Chapter
22
Reah fumbled as she attempted
to insert the house key into the lock. She could hear the echo of the ringing
phone as she stepped in the back door. While she ran for the phone she flipped
on the light switch and tossed her father's mail on the butcher-block kitchen
counter.
"Coming!" She called
as though the person on the other end could hear her. "I'm coming!"
Reah didn't even get a chance
to say hello before the connection on the other end was broken and she was left
listening to a dial tone. The woman shrugged her shoulders while hanging up the
phone.
"Whoever it is will
probably call back."
Not that Reah would necessarily
be in her father's home when that happened. Chad Gage was in Washington D.C.
attending a conference at the Bureau of Indian Affairs. While he was gone Reah,
along with her grandfather, was taking care of the livestock on the Gage ranch.
The woman pushed a thick strand
of long dark hair behind one ear as she walked through the log style ranch home
that reminded her of a hunting lodge nestled deep in the mountains. Her mother
had been dead for ten and a half years now, but the house was as neat and clean
as it had been when Laurel Gage was alive. Reah had been surprised to see her
father transform into an independent widower who took care of his own cooking,
cleaning, and laundry. To a large degree her parents' marriage had been a very
traditional one, as was common for people in their age group. Add to that
Reah's father was a full-blooded Waupun Indian and you had a man who had never
changed a diaper, let alone put a load of laundry in a machine throughout his
twenty nine years of marriage. But circumstances do change people, and Reah was
the first to admit that a succession of sorrowful circumstances had changed her
father in more ways than she could name.
As Reah walked through the
sunken great room she passed the massive stone fireplace and her father's
favorite recliner. She smiled when she recalled how hard her dad and mom had
worked to build this home. How hard they'd worked so they could raise their
children off the reservation. She doubted John even remembered much about
living on the reservation. He'd been six when they'd moved to this ranch
adjacent to it. But she'd been eleven, and the poverty, idleness, and boredom
that spurred alcohol abuse and gambling addictions amongst the teenage boys and
grown men were still prevalent in her mind.
Reah looked at the collection
of pictures hanging on the far wall. All of them were of her and John. The
pictures recalled childhood from birth through high school graduation. In
Reah's case, they continued until they documented her graduation from college
with a Masters degree in nursing as well. She'd wanted to be a doctor, but the
financial drain that type of education would put on her parents was more than
she could ask for. So she settled for obstetrical nursing with a bold thought
in mind. To return the reservation where she'd spent much of her childhood and
act as nurse/midwife to the women there who so often received no prenatal care
at all.
Typical of a Gage, Reah had
done just what she'd set her mind to. Though she wasn't a doctor, she might as
well have been for all the assistance she offered her patients. Long ago she
stopped counting how many babies she'd delivered. Even longer ago she'd stopped
counting how many of them had been named for her. However; she never stopped
counting how many women had lived to raise their healthy babies because of her.
That was all that mattered to Reah. Healthy mothers, healthy children. It was a
basic right every woman in America should be granted, but so many who lived in
poverty weren't.
Reah's eyes wandered to the pictures
of her brother. There was only one of John after the age of eighteen. It was
the picture he'd sent her of him in his dress uniform upon his graduation from
the fire academy. John hadn't sent it to their father because he assumed
Charles Gage would have no interest in displaying it. Or at least that's what
Reah thought. John had never told her why he hadn't sent the picture to their
father, and Reah had never asked. She'd simply given it to her dad one day
shortly after it arrived. Chad barely glanced at the picture before tossing it
on the kitchen counter top like he would a piece of junk mail. Therefore, Reah
was surprised the next time she was in her father's home and found it displayed
on the great room wall. She'd often thought of telling John whom she'd given
the picture to, and where it was hanging, but knowing John that news would only
cause a lull in their conversation before he changed the subject.
Reah moved on to the bedrooms
at the back of the house. Everything was in order as she'd expected it to be.
She paused for a moment in the room that belonged to her father. There was a
wall with pictures in here, too. Pictures her father found too painful to
publicly display for various reasons. There was the picture of him and their
mother on their wedding day. There was nothing fancy about it. After all, he
was an Indian man marrying a white woman in May of 1938. Not exactly a time
when the mixing of these two races was accepted in this part of Montana. Not
that the mixing of such races was completely accepted now, but Reah could see
small strides in that area and had a feeling that by the turn of the century
most people wouldn't bat an eyelash at the notion of a mixed marriage in any
form.
The twins had been born between
Reah and John. Two identical little girls. Reah was three when they came and
not quite four when they died. She didn't really remember anything about them.
Layne and Lorelei had been their English names. Alawa and Alaka had been their
names in Waupun, literally meaning two from one.
Layne had gotten sick first
with a severe viral infection that had been going around the reservation that
winter of 1943. Lorelei began coughing and running a temperature two days
later. Reah's maternal grandfather was an old fashioned family doctor of the
likes you rarely saw any longer. Once a week he paid a visit to the
reservation, often bringing along his daughter, which explains how the romance
between Laurel Hamilton and Chad Gage ensued. But because their off spring were
half Indian the local hospital wouldn't admit the girls. Not even Reah's
grandfather could get those rules changed. He put every once of his knowledge
into saving his nine month old granddaughters, but without the care a hospital
could provide the girls didn't make it. Reah was certain that was the day her
father decided he had a place in tribal politics. That in order for things to
change, in order for the white man's world to view the Indian in a different
light, an Indian had to take a step forward and make a difference.
John's birth three years after
the death of the twins had been extra special for her parents. That he was a
boy brought their father even further delight. Reah smiled as she recalled her
little brother and his many escapades. Always on the move. Always laughing.
Always teasing. Always smiling. Always jabbering on about whatever came to his
mind, and fearless when it came to doing anything from scrambling up a tree to
getting on the back of a moody horse. One hundred percent boy and then some, as
Grandpa Hamilton used to say about John. And no doubt spoiled as hell by both
Reah and her parents, but not spoiled in a bad way. Not in a way that made him
a demanding brat or callus towards the feelings of others, but simply spoiled
with love. Reah didn't think that was such a bad thing. She didn't think any
child could ever really be loved too much.
Her eyes drifted to the last
picture on the wall. Kim and Jessie. She had the exact same picture on a wall
in her home. Sometimes it hurt so much to remember, but at the same time it
also hurt to forget. Reah might not have fully believed the latter if she
hadn't witnessed it with her own eyes. Isn't that what John had done all these
years? Tried to forget? Even pretended like he had forgotten?
I bet you don't have any
pictures of them in your home, little brother. I bet none of your
friends,....whomever your friends are now, even know about them.
Reah shook her head to
clear it of that fateful night. Admittedly she didn't want to remember the
aftermath of the carnage any more than John did.
But forgetting that, as
opposed to trying to wipe Kim and Jessie from your memory, are two very
different things John Roderick Gage.
With one final lingering
glance at the pictures Reah shut her father's bedroom light off and moved on.
She stopped in the doorway of the room that had been hers, and then stepped
across the hall to John's old bedroom.
Nothing in either of these
places except good memories, she smiled as she retraced her steps to the
front of the house. The nurse picked up her pace as the phone began to ring
again. She glanced at the kitchen clock as she passed to see it was quarter to
eleven.
Who would be calling Dad at
this late hour anyway?
"Hello?"
The voice on the other end
hesitated a moment, as if the caller wasn't expecting a woman to answer the
phone.
"Hello. Is this the
Charles Gage residence?"
"Yes, it is."
"Can I speak to Mr. Gage
please."
"I'm sorry, but he's out
of town for the next ten days. This is his daughter. May I take a
message?"
"His daughter? Johnny's
sister?"
Though Reah wasn't used to
hearing her sibling referred to as Johnny, he'd always been called either John
or Katori, or on occasion by the nickname Trip, she assumed the caller meant
her brother.
"Yes. I'm John's sister
Reah Gage. May I ask who's calling?"
For some reason Reah got a
sinking feeling in her stomach when once again the man hesitated before making
a reply.
"I...Miss Gage, I'm Hank
Stanley. I'm the captain at Station 51 where your brother works."
Now Reah could hear the man's
calm professionalism kick in as though he knew he had to keep any fear or worry
out of his tone as he conveyed the reason behind his call.
"Yes?"
"I...Miss Gage...I'm
sorry to have to inform you of this. Your brother's in the Intensive Care Unit
at Rampart General Hospital. He had four hours of surgery late this afternoon
in order to--"
Reah didn't allow Hank Stanley
to finish. In her mind she pictured third degree burns, or a broken back as a
result of a fall, or missing limbs because of an explosion, or lost eyesight,
or multiple fractures that might cripple him for the rest of his life, or one
hundred other things that came to mind when a nurse hears the phrase, 'four
hours of surgery,' followed by, 'in the Intensive Care Unit.'
Damn you, John. Damn you!
You promised me this would never happen. When you took that job you promised me
we'd never get a phone call in the middle of the night with someone on the
other end telling us you were hurt. Oh, Trip, how will I ever break the news to
Dad?
Without saying another word
Reah severed the connection with Captain Stanley. She ran out of the house,
barely remembering to lock the door behind her. She started her pickup truck,
gunned the engine, and headed for her paternal grandfather's home on the
reservation.
Chapter 23
At
the same time Reah Gage was on the phone with Captain Stanley, Roy DeSoto was
sitting on the edge of his bed. The paramedic listened to the muted sounds
coming from the master bathroom as Joanne washed off her makeup and brushed her
teeth. Weariness hung over the man like a heavy cloud, and he decided his wife
had the right idea. It was time to call it a night.
Roy stripped his clothes off
and exchanged them for blue pajama bottoms and a clean white T-shirt. He folded
the clothes in a neat pile and set them on the bedroom chair. He'd get them to
the hamper in the morning.
Without turning on any lights
the paramedic walked back to the bed and folded the quilted spread to the
footboard. He fluffed the pillows for both himself and his wife, then idly
turned away. Roy was exhausted. He knew he should be climbing into the nest of
blankets that waited him, but his nerves were far from ready to allow him to
sleep. He walked over to the double window, pushed the curtains apart by a
couple inches, and stared up at the full moon.
Roy heard Joanne's bare feet
shuffle across the green and white shag carpeting that lined their bedroom from
wall to wall. She wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him from behind.
The blond man basked in the warm comfort of his wife's body before turning to
reciprocate the hug. When they broke apart Joanne moved to the bed and slipped
in between the sheets. She pulled the blanket to her stomach, then held the
covers up for Roy.
"Are you coming to
bed?"
"Yeah...I guess."
"Are you hungry? That
offer of a sandwich or scrambled eggs still stands."
"No," Roy shook his
head. "No thanks. I'm not...I just don't feel like eating."
When they'd gotten home at
nine o'clock Joanne had given each of the kids a bowl of Cheerios and glass of
orange juice. She'd sat at the table with them eating a container of yogurt and
a banana. Roy had refused anything at that time, too, saying he wasn't hungry
before he'd wandered aimlessly from the kitchen. When Joanne was taking
Jennifer upstairs for her bath twenty minutes later she found her husband
sitting in the living room in the dark, staring at the far wall.
"Roy?" Joanne had
beckoned. "Roy?"
"Huh?" Roy turned to
his wife and daughter as though just then realizing they were in the room with
him. "What?"
"Can you please see Chris
off to bed? His putting his cereal bowl and glass in the dishwasher. He doesn't
need a shower, he took one at Johnny's house before we left for the hospital,
but he does need to brush his teeth."
"Sure. Sure, I can do
that."
Roy moved like he was in a daze
as he headed for the kitchen to collect his son. Even Jennifer understood the
reason behind her father's odd behavior. She looked up at her mother with eyes
far older than her nine years.
"Daddy's really worried
about Uncle Johnny, isn't he?"
"Yes, sweetie, he
is." Joanne hid her own worry for her husband's partner by giving her
daughter the best smile she could muster. "Come on. Let's get you in the
bathtub."
This was one night Joanne
didn't allow any playing in the tub. They were all tired and she just wanted to
see this day come to an end.
The woman lay next to her
daughter in Jennifer's twin bed until the little girl fell asleep. They said
another prayer together for Johnny, then Jen curled against Joanne's side
without a further word. This silence on Jennifer's part was uncharacteristic to
the say the least. Usually she chattered away until sleep claimed her.
Joanne brought her thoughts
back to the present. "Roy, come on to bed. Like Doctor Brackett said, you
need to rest, too."
Roy remained standing by the
window. When a minute passed and he didn't move Joanne dropped the covers. The
full moon was casting enough light in the room that she didn't bother to turn
on her bedside lamp.
"How was Chris?" The
woman asked, knowing that Roy had stayed with their son until he fell asleep
just like she'd stayed with their daughter.
"Worried. Upset. He feels
guilty that he left Jen and Johnny alone only to have Johnny get attacked
again."
"He made the right choice.
And besides, if he'd stayed up on the mountain God only knows what that man
might have done to him."
"I know. I told Chris
again that he'd done the right thing. I think...well I think he's just going to
have to hear that from us for a while before he finally comes to believe
it."
"I'm sure you're
right."
Roy ran two fingers over the
smooth wood of the windowsill. "He's just...Chris is real concerned about
Johnny right now, but doesn't know how to talk about his feelings."
"Sounds like his
father," Joanne replied with the smallest of smiles.
Roy's eyes traveled to his wife
for a brief moment. He returned her smile with a half hearted shrug.
"I guess. Chip off the old
block as the expression goes. Anyway, he asked me a lot of questions."
"Questions?"
"He wanted to know what
Johnny looked like when I saw him in the Recovery Room. What the machines were
for that he was hooked up to. If he'd be feeling any pain tonight. Who would be
taking care of him. What would happen when he was moved to ICU. Things like
that."
"What'd you tell
him?"
"I told him the truth. I
described how Johnny looked. I told him what the various IV's are for, what the
machines monitor, what the ventilator does, what the drainage tubes do, the
whole shot. Hell, I even explained about the function of the Foley catheter. I
figured after all he's been through, after the maturity he displayed ever since
Johnny was first injured and Chris had to run off into the night with Jennifer,
it would be a disservice to sugar coat my answers."
"He's a smart kid,"
Joanne agreed. "And almost twelve years old. You're right, you'd be doing
him a disservice if you didn't tell him the truth. At least this way,....well
at least this way maybe he'll be somewhat prepared if things,...if things don't
turn out the way we hope."
Roy looked out at the moon.
"To tell you the truth, babe, I don't think he'll be anymore prepared than
I will be. He said he wished Johnny could have come home with us tonight. Or
that Doctor Brackett would have let me stay with him."
"Why?"
Roy turned toward his wife.
"Chris doesn't want him to
be scared, Jo. He's worried about the same things I am. That Johnny will wake
up and not know where he is. Or that he'll wake up and think Jennifer has been
hurt. Or wake up in pain and no one will be there to help him."
"Honey, come on. You
always say Rampart has the best staff of any hospital in the area. And to top
it off almost everybody there knows and loves Johnny. He'll be treated like a king.
Heck, he'll be so spoiled when he gets out of there he'll spend the first week
at home looking around for a pretty nurse to wait on him hand and foot."
Roy chuckled. "I suppose you're right. Doc Brackett pretty much said the
same thing."
"Speaking
of Doctor Brackett, he told me the kids will probably have nightmares for a
while."
Roy nodded but made no reply.
If there was anything he could do to spare his children further terror he
would. He'd have the damn nightmares himself if that was possible in order to
keep Jennifer and Chris from experiencing them.
"He also gave me the name
of the child psychologist who's on staff with the hospital. He thinks it's a
good idea for the kids to have a few sessions with him."
Joanne watched her husband with
wary eyes, not really sure how he'd react to this news. Like many men, he
didn't put much stock in any form of therapy. She was surprised, then, when he
voiced his agreement.
"Whatever Doc Brackett
advises I'll go along with."
Joanne's surprise was plain to
hear. "You will?"
"Yeah. God knows of all
the things I imagined us facing as our kids grew older this sure as hell wasn't
one of them."
"I'll call the
psychologist tomorrow then to see when I can make an appointment."
Again Roy nodded without making
a reply. Joanne was just about to urge her husband to bed once more, when the
moonlight coming through the window allowed her to see the silent tears running
down Roy's face. She started to throw back the covers. Roy held up a hand,
indicating that he didn't want her to approach him.
"Roy? Honey?"
Roy could barely find his
voice. "He...he was stabbed five times, Jo. Five times. Yet despite the
pain, and the shock, and the blood loss, our kids were his only priority. He
didn't care about himself. I know John Gage better than I know myself
sometimes. He laid up there on that mountain and never fretted over whether
he'd live or die. All he cared about was keeping Jen and Chris safe. For God
sake he told Jennifer he couldn't face me if something happened to her.
Couldn't face me! Did he really think I'd blame him? That I'd take my grief and
anger out on him because some nut barged into their camp at midnight intent on
doing God knows what to our little girl?"
"No, honey, I'm sure he
didn't really think that. Or at least it's not something he would think under
normal circumstances."
"I just...I just don't
want him laying in that hospital bed tonight worrying that I'm mad at
him."
"Honey, he's not. I'm sure
he's not. But if we have to tell him that we're not angry with him...that we never
could be angry with him for doing nothing more than trying to keep our kids out
of some mad man's hands, then every time we see Johnny we will tell him
that until he's convinced it's the truth."
Roy swallowed hard as his
mind's eye traveled back to the mountain.
"How he ever survived that
second attack is beyond me. He...he was just letting that man beat him and beat
him and beat him when I got there. He didn't have the strength to do more than
that. I remember wondering where Jennifer was while at the same time thinking I
had to pull the guy off Johnny. I heard the guy screaming, "Where's the girl?
Where's the girl?" and Johnny never made a sound. Not one sound. Then the
guy saw me and took off running. Johnny collapsed after that, and Jenny popped
out from underneath him. He...he was hiding her, Joanne. He had positioned
himself on his hands and knees so she was under him. Between that, and the
blankets draped over his back that were hanging to the ground, you couldn't see
her. It was the only way he had left to protect her. He let that guy pound on
him with that damn club because it was the only way he had left to protect
Jenny. It was the only way he could keep our daughter safe. And he did it
willingly, while all along knowing he was probably going to die."
Joanne slipped out of bed.
Though she'd heard both Roy and Jennifer tell Mark Bellmen about these events,
hearing the stark emotion in Roy's voice as he told of them again caused the
woman's heart to break. She'd only seen Roy cry twice since she'd married him,
on the day each of their children were born. And even at that the tears had never
done more than well up in his eyes. They'd certainly never overflowed to run
down his cheeks and splash onto his T-shirt, which was happening now as Roy's
worry for his partner and best friend was released.
The woman forced her husband to
turn around. She hugged him as tight as she could. She felt his tears trickle
into her hair. She rubbed a hand up and down his back as she soothed,
"Johnny will be okay. He'll be okay, Roy. I know he'll be okay."
As Joanne continued to hold her
crying husband she hoped she wasn't making him a promise that wouldn't come to
pass. She couldn't imagine their world without Johnny in it anymore than Roy
could. That thought alone made her want to cry with her husband, but she forced
herself to keep her tears at bay. She was a fireman's wife. Joanne had learned
long ago that meant she had to be strong for her children and her husband.
When Roy had no more tears left
to cry Joanne convinced him to come to bed with her. When she knew he'd finally
dropped off to sleep she turned away from him and allowed her own tears to flow
for John Gage.
Chapter 24
By the time the sun was rising
over the Pacific the next morning Evan Crammer was two hundred miles north of Los
Angeles. He'd exited Keith's truck in a city of sixty thousand called
Bensonville. The first order of business was to procure a motel room. The
second was to call his bank in Illinois and have money wired from one of his
accounts. Evan had his father to thank for this financial soundness. The old
man had made bundles of cash, and had the foresight to invest it wisely. A four
million dollar trust fund had become available to Evan when he turned
twenty-one. His own sharp mind only made that four million grow. He'd never
held a job in his life, though his mother thought he was a consultant for some
firm whose name she could never remember. Evan laughed at the thought of how
easy it was to fool his mother as he crossed the street to the Western Union
Office in order to pick up the money that awaited him there. But then, his
mother always had been easily fooled.
With his wallet fattened once
again Evan headed down the street to a used car dealership. Thirty minutes
later he pulled out driving a baby blue two door Dodge Dart. He stopped at a
hardware store to replenish his supplies. He'd lost everything on that damn
mountain, including his knapsack, knife and billy club. The knapsack he
replaced with one exactly like it, pale blue and large enough to hold
everything from clothes to weapons. The billy club he replaced with a small
baseball bat, the size of what you'd start a five year old with. The knife he
chose was almost an exact replica of the one he'd stabbed John Gage with.
Evan's last stop was at the
local Kmart. The purchase of a navy shirt, navy pants, tie, and kid's toy badge
would once again allow him to fool his young victims into believing he was a
cop.
With his purchases in their
bags on the seat beside him, Evan began to cruise the town. He liked this city.
He liked it a lot. It was just the right size.
Not too big and not too small. He saw a little blond girl skipping rope on the
sidewalk in front of her home and waited for the familiar rush of excitement to
swell his groin. When that didn't happen he frowned. He wondered if the events
that occurred in Los Angeles were still effecting him. He shook his head,
trying to clear Jennifer and her damn Uncle Johnny from his mind.
Forget about them.
Concentrate on where you're at. There's plenty of little girls right here in
Bensonville. You're not a failure just because things didn't work out in L.A.
You're not a failure.
Evan kept trying to
convince himself of that fact as he slowly drove up down the residential
streets of this central California city. Like Mark Bellmen had correctly
surmised, Evan had a burning need to be in control at all times. Fury rose
within his soul as he thought of dark headed man who took that control away
from him.
Don't think about him.
Forget about Uncle Johnny. Things can be good here. Just as good as they would
have been there. Things can be good.
Evan smiled when he saw a
girl roller skating by herself in the school yard. It was Monday, so school
should be in session, but judging by the desolate grounds that was not the
case. For whatever reason the students who attended Brookview Elementary School
had the day off.
The big man didn't even bother
with his mock policeman's uniform as he approached Carrie Wrightman from
behind. Before the girl knew what was happening she'd been whisked off the
ground and thrown into a car. She screamed and cried and kicked, but unlike
Jennifer DeSoto, Carrie had no Uncle Johnny to save her.
Chapter 25
Roy
and Joanne kept their children home from school on Monday. Jennifer had
awakened the entire household at three that morning when she shot up in bed
screaming. Roy was the first to reach his daughter. He flicked on her bedroom
light as he ran by the switch. Jen was sitting up in bed with wide, unseeing
eyes. Tears ran down her cheeks as she sobbed, "Uncle Johnny! Uncle
Johnny!" in a voice so distraught Roy could barely understand her.
Jennifer collapsed into her
father's arms as soon as she felt his weight dip the mattress. At first Roy
surmised she was still entrenched in the nightmare. As she clung to him and
cried, "Uncle Johnny, Uncle Johnny," Roy assumed her mind was back on
the mountain and she thought he was John.
"Jen...sweetheart...it's
Daddy. It's not Uncle Johnny, hon. It's Daddy. We're home, Jennifer. We're in
your bedroom. You're safe, sweetheart. You're safe. Daddy's here."
The girl shook her head against
Roy's T-shirt. Her words were so muffled Roy had to listen hard to hear them.
"Uncle Johnny. I
dreamed...oh, Daddy...I dreamed Uncle Johnny died. And that...that...we were
at...at his...funeral. I dreamed...you, and Cap, and Chet, and Marco, and Mike
carried him...carried him out of the church...and put...put him...on the fire
engine...and then...then...Chet handed you his helmet and...and...and...I rode
to the graveyard with you in the squad...with Uncle Johnny's helmet...on my
lap."
Roy couldn't help but shudder
at the somewhat fragmented, yet accurate description his daughter had just
given of the way the Los Angeles Fire Department honored a fallen comrade.
Jennifer and Chris had attended a funeral the previous summer for a fireman
from Station 110 who had died in the line of duty. They were classmates of the
man's children. After much discussion Roy and Joanne decided they were old
enough to pay their respects to the family. Now Roy was wishing he'd spared his
kids that ceremony. Jennifer's cries had woken Chris. He stood in the doorway,
wrapped in his mother's arms, looking just as pale and frightened as his
sister.
The paramedic brought one hand
up to his daughter's head. He held her against his chest while rocking back and
forth.
"Shhh. Shhh. Don't cry,
sweetie. Don't cry. Uncle Johnny's all right. He's fine. It was just a bad
dream. Nothing more than a bad dream."
Jennifer lifted her face from
Roy's chest. Her eyes were red from crying and she was in bad need of a
Kleenex.
"Are you sure, Daddy? Are
you sure Uncle Johnny's all right?"
"Yes, I'm sure. Doctor
Brackett promised me he'd call if there was any change at all in Uncle Johnny's
condition. He hasn't called, honey. No one's called."
"So that means Uncle
Johnny is getting better?"
Roy was caught in Jennifer's
trusting gaze while at the same time he could feel Chris's eyes on him, too. He
looked at his son a moment, then back at his daughter.
"I'm not going to lie to
you or your brother. At this time what it means is that Uncle Johnny hasn't
gotten any worse. As far as better goes...it might take a while before Doctor
Brackett can give us that news."
"Because Uncle Johnny was
hurt so bad," Jennifer guessed.
"Yes," Roy quietly
agreed. "Because Uncle Johnny was hurt so bad."
Jennifer placed her hands on
either side of Roy's face. "Don't be sad, Daddy. I only had a bad dream.
It wasn't real. Uncle Johnny's not gonna die."
Roy had no reply for his child.
Maybe she was right, or maybe she was wrong. If nothing else Roy longed for her
optimism. An innocent optimism that poignantly made him think of his gravely
ill partner.
Joanne took charge of the
situation then. She ushered Jennifer into the bathroom, washed her face and
made her blow her nose. How the entire family ended up in Roy and Joanne's bed
shortly thereafter the paramedic wasn't sure. He couldn't remember if one of
the kids asked to sleep with them, or if Joanne suggested it. Either way was
okay with Roy. He knew the details of Jennifer's dream had shaken them all.
The DeSoto family arrived at
Rampart Hospital at two forty-five that afternoon. Thanks to Doctor Brackett's
influence, the kids had a three o'clock appointment with the on-staff child
psychologist, Peter St. Claire. Roy had attempted to contact Brackett several
times that morning to get an update on Johnny, but was never able to get a hold
of the busy doctor. Therefore he had to be satisfied with the information the
nursing supervisor on the ICU floor gave him which was nothing more than,
"He's holding his own, Mr. DeSoto."
Chris and Jennifer played with
the many toys in Doctor St. Clair's waiting room while their parents met with
the man alone. Once the adults had discussed the details of the weekend's
trauma the doctor was ready to see the DeSoto children. Joanne took a seat in
the empty waiting room. When she was settled she pulled a book out of her
purse. She looked up, not surprised to find her husband still standing.
"If
you don't mind I think I'll go up and see Johnny. I'd like to find Doc Brackett
as well."
"I don't mind. You go
ahead. The kids and I will meet you in the waiting area outside the ICU."
Roy bent and kissed his wife on
the cheek. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze.
"Thanks. I don't know how
I'd get through this without you."
Before Joanne could respond her
husband was gone.
Roy stepped off the elevator on
the sixth floor. He walked the long corridor toward the distant double doors
that contained a red sign declaring in bold print; Intensive Care Unit. Please
Use The Phone To Your Right To Call The Nurse's Station Before Entering.
Roy passed offices and the
waiting area, taking little notice of anyone until he spotted Mark Bellmen
speaking to a uniformed man. Kelly Brackett stood next to the detective. He
gave a quiet, "Hi, Roy," in greeting as the paramedic approached.
Roy was surprised to see that
the young man who was posted outside the ICU was not one of the hospital
security guards, but rather a Los Angeles police officer.
They must really be worried
Johnny's attacker will show back up, Roy thought, as further dread crept
through his system. I wonder if they've found something out?
Mark Bellmen seemed to read
Roy's thoughts. When his brief conversation with the rookie cop came to an end
he held out his hand to the paramedic.
"Roy. Nice to see you
again."
"Detective," Roy
nodded. When their handshake came to an end Roy asked, "Any news on the
guy?"
"No. No news. No
sightings. No nothing. As I said yesterday afternoon, the likelihood that he's
still in the area is slim, but of course we don't want to take any chances at
this point. I've asked Doctor Brackett to inform the nurses not to release any
information about John to anyone who might inquire by phone other than those
people specified by him."
Kelly smiled and answered Roy's
next question before he could ask it.
"Don't worry, Roy, you're
on the list. As are the all the guys on 51's A-Shift. If you can think of any
other friends of Johnny's we should add just let me know. We'll stop at the
nurse's station on our way out."
"That'll be fine,"
Roy agreed as the names of several of Johnny's friends immediately came to
mind. That thought also reminded the paramedic that he had some phone calls to
make this evening on his partner's behalf. Brackett's voice interrupted Roy's
musing.
"By the way, has anyone
made contact with his family?"
"I don't know. Cap was
going to try when he got home last night. I haven't talked to him today. I can
give him a call in a little while."
"I think that would be a
good idea. Johnny's family...they need to be here."
Roy sensed an uncharacteristic urgency
to Brackett's tone. Before he could ask Kelly any questions the doctor pushed
the ICU doors open.
John's room was directly across
from the centrally located nurse's station, which indicated to Roy how closely
he was being monitored. None of the rooms on the ICU floor contained doors
making for quick and easy access for the medical staff. Most of the patients
who spent time here were too out of it to worry about privacy anyway. When
privacy was needed a curtain could be pulled across the doorway. Which
is exactly what Kelly Brackett did when he, Roy, and Bellmen arrived at
Johnny's side.
Roy might have been confused by
Brackett's actions had he not noticed the camera hanging around Mark's neck. He
recalled the detective telling Dixie the previous afternoon that he'd need
pictures of Johnny's injuries in the event his attacker was caught and the case
went to court.
John was lying just as he had
been in the Recovery Room the previous evening, on his left side with pillows
propped against his back. He'd been given a sponge bath and a hair washing, but
for some reason Roy thought he looked worse. His eyes traveled across the bed
and met Doctor Brackett's. Kelly nodded.
"He's starting to spike a
temp on us. That fact doesn't make me happy, but I can't say I'm
surprised."
"Will he be able to fight
the infection off?"
Kelly kept his voice low when
he said, "I hope so. I'm doing everything in my power to help him,
Roy."
"I know."
Doctor Brackett tried to rouse
Johnny. Like he'd done the previous evening, he put a hand on the paramedic's
blanket covered thigh.
"Johnny? John? Can you
wake up for me? Johnny, I need to talk to you for a minute." When Kelly
got no response he tried the trick that had worked the night before.
"John, Roy's here to see you. Come on, Johnny, wake up for your
partner."
Johnny still didn't respond.
Kelly waved Roy over. The blond paramedic took his turn at urging his friend to
consciousness, but Johnny would have no part of it.
The doctor gave a heavy sigh.
"He's been like this ever since we moved him here."
"Been like what?" Roy
asked.
"More or less
unresponsive."
"But you have him sedated.
Wouldn't that account for it?"
"To some degree, but not
completely. He's been alternating between agitation and this. When he gets
upset we assure him Jennifer's all right and that he, as well, is safe. That
calms him down for a while, then he starts all over again. I've changed his
mediation twice now since last night, but I can't seem to get him to completely
relax the way I want him to. After you left he started bleeding again from
those wounds on his back. I repacked them and got it stopped, nonetheless his
body didn't need the additional stress."
The deep frown Kelly wore never
left his face as he checked his patient. Finally he looked across the bed at
Mark Bellmen.
"As long as Roy's here to
help me, let's get this over with."
The detective nodded as he
stepped around the bed.
"I'll start with the easy
stuff. Gentlemen, if you'll move back for me."
Roy and Kelly relinquished
their places by the head of Johnny's bed. Being mindful of the equipment Mark
began snapping pictures of the injured paramedic. His first shots were close
ups of Johnny's face. If this case made it to court he wanted the jury to see
that a ventilator was being used to force air into John Gage's lungs. The next
shots encompassed the sling that held John's right arm against his chest, and
the following ones were of the cast that ran from just below his left elbow to
his knuckles. When the detective moved to the other side of the
bed Doctor Brackett followed.
"Roy, stay right there.
I'm going to untie Johnny's gown and remove these bandages for Detective
Bellmen. Then you and I are going to roll him a little further onto his left
side."
Roy nodded. As he watched
Brackett untie the thin gown so Bellmen could take pictures of Johnny's mangled
back Roy felt like his partner was being violated all over again. He hated that
they were doing this without John's permission, even though the practical part
of him knew Johnny would give permission if it meant these pictures might
someday put the attempted kidnapper in prison.
Out of respect for his friend's
dignity Roy made certain the blanket stayed in place at Johnny's waist while
Brackett opened his gown. Even a detective as seasoned as Mark Bellmen couldn't
keep the shock out of his voice when the bandages were carefully removed.
"Jesus!"
Without disturbing any
equipment or the IV's, Roy leaned over his partner's body. The long rows of
black stitches on John's upper and low back didn't shock him the way they did
Bellmen, but he had to agree they weren't a pretty sight. The skin around the
stitches was red and angry, looking like it was just daring anyone to disturb
them. The billy club had left its mark as well. Bruises in three shades of
blue, and in sizes that ranged from the circumference of a quarter to the
length of the lower half of Roy's arm, marred every area that hadn't been
crossed by the stitches.
The detective shook his head in
disgust at what had been done to John Gage. A long moment passed before he placed
the camera at his eye and said, "Okay, I'm ready."
Brackett looked at Roy.
"Roy, put one hand on his thigh and the other on his chest under the
sling. Detective, I don't want to move him any more than necessary, so please
be quick about this."
"Yes, Doctor."
"Okay, Roy. Gently. Very
gently."
Again Roy was mindful of
everything going into and out of John Gage's body. He saw Johnny's eyebrows
furrow as he registered the pain this movement was causing him.
"We're hurting him,"
the paramedic announced.
"Hurry it up,
Detective," Brackett urged.
Bellmen didn't respond, but Roy
thought the shutter on his camera clicked at a quicker pace than it had been.
"It's okay, Johnny,"
Roy told his partner, not wanting Johnny to think he was being hurt by his
attacker again. "It's okay. I'm here with you. So is Doctor
Brackett."
If Roy's words registered with
Johnny he didn't show it. The blond headed man was relieved when Bellmen said,
"All right. I got what I need."
Roy and Kelly carefully
returned Johnny to the position he had been in. As mindful of Johnny's dignity
as Roy had been, Doctor Brackett lifted the blanket away from the paramedic's
right calf rather than pull it down from his waist. He removed the bandages and
stepped back so Bellmen could get the pictures he needed. The last set of
pictures were of John's injured biceps. Brackett unsnapped his sling and once
again removed bandages.
When Mark Bellmen had gotten all
the pictures he needed Roy assisted Doctor Brackett in rebandaging Johnny's
wounds. It was Roy who retied his partner's gown when they were finished, and
Roy who pulled the blanket up to his chest.
Brackett pulled the curtain
back and led the men from the room.
The doctor and Mark Bellmen had
met in Kelly Brackett's office prior to their trip to ICU. The answers to all
the questions he had asked the doctor about John Gage's injuries had been
recorded in the same small notebook he'd used the previous day when talking to
Chris and Jennifer.
Mark held his hand out to
Kelly. "Doctor Brackett, thank you for your time."
"You can thank me by
catching the guy who put one of my best paramedics in the hospital."
"Believe me, Doctor, I
want nothing more than to do just that."
Brackett turned his attention
to Roy as the trio walked toward the double doors.
"How are Chris and
Jennifer doing?"
Roy shrugged his shoulders.
"They're holding up, I
guess. They're both really worried about Johnny. Jen woke up screaming from a
nightmare about three this morning. She had dreamed John died and she was at
his funeral. Joanne's with them down in Doctor St. Clair's office right now. By
the way, thanks for the referral."
"No problem. I wanted him
to see the kids as soon as possible."
Roy wasn't surprised to see
Hank Stanley and the rest of the Station 51 A-shift in the waiting area when he
exited ICU. They were due back to work for a three day stint tomorrow. The men
no doubt knew this might be their last chance to see Johnny for a few days.
Detective Bellmen said a round
of final good-byes, then headed for the elevator. As Doctor Brackett and Roy
arrived at the waiting area Hank Stanley stood to plead his crews' case.
"Doc, I know only
immediate family is usually allowed to visit a patient in ICU, but..."
"Hank, I think you and
your men qualify as immediate family," Brackett smiled. "Or at least
I'm certain that's what Johnny would tell me. Go ahead. But two at a time
please, and limit your visits to ten minutes. I'm not sure if he can hear us or
not, but tell him you're there. Knowing he has your support can only
help."
The men nodded. Hank looked at
Mike and Marco.
"Why don't you two go see
him first. Chet and I will go in when you get back."
As the two firemen walked
toward the ICU doors Doctor Brackett looked at Hank.
"Did you get in touch with
Johnny's family?"
"I think so."
"Pardon me?"
"I called his father's
house last night. A woman answered the phone who identified herself as John's
sister Reah."
When Hank and Doctor Brackett
looked at Roy all the man could do was shrug.
"Like I said yesterday,
Johnny doesn't talk about his family much. I know his mother died suddenly of a
brain aneurysm ten years ago or so. And I know his paternal grandfather is
still living. But to tell you the truth for as talkative as Johnny is, this is
one subject he avoids. I've always assumed he and his father are estranged, but
why I have no idea. And as far as brothers and sisters go...well, he's just
never mentioned any. Up until right now I thought he was an only child."
Brackett was as confused as
everyone else by this information. He couldn't imagine the gregarious and
kind-hearted John Gage being estranged from anyone, let alone his own family.
He looked at Hank.
"So what did Johnny's
sister say?"
"When I asked to speak to
John's father she told me the man is out of town for the next ten days. I was
in the process of telling her Johnny had just gotten out of surgery when the
line went dead. I'm still not sure if she hung up on me or if we got
disconnected for some reason. I've been trying to call back on and off ever
since that time, which has been close to eighteen hours now, but I have yet to
reach anyone again."
Kelly Brackett chewed on his
lower lip. He wondered what the story was behind this situation Johnny
obviously wanted to keep private. Knowing that none of the men present had any
more answers than he did caused him to say, "Well, I hope someone from his
family contacts us. But if they don't, Johnny's got plenty of people right here
in L.A. who care about him."
Brackett smiled. "And here
comes one of those people now."
Roy turned to see Jennifer
running ahead of Joanne and Chris. She grabbed Roy's hand while looking up at
the physician.
"How's Uncle Johnny, Doctor
Brackett?"
The man waited for Chris to
join his sister before crouching down on his knees. "Johnny's hanging on,
kids."
Chris frowned. At age eleven
and a half he was old enough to realize when an adult's words were conveying no
information.
"Is he better than he was
when my dad brought him in yesterday?"
Brackett had to his smile at
the boy's persistence. He looked up at Joanne and Roy. They both nodded their
heads, indicating for the doctor to be honest with the children.
"No, Chris. He's not any
better."
"What about worse? Is he
worse?"
"He's running a fever. But
as I told your dad, I expected that. It's not unusual when someone's been
stabbed. We don't know how dirty that knife was, or what germs might have
worked their way into the wounds while Johnny was on the ground waiting for
help to arrive."
"So what are you doing for
him?"
"Christopher," Joanne
scolded. "Don't give Doctor Brackett the third degree."
The boy turned to look at his
mother. "But Doctor St. Clair said me and Jen should ask whatever
questions we have. So these are my questions."
"Don't worry about it,
Joanne," Kelly said. "Chris is right. He should be allowed to ask
whatever questions he has, and he should get honest answers."
Brackett took each of the
children by a hand.
"Kids, I'm doing
everything I can for your Uncle Johnny. So is every nurse and doctor who's been
assigned to him. Right now we're trying to get his temperature down while at
the same time keeping him sedated."
"My dad said you do that
so he won't feel any pain."
"That's right, Chris.
Johnny's body needs a chance to heal. The only way it can do so is if he's kept
quiet and is allowed plenty of rest. If he feels the pain then it interrupts
the sleep he needs. As well, the sedation keeps him from fighting the
ventilator."
"That's the machine that
helps him breathe?"
"Yes. But the tube that
goes down his throat is uncomfortable. And most patients don't like the feeling
of a machine forcing air into their lungs. So if we have to use the ventilator
we give the patient a sedative in order to keep them calm."
"When can the tube come
out of his throat?"
"When he's a little
stronger. Maybe in a few days. We'll just have to see."
Chris's eyes shifted to Roy.
"Did you get to see Uncle Johnny? Did he talk to you?"
"Yes, I saw Uncle Johnny.
But no, he didn't talk to me. Like Doctor Brackett said, he's sedated. Asleep.
And even if he was awake he wouldn't have been able to talk because of the
ventilator. The tube in his throat would prevent it."
Chris didn't like what he was
hearing. It sounded as though Uncle Johnny was a prisoner in his own body.
Chris knew he wouldn't want to be in a hospital bed, hooked to all the machines
and IV's his father told him about last night, and then not to be able to talk
either.
"What if Uncle Johnny
needs something? What if he starts to feel the pain and needs more medicine?
What if he gets scared and just wants someone with him? How's he gonna let
anyone know that?"
Doctor Brackett attempted to
calm the boy who was growing increasingly upset.
"Chris, like your father
and I already said, Johnny spends most of his time asleep. As for if he needs
something when he is awake, the nurses in ICU are excellent at figuring out
what a patient who can't talk wants. Most of them are friends of your Uncle
Johnny's. They'll know what to do for him, I promise."
Throughout this whole exchange
Jennifer had remained silent, simply absorbing the conversation going on around
her. She leaned into Roy's side. The sorrow in her murmured words was plain to
hear.
"I wish Uncle Johnny could
come home with us right now this very minute. I'd know what to do for him even
if he couldn't talk. I know he likes chocolate ice cream best, and Mom's
brownies, and ham sandwiches, and milk. He loves milk. White milk, but it's
gotta be cold. Really cold. And hamburgers, and hot dogs, and pizza, and
baseball. He likes to watch the Dodgers play. And he likes to wear blue jeans,
but they gotta be Wranglers. His favorite magazines are Wheels and Gears and
The American Quarter Horse. And I know he likes to read the newspaper from
front to back, but he always reads the comics first no matter what. Peanuts
makes him laugh out loud. He likes Snoopy best. Especially when he's fighting
the Red Baron. And the stars. Uncle Johnny loves to look up at the stars. He taught
me not to be afraid of the dark."
Doctor Brackett patted the
girl's back as he stood.
"Jennifer, we'll keep
praying that your Uncle Johnny can enjoy all those things with you soon. But
right now this is the best place for him. All his friends here at Rampart are
working very hard to try to make him well again."
The group's attention focused
on Marco and Mike as they walked out the swinging doors and past the young cop.
Neither one of them said anything as they claimed seats. Roy could see how
shaken up they were, and how hard Marco tried to give Chris and Jennifer a
brave smile.
We should have prepared them
for how Johnny looks. They probably had a vague idea, but still...it's
different when you're right in there with him.
Hank and Chet didn't need
any preparation. One glance at their colleagues' faces told them what to
expect. Captain Stanley turned to Chet. "Come on, Pal, let's go
see..."
Before he could finish Jennifer
gave a cry that startled everyone.
"Gray Wolf! Chris, look!
It's Gray Wolf!"
What or who a Gray Wolf was
none of the adults knew. Even Chris looked at his sister with open skepticism.
Everyone's eyes followed Jennifer's down the corridor.
Doctor Brackett placed the
slender, dark headed woman of approximately five feet five inches in height to
be in her late thirties. The white headed man who walked beside her didn't look
to be much over sixty-five, though Kelly had a feeling the elderly gentleman
hid his age well and might be as much as ten years older. He was still trim in
a way most men of his years weren't. Not even the slightest hint of a potbelly
marred his lean frame. He walked tall and straight, with a long, loose stride
that was somehow familiar though the doctor didn't know why. The man's hair
hung loose several inches beyond his shoulders, one thin section on the right
side of his head was marked off in a braid that was intertwined around a strip
of rawhide. His features spoke of nothing other than a fullblooded Native
American. He wore jeans, cowboy boots, and a blue chambray shirt with a rawhide
string of turquoise beads hanging around his neck.
Before Joanne could stop her
Jennifer took off running for the couple.
"Gray Wolf! You're Gray
Wolf! I'd know you anywhere! Uncle Johnny's told me all about you!"
The elderly man smiled. The
first hint of his advanced years came when he carefully crouched down on the
knees that were occasionally stiff with arthritis.
"And you must be Jennifer.
You're as pretty as Katori has told me."
Jennifer's eyes grew wide with
wonder. "Uncle Johnny's told you about me?"
"Many times, little one.
Many times. And about your brother, too. Christopher."
Jennifer turned and pointed to
the waiting area. "That's Chris right there. And my mom and daddy. And
Doctor Brackett, and Captain Stanley, and Chet, and Marco and Mike. They're all
Uncle Johnny's friends."
The old man's eyes traveled to
the strangers ahead of him. "Katori has spoken of them often. I'm glad my
grandson has such fine friends." Gray Wolf stood and indicated to Reah.
"Jennifer, this is my granddaughter Apani. She's Katori's older
sister."
"Is that your Indian name,
like Katori is Uncle Johnny's Indian name?"
The strong resemblance Reah
shared with her brother came through even more clearly when she smiled.
"Yes, Jennifer, it is. My
English name is Reah. You may call me that if you like."
"What does Apani mean?"
"It means Butterfly."
"That's beautiful."
"Thank you. Jennifer's a
beautiful name, too. I thought so from the very first time John mentioned you
to me." Reah took the beaming girl by the hand.
"Would you please introduce me and my grandfather to my brother's
friends?"
"Sure. Come on."
Jennifer led the way to the
waiting area. Admittedly, everyone present had to close their gaping mouths. By
far this didn't seem like an estranged family. As a matter of fact, based on
what Roy just overheard, it sounded as though Johnny had frequent contact with
his sister and grandfather.
After Jennifer had done her
duty as hostess, Roy held his hand out to Gray Wolf.
"It's nice to finally get
the opportunity to meet you, Mr. Gage. Johnny's spoken of you on several
occasions. It sounds like you were a big influence on him."
The Indian man shook the
offered hand. "Out of ten grandchildren Katori is my only grandson. He and
I spent much time together when he was a boy. And please, call me
Roderick."
"Or Gray Wolf,"
Jennifer added.
The old man smiled. "Or
that, too. Whichever you prefer."
Roy shook hands with Reah next.
"Miss Gage, nice to meet you as well."
"It's Reah. And thank you.
Though I wish the circumstances had been different, I'm glad to finally get to
meet you, too, Roy. John's told me so much about you and your family. He really
loves your kids." The woman's eyes moved to Joanne. "And he's forever
teasing me, telling me he's got a second big sister now who looks out for him
in the same way I always did. But then it takes more than one good woman to
keep track of my baby brother. The day he started walking was the day I started
chasing after him."
Joanne laughed. "I can
just imagine. If Johnny had half as much energy then as he has now you probably
never got a chance to sit down."
"Not on most days. Or so
it seemed anyway."
When the small talk drew to a
close Doctor Brackett indicated for the Gages to take a seat on the sofa. He
sat on the coffee table in front of them. Everyone else grabbed what seats were
available, Chet and Marco taking up residence against a soda machine once
again. Chet tried to keep from staring at Reah.
Geez, Gage's sister is a
knock-out. No wonder he never mentioned her. I wouldn't go around advertising
any sister of mine if she looked like that. Wonder if she's married? She
uses Gage as her last name, but now days that doesn't mean much.
Doctor Brackett's voice interrupted Chet's thoughts, and his search for a
wedding ring on Reah's left hand.
"I
hope you don't mind if we hold our discussion regarding Johnny's condition
right here. I'm going to need Roy's help, and Jennifer and Chris's as well, to
thoroughly explain everything."
Reah's brows drew together with
puzzlement, but she nodded.
"When Captain Stanley
called me I assumed John had been hurt on the job. You know, fighting a fire or
while involved in some other type of rescue. But..." the woman looked from
Roy's face to those of his children. "I get the feeling that's not the
case."
"No. It's not. So let's
start at the beginning." Brackett looked over his shoulder at the
paramedic seated behind him with Jennifer in his lap. "Roy?"
Roy started the story with
Johnny volunteering to take his children on a camping trip so he and Joanne
could celebrate their anniversary. With occasional input from Chris or
Jennifer, the tale of the tragic weekend was told. When Roy came to the part
about Johnny hiding Jennifer underneath his body while being beaten with billy
club he saw Reah grope for her grandfather's hand. Gray Wolf felt the delicate
fingers wrap around his knuckles that were large and weathered from years of
outdoor work.
"No," Reah murmured
in Waupun. "No, Grandfather, no. It's too much like last time.
Katori...no. He doesn't need this. It's not fair."
Gray Wolf responded as Reah
would have expected. His words were calm and laced with sound advice.
"Now is not the time to
worry about last time, Apani. Let us worry about this time. Let us hear how we
can help your brother and my grandson."
When the quiet conversation
between the pair ended Kelly Brackett picked up the story beginning with
Johnny's arrival at Rampart. He stopped when he'd finished updating the Gages
on John's current condition.
When the doctor was done Reah
began to pepper him with questions. Within seconds Brackett interrupted her.
"Miss Gage..."
"Please. It's Reah."
"Reah, based on the
questions you're asking I'd venture to guess you're in the medical profession
as well?"
"Yes. I've got a masters
degree in nursing. I'm a nurse/midwife on the Indian Reservation near my
home."
"I see," Brackett
nodded.
Before the doctor could say
anything further Reah returned to asking the man questions. This time his
answers were more detailed, and filled with more medical jargon than they would
have been if Reah hadn't revealed her background.
When Brackett was finished Reah
stood.
"Is it all right if my
grandfather and I see John?"
"Yes, that's fine. Ten
minutes for right now, though."
Joanne spoke. "When you
come back we'll take you to get something to eat. And if you'd like to stay at
Johnny's ranch we have a key for his house and keys for his vehicles.
Otherwise, you're more than welcome to stay at our home."
"Thank you for the offer,
Mrs. DeSoto," Gray Wolf said. "But neither Apani nor I want to impose
on you and your family. Katori's ranch will suit us just fine I'm sure."
"Call me Joanne,"
Roy's wife insisted. "If you prefer to stay at Johnny's that's quite all
right. I'm sure he'll feel better knowing someone is there. We'll take you to
his place after we've eaten."
"That's not necessary. We
arrived here by cab and left our luggage in a locker at the airport. We'll have
to return there before going to Katori's home. If you simply give us the keys and
directions we'll again call a cab."
"Taking you to the airport
will be no trouble. The two of you go see Johnny and let Roy and me handle the
chauffeuring duties."
The lines around Gray Wolf's
eyes creased deeper when he smiled.
"I always told Katori he
had a knack for picking friends. I can see that even in California, he has
chosen well."
"Johnny's been a good
friend to us, too," Joanne said. "More times than we can count. When
my husband's been sick or injured Johnny's always right there for me and the
kids, doing whatever he can to help out."
There was no mistaking the
pride in Gray Wolf's eyes.
"That's my grandson. He
always put others ahead of himself. Even when he stood no higher than my knees."
Roy watched Doctor Brackett
lead Johnny's sister and grandfather toward the ICU as Gray Wolf's words echoed
in his head.
He always put others ahead of
himself
The paramedic found them a
fitting tribute to his best friend, but in a very haunting way they also
sounded like an epitaph. By the long silence that filled the waiting area, Roy
had a feeling his wife and co-workers were having similar thoughts.
Chapter 26
Evan perspired under the
mid-afternoon sun as he scooped another shovel full of dirt. He paused a moment
and stood up straight. He pulled a red bandanna handkerchief from the back of
his pocket. He dabbed the sweat from his brow and wiped at the dampness that
was collecting on the bridge of his nose. He looked up through the thick trees.
Their vivid green leaves danced in the gentle spring breeze.
Evan
took a deep lung full of April air. He remembered days like this when he was a
boy. Days that promised the end of the school year and a long, lazy summer
weren't too far around the corner.
Poor little Carrie, Evan
thought as he resumed digging. She'll never again know what a spring day
feels like.
Evan felt no remorse for
what he'd done. His thoughts were simply a reflection of the facts. Carrie
Wrightman was one of his angels now. He couldn't wait until this job was done
and she could be another star on his map.
The man dug for ten more
minutes. He had no fear of getting caught. He was deep in a thick grove of
trees, far from the road and forty miles from the schoolyard where he'd
kidnapped Carrie. When his labor was finished he leaned the shovel against a
tree, then wiped the sweat from his face one last time before walking to the
Dodge. He fished his keys from the front pocket of his slacks and opened the
trunk. He bent down, scooping up a blanket wrapped bundle.
It
took little effort for the three hundred pound Evan to carry his burden to the
grave. The only thing that indicated he was cradling a child against his
massive chest were the roller skates hanging from beneath the blanket that had
never been removed from Carrie Wrightman's feet.
Kelly
Brackett indicated for Reah and her grandfather to precede him into Johnny's
room. The doctor stopped in the doorway in order to allow them time alone with
Johnny without him hovering over their shoulders. He glanced up when Roy joined
him.
"They're looking for you
down in the ER," Roy said quietly.
"Thanks. Do you mind
staying here until Reah and Mr. Gage are done?"
"No."
"Tell them they can call
me any time, with any questions they might have. Otherwise I'm sure I'll run
into them over the next few days."
"I'll tell them."
"Thanks, Roy."
Roy stood where Brackett had been, in the doorway of Johnny's room. He watched
as Reah approached her brother's bedside.
If
Chet had been present he would have immediately noticed there was no wedding
ring on the left hand Reah brought up to run through her brother's hair.
Mindful of the medical paraphernalia attached to Johnny she bent close to his
ear.
"John? John, it's Reah.
Pacachu and I are here, John. Captain Stanley called Dad's house and I just
happened to be there. Dad's in Washington, but we're trying to get in touch
with him. I know he'll get here just as soon as he can."
Reah felt tears well in her
eyes as she looked down at her brother's battered form. Reah's thoughts
mirrored those Dixie McCall had pondered on Sunday afternoon. That sometimes
being a nurse was both a curse and a blessing. Reah's knowledge regarding the
severity of John's injuries as described by Doctor Brackett was a double-edged
sword. On the one hand it meant seeing him like this was more heartbreaking than
frightening, on the other hand it meant she was well aware that losing her baby
brother was still a very real possibility.
Sometimes ignorance is, in
fact, bliss.
Reah felt her grandfather's
hands come to rest on her shoulders. While still stroking her left hand through
Johnny's hair she used her right to gently clasp the fingers peeking from his
sling. She watched his face for any sign of awareness.
"This isn't how I planned
for our reunion to be, little brother. Oh, John, why? Why do you have to be so
stubborn? How many times have I asked you to come home? Why in ten years
couldn't you have visited at least once? Or let us visit you? How many times
have we asked,....no begged, you to let us come see you? All of us. Me, Pacachu,
Dad. Oh, John, why?"
A soft voice interrupted Reah's
quiet ranting.
"Now is not the time to
scold, Apani. Now is the time to tell your brother you love him. The past is
the past. None of us can relive it, or go back and change decisions that were
made as a result of events that were too cruel for Katori to bear. He was
young, Apani. Just a young man who had lost so much in so short of a time.
Perhaps starting over in a new place, amongst new people, was the only way he
knew how to go on living."
Whether Reah agreed with her
grandfather was beside the point. The man was correct about one thing. Now was
not the time to scold.
Reah smoothed John's bangs back
from his forehead and placed a kiss on the warm skin.
"I'm sorry, John. I didn't
mean to get angry. It's not you I'm mad at, little brother. You know me, I just
have to blow off steam every so often. I love you, John. We all love you."
The tears Reah had been holding at bay now trickled down her cheeks. "I
met the guys you work with including Roy. He's a nice man. I'm glad you have
such a good friend. He's really worried about you, Trip. So worried. And little
Jennifer...well she's just as sweet as you've told me. Chris, too. I can see
why you're so crazy about them. They're counting on you to pull through this,
John. We're all counting on you."
Reah gave her brother's fingers
a final squeeze. It broke her heart when he didn't squeeze back, or indicate in
any way that he knew she was present.
"I'm going to move out of
the way so Pacachu can talk to you for a minute, then we have to go so you can
rest. Roy and Joanne are taking us to your ranch. We'll be back to see you
tomorrow. I expect you to open your eyes then and talk to me."
As much as Reah didn't want to,
she released Johnny's hand and stepped away from the bed. Gray Wolf took her
place. Roy watched as the old man bent over Johnny to talk directly in his ear.
What Johnny's grandfather was saying Roy didn't know, he never spoke a word of
English, but rather conversed with his grandson in his native language.
Roy had to admit he was
surprised by several things. First of all he never knew Johnny was bilingual to
this degree. Or at least he assumed Johnny was bilingual because it wouldn't
make much sense for Gray Wolf to speak to him in anything but English if he
wasn't. And secondly, this was the first time the paramedic had ever heard of
this mysterious incident in Johnny's past that had been spoken of between Reah
and Gray Wolf. He wondered what that was about.
It sounds pretty heavy. What
did Gray Wolf say? 'Events that were too cruel for Katori to bear.' What
events? And if they had something to do with Johnny leaving Montana why hasn't
he ever mentioned them to me?
Gray Wolf seemed to be able
to read Roy's thoughts. Reah preceded her grandfather and headed for the double
doors while swiping at the tears on her face. Gray Wolf paused as he passed the
paramedic and gave the puzzled man a small smile.
"It's not my place to
speak to Katori's friends of the past. If he has not chosen to tell you, it is
not because he doesn't trust you, or value your friendship, Roy, but simply
because he still hurts too much here." The man tapped his long, thick fingers
against Roy's chest. "Deep in his heart."
Roy hesitated a moment before
finally nodding. There was so much he wanted to ask, but he respected the old
man's words and kept his questions to himself. The paramedic cast one last
glance at Johnny, then followed Reah and Gray Wolf out of ICU.
____________________________________
Johnny
fought to open his eyes.
Reah?
He could swore he'd heard
his sister's voice, and then later his grandfather speaking to him in Waupun. He
tried to recall their words, but only snatches of conversation came to his drug
laden mind.
Oh, John, why?
Now is not the time to
scold, Apani.
I'm sorry, John. I didn't
mean to get angry. I love you. We all love you.
He felt someone wipe a cold
cloth over his face, but he ignored the ministrations. He wanted to talk to his
sister. He needed to find out what had happened. He needed to find out why he
hurt so bad, and why he couldn't talk, and why it took such effort to open his
eyes just a fraction of an inch.
Reah will know. She's a
nurse. She'll tell me what happened.
The woman recording
Johnny's vitals looked up as the ventilator alarm went off.
Kim! Oh, God, Kim! Kim, no!
Jessie! Jessie!
"Johnny! Johnny, calm
down. John, you're all right. You're at Rampart. Johnny, it's Theresa. Theresa
Zarletti. Calm down, Johnny. Calm down!"
The commotion brought another
nurse to the doorway. "Do you need my help?"
"No, just have Doctor
Brackett paged stat."
"All right," the
woman responded as she scurried to the nurse's station.
Johnny tried to focus his
thoughts but couldn't. One minute he was entering a house carrying a dark
headed little girl in his arms, the next minute he was hiding a blond headed
girl under his body.
Jenny! Jen! Jessie! Jess!
No! Please no!
The girls' faces blurred
together to become one in Johnny's mind. He knew they were both dead, and most
importantly he knew their deaths were his fault.
Oh, no! No. Please no!
Unbeknownst to the medical
staff who ran in and out of Johnny Gage's room over the course of the next hour
a floodgate had been opened within his mind and long suppressed memories burst
forth in one vivid shade.
Red.
The color of blood.
With
the exception of Roy DeSoto, Station 51's A-shift reported for duty on Tuesday
morning as expected. By now word of what had happened on the weekend camping
trip had traveled through the entire department. The A-shift crew spent more
time answering the phone, updating fellow firefighters on Johnny's condition,
than they spent getting anything else accomplished. Hank Stanley was actually
happy when they were called out to a fire at ten-thirty that morning. At least
it took their minds off Johnny for a while.
Roy and Joanne drove their kids
to school that day. Though Mark Bellmen had urged them to keep this event as
quiet as possible, he did suggest the school principal know what had occurred
so the staff could be vigilant of any strangers that might be hanging around
the grounds.
"Now remember,"
Joanne cautioned her children as they walked toward the front doors, "not
a word to anyone about what happened over the weekend. It's very important that
we keep this private for the time being."
"But what am I gonna tell
Mrs. Byron? Daddy said Uncle Johnny won't be well enough to talk to my class on
Friday."
Roy took his daughter's hand.
"I'll talk to Mrs. Byron right now."
"Okay." Jennifer
thought a moment, then asked, "Daddy, do you think Gray Wolf would talk to
my class?"
Roy and Joanne shared a smile.
There was no doubt Johnny's grandfather was an interesting man. He'd kept the
children spell-bound throughout dinner the previous evening. Later, as Joanne
and Roy were climbing into bed, Joanne had told her husband she could see where
Johnny got his charm from.
"I don't know, Jen,"
Roy answered his daughter now. "Gray Wolf's got a lot on his mind right
now, but I suppose you could ask him." The paramedic held up a warning
finger. "But, if he says no I don't want you to pout or nag. And don't say
anything to Mrs. Byron about him yet. For now I'm only going to tell her
something's come up and Uncle Johnny can't make it on Friday. There's no point
in promising Gray Wolf will speak to your class until you ask him."
"Okay."
Mr. Garfield, the principal at Spring Meadows Elementary School, was shocked to
hear the tale Joanne and Roy related to him that morning. He assured the
DeSotos he'd meet with his staff and make certain everyone understood the need
to keep a close eye on Jennifer and Chris.
Roy hated leaving his kids
behind in the school that day, but he knew he had no choice. They were ready to
go back. They had said so, and so had Doctor St. Clair. The paramedic had to
keep reminding himself of Mark Bellmen's words. That it was doubtful the
assailant would return to the area.
The bastard better not
return. If he does I swear I'll kill him with my bare hands.
Though they both found
household projects to get involved in, Roy and Joanne watched the clock that
day. It didn't seem like the hands were ever going to reach three, indicating
it was time to leave to pick up the kids. In-between his chores and clock
watching Roy called the hospital. He finally got to speak directly to Kelly
Brackett shortly after one. The look on her husband's face when he hung up the
phone told Joanne all she needed to know.
"Johnny's worse?"
"He's... yeah, he's going
downhill. His temp is one hundred and two.
He's yo-yoing from one extreme to another between being increasingly agitated,
to being totally unresponsive. His urine output has dropped, which could be as
a result of dehydration from the fever, or...”
"Or what?" Joanne
asked, not liking the ominous tone her husband's voice suddenly possessed.
"Or a sign of kidney
failure. He...his body just won't be able to fight all this, Jo. He's too weak.
He's just...too weak."
"Do you want to go see
him? I can pick up the kids by myself."
"Yeah, I wanna go see him,
but I'll wait until we get Chris and Jen. We promised them we'd go to Burger
King. There's no use in upsetting them any more than they have been. After we
eat I'll drop the three of you off here and then head to the hospital. Brackett
said Reah and Mr. Gage are there right now, so at least someone is with
him."
Joanne hugged her husband
around the waist. She laid her head against his chest.
"They're nice
people," she said softly. "Johnny's sister and grandfather I mean. I
wonder why he never talks about his family? Or why he never goes to visit them?
Or why they never come visit him?"
"I don't know. I..."
Roy thought back to what he'd overheard the previous evening. "Remember on
Saturday when you told me that you sometimes see sorrow in Johnny's eyes? A
sorrow that says he wants to have what we have, but he's afraid to go out and
get it for fear it will be taken away from him?"
"Yes,
I remember. You laughed at me."
"Well, I'm beginning to
think I shouldn't have." Roy placed a preoccupied kiss in his wife's hair.
"I'm beginning to think you're right."
Before Joanne could ask her
husband what he meant he walked out to the garage.
It was eleven o'clock on
Tuesday night as Brian Kessler stood over John Gage's hospital bed. He was
dressed in blue surgical scrubs with a white mask hanging around his neck.
Unlike Brian, Johnny no longer
had his hospital issued attire. His gown had been removed during one of Doctor
Brackett's visits that day. Because of his fever and the increased monitoring
the medical staff was doing it had never been put back on him. A sheet and
light blanket covered him to mid-stomach, from that point up he was naked.
"Geez, this poor guy looks
like he's on his way out. He'll be lucky to be alive tomorrow."
"Ssssh." A young
nurse put a finger to her lips. "He might be able to hear you."
"No shit?"
"Yes. It's not uncommon
even though the patient is sedated."
The newspaper reporter pushed
his dishwater blond hair off his face and leaned over the bed.
"Hey, Mr. Gage? Fireman
Gage?"
"Brian, what are you
doing?"
Brian looked at his girlfriend.
She was twenty-one and had only been out of nursing school three months, and
employed at Rampart just two.
"I'd like to ask him a few
questions."
"I already told you he's
not responsive. And even if he was, he couldn't talk because of the
ventilator."
"If I manage to wake him
up can you unhook it?"
"Brian! No! That could
kill him. Only his doctor can do that."
"Bummer." The
enthusiastic reporter for the Los Angeles Times thought further. "Could he
respond by blinking his eyes once for yes and twice for no?"
"I suppose. I've seen
patients do it before."
"Cool." Brian reached
out and shook Johnny's right shoulder. "Hey, dude! Hey, Mr. Gage? Fireman
Gage? Wake up there, man."
Cindy Medford grabbed her
boyfriend's arm.
"Stop it, Brian! You could
hurt him."
"By the looks of it he
can't feel a thing."
"Yes, he can. He has
responded to pain on and off since he arrived."
"So if I shake him hard
enough he might wake up?"
"Don't. You never told me
you were going to do this. You said you just wanted to see him. You said if you
got a look at him you'd be able to write a better story. So now you've had your
look. Let's go."
"Wait, wait." Brian
wriggled out of Cindy's grasp. "Look. He's opening his eyes."
"Brian, come on. This was
a stupid idea. I could lose my job if we get caught."
"We won't get caught. You
said the other nurses are tied up with patients and Sue's on break."
"Yes, but any one of them
could walk in here at any time. Mr. Gage,...they all know him real well.
They're always checking on him."
Brian ignored his girlfriend's
pleas. He bent over Johnny once again.
"Mr. Gage? Mr. Gage, my
name's Brian Kessler. I really need to talk to you, Mr. Gage. Can you tell me
what happened over the weekend? Can you tell me the name of the little girl the
kidnapper tried to take?"
Cindy watch with horror as the
numbers on the heart monitor rose. She'd overheard her colleagues talking and
knew Mr. Gage got upset each time someone mentioned the weekend incident in his
presence. Cindy had been warned not to bring it up, and had been told to assure
the paramedic, 'Jennifer's all right,' if he became agitated, even though the
meaning behind that phrase wasn't explained to the young nurse.
"Brian, please! Stop it.
He's getting upset. All we need is for the vent alarm to go off and then we'll
really be in trouble."
"Okay, okay. Just one more
thing."
Brian pulled a camera from
under his bulky scrub smock. He aimed it at Johnny's face and snapped three
pictures. He scurried around the bed, taking pictures of the paramedic from
every angle as he moved.
"Brian!" Cindy
screamed in a strangled whisper. "You can't use those."
The ambitious reporter smiled
as he tucked the camera back under his shirt.
"Babe, you worry too much,
you know that."
The young man once again tied
the mask over the lower portion of his face. This outfit had enabled him to
waltz right by the cop who was posted outside the ICU doors with no questions
asked. Undoubtedly it would get him back out of ICU just as easily.
"Look for my article on
the front page of tomorrow morning's paper, Cin. It's a sure bet this will get
me promoted to Investigative Reporter by the end of the day."
Cindy looked from her boyfriend
to the injured man in the bed. Mr. Gage's eyes were still open, though from
their cloudy appearance Cindy doubted if he understood what was going on around
him.
"Brian,...do you really
think you should do this?"
"Do what?"
"Write the article about
Mr. Gage?"
"Cin, you don't have to
call him Mr. Gage. The guy can't be more than ten years older than us, if he's
that."
"It doesn't matter. He
deserves the same kind of respect I'd give anyone I haven't been invited to call
by their first name."
"Sheeesh. They really did
a number on you in nursing school, didn't they, Miss Goody Two Shoes."
"Knock it off, Brian. All
I'm saying is by writing the article, and taking Mr. Gage's picture without his
permission, you're violating his privacy. Maybe you shouldn't be doing
that."
Brian put his hands on his
girlfriend's shoulders and gave a gentle squeeze.
"Look, Cindy, I understand
how you feel. I really do. I feel bad for the guy, too. Especially after the
story you told me about him protecting that little girl and all, getting
stabbed and beaten while keeping that scumbag from taking her. But the cops are
wrong. They're shutting us out on this one and that's not right. The only thing
that detective...Bellmen was his name, the only thing Bellmen let my editor do
was print a small piece that warned the public about a potential kidnapper in
the area along with a police artist's sketch of the guy. We were in the dark
about what was going on and it frustrated the hell out of Jim. All his sources
at the police station are keeping mum. It wasn't until you mentioned Gage over
dinner last night that I put two and two together."
"I wish I'd never said
anything," the young woman muttered, now regretting that she'd told her
boyfriend about the new patient she'd been assigned and what circumstances
brought him to Rampart. "I wish I'd never told you about Mr. Gage."
"Oh come on, Cin, don't
look so glum. This is great! It's the human interest angle that will hook
people right from the headline. How many people do you think notice one tiny
three paragraph article where the police are warning the public about a
kidnapper? Most probably read right over it while they drank their morning
coffee. But this," Brian spread an arm toward Johnny. "This is big
news. A fireman who's taken some kids camping on his weekend off and ends up
being a hero while at the same time he lays in the hospital fighting for his
life. Big news, Cindy! Big mother-honking news! Besides, the more people who
read it the better chance the cops have of catching the guy who put Gage here
in the first place. Think about the children this article might actually
save."
"Well, I guess if you put
it that way..." Cindy reluctantly agreed while glancing at her watch. She
knew Sue would be returning any moment and the first thing she'd do is come in
and check on Mr. Gage. "Go on. Get out of here before Sue gets back."
Brian kissed Cindy's cheek
through his mask. "You're wonderful. I love you. When I get my promotion
we'll finally be able to get married. Hell, we might even be able to buy a
house."
"Great. Just go."
The reporter tweaked his
girlfriend's nose, gave her a wink, then hurried out the door. Cindy held her
breath until she saw Brian exit the double doors that took him out of ICU.
She turned back toward the bed.
She didn't know how long she'd been staring at Mr. Gage when she felt a hand on
her shoulder. She jumped.
"Sorry, Cindy. Didn't mean
to scare you."
Cindy looked up into Sue's
hazel eyes. She forced a smile on her pale face
and shoved her shaking hands into the pockets of her uniform smock.
"That's okay."
Sue walked over to Johnny's
beside. "How's my favorite patient doing?"
"Huh...okay. He...his
heart rate rose a few minutes ago, but everything's back to normal now."
Sue frowned as she checked the
monitors and IV's. "What happened?"
"I don't know. He
just...he just seemed upset. But I did what Doctor Brackett instructed. I told
him Jennifer was okay. He was fine after that."
"Good." Sue shook her
head as she looked down at the paramedic who appeared to be sleeping.
"You're really giving us a run for our money this time, Johnny Gage. If
you don't start behaving yourself your sister and Dixie McCall are going to
move into this room permanently and keep watch over you twenty-four hours a
day."
"His sister?"
"She's a nurse, too. Flew
in from Montana yesterday afternoon. Nice gal, though not nearly as talkative
as her little brother."
"Oh. Well, if you don't
need me for anything else I'll take my break now."
"Sure. Go ahead."
Cindy was glad to find the
nurse's lounge empty. She sank into a chair and closed her eyes. She thought
about all the people who seemed to be good friends of Mr. Gage. Dixie McCall,
who had taught a class Cindy had taken on triage care. Doctor Early. Doctor
Morton. Most of the nursing staff. The formidable Doctor Brackett.
"Oh, Lord," Cindy
muttered as she rocked back and forth suddenly sick to her stomach. In her
mind's eye she could see the picture that would run on tomorrow morning's front
page.
"What have I done? What in
God's name have I done?"
Mike
Stoker backed Station 51's engine into her accustomed spot. It was twenty
minutes after seven on Wednesday morning. The men had been called out to a
small structure fire just as the first rays of light were streaking the sky.
The paramedic squad hadn't been summoned at that time, but it was gone now.
Chet and Marco climbed from
their seats in the rear of the engine at the same time Mike and Hank emerged
from its cab. The men shuffled to the nearby wall where they hung their
turn-out gear and helmets on a row of hooks. One by one their boots fell to the
concrete floor with hollow 'plunks.'
"Looks like Halstead and
Maloney got called out," Chet commented as they made their way to the
kitchen.
"Looks that way," Cap
agreed.
Brad Halstead and Salvador
Maloney were the paramedics on temporary duty at Station 51. After all that had
happened over the weekend Hank had insisted Roy take this shift off, and he'd
been backed up on that by the Battalion Chief. Not that Roy put up much of a
fuss when Cap gave him the news on Monday afternoon at Rampart. Hank knew Roy
wanted to stick close to his children this week, just like any father would
want to do given the circumstances. This also gave Roy the opportunity to be at
the hospital at a moment's notice should something change with his partner's
condition.
Mike Stoker's voice broke into
his Captain's thoughts.
"I'm on breakfast duty.
How does scrambled eggs, sausage and toast sound to everyone?"
"Fine," Marco replied
as he headed to the cabinet where Henry's dog food was kept. He filled the
dog's dishes with fresh food and water while Chet and Hank both nodded their
agreement to Mike's words.
Chet pulled out plates and began
setting the table while Hank turned for his office.
"I'm going to call Rampart
and get an update on John."
The men didn't say anything,
but Hank saw the shadows that crossed each of their faces. He'd talked to Roy
at ten o'clock the previous night. When the phone call came to an end it had
been Hank's job to enter the day room and tell his men Johnny had gotten worse
rather than better since he'd talked to an ICU nurse that morning. Cap knew
none of the veteran A-shift crew slept well that night. He found himself almost
envying Brad and Sal as he tossed and turned on his bunk. Yes, as fellow
firemen they were affected by the tragedy that had befallen John Gage, but not
with the depth of emotional involvement as Station 51's A-shift.
While Chet set the table his
eyes flicked to the glass on Cap's office door. He watched as Hank talked on
the phone, and saw a worried frown turn the corners of his mouth down. For
reasons Chet couldn't even explain to himself he suddenly felt the need to get
out of the building.
"I'll go see if the
paper's here," he announced to no one in particular.
Marco and Mike exchanged
glances as Chet hurried out of the kitchen. Maybe Chet didn't know why he had
the sudden urge to be out of the station house, but his friends understood
perfectly.
Marco washed his hands in the
sink, then opened a cabinet and reached for the loaf of bread. He put four
slices in the toaster while making a quiet observation.
"Chet's not going to deal
with it very well if Johnny doesn't pull through."
Mike gave a nod as he poured
his egg mixture into the warm frying pan. "I know. But then, are any of
us?"
"No, I suppose not. It's
only been a couple of days, but the station isn't the same without him. It's
too..." Marco paused as he tried to think of the right word.
"Quiet?" Mike
supplied with a small smile.
"Yeah, that's some of it.
Quiet and...I don't know, when Johnny's here he makes all of us laugh. Granted,
sometimes not intentionally, but he always has some zany story to tell. Or some
off-the-wall idea to share. Or he and Chet are going at one another like a
couple of brothers vying for their parents' attention. Or..."
Before Marco could finish Chet's
voice could be heard out in the engine bay.
"Cap! Hey, Cap!"
Hank Stanley was just stepping
from his office when Chet ran into the kitchen carrying the morning paper.
"Cap! Cap, you gotta see
this! I can't believe some asshole would splash this across the front page of
the paper."
"Whoa there, Kelly, calm
down. Splash what across the front page of the paper? What are you talking
about?"
Chet unfolded the paper and
turned it around so his co-workers got the full effect of the color picture on
the front page.
Mike's vehement,
"Goddammit," was so out of character for him that Chet was
momentarily stunned. Whatever Marco said he uttered in Spanish, though by his
tone of voice Chet guessed the phrase rivaled Mike's words.
Unlike
his men, Hank Stanley didn't swear. But then he didn't need to. Chet easily
recognized the fury shining from his eyes.
What's the reporter's name on
that story, Chet?"