Station 51, raising the U.S. and California State flags, while inside, the members of A-Shift were preparing to head home.
Johnny closed his locker and slipped on his jacket.
"You sure it's okay to come over?"
Roy stared at his reflection in the mirror as he combed his hair.
"Absolutely. It was Joanne's idea. She didn't like the idea of you spending Christmas alone."
"Can I bring anything?"
"Just your appetite."
Johnny grinned as he stared at his own reflection in the mirror.
"That, I can manage."
Bert Dwyer, one of the B-Shift paramedics, strolled into the locker room in uniform.
"You pretty boys can head home," he said. "The real firemen are here now."
Johnny turned around and rested his hands on the counter behind him.
"You know Bert, in the spirit of the holiday season, I won't dignify that comment with one of my patented witty remarks."
"That's very big of you, Gage," Dwyer replied, slipping his hands into his pockets. "How was your shift?"
Johnny shrugged.
"Not bad. Eight runs total. MDC on the squad went down on our last run. Radio Shop's supposed to be by today to fix..."
The tones called out.
"Engine and Squad 51, traffic collision. 5241 Hammond Way, cross street Harbor, at the Hammond Plaza. East Parking Structure."
"Merry Christmas, guys!" Dwyer called as he pushed open the wooden door of the locker room.
Roy turned around and folded his arms.
"The mall. Again."
"Well," Johnny dropped a hand onto his shoulder. "Like Cap said, ''tis the season'."
END
This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to actual persons, places, or organizations is purely coincidental. All firefighting and medical information may not be accurate.