NO EASY CHOICE

By:  Kenda

     *This story was inspired by Story Starter Number #7 as submitted to Tigger’s E! Site by Jean and Lisa.  Though I do not classify this as an alternate universe story, it does alter the Emergency timeline a bit.  It’s set in 1982, and rather than being station captains, Johnny and Roy are still partners at Station 51.

     Johnny sat alone in the dark nurse’s lounge.  He didn’t know why he’d turned off the overhead light.  He couldn’t remember doing it, but he must have.  Other than Hank Stanley for a few brief seconds, no one else had been present since Dixie brought him in here an hour ago, and Cap hadn’t turned the light on when he’d stuck his head in the door to speak with his paramedic.

     During periods of time when Johnny’s nerves wouldn’t allow him to remain seated he would walk over to the window and gaze at the parking lot.  It was still raining outside.  The drops bounced off the glass, reflecting like tiny jewels with the aid of the parking lot lights.  Anyone looking in wouldn’t be able to tell where the rain on the glass left off, and the trail of tears on Johnny’s face began.

     The paramedic shuffled back to the table where a cold cup of coffee awaited him.  Even though he’d tossed his turnout coat into the squad he still smelled like smoke.  The darkness outside reminded him it was late.  He should feel tired, but he didn’t.   Or at least he told himself he wasn’t tired.  He had no desire to fall asleep and risk dreaming about the events of tonight.  If he did, he knew he’d see Roy’s face again.  The horror of that sight had been bad enough the first time. 

     Johnny put his head in his hands and stared at the floor.  Did he do the right thing?   Did he make the right decision?  No answers were forthcoming. If Roy should die, he would have to tell Joanne.  Roy’s death would be his fault, and the responsibility of telling Roy’s family would fall on him.  Or would he have to tell Joanne her husband would never be the same?  Would he have to tell Chris his father could no longer go camping with him?  Would he have to tell Jennifer she’d attended her last Father/Daughter dance in February?  Would he have to tell John...good Lord his namesake was just three years old.  What the hell would he tell John?  That his daddy was never going to pitch a ball to him, or teach him how to ride a bike?  Maybe not be able to say his name or communicate with him?  Johnny knew those possibilities for Roy would be worse than death. 

     It’s my fault.  It’s my fault.  Whether he dies, or whether he lives with severe brain damage, it’s my fault.  It’s all my fault.

     Johnny heard the click of the doorknob turning.  A strip of light suddenly illuminated the room.  Out of the shadows he saw a woman’s form in white.  As his eyes adjusted he could tell it was Dixie.

     It didn’t surprise Johnny that Dixie McCall wasn’t going to allow him to sit in the dark.  As the door swung closed she hit the light switch on the wall, again causing him to squint for a few seconds.  He jumped from his chair and crossed the floor. He wanted to ask her how Roy was, but at the same time he didn’t want to know.  What he really wanted to do was turn back the clock.  Go back to supper at the station when they were all sitting around the table teasing Chet about something he could no longer recall.  Johnny did recall Chet pointing a finger at him and telling him the Phantom would get even. 

     Geez, Chet, if this is the Phantom’s idea of a prank it’s time everyone comes out laughing, agrees you’ve pulled another one over on Gullible Gage, and then we’ll   all go home. I don’t even think I’d be mad if only you guys would tell me this entire night has been some kind of elaborate practical joke.

     Dixie’s hand on his arm brought Johnny back to reality. No, of course this wasn’t a joke.  The look on Dixie’s face told him that much.

     Johnny tasted smoke when he tried to swallow the lump in his throat. 

     “How’s Roy?”

     The paramedic could hear the quiver in his voice and hated himself for it.  He knew he had to be a lot stronger than he was feeling right now if he was going to make it through the rest of this night. 

     “I don’t have an answer for you yet, other than to say they’ve got him stabilized for the moment.  His left arm is broken, though at this point it doesn’t look like surgery will be necessary.  He’s got three cracked ribs, and some internal bruising.  All in all he’s lucky as far as that goes.  Those injuries aren’t life threatening.  But the smoke. . .”

     Johnny nodded.  The smoke.  Roy had inhaled so much smoke.  And because of him, for so long.  Even in a house fire like the one they fought tonight smoke collects toxic fumes as it burns carpets, furniture, draperies, and walls. They weren’t really certain how long Roy had been without oxygen.  How long his air tank had been empty before Chet found him. 

     “He hasn’t regained consciousness then?”

     “No.  And his neurological responses are almost non-existent at this point.”

     Johnny took a deep, shuddering breath. He squeezed his eyes shut, but when he did all John saw was his partner’s death-like face as he hunched over him performing CPR in the ambulance.

     “Maybe I shouldn’t have even tried,” he muttered.

     “What?”

     Johnny opened his red rimmed eyes.  “Maybe. . .maybe death would have been better than the life he’ll have now.”

     “Johnny, you don’t know what kind of a life Roy is going to have now.  None of us do.  He might make a full recovery and--”

     “Or he might not.  I. . .I keep asking myself if I did the right thing.”

     “By working on him?  By bringing him back?” 

     Johnny could hear the shock in Dixie’s tone.

     “No.  I . . .Roy. . .the boy. . .I was the only paramedic on the scene.  I knew when I carried that boy out of the house he was going to die.  He was burned so badly, Dix.  I knew. . .I just knew.  But I had to work on him.  He still had a pulse.  It was my job to do everything I could.”

     “Of course it was your job.  And you did what anyone else in your position would have.”

     “But I knew Chet and Cap needed help with Roy.  I knew he had arrested, but I couldn’t stop working on the boy.  Maybe if I’d gotten an airway in Roy

sooner . . .but the boy’s brother and sister. . .they were standing there watching me.  Crying. . begging me to save their little brother . . .I. . .”

     The details Dixie knew about the house fire were sketchy at best.  The house had been huge, nothing less than a mansion she’d been told.  The father was involved in the movie industry in some capacity.  A producer or director someone had said.  He and his wife had gone out for the evening leaving their seventeen-year-old son in charge of his fourteen year old sister and eleven year old brother.  All three children were sleeping when the girl woke to the smell of smoke and the crackling of fire.  She and her older brother had fallen asleep in the sunken family room watching TV.  They managed to grab the family dog and get out of the house.  The eleven year old was up on the third story of the house in his room.  The stairs were already so engulfed in flames that his older siblings were unable to get to him, let alone rouse him.

     “Johnny, you did what you had to.  God left you few choices tonight.  You have to accept that.  You were the one who got to the boy first.  He was your responsibility.”

     “But I should have realized Roy wasn’t behind me.  I thought he was.  I thought he knew I’d found the kid.   I made a stupid rookie mistake.  The smoke was so thick.  I should have grabbed Roy’s coat to let him know I’d found the boy and we could leave.  He was standing right there in the hallway when I stepped from the boy’s room.  I thought he looked right at me.  But. . .but I guess I was wrong.  I’m trying to remember now and I’m not even sure if. . .God, Dix, I can’t even remember if he was really was looking at me.  Maybe his back was to me for all I know.  Maybe--”

     “Johnny, stop it!  Stop it now.  You’re second guessing yourself and you know as well as I do how detrimental that is in our professions.  You’re tired, you’re worried. . .just give yourself a break here, Johnny.  Just realize you did everything you could and quit berating yourself for the things you couldn’t.”

     “But what if one of those things would have saved my partner’s life?  Or would have kept him from living the rest of his life crippled by brain damage?”

     “We don’t know yet that either of those things are going to happen.”

     “Maybe not,” Johnny said as he turned away from the woman and crossed to the window once more,  “but they’re both a strong possibility.”

     Dixie had no reply for the paramedic because unfortunately, he was correct. She allowed the silence in the room to linger a full minute before breaking it.

     “Joanne and the kids just got here.  I put them in Kel’s office.”

     Johnny turned.  “The kids came with her?”

     “Chris drove her.  And I assume she didn’t want to leave Jenny and John home alone not knowing when she’d be returning.”

     Johnny nodded.  At thirteen Jennifer was now old enough to baby-sit John for a few hours at a stretch, but Joanne and Roy would never leave her and John alone throughout the night if sixteen-year-old Chris wasn’t going to be home as well.

     “Chris. . .God, where have the years gone?  To think he’s old enough to drive Joanne anywhere boggles my mind.”

     Dixie smiled.  She knew Chris had been five when Johnny and Roy teamed up as paramedics for the first time back in January of 1972.  Now it was November of ‘82, and the boy was just  a year and a half away from high school graduation.

     “I haven’t given them any details other than to let them know Roy is holding his own.  Both Kel and Joe are with Roy

so. . .”

     “So I need to talk to them.”

     “I thought you’d want to.”

     No, Dixie, this time I don’t want to.  This time I wish to God I didn’t have to.

     But Johnny knew the job was his.  Captain Stanley and the rest of the A-shift had left a few minutes ago to return to the station.  Cap had called a replacement in for not only Roy, but for Johnny as well.  Hank didn’t have to say anything for Johnny to know the man realized he was no shape to return to work.

Maybe Cap had seen the way Johnny’s hands were trembling, or maybe he’d seen the vacant look around Johnny’s eyes.  Whatever it was, Johnny appreciated the man’s thoughtfulness.  He doubted he’d ever work for a better guy than Hank Stanley.

     Johnny swallowed more smoke and nodded.  “They’re in Brackett’s office you said?”

     “Yes.  I carried a couple extra chairs in there, and had an aid bring down a few toys from Pediatrics for John.”

     Johnny smiled.  That was so like Dixie.  Rather than think of an active three old as an intrusion, she went the extra mile in order to make the vigil more comfortable for the little boy and his family. 

     “Thanks, Dix.  For everything.”

     “Hey, only the best for my two favorite paramedics, you know that.”

     That remark usually got a grin out of Johnny, but tonight it didn’t even earn the nurse the slightest of smiles.  It did; however, earn her a subdued kiss on the cheek as Johnny passed her on his way out the door.  For some reason on this night, Dixie would have rather been the recipient of the famous Gage grin.

___________________________________________

     Johnny had barely stepped in Brackett’s office before a bundle of energy launched himself across the floor.

     “Unca Johnny!  Unca Johnny!”

     The paramedic scooped Roy’s youngest child up and forced himself to smile.

     “Hey, Little Pally.  How’s my guy?”

     “I good.  I wearin’ my firemen ‘jamas.  Da ones you give me.  You see?”

     Although John had tennis shoes and socks on, he was dressed in his favorite pajamas that were white and adorned with bright red fire trucks.  Johnny knew Joanne must have gotten John out of bed after Captain Stanley called her.  For that matter, at this hour, more than likely the whole family had been awakened by the phone call.  But at least Chris and Jenny were old enough to throw some clothes on and assist their mother with whatever needed to be done before they rushed from the house.

     “Yeah, I see you’re wearing your firemen pajamas,” Johnny responded to the boy in his arms.

     John wrinkled his nose as he placed a kiss on his uncle’s cheek. 

     “You ‘mell like ‘moke, Unca Johnny.  And you wearin’ you clown pants.  Was you at a fire?”

     To John bunker pants were clown pants.  Johnny supposed the child made that association because of the baggy fit and the suspenders the firemen wore to aid in holding them up.

     “Yeah, Little Pally, I was.” 

     “Was my daddy dare, too?”

     Johnny refused to meet anyone else’s eyes when he replied,  “Yes.  Yes, John, he was.”

     “Where my daddy now, Unca Johnny?”

     John DeSoto wasn’t quite certain why his uncle gave him a long squeeze then, or why the man placed a kiss on top of his auburn head.  His mommy must have known the reason though, because her voice sounded funny when she said,  “Let Uncle Johnny sit down now, John.  He’s tired.  You come back over here and play with the toys Nurse Dixie got for you.”

     Johnny placed his young namesake on his feet.  The boy did as his mother requested and scampered to the middle of the floor where three Golden Books, a wooden train set, a handful of Matchbox cars, and a Playschool work bench were scattered about.  He got down on his knees, his attention immediately taken by the small metal cars just the right size for a three year old’s hands.

     The family had formed the chairs Dixie brought for them into a circle. Johnny grabbed a fourth chair from in front of Doctor Brackett’s desk and joined the circle. He sat down and scrubbed a hand over his eyes.  They burned from fatigue, smoke, and unshed tears.

     Johnny didn’t realize how much his actions, and demeanor, were scaring Roy’s family.  Jennifer and Chris exchanged wide eyes looks while Joanne questioned, “Johnny?  Johnny. . .Roy?  Is he. . .”

     The paramedic dropped his hand.  His gaze took in Roy’s two oldest children and Joanne.

     “He’s alive, Jo.”

     Chris took his Mom’s hand as she whispered a heart felt, “Thank God.” 

     The woman took a moment to compose herself, then resumed her questioning of her husband’s partner.

     “How badly is he hurt?”

     “His left arm is broken, though Dix doesn’t think surgery will be necessary. He’s got three cracked ribs and some internal bruising.  Something must have fallen on him, but what I don’t know.”

     “You weren’t with him?”  Joanne asked, though the question held no accusation.

     “No.  I. . .there was a boy. . .an eleven year old boy who had been trapped in his room.  I was taking care of him outside.”

     Joanne put on a brave face for her children and did her best to sound up beat.

     “Well, if a broken arm, some bruising, and a few cracked ribs are the worst of Daddy’s injuries then we can be thankful.  He won’t be feeling the best for a while, but we’ll take care of him and pretty soon he’ll be as good as new.”

     “Remember when I broke my arm, Uncle Johnny?”  Jennifer asked. “You took me for ice cream after I got my cast on.”

     John looked up from where he was playing with the toys.  “I help take care of Daddy, Unca Johnny.  I big boy now!”

     “How long do you think Dad will be in the hospital, Uncle Johnny?”  Chris asked.  “Will he be home by the weekend?  I’m supposed to go to a basketball clinic on Saturday, but if Dad won’t be home I’ll tell my coach I have to stick around so I can help Mom.”

     Without thinking about how his actions would be perceived by Roy’s family, Johnny leaned forward in his chair and buried his head in his hands.

     Oh, God.  Oh God oh god oh god.

     “Johnny?”

     The paramedic reluctantly brought his face out of his hands.

     “That’s not all is it?  There’s more?  Something else you’re not telling us.”

     Johnny hated the fear he heard in Joanne’s voice, and the fear he saw in the eyes of Chris and Jennifer.

     “I. . .Doctor Brackett and Doctor Early will be in to talk to you as soon as they can.”

     “Why?  What else is wrong?”

     “Roy. . .he was without oxygen for a while.”

     “How long is a while?”

     “I don’t know, Jo.  I. . .I don’t know.  But. . .”

     “But what?”

     “He arrested twice.  Once at the scene, and once in the ambulance on the way here.”

     “Arrested?”  Jennifer looked at her mother. “What’s that mean?”

     When Joanne didn’t answer Johnny found his voice.  He leaned sideways and took the girl’s hand in his.

     “It means his heart stopped and he quit breathing, Jenny Bean.”

     “And?”

     “And, depending on how long he was without oxygen it means . .it means his brain might have been damaged.”

     “Damaged how?”

     “Jen, I can’t say for certain.”

     “Yes, you can.  You’re a paramedic.  You know the answers to my questions.”

     “Jennifer,” Joanne scolded with just that one word.

     The girl was immediately contrite.  She’d been the same age as John was now when Uncle Johnny started working with her father.  She didn’t remember a time when he wasn’t part of their lives.  He was one of her favorite people, and someone she’d never intentionally hurt.

     “I’m sorry.  I just. . .please, Uncle Johnny, I just need to know.  I’m not a little kid anymore.”

     “No, sweetie, you’re not.  As a matter of fact you and Chris are growing up a lot faster than I want either of you to.”  Johnny waited for a nod from Joanne before continuing.  “The term ‘brain damage’ encompasses a lot of possibilities.  Sometimes it’s as simple as someone having occasional memory problems.  Like forgetting a friend’s phone number or where they laid a book.”

     “Grandma DeSoto does stuff like that all the time.” 

     “Yes,” Johnny nodded.  “Some memory loss is a natural part of the aging process.  It’ll happen to all of us.  But sometimes, when the brain suffers an injury or is deprived of oxygen, memory loss can happen a lot sooner than it normally would.”

     “That wouldn’t be a big deal,” Chris said.  “If Dad forgets some things I mean.  Me and Jen are always helping Grandma find her glasses.”

     “No,” Johnny smiled slight at the boy’s words,  “it probably won’t be a big deal if your dad forgets some minor things like that every so often.  But. . .but sometimes brain damage can be a lot more severe than that.  Sometimes the person will have large portions of their memory missing that they’ll never get back.  Similar to amnesia.  Sometimes the ability to do certain things. . .like tie your shoes or brush your teeth will be gone.  Sometimes the ability to speak clearly will be effected.  Sometimes. . .well sometimes it’s even worse than that.”

     “How much worse?”  Chris asked in a voice that sounded just like Roy’s.

     “Chris, maybe it would be best if we wait until the doctors talk to us.”

     “No.  I wanna know how much worse.  Me, and Jen, and Mom. . .we need to be prepared.”

     “Go ahead, Johnny,” Joanne said softly.  “You can tell them.  They’re both old enough now to understand.”

     Johnny found himself wishing Chris and Jennifer weren’t both old enough to understand.  He found himself wishing they were little like John.  Little, and innocent, and engrossed in play, and too young to be forced to bear the worries of the adult world.   But that was no longer the case.  They were teenagers and deserved to be told the truth.

     “Your dad. . .your dad might end up an invalid.”

     “What’s that mean?”  Jennifer asked, though she had a feeling she knew.

     “It means. . .it means his ability to function on a adult level will be greatly impaired.  It means he might need the kind of help John needs to do things we all take for granted as we get older such as dressing ourselves, tying our shoes, feeding ourselves, walking--”

     “Walking?  He won’t even be able to walk?”

     “Jen, I don’t know.  I’m just telling you what could happen.  Your dad might not suffer from any of those things.  He might even be home in time for Chris to go away to his basketball clinic this weekend.”

     “But you don’t think so,” Chris surmised.  “You think the doctors are gonna give us bad news.”

     “I. . .Chris, all I’m saying is that there’s a lot of possibilities here.  There’s no use jumping to conclusions at this point.”

     “Uncle Johnny’s right, kids,” Joanne said with every ounce of bravery she could muster. “Jumping to conclusions will get us nothing but a lot of needless worry.  We’ll just have to wait now until the doctors come talk to us.”

     Johnny gave Jennifer’s hand a final squeeze then leaned back in his chair.  He closed his eyes, wanting nothing more than to block out the upset faces surrounding him.

     I wish it was me. It should have been me.  Roy’s got a wife and children.  It’ll be my fault if they have to go on without him.  Or if Joanne has to go forward with, for all intents and purposes, a fourth child.  If that happens how will they ever make ends meet?  His care will be so costly.  Disability pay will never be enough to cover their bills and raise three kids.

     Johnny startled when he felt someone climb into his lap. 

     “I wike ‘dis book, Unca Johnny.  You weed to me?”

     “John, no,” Joanne said as she rose to retrieve her youngest son.  “I already told you Uncle Johnny is tired.  He had a long day at work.  Now I want you to go back over there and--”

     “He’s okay, Joanne,” Johnny reached down and stroked a hand through John’s soft hair that smelled of baby shampoo.  “He can stay here.”

     “Are you sure?”

     “I’m sure.”  Johnny opened the Golden Book that detailed life on a farm.  “How about if we look at the pictures, John?  You tell me what these animals are and what sounds they make.”

     “I can do dat.  I can do dat real good.”

     “Then prove it to me.”

     Listening to John rattle off the names of animals while imitating their sounds was just the type of mindless activity Johnny needed while he waited word from Roy’s doctors.

     Johnny wasn’t sure how much time had passed when Doctor Brackett and Doctor Early finally stepped into the room.  He knew John had grown bored with the farm book and exchanged it for one about a little boy taking his first trip to the barber shop. He was aware of Chris getting up from his chair and pacing the room in a way that made him seem far older than his sixteen years. He also knew Jennifer and Joanne were talking quietly, but the paramedic’s mind was full of too many worries to really focus on these activities.           

     Johnny had long thought Joe Early missed his calling as a doting grandfather.  The doctor immediately stooped in front of Roy’s youngest child who still sat on Johnny’s lap.

     “Well, who’s the handsome young man who came to visit us tonight?”

     “Hi, Docor Early.  Is me.  John.  John DeSoto.”

     “Hello, John DeSoto.  You get bigger each time I see you.”

     “I know.  I be big as Unca Johnny soon.”

     “Yes, I bet you will be.  And I also bet I know what a big boy like you could use right about now.”

     John’s eyes lit up.  “A canny bar?”

     Doctor Early laughed.  “Now how did you know that was exactly what I was going to say?”

     “ ‘Cause I berry smart.”

     Again, Joe laughed as he fished in his back pants pocket for his wallet.

     “John, you’ve got a lot of your Uncle Johnny in you.”

     Joanne smiled her agreement. 

     “Yes, Doctor Early, as odd as it seems he does.  From his energy, to his charm, to his quirky sense of humor.”

     John titled his head and looked up into Johnny’s face.

     “Dey talkin’ ‘bout us, Unca Johnny?”

     Johnny gave the boy a soft smile.

     “Yeah, Little Pally, I think they are.”

     “Dat’s otay, ‘cause we’re bestest bubbies, wight?  An bestest bubbies stick ‘gether.”

     Once again, Johnny ran a gentle hand through his namesake’s soft, straight hair.

     “Yeah, John, we’re best buddies.”

     Doctor Early stood and turned to Jenny.  He handed the girl a ten dollar bill.

     “Jenny, why don’t you take John down to the cafeteria.  I’m sure you’re both hungry.  Your midnight snack is on me.”

     Jennifer wanted to tell Doctor Early she wasn’t a little girl any longer and shouldn’t be dismissed from the room, but she’d been taught to respect adults.  She turned pleading eyes to her mother.

     Joanne gave her daughter an understanding smile, but nonetheless reiterated Joe Early’s request.

     “Please take your brother to the cafeteria, honey.  The doctors need to talk to me and Uncle Johnny without an active little boy in the room.”

     “But--”

     “I’ll tell you everything when you get back.”

     “Everything?  Promise?”

     “Yes, I promise.  Everything.”

     Jennifer gave a quiet, “Thank you,” to Doctor Early as she accepted the money he handed her.  She held a hand out to her baby brother.

     “Come on, John.  Let’s go.”

     “Unca Johnny comin’, too?”

     Johnny lifted John from his lap and set the youngster on his feet.

     “No, Little Pally, not this time.  You go with your sister.  I’ll see you later.”

     “Otay.”

     John willingly took Jennifer’s hand.  Johnny gave his ‘best girl’ a smile.

     “Thanks, Jenny Bean.”

     Despite how scared she was for her father, Jennifer couldn’t help but smile in return.  She’d always felt so special whenever Uncle Johnny called her Jenny Bean, just like she imagined Chris felt when Uncle Johnny called him Sport, and  how John felt when Uncle Johnny called him Little Pally.  Uncle Johnny was a great guy.  Jennifer’s mom had always said he could light up a room by just entering it, and over the years the girl had come to learn that was true. 

     Jennifer felt Doctor Brackett give her a gentle pat on the back as she passed him, and saw his hand briefly caress the top of John’s head.  Those actions alone from the normally reserved doctor made the girl certain the men had brought bad news.  As much as she didn’t want to leave, Jennifer knew her father would expect her to take care of John if that’s what her mother asked of her.  So for her beloved daddy, Jen exited the office with her little brother in tow.

     Once the door closed the doctors crossed the room.  Chris reclaimed the chair he’d been seated in, while Doctor Early sat in the one Jennifer had just vacated.  Kelly Brackett made a detour to his desk.  He wheeled his chair over to the circle and stopped it in the spot Johnny made for the doctor between himself and Joanne.

     As subtly as he could, Chris DeSoto wiped his sweaty palms on the thighs of his blue jeans.  Just the fact that he hadn’t been dismissed from the room with Jennifer and John indicated to him these two doctors his father had worked with for so many years no longer viewed him as a boy, but rather as a young man.  Chris appreciated the respect they were giving him, as well as the respect his mother and Johnny were giving him by not suggesting he wait out in the hall.  His eyes flicked to Brackett’s face, and in that brief moment Chris knew the man was bringing them bad news.  He took a deep internal breath and willed himself to be strong.

     I gotta keep it together for Mom.  I gotta be strong like Dad would want me to be. I can’t cry like a little kid, or even get choked up.  If they think I can’t handle what they’re gonna tell us they’ll make me leave the room.  I know they will.

      Kelly Brackett’s eyes traveled to each of the faces in the room before he began to speak.

     “I assume Johnny has already told you the basics about Roy’s physical condition?”

     Joanne nodded.  “He said Roy’s left arm is broken, and that he’s got three cracked ribs and some internal bruising.”

     “That’s correct.  An orthopedic surgeon will look at the X-rays of Roy’s arm in the morning, though I’m doubtful surgery will be required.  For now, we have the arm in a soft cast.  If Doctor Murphy comes to the same conclusion I have, then the arm will be set and casted tomorrow.  We’ve taped his ribs, and as far as the bruising goes, time and rest will take care of that.”

     “Johnny said. . .,”  Joanne’s eyes touched on her husband’s partner, but he refused to look at anything but the floor. “Johnny said Roy was without oxygen for an undetermined amount of time.”

     “That’s correct.”

     “So how much damage was done?”

     Joe Early took over the conversation at this point.

     “It’s too soon to tell.  We’ll be doing a CAT scan, and running other tests.”

     “But shouldn’t Roy’s reactions right now. . .his reactions to the two of you and his surroundings, give you some indication of whether or not brain damage occurred?”

     Doctor Early knew of no way to break the news gently. 

     “Joanne, Roy’s responses are minimal at best right now.  He’s in a coma.”

     Joanne’s left hand flew to her mouth while Chris reached over to grasp her right.  The boy’s eyes were as wide and frightened as his mother’s.  Chris had been an avid reader since he was eight years old.  He devoured everything from books, to magazines, to the daily newspaper.  He knew what the term ‘coma’ meant, and what the long range implications could be.  For all his resolve not to show weakness, he couldn’t keep the tears from welling up in his eyes as he looked at the men seated across from him.   He wondered briefly why Johnny was sitting there so calm and stoic.  Like the news that his best friend was in a coma didn’t effect him in the slightest. But before Chris could give that thought further consideration he tuned into his mother’s words as she began to fire questions at the doctors.

     Most of the answers Doctor Brackett and Doctor Early gave Chris’s mother in return were non-committal at best.

     No, they didn’t know when Roy would come out of the coma.

     No, they didn’t know to what degree he might be impaired.

     Yes, it was true that the longer he remained in the coma further neurological functions would be threatened.

     Chris wondered why Johnny didn’t jump in and help his mother out.  After all, Johnny had almost as much medical knowledge as the doctors.  Surely, there were some questions he could ask on Chris’s mother’s behalf.  Or maybe some comfort he could offer her rather than just sitting there staring at the wall as though he wasn’t even in the room with them.

     I don’t get it.  It’s like Uncle Johnny is spaced out or something.  The other times Dad’s been hurt I’ve always heard Mom say what a big help Uncle Johnny was to her while she waited for word from the doctors, and what a big help he’s been when it comes to explaining what’s happening.  But he’s just sitting there like he’s on drugs or something.  Like he doesn’t even care that my father might never do anything for the rest of his life but lay in a damn hospital bed.

     Chris brought his mind back to the conversation when Doctor Brackett spoke again.

     “Joanne, from here on out you’re just going to have to be patient.  A comatose state can also be a very unpredictable state.”

     “So what you’re saying is Roy could still die?”

     “What I’m saying is, you and the kids will have take things one day at a time in regards to Roy’s condition.  He could come out of this coma in a day or two with very few consequences, or--”

     “Or he might not.”

     “That’s correct,” the doctor confessed.  “He might not.”

     Despite her intentions not to break down in front of her son, Joanne started to cry then.  Chris leaned sideways in his chair and pulled his mother to his chest.  He expected to see Johnny stand up and come over to them. He expected to feel Johnny’s arms around both of them, but that didn’t happen.  Just when Chris needed the man the most he’d called ‘Uncle Johnny’ since he was five, the paramedic stood and left the room.

     Chris heard Kelly Brackett beckon, “Johnny?”, but the doctor received no reply except the quiet closing of his office door.

     The teenager wondered what it all meant, and why the man his father loved like a brother had just walked out on them.    

__________________________________

     Terence Weber pushed open the double doors of Rampart’s morgue and stumbled into the hallway.  He slumped against the wall, barely noticing the coolness of the concrete against the side of his face.  He took deep breaths in order to overcome the urge to vomit.  Weber was one of the most respected and powerful producers in Hollywood.   He wasn’t accustomed to losing control of his life’s circumstances.  Weber scrubbed a trembling hand over his face, then loosened his maroon tie.

     Oh Lord.  Oh Lord no.  Matthew.  How can Matty be dead? We only went out for dinner.  Only did what we’ve done a thousand times before.  Went out to dinner and left the kids alone for a few hours.  Shawn’s old enough to handle anything that comes up.   Dammit!  A fire. Who would have ever thought about a fire?  How many times did we tell the kids not to open the door if anyone knocked, not to tell anyone who called that we weren’t home, not to leave the house while we were gone, not to invite friends over when no adult is present.  But a fire?  Did we ever tell them what to do in the event of a fire?

     Somewhere in Terence Weber’s mind, he was certain he’d had this discussion with his children.  Certain he and his wife had always told them material things could be replaced, but lives couldn’t be.  Therefore; the children only had one priority if a fire started in their home and that was to get out.  Which is exactly what Shawn and Melissa did, but Matthew. . .Matty was asleep on the third floor in his room at that back of the mansion.  He never stood a chance of getting out without help.  

     Shawn said a paramedic carried Matty out of the house.  Not just a fireman, but a goddamn paramedic.  If he’s so skilled why couldn’t he save my boy?   Why?

     Terence startled when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

     “Dad?”

     The man looked into the tear filled eyes of his oldest son. 

     “Dad, did you. . .?”

     Terence swallowed hard.  “Yes, Shawn.  Yes.  I did what I had to.  I. . .I identified your brother’s body.”

     Terence kept the remainder of his thoughts to himself.

     What little there was left of it.

     The man rubbed a hand over his face again.  He felt every one of his forty-five years at this moment and then some.

     “Your mother and Melissa, where are they?”

     “Peter’s here.  He took them to a waiting area in the Emergency Room.”

     “Good,” Terence nodded as he pushed himself away from the wall.  He put an arm around his son’s shoulders as they walked toward the elevator.  Peter Kennedy had been a life long friend.  He was the first person Terence had called upon arriving at Rampart with his wife Gretchen.

     It was after the elevator doors closed that the facade of manhood Shawn had been precariously clinging to since the moment he and Melissa escaped the fire finally dissolved.  The boy’s shoulders curled into a ball of misery as his knees gave out from under him.  His face crumpled and sobs wracked his body. If his father hadn’t caught him, Shawn would have fallen to the elevator’s floor.

     “Why?”  The boy sobbed as he was pulled into the warmth of his father’s broad chest.  “Why did he die?  Why couldn’t they get him out sooner?  Why couldn’t I get him out?   Why?”

     “Shawn, don’t.  Don’t do this to yourself, son.  Matty’s death isn’t your fault.”

     “That. . .that paramedic. . .he worked on Matt.  He told me. . .told me and Melissa that Matt was gonna be okay.  Why. . .why did he lie to us?  Why?”

     “I don’t know, Shawn.  I don’t know.”

     “I. . .maybe he didn’t try hard enough.  They brought someone. . .someone else out.  Another fireman.  I. . .the paramedic kept looking at him.  Looking at him like he wanted to leave Matt to help the fireman instead.  Maybe. . .Dad, I don’t think he cared about saving Matt.  I think. . .I think all he cared about was his friend.”

     “I’m sure that’s not true, Shawn.  I’m sure he did the best he could.”

     “No,” the boy shook his head and lifted it from his father’s chest.  “No, Dad, I really think he could have saved Matt if he’d only tried harder.  Honest I do.”

     Terence Weber fought to control the fury Shawn’s words inspired.

     Did the guy really give one hundred percent to helping Matthew, or is Shawn right and was he too concerned about another fireman to give my boy his full attention?  If I find out this so-called paramedic is a screw up who let my little boy die so help me God he’ll come to regret the day he was born.

     Shawn’s sobs had only increased by the time the elevator came to the Emergency Room.  Terence knew it was going to be difficult enough to face his wife and daughter without Shawn being a complete wreck, too.  He steered the boy off the elevator and towards the men’s room.

     “Come on, Shawn.  Let’s give you a chance to collect yourself and wash your face before we take your mom and sister home.”

     Shawn continued to cry as they made their way to the bathroom.  Terence could only hope that at this late hour the men’s room would be deserted so he and Shawn could grieve in private.  

____________________________________

     If John Gage could have drowned himself in the bathroom sink of the ER’s men’s room that night he would have seriously contemplated that act.  He leaned over the white porcelain, repeatedly cupping cold water in his hands and splashing it on his face.  What he thought that frigid water would do for him Johnny wasn’t certain.  Take him back in time and change the happenings of the night?   Somehow give him the power to make the events of the evening nothing but a bad dream?  Or simply take away the redness surrounding his weary eyes that he knew must broadcast both his guilt and heartache.  

     An eleven-year-old child is dead because I couldn’t do enough for him.  My partner might as well be dead because I couldn’t do enough for him.  What good was I to anyone tonight?  Why did God, or fate, or whoever controls the happenings of the universe, even send me there if I couldn’t be of help to either Roy or Matthew?

     Johnny looked up from his bent position over the sink when the door opened.  He didn’t recognize either the man or teenager who just entered.  He grabbed two paper towels from the dispenser and wiped his face dry.  He barely paid attention to the man’s words as he encouraged the boy to do what Johnny had just finished doing - bend over a sink and splash cold water across his face.

     It was as Johnny straightened that Shawn Weber caught sight of him in the mirror.  He gave an inarticulate cry, then whirled and pointed an accusing finger.

     “That’s him!  That’s the man who let Matty die!  That’s him, Dad!”

     Before Johnny could say any of the words running through his head which ranged from “I’m sorry,” to “I wish I could have done more,” the hot headed Terence Weber was on him. 

     “You son of a bitch!”  The man screamed as the weight of his body slammed the surprised Johnny against the wall.  The paramedic’s head made painful contact with a sharp corner of the towel dispenser.  “You incompetent son of a bitch!  You let my boy die! You killed him!  Do you hear me?  You killed him!”

     The man’s cries echoed off the bathroom walls.  Hands gripped Johnny’s white undershirt, then his head was repeatedly slammed against the ceramic tiles.

     “You loser!  You son of a bitch!  Do you know what you’ve done to my family?  To my wife?  I just had to identify my little boy’s body!  There’s nothing left of him but a few scraps of his pajamas!  How would you like to have to ID your child by his goddamn pajamas?”

     Johnny couldn’t have answered if he’d wanted to. He felt himself begin to lose awareness as blood ran down the back of his neck to pool between his skin and undershirt.  He kicked his legs, trying to buck the man off him, but Weber’s rage was too great.  As Johnny lost his battle to stay conscious, the last words he heard were choked out between heart-breaking sobs.

     “My boy.  My boy.  My little boy.  Do you know what you’ve done to my little boy?”

____________________________________

     The doctors had finished talking to Joanne and Chris DeSoto.  The teenager had been sent by his mother to look for Johnny.   Though Chris was still mad at his Uncle Johnny for walking out of the room before Doctors Brackett and Early were done, he did as his mother asked.  He checked by the coffee machine at the nurse’s station first.  When he didn’t see the paramedic there nor sitting in the waiting area, he decided to try the restroom.

     I guess if he’s not here he might be with Jen and John.  Or maybe he snuck up to ICU to see Dad.  If he’s not any of those places then Mom’s just gonna have to look for him herself.  I don’t know why he left anyway.  He acted like he didn’t even want to hear what Doctor Bracket or Doctor Early had to say.

     Chris heard the shouting before he even pushed open the men’s room door.  He entered, but stopped abruptly when he rounded the corner of the partial wall only to see Johnny being attacked by a man Chris didn’t know.  Chris took note of the other teenager in the room who looked as shocked and bewildered as he himself did.

     “Stop it!” Chris hollered as he ran to help Johnny.  He gripped the man by the shoulders and tried to pull him off the unconscious paramedic.  “Get off of him!”

     “My boy!  My boy!  He killed my boy!  This incompetent fool killed my child!”

     “Stop it!  Leave him alone!  You’re hurting him!”

     Chris’s hands on his shoulders only caused Terence to fight harder to retain his hold on Johnny.  Chris realized then he needed help.  He ran for the door and yanked it open.  It was one o’clock in the morning.  Not the best time to try to find help in much of any place.

     The teenager’s eyes finally fell on the white coat of a man headed the opposite way down the long corridor.

     “Doctor Brackett!  Doctor Brackett, help!  Someone’s beating up Uncle Johnny!”

     Kelly Brackett spun around.  One look of Chris’s terrified face told the man this wasn’t a joke.  He ran towards the men’s room, only stopping long enough to pick up a red wall phone and say, “I need security to the ER men’s public bathroom stat.”

     The doctor slammed down the phone and resumed his sprint.  He pushed past Chris, and like the teenager had been, was momentarily stunned by the sight before him.  Blood stained the white tiles red as Johnny’s upper body was pounded against the floor.

     “Let go of him!” Brackett ordered as he grabbed Terence Weber by the upper arms. “Let go!”

     Chris joined in the fray, helping Kelly to pull the struggling man off Johnny.  They dragged him away from the injured paramedic just as two burly security guards burst in the room.  They took custody of the man, immediately flipping him around and handcuffing him when he refused to cooperate.  The entire scene was too much for Shawn.  He started sobbing again.

     Kelly Brackett looked from the white faced Chris, to the hysterical Shawn, to the bleeding John Gage.  At this moment he had more on his hands than he could take care of alone.  He ran to the door and hailed a passing nurse. 

     “I need some help in here, Karen!”  The doctor caught site of an orderly.  “Jim, get a gurney and bring it here.”

     Though Karen had no idea what was going on, she immediately took charge of Shawn.  As she led the crying teenager from the room she saw Dixie McCall coming off the elevator.

     “Dixie, Johnny’s been injured somehow.  Doctor Brackett’s with him right now.”

     Dixie ran for the men’s room.  She told Karen to get someone to set up Treatment Room 2 as she passed the woman.

     Dixie barely glanced at Chris as she knelt on the opposite side of Johnny’s body from Doctor Brackett.

     “What happened, Kel?”

     “Mr. Weber. . .the father of the boy who died at the fire tonight, was beating Johnny’s head against the wall when Chris called me in here.”

     “I came looking for Uncle Johnny like my mom told me to,”  Chris said from where he stood above the trio.  “I heard the man yelling when I walked in the door.  I tried to pull him off Johnny but I couldn’t.”

     “Was he already unconscious, Chris?”  Brackett asked as he peeled Johnny’s lids back and flashed his penlight in the man’s eyes.

     “I think so. He wasn’t trying to fight back or anything.”

     The medical staff stood and moved out of the way when the gurney arrived.  Doctor Brackett and Chris helped the orderly lift Johnny to it.  Chris held the swinging door open so the gurney could get out unhindered.  He watched as Brackett and Dixie ran along beside Johnny to the treatment room.

     Joanne DeSoto was just rounding the corner when Johnny was whisked by her.  She did a double take, not certain at first if perhaps the lateness of the hour, combined with worry and stress, was causing her to hallucinate.  When her eyes fell on her son she questioned, “Chris?”

     The teenager walked to his mother.  Though the waiting area of the ER was empty, he spoke in a voice that was barely above a whisper.

     “I went looking for Uncle Johnny like you asked me to.  A man was in the bathroom beating him up.  He said. . .he said Uncle Johnny let his son die tonight at the fire.  What did he mean by that, Mom?”

      Joanne had yet to be told any details about the fire Station 51 was fighting when Roy was injured; therefore she was hard pressed to answer Chris’s question.

     “I don’t know, sweetheart.  With all the worry over your dad, and then talking to the doctors, I hadn’t gotten around to asking Uncle Johnny what happened at the scene.”

     “But why would Uncle Johnny let a kid die?” 

     “Chris, Johnny would never let anyone die.  Even without knowing the details I can assure you that your Uncle Johnny did everything in his power to save that child.”

     “But the man said--”

     “I don’t care what the man said.  Chris, your dad and Uncle Johnny can’t save everyone they’re called to help.  They try to.  They want to.  But it’s a fact of life that they can’t.  Sometimes the injuries a person has sustained are too great for all the medical knowledge in the world to be able to be of much use.”

     “I know that, but still--”

     “No more buts.  That’s just the way it is.  You ask your dad when you get a chance to talk to him.”

     If I get a chance to talk to him.

     The teenager shook off his dark thoughts as his mother led him to a chair. 

     “It will be a little while longer before they let us up to ICU to say hi to Daddy.  In the meantime we might as well wait here for word on Uncle Johnny.”

     Chris nodded.  He tried to sort everything out in his mind.  That man in the bathroom was furious with Johnny, and he’d called him incompetent.  Not only did the man’s son die, but Chris’s father was injured, too.  What did it all mean?  Had Johnny made some sort of mistake tonight that no one knew about?  Or maybe they did know but just didn’t want to tell Chris and his mom. 

     Before Chris had the opportunity to think further a nurse beckoned them.

     “Mrs. DeSoto, you and your son can go up to ICU now to see your husband.”

     “Thank you.”

     Chris stood and took his mother’s hand.  He stopped their progress toward the elevators when Joanne paused at the nurse’s station.

     “My husband’s partner, John Gage, was just taken into a treatment room by Dixie and Doctor Brackett.  Could you please have one of them call up to ICU as soon as they know anything about his condition?  My son and I are very worried about him.”

     The woman made a note on a piece of paper.

     “Certainly.  I’ll make sure someone gives you a call.”

     “Thanks.”

     Chris led his mother to the bank of elevators.  He took charge of pressing the necessary button that would summon the car, then led her inside and pressed the button that would take them to ICU.  Joanne couldn’t help but give a sad smile at how fast her son was growing up.  He was already as tall as Roy, and would likely gain an inch or two more in height before he was done growing.  He was thicker through the chest and shoulders than Roy, and would probably possess a broader build, though his features, hair color, and the tonal quality of his voice meant he’d be the spitting image of his father within the next five years.

     Chris didn’t quite understand why his mother gave his hand a squeeze as they exited the elevator at the ICU floor.  He smiled at her, took a deep breath, then led her toward the ominous looking double doors that were straight ahead.

____________________________________

     Chris had never been on the ICU floor before.  A few years ago, when Johnny had been injured so severely trying to protect Jennifer from a would-be kidnapper, Chris’s sister had gotten to visit Johnny in ICU, but Chris himself hadn’t been able to see the man until Johnny was moved in a regular room.

     The first thing the teenager noticed was the death-like quiet that was only interrupted by the soft beeping of monitors.  When they got to the doorway of his father’s room a new sound was added.  The hiss of a ventilator that was pumping air in and out of Roy’s lungs.

     Chris swallowed hard as he fought to maintain his role as ‘man of the family.’  He wanted to cry when he caught his first look of his father lying so helpless and lifeless on the bed.  He approached his dad with shaking legs.  When they got to the railing Chris’s mother dropped his hand so she could reach out and touch her husband.

     “Hi, sweetheart,” the woman said softly as she stroked the back of her hand over Roy’s pale cheek.  “Chris and I are here with you.  You’re going to be fine.  Doctor Brackett and Doctor Early said you just need a nice, long rest.”

     Nice long rest?  Yeah right, Mom.  What they really said, without saying it, is that Dad will be lucky to know how to tie his shoes if he even lives to walk outta here.

     Joanne turned to her son.

     “Tell Dad hi, Chris.”

     Chris forced his feet to shuffle to the bed.  He looked for a safe place to touch his father that wouldn’t cause the man pain, and finally settled on one sheet covered shin.

     “Hi--” Chris had to stop and clear his throat.  “Hi, Dad.  I. . .I drove Mom here.  Jenny and John came with us, too.  Jenny’s with John in the cafeteria while we’re in here with you.  Doctor Early gave them some money for food.  You know John.  He wanted nothing but candy.  He’s. . .he’s being a good boy for Jenny.  You’d be proud of him.”

     Joanne smiled and squeezed her husband’s shoulder.  “You’d be proud of all your children tonight, Roy.  Jenny’s being such a big help with John, and Chris is being such a big help to me.  And, of course, Johnny’s being a big help to all of us.  We’ll be just fine until you’re on you’re feet again.”

     Mother and son stayed with Roy, speaking words of encouragement, until a nurse peered in the doorless room.

     “Mrs. DeSoto,” the woman beckoned softly.  “Doctor Brackett just called up here.  He said you and your son can see Mr. Gage now.”

     “Thank you.”

     After the nurse left Joanne turned to Chris.  “Would you please go down and check on Uncle Johnny while I stay here with your dad?”

     “No. I wanna stay here with Dad, too.”

     Joanne was surprised at her son’s tone, which was a cross between angry and argumentative.  Johnny held a special place in the hearts of all her children.  She couldn’t understand why Chris wasn’t willing to do what she asked, but she chalked it up to the stress this long night had brought them.

     “Don’t you think Uncle Johnny needs someone with him, as well?  Don’t you think your Dad would want you to be there if he can’t be?”

     Chris looked at his shoes and gave a mumbled, “I suppose.”

     “Chris, please.  For your dad.  For everything your Uncle Johnny has meant to him and our family.”

     “Oh, all right,” Chris said in a voice that suddenly made him sound ten years younger.

     As the teenager stomped from the room Joanne shook her head.

     I wonder what’s gotten into him?  She looked back down at her husband.  He’s probably just upset over what’s happened to Roy and doesn’t know how to voice his worry.  He’s so like his father in that regard.  Jenny and John are just the opposite.  You never have to wonder what they’re feeling, but Chris. . .Chris is like Roy.  He keeps his worries and fears hidden from those his loves.

     Joanne resumed her one-sided conversation with her husband while at the same time a part of her mind urged Chris to hurry back with good news about Johnny.

     God knows this family doesn’t need to receive any more bad news tonight.

____________________________________

     There was no one at the ER’s nurse’s station when Chris passed.  He hesitated when he came to the treatment room labeled 2, not sure if he should go in or not.  He looked left and right again, but still didn’t spot a nurse or doctor he could ask.  He finally shrugged his shoulders and quietly pushed the door open.

     Johnny was lying on the table with his face turned away from Chris.  Dixie McCall stood next to him, her back to Chris.  The teenager could see the large, thick bandage that covered the back of Johnny’s head.  He wasn’t certain if Johnny was conscious or not until Dixie spoke to him.

     “Well, Mr. Gage, it took seventeen stitches to close that thick skull of yours, but once again we managed to do it.”

     When Johnny didn’t respond the nurse dropped her teasing tone.

     “Johnny?  How are you feeling?”

     “Like a distraught father slammed my head against a bathroom wall.”

     “John--”

     “Just drop it, Dix.  I deserved this and whole lot more.”

     “Johnny, stop it.  You can’t blame yourself for that boy’s death.  I already told you that.”

     “And what about Roy?  Can you tell me I can’t blame myself because my partner might never live a normal life again?”

     “You did what you had to tonight.  You’re only one man, John.”

     “Yeah, one man who didn’t do his best friend, or a little boy, any good.”

     Johnny started to throw his left arm over his eyes.  Dixie stopped that movement, her hand reminding him that he had an IV in a vein.

     “I screwed up, Dix,” Johnny said softly.  “I screwed up big time.  I. . .I had to leave Roy in order to help the boy.  Yet I knew all along the boy was hurt too badly to save.  I knew he’d never live.  Roy. . .Roy might have had a chance if only I’d gotten to him sooner.”

     Chris DeSoto backed out of the room as quietly as he’d entered.  He could never remember a time when he’d been so furious. 

     So it is his fault.  Johnny left my dad to die.  The bastard left my dad to die!  I’ll never forgive him.  Never!

     Chris stomped toward the elevator, almost plowing into his sister and brother in the process.

     “Chris, a nurse just told me Uncle Johnny was hurt.  Where is he?  Is he okay? What happened?”

     Chris grabbed his sister’s shirtsleeve and pulled her into the open car.  John, who was holding Jennifer’s hand, had to run to keep up.

     “Never mind about Johnny.  Just come on.”

     “But--”

     “Just forget about him, Jen.”

     “What’s wrong with you?”

     “Nothing’s wrong with me!  You just shouldn’t be wasting your time worrying about Johnny.  You should be worrying about Dad.”

     Jennifer glared at her brother as the elevator started its climb.

     “I am worried about Dad, but I’m worried about Uncle Johnny, too.”

     “Yeah,” John agreed in a bewildered voice as he looked from one sibling to the other.  “I wowwy ‘bout Unca Johnny, too.”

     “Well, you shouldn’t worry about him either.”

     “Why not, Chwis?”

     “Just ‘cause I said so, that’s why not.”

     John shrugged his shoulders.  “Well, I gonna wowwy ‘bout him anyway.  I wuv Unca Johnny.”

     “And I’m going to worry about him, too,” Jennifer said.

     “For what my opinion’s worth to either one of you, you’d both be better off to forget Johnny ever existed.”

     “What?”  Jennifer voiced her astonishment.  “What the heck is wrong with you? And his name’s not Johnny to us.  It’s Uncle Johnny.”

     “Maybe to you it still is, but to me he stopped being Uncle Johnny the minute he let our dad get hurt.”

     “Chris, Uncle Johnny didn’t let anything happen to Daddy.”

     “Oh, yeah?  And just how do you know that, Miss Smarty Pants?”

     “Because I just do.  I know Uncle Johnny and I know he would never let anyone or anything hurt any of us.  You were on that camping trip with me, Chris.  You remember what happened.  You know exactly what Uncle Johnny will do for our family.”

     Chris scowled as the elevator dinged and the trio existed on the ICU floor.

     “You’ve always put Uncle Johnny on a pedestal.  Ever since the first day you met him.  Sometimes you just can’t see the forest for the trees, Jennifer.  He’s no hero, Jen.  Believe me when I tell you Johnny’s no one’s hero.”

     Jennifer had no idea what had gotten into her brother as she watched him shove the ICU doors open and disappear within.  If she didn’t have John with her she’d follow him, but she knew the nurses would never allow her in her father’s room with a three year old in tow.  Not to mention that she’d never be allowed to continue her argument with her older brother within the quiet environment of the ICU.

     Jennifer picked John up and walked over to the waiting area.  She sat in a plush chair with her little brother on her lap.  John squirmed around until he was seated sideways.  He leaned his tired head against his sister’s shoulder.

     “Jenny, why is Chwis mad at Unca Johnny?”

     “I don’t know.”

     “Unca Johnny is too nice to be mad at.  He my bestest bubby.”

     Jennifer smiled.  “I know.  He’s one of my best buddies, too. He has been since I was your age.”

     “Really?”

     “Really.”

     “Jenny, tell me the story again ‘bout my name.  ‘Bout how Unca Johnny saved you from that scary man, and how Chwis wode Cody down the mountain real fast to get Daddy, and how everyone was worried ‘bout Unca Johnny ‘til he gots all better, and how Mommy and Daddy named me John ‘cause dat’s Unca Johnny’s real name.  Right?”

     Jennifer laughed at her little brother.  “Yes, John is Uncle Johnny’s real name.  Only we don’t call him that, do we?”

     “No.  We call him Unca Johnny ‘cause he’s our Unca Johnny and we wuv him lots and lots.”

     “Yes, we do,” Jennifer agreed as she kissed the top of her baby brother’s head.  “And no matter what Chris says we always will.”

     Jennifer started her tale then.  Even though John had heard it at least twenty times before, she told the little boy the story about how he’d been named for their father’s best friend as a thank you to John Gage for saving her life.

     By the time Joanne and Chris exited the ICU at four that morning both Jennifer and John were sleeping.  Joanne suggested they stop in and see Johnny before going home, but Chris vetoed that by telling his mother he was certain Johnny needed his rest.  Joanne couldn’t think of a reason to disagree with her son, so took John from Jennifer’s arms then gently woke her daughter.

     “How’s Uncle Johnny?”  Jennifer asked as she stood to follow her family to the car.

     “You’re asking about him before you ask about Dad?  Man, I can’t believe you.”

     “Chris,” Joanne scolded,  “please.  We’re all tired and worried about both your dad and Uncle Johnny.”

     Tears pooled in Jennifer’s eyes as a result of her brother’s harsh tone.

     “I was going to ask about Daddy, too.  You just didn’t give me a chance.”  She turned to her mother.  “Really, Mom, I was.”

     “Sweetheart, I know.  As far as your dad goes, there’s no change from when the doctors talked to us, but Doctor Brackett just told me not to be alarmed by that.  He says it’s a good sign that Daddy’s vitals are strong.  As far as Uncle Johnny goes, Doctor Brackett says he was settled in a room several hours ago and has a mild concussion.  They’ll keep a close eye on him and release him sometime in the afternoon as long as he shows no signs of complications.”

     Jennifer simply nodded as they stepped into the coolness of the early morning air.  She was glad they’d brought John’s blanket along.  He was wrapped within it, therefore the chilly temperature didn’t disturb his sleep.

     Twenty minutes later the DeSoto family arrived home.  Joanne carried John to his room while Chris retreated to his own room and closed the door.  Jennifer was too keyed up to sleep.  She moved quietly around the kitchen, making coffee for her mother and pouring a glass of juice for herself.  She tried not to think of how their lives would change if her father did suffer brain damage.  She glanced up at the pictures that covered the dining room wall.  Her eyes focused on one that had been taken the previous year at the fire station.  Uncle Johnny had an arm flung around her father’s shoulders.  You could tell Uncle Johnny had been laughing about something when the picture was snapped, most likely at her father’s expense, because he wore his big, crooked grin while Jennifer’s dad wore an expression of mock long-suffering.

     The girl bowed her head as tears slid down her face. 

     Please let them be all right. Please God, let both my daddy and Uncle Johnny be all right.

____________________________________

     John Gage felt far from ‘all right’ that afternoon, but he wasn’t about to admit that to Kelly Brackett.  Physically, he felt so-so.  He’d feel better if his headache would go away, but he could live with so-so for the time being.  How he felt emotionally was an entirely different story.  A child was dead. His partner was gravely injured. And Johnny blamed himself for both those happenings.

     As soon as Brackett released him Johnny made his way to ICU, once again dressed in his bunker pants because he hadn’t asked anyone to bring clothes from his ranch.  Dixie had gotten rid of his blood stained undershirt and provided him with a blue scrub shirt in its place.   

     Johnny sat with Roy a long time that afternoon, though he never could bring himself to say more than, “Hi, Pally.”  He’d tried a couple times, but tears got in his way making it impossible to speak. When he finally walked through the double doors that would lead him out of ICU he practically ran into Joanne and Chris. 

     Johnny wasn’t even able to voice a greeting before Joanne was hugging him.  By now she’d been told by Dixie everything that had happened at the scene of the fire.  Just like the nurse, Joanne knew Johnny wasn’t to blame for Matthew Weber’s death any more than he was to blame for Roy’s injuries.  She’d talked to Captain Stanley on the phone that afternoon and had been told how hard Johnny fought to bring Roy back to them.  If it hadn’t been for Johnny’s actions Roy would have been dead long before he arrived at Rampart.

     “I think he’s pretty torn up about it, Joanne,”  the man had said.  “Believe me, Johnny was put in a position none of us would ever want to find ourselves in.  He was one paramedic at a scene that was in bad need of two.  He did the very best he could.  Don’t allow him to tell you differently.”

     Now all Joanne did was hug the man she thought of as a brother. 

     “Johnny, how are you?”

     “I’m fine.”

     The woman stepped back so she could take a good look at her husband’s partner. 

     “You don’t look fine.  You look tired and pale.  You need to be resting, not running all over this hospital.”

     “I had to see Roy before I leave.”

     “How are you getting home?”

     “Chet said he’d pick me up.  I was just going to give him a call.”

     “That’s silly.  Chris can take you home.”

     “But I came here to see Dad,” the teenager protested.

     Joanne threw her son a dark look.

     “You came here to help your father in any way possible.  Right now you can help him by giving Uncle Johnny a ride home. After you do that you can come back.”

     “But--”

     “It’s okay, Joanne,” Johnny said, sensing the teenager’s hostility.  “I can call Chet.”

     “No.  You’ve always been there for me and Roy whenever we needed you.  You’ve never complained about baby-sitting for the kids when an emergency came up, or giving me a ride to or from the hospital when Roy’s been hurt, not to mention the countless number of household projects Roy has drafted you to help him with over the years.  Now let us return the favor.” 

     Joanne shot a meaningful gaze at her son. 

     “Christopher, give your Uncle Johnny a ride home.  Now.  I expect you to feed the animals for him, then make certain he’s resting like he’s supposed to be before you come back.”

     Both Chris and Johnny knew better than to argue with Joanne when she used that tone of voice.  Johnny gave the woman a kiss on the cheek before turning to follow Chris who was already halfway to the elevator.

     “I’ll be back tomorrow to see Roy.  If anything changes between now and then please call me.”

     “You know I will.”

     Johnny nodded.  Of course Joanne would call him.  No matter what happened, good or bad, she’d call Johnny before she phoned Roy’s mother, or his two younger sisters, or any member of her own family.

     The paramedic didn’t even try to keep up with Chris DeSoto as they walked across the Rampart parking lot.  The teenager hadn’t said a word to Johnny in the elevator, nor as they’d made their way through the main lobby.  Johnny had no idea how much Chris knew about what had transpired the evening before, but he had been told by Doctor Brackett that it was Chris who came upon Terence Weber beating him in the bathroom.  Johnny could easily guess that Weber had said enough to enable Chris to draw his own conclusions regarding Roy’s injuries.

     Chris sat like a statue behind the wheel of his mother’s Impala as Johnny climbed in the passenger side.

     “Chris, if you don’t want to take me home just say so.  I’ll call Chet.”

     The boy shook his head as he started the car.

     “No.  Mom said I was supposed to do this so I am.”

     And those were the last words Chris spoke to John Gage until they arrived at the ranch. 

     Chris parked the car by the house and started to climb out.  Johnny motioned for him to stay where he was.

     “You head back to the hospital.”

     “Mom said I was supposed to help you.”

     “I don’t want your help if you don’t want to help.”

     The teenager refused to look at the paramedic.  He knew what he was doing was wrong, and he knew his father would be greatly disappointed with him.  His mother was correct, Johnny had done a lot of things for them over the years, but maybe now it was time Chris made it clear as to just who was in charge of the DeSoto family when Roy wasn’t capable of assuming that role.

     “No, I don’t want to help,” Chris said, his hands gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white.   “Not now.  Not ever again.  Because of you my father might never be the same.  He might never walk, or talk, or do anything for himself.  You let him down.  You. . .you chose that boy over him, and you even blew that ‘cause the kid died.”

     Chris swallowed hard, not sure if his anger outweighed the hurt he saw on Johnny’s face, but he’d come this far and was bound and determined to finish.

     “You’re not my uncle.  You’re no one’s uncle.  That’s just a name we called you.  And because you’re not my uncle you’re not really part of our family.  I don’t know what’s going to happen to my dad, maybe he’ll get better, but maybe he won’t.  If he doesn’t I’m the one who will be taking care of him, and Mom, and Jenny, and John.  You got that?”

     Chris had to strain to hear Johnny’s reply.

     “Yeah, Chris.  I got it.”

     The boy bit down on his lower lip as Johnny exited the vehicle.  Chris tried to push his guilt ridden thoughts out of his mind as he watched the man slowly make his way to his house.

     I hurt him.  I really hurt him.  I. . .I didn’t mean to hurt him, but I’m so mad at him because of the way he let Dad down. 

     The last sight Chris had of Johnny was of the stark white bandage on the back of the paramedic’s head right before he disappeared into the house.  Chris sat in the driveway a moment longer, contemplating doing what his mother asked and taking care of Johnny’s animals.  He knew the man had no business doing those chores for himself this evening, but once again Chris’s anger overruled his common sense.  He put the car in drive, turned a wide circle, then headed for the road without looking back at the ranch that held such a fond place in his memory, and such a warm place in his heart.

____________________________________

     Two mornings later Johnny reported for work with the rest of the A-shift.  Captain Stanley wasn’t sure how wise that was, despite the fact he had medical papers from Kelly Brackett declaring John fit for duty.

     He looks like he hasn’t gotten any sleep at all.  No doubt he was up all night worrying about Roy.  And now I’ve got to tell him about Weber.  Just what we need around this station, more worries.

     Roll call had come to an end and Johnny was walking over to help Charlie Dwyer inventory the squad’s supplies. 

     Thank God for small favors.  At least I got Charlie this shift and not Brice.

     Before Johnny arrived at his destination he was summoned from behind.

     “John!  In my office a minute, pal.”

     Johnny had worked for Hank Stanley long enough to know that when he ended the phrase ‘in my office a minute’ with the word ‘pal’ you weren’t in trouble, but rather he had some sort of upsetting news to pass along.

     Please don’t let it be about Roy.  Please.  Not about Roy.

     Johnny had spent an hour sitting with the comatose Roy the previous day, then left shortly after Joanne and a petulant Chris arrived.  Johnny called the hospital before work this morning.  He’s been told Roy was resting comfortably and there was no significant change in his condition.  It was those last six words that were still echoing in Johnny’s head as he made his way to Cap’s office.

     Hank shut the door behind his paramedic.

     “Have a seat, John.”

     “Is this about Roy?”

     “No,”  Hank shook his head.  “No, it has nothing to do with Roy.  I talked to Rampart before I came in this morning.  The nurse said he was resting comfortably, but that there’s been no--”

     “Significant change in his condition,”  Johnny finished.  “Yeah, I know.  I talked to her, too, right before I left my house.”

     Hank crossed the room and hiked a hip up on the corner of his desk.  He looked down at Johnny seated in front of him.

     “Look, I don’t think anything will come of this, but I need to let you know that Terence Weber. . .the father of--”

     “I know who he is.”

     Hank nodded.  Given the bandage Johnny was still sporting on the back of his head Hank supposed the paramedic was fully aware of who Weber was.

     “Weber’s requested a review board look into your actions from the other night. Now believe me when I say I can’t imagine anyone on that board finding you at fault.  They’ll be talking to me, of course.  You can rest assured I’ll tell them no wrong doing occurred, and that you did everything in your power to save Matthew Weber.”

     Johnny looked down at his boots.  “Thanks, Cap.”

     “There’s no need to thank me. I’m simply going to tell it like it is.”

     When Johnny didn’t do anymore than nod Hank said, “John, you can’t blame yourself for what happened at that scene.  As I told Joanne, you were one paramedic in bad need of a set of helping hands.  You’ve been with the fire department what?  Thirteen years now?”

     “Fourteen.”

     “Fourteen years.  That’s a long time.  Long enough to know that you can’t carry every victim you couldn’t save on your shoulders.  Or in your heart.”

     “But when one of those victims is your partner--”

     “My words still stand.  You can’t let it eat away at you, John.  You have to come to terms with the fact that you did all you could for Roy.”

     Johnny finally brought his eyes up from his boots.  “But I left him in that house.”

     “No, you didn’t leave him.  You thought he was behind you.  Whether Roy didn’t see you, or got turned around in all that smoke, or had a piece of ceiling or wall fall on him that hindered his ability to get out, we may never know.”

     The paramedic pushed himself to his feet and headed toward the door.  Softly, he said, “It’s the ‘never knowing’ that I’m not sure I can live with, Cap.”

     After the door closed behind the departing man Hank Stanley thought of the comatose Roy DeSoto, then mumbled,  “You just might have to learn how to live with it, John.  You just might not have any other choice.”

____________________________________

     By early evening Joanne DeSoto had tried to call Station 51 three times, but had yet to get an answer.  It had been shortly after noon that day when a nurse noticed the first signs that indicated Roy was coming out of his coma. At three-thirty he opened his eyes.  At four-thirty he smiled at his wife and oldest son while giving them a wobbly thumbs up.  By six o’clock the ventilator had been removed and numerous tests had been run.  Their preliminary results had Doctor Early smiling as well. 

     Johnny carried a handie-talkie as he walked down the hall that would take him to ICU.  Charlie was waiting for him in the squad.  Station 51 had been repeatedly toned out all afternoon.  Now the squad was at Rampart after having transported a child who had fallen from a backyard swing set and broken his collarbone.

     The double doors swung open as Johnny approached.  Joanne looked momentarily surprised, as though the person she was seeing was exactly who was on her mind.

     “Johnny!  I was just going to try to call you again.”

     “Again?”

     “I’ve tried to call the station several times this afternoon.” 

     Johnny felt the color drain from his face.  “Roy?  Is he--”

     “He’s fine.  He’s coming out of the coma.  Doctor Early is really pleased with his neurological responses so far.”

     Johnny closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall.  He doubted Joanne could even hear him when he whispered,  “Thank God.”

     “He hasn’t spoken to us yet, but he definitely recognizes both Chris and myself.  He’s also been able to do anything the doctors and nurses have requested of him.  So that’s a good sign, right?”

     “Yes,” Johnny nodded as he opened his eyes.  “Yes, Jo, that’s a very good sign.”

     Joanne tugged on the paramedic’s arm. 

     “Come on.  I know he’ll want to see you.”

     “Where’s Chris?”

     “With Roy.”

     “Well then, maybe I’d better wait.  I’ll stop up tomorrow morning after I go off-shift.”

     “What difference does that make?  I mean what difference does it make if Chris is in the room or not?”

     It was then that Johnny realized Joanne was completely unaware of the rift between himself and Chris.  Rather than cause the woman more concern, he did his best to bluff.

     “It doesn’t make a difference other than it might be a little overwhelming for Roy to have all of us in the room.  I don’t want one of the nurses to chase you or Chris out, so I can wait until morning to see him.”

     “No one’s going to chase any of us out.  You’ll only be in there for a minute or two.  Now come on.”

     “Where’s Jenny and John?”

     Joanne couldn’t figure out why the man seemed to be stalling, but she answered his question.

     “At home.  Roy’s mother is with them.”

     “Oh.”

     “Anymore questions?”

     “No.  I guess not.”

     “Okay then, let’s go see that handsome partner of yours.”

     Johnny couldn’t help but smile.  Even after nineteen years of marriage Joanne and Roy were still as in love as they had been on their honeymoon.

     Roy appeared to be sleeping when Johnny entered the room.  Chris sat on his father’s right side, firmly holding Roy’s uninjured hand.  He looked up as Johnny rounded the bed.  

     “Hi, Chris.”

     Chris wasn’t sure if he would have even made a response if his mother wasn’t in the room, but because she was there he gave a terse, “Hi.”

     Joanne rubbed a hand over her son’s back.  She knew he was tired.  She wondered now if these past two days, combined with the long night previously, had been too much for him.  Granted, Chris was sixteen, but yet the stress of worrying over his father was definitely taking its toll on him.  Perhaps she should have made him stay home with his siblings, though she could easily imagine the fuss he would have raised if she’d suggested such a thing.

     Johnny laid a hand on Roy’s shoulder.  Though he didn’t expect a response, he said quietly, “Hey, Pally.”

     At the sound of Johnny’s voice Roy opened his eyes.  His lids were heavy and he fought to keep them from falling again.  His gaze landed on Chris and Joanne.  Like he’d done two hours earlier, he smiled when he recognized his wife and son.  Chris squeezed his father’s hand and felt a light pressure in return.

     “Hi, Dad.”

     Roy moved his head a fraction giving Chris the indication he was nodding at him.

     The paramedic’s eyes left his family.  He wasn’t certain what caused him to wake up, but he thought he’d heard Johnny.  He tried to get his mouth to work, but couldn’t seem to form any words.  If he could just question, “Johnny?”  Joanne would know what he meant.

     Roy felt his left shoulder being given a gentle squeeze.  He turned his head and looked up.  He smiled again.  This time when he struggled to find words he was finally able to get his brain, tongue, and mouth to work in unison to help him form them.

     “Hi. . .Hi Part. . .Partner.”

     “Hey, Roy.”

     “Ti. . .Ti. . .Tired.  You.”

     “I look tired?”

     “Yeah.”

     “That’s because while you’ve been laying around napping I’ve been doing the work of two men.  So what do you say you get back on your feet real soon and rejoin me in the squad?  I’ve been driving you know, and I’ve kinda taken a liking to it.  If you want your place back behind the wheel you’re gonna have to hurry up and get well.”

     Though the choking sound Roy made scared Joanne and Chris, Johnny immediately knew he was laughing.  When Roy settled down his eyes began to close once more.  He felt Johnny give his shoulder a final squeeze.

     “Listen, Roy, I’ve got to go.  You take care of yourself and do what Joanne tells you.  I’ll see you tomorrow.”

     “ ‘Morrow.”

     “Yes, tomorrow.”

     “ ‘Kay.”

     As Roy slipped back to sleep Johnny rounded the bed again.  He started to place his hands on Chris’s shoulders but before they even touched the teen the boy was shrugging them off.  Johnny ignored the movement to instead place a kiss on Joanne’s cheek.

     “Call me if anything changes.  Otherwise I’ll stop by tomorrow.”

     “All right.  Take care of yourself.  Like Roy said, you look tired.”

     “I’m fine.” Johnny headed for the door.  “Bye, Chris.”

     Chris didn’t take his eyes off his dad when he growled,  “Bye.”

     Joanne waited until Johnny was out of ear shot, then moved to stand beside her son.  She placed her hands on her hips and gave him a stern look.

     “Okay, Chris, what’s up?”

     “Huh?”

     “Why were you so rude to your Uncle Johnny?”

     “I wish you’d quit calling him that.”

     “Calling him what?”

     “My ‘Uncle’ Johnny.  He’s not really my uncle, you know.”

     “Not by blood, no.  But I always thought the feeling was there.”

     Chris looked down at his father.  His mother had to listen hard to hear his mumbled words.

     “It was until two nights ago.”

     “Chris--”

     “Don’t tell me not to blame Johnny for this because I do.  He left Dad to fend for himself.  He. . .well, I don’t really know what happened but I heard Johnny tell Dixie that he screwed up.  He actually said it was his fault, Mom.”

     “Just because he said it doesn’t mean it’s true.  Chris, neither you nor I can fully understand what your dad and Johnny do each and every day they’re on duty.  Over the years your dad’s been a fireman, and then a paramedic, I’ve seen him come home very upset sometimes because he wasn’t able to save someone’s life.  He’s always shielded you kids from the bad parts of his job.  I’m sure he always will.  So don’t sit here and think that there hasn’t been times when Dad hasn’t unjustly blamed himself for someone’s death or injury, just like Johnny is doing now.”

     “But--”

     “Chris, what it really boils down to is this.  Johnny is your dad’s closest friend, and has been for many years.   If Dad doesn’t blame Johnny for what happened the other night, then none of us have the right to either.”

     “But he talked to Johnny first.  He hasn’t said a word to us, but he talked to Johnny first.”

     Joanne heard the jealousy in Chris’s tone.  She suddenly remembered how difficult it was to be sixteen.  Not quite an adult, but no longer a child.  So often in limbo when it came to understanding your feelings.

     “It doesn’t matter who Dad talked to first.  What matters is he talked, and what he said was coherent.  You should be rejoicing in that fact instead of being mad that it was Johnny he spoke to.”

     “But aren’t you mad?  You’re his wife.  I would have thought he’d have said something to you first.”

     “Chris, your dad was without oxygen for an undetermined amount of time.  At this point I couldn’t careless if he just had a conversation with the wall.  After everything the doctors have told us might be wrong, I’m just happy to see those things aren’t going to come to pass.  And you should be, too.”

     “I am.  It’s just that. . .”

     The teenager let his sentence trail off there.

     “Chris, whether you know it or not you’re very lucky to have a father like Roy DeSoto.”

     “Huh?”

     “Your dad has always put his family first.  A lot of men don’t do that.  A lot of men spend their days off on the golf course, or drinking at the corner bar, or hanging out some place with their buddies.  Dad has never done that.  He’s always been a family man.  He’s always devoted himself, and his time, to us.”

     “But Johnny was there a lot, too.”

     “Oh yes. I forgot.  Heaven forbid we should be upset because your Uncle Johnny helped your father paint the house more times than I can count. Or showed up in the middle of rainstorm to help Dad patch the roof.  Or cheered you on the loudest of anyone at your Little League games.  Or used his Land Rover to haul about two dozen of your Scout projects to local competitions.  Or is always the one to arrive with the most presents for you kids on your birthdays or at Christmas.  Or came over in the middle of the night to stay with you and Jennifer when Grandpa Stellman had a heart attack and your dad and I left for San Diego at one o’clock in the morning.  Or helped me walk the floor with John when he got sick with bronchitis and an ear infection last year while you and Dad were on that fishing trip in Colorado.  So you’re right, Uncle Johnny’s been there a lot, too.  Only I don’t think that’s a bad thing. Not in the slightest.  And up until now I don’t believe you’ve ever thought so either.”

     When the teenager made no response Joanne kissed the top his head.

     “You sit here and think about what I just said.  I’m going to call Grandma DeSoto to let her know your dad is doing better.”

     Chris simply nodded as he heard his mother walk away.  He sat there, clinging to his father’s hand, praying that the man would wake up again and this time, talk to him.  That didn’t happen before Chris’s mother was telling him it was time for them to go home for the night.

     Because of that the teen left the hospital just as angry with Johnny as he had been when he arrived.

____________________________________

     Johnny never spoke to Roy of the departmental inquest into his actions the night of the fire, and did his best to keep his worries over it from his partner. In the end trying to protect Roy proved futile.  It had been five days since Roy had been injured and he was now in a room of his own.  His ribs were taped, his left arm in a cast, and his speech greatly improved from the first evening Johnny visited with him.  He was dragging his right leg slightly when he walked, but Doctor Early thought that would clear up with time and some physical therapy. If Roy’s condition continued to improve he’d be released within two or three days.

     The door to Roy’s room was open.  Johnny peeked around the corner before entering, not wanting to interrupt if Joanne and the kids were visiting.  All was quiet; however.  Roy was sitting up in bed reading the latest issue of Popular Mechanics.

     “Hey, partner,” Johnny said as he entered.

     Roy looked up at the sound of his visitor’s voice and smiled.   He set the magazine down on the mattress.

     “Hi.”

     “No wife and kids this evening?”

     “They just left.  Like his namesake, John couldn’t sit still.  I think the nurses had enough of his twirling, spinning, and jumping.  Joanne thought it was time to take him home and put him to bed before they got kicked out.”

     “Sounds like the same thing my mother used to do to me,”  Johnny commented as he sat in the chair by Roy’s bed.

     “Then I guess there’s not much hope.”

     “Hope for what?”

     “Well, being put to bed didn’t seem to cure you of spinning and jumping, so I doubt it’ll cure John.”

     “Ha, ha.”

     Roy let that subject drop, to instead point a stern finger at his partner.

     “Why didn’t you tell me?”

     “Tell you what?”

     “About the investigation.”

     “Oh.  You know about that, huh?”

     “I didn’t until Lieutenant Hamlin and Chief Kerry showed up here this afternoon.”

     Johnny shrugged at the mention of the names of two of the men on the fire department’s employee review board.

     “I didn’t want you to be upset.  And since I figured they’d come talk to you I didn’t want to influence anything you might have to say.”

     “Influence me how?”

     Johnny broke eye contact with his friend.

     “I don’t know. I just. . .I just wanted you to tell it like it really happened.”

     “And just how did it really happen?  From your perspective I mean.”

     “Look, Roy, I respect whatever it was you told those guys.  I. . .”

     “You what?”

     “Never mind.”

     “Come on.  What were you going to say?”

     Johnny forced himself to look at his friend again.

     “I screwed up.”

     “How so?”

     “I just did.”

     “That’s not what I heard.”

     “Yeah, well. . .”

     “Cap told me what happened, Johnny.  And I remember some of what happened, too.”

     “You do?”

     “Yes, I do.  Bottom line is, I was following you and then the smoke got so dense I couldn’t see you.  By the time it cleared a little bit I was turned around.  I thought I was headed for the stairs but ended up in a bedroom.  As I was coming back into the hall something knocked me down.  Probably part of the ceiling but I’m not sure.  Regardless, you did what you had to.  You got the boy out.”

     “And left you inside.”

     “You didn’t know I wasn’t behind you.”

     Johnny was tempted to say, “I should have,” but reluctantly conceded Roy was correct.  The last time he’d seen Roy the man was behind him.  What happened after that was really nothing but circumstances caused by the fire.  Circumstances neither one of them had control over.

     “It’s going to be okay, you know,” Roy assured.

     “What?”

     “The inquest.  They’ll clear you of any wrongdoing, because there was no wrongdoing.  You did everything right.  Mr. Weber is just upset right now, like any father would be who came home from a dinner date with his wife only to find one of his children deceased.”

     “I know.  I don’t blame him for what he’s doing.”

     “He didn’t need to pound your head against the bathroom wall, though.”

     “Oh.  You heard about that, too, huh?”

     “Joanne told me.  When do the stitches come out?”

     “In a couple days.”

     “You feeling okay?”

     “Yeah.  I’m fine.  A little tired, but all right.”

     “Chris is still helping you with your chores, isn’t he?”

     Until this moment Johnny had no idea Roy thought Chris was supposed to be helping him with his chores, and had no idea that evidently Joanne had instructed Chris to do so more than just that first day when he’d been released from the hospital.

     “Sure,” Johnny lied, because he hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Chris since the day Roy had come out of his coma.   “He’s been a big help.”

     “I’m glad to hear it. After everything you’ve done for us over the years we like to return the favor now and again.”

     “I thought we stopped keeping track of stuff like that a long time ago.”

     “We did,” Roy acknowledged.  “But I think I still owe you about one hundred days worth of free baby-sitting duties.”

     Johnny laughed.  He was thirty-six and had buried a wife and child fifteen years ago now.  He seriously doubted he’d ever marry again.  Or at least he couldn’t imagine anything but bachelorhood for his future.

     “I don’t think you have to worry too much about that.  The baby-sitting thing I mean.  I’m gettin’ a little too old to think about having kids even if I do find a woman who’s willing to put up with me.  But in the event I do. . .have kids someday, you might want to reconsider your offer.  If you think John’s a handful what do you think three or four of mine will be like?”

     “Which is exactly why I’m taking advantage of resting in this hospital bed as long as possible.”

     “Good idea.”

     What sounded like a doorbell chimed, indicating the end of visiting hours.  Normally Johnny wouldn’t have worried about scooting out the door until a nurse pointed the way for him, but he could tell Roy was ready to call it a night.

     The dark headed man stood. 

     “I’d better get going.”

     “Thanks for stopping by.  You didn’t need to drive all the way here from your ranch.  A phone call would have been enough.”

     “Yeah, right,” was all Johnny would say in return.  They’d been friends too long for a phone call to be enough for Johnny when Roy was laid up in a hospital bed.  “Listen, huh. .thanks.  It. . .it helped to talk about it.  The inquest and stuff.”

     “No problem.  I didn’t figure you’d talked about it to anyone else.  Thought you might need someone to smack you upside the head and remind you that you’re one of the best firefighter/paramedics this county has ever turned out.”

     Johnny cocked a teasing eyebrow.

     “One of the best?”  

     “Well, sure. After me, of course.”

     Johnny laughed.      “Of course.  How could I forget?”

     “A bump on the head will do that to a guy.  Make him lose his memory, I mean.”

     “I see.  Yeah, I suppose that could be the cause of it.”

     “But once I return to work you’ll remember who’s numero uno.”

     “Maybe so, but if you don’t return soon I might not remember that you usually drive the squad.  I’m gettin’ kind of used to it, Pally.”

     “You’re not letting Dwyer drive?”

     “Dwyer?  Roy, the guy drives like an old woman.  We’d be lucky to ever get to a scene with Dwyer behind the wheel.  He’s not so hot as a co-pilot either.  The guy doesn’t know his left from his right half the time.”

     “Well, Junior, that just goes to show you what a good team we make.”

     Johnny smiled.  After all the worries he’d had about Roy just five days ago it felt good to realize they were once again going to be a team.

     “Yep, it does.”  Johnny headed for the door.  “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

     “Okay.  See you tomorrow.  And hey?”

     Johnny turned around. 

     “Yeah?”

     “No more worries about that inquest, all right?  It’s going to turn out okay, John.  I know it is.”

     “Okay. No more worries.”

     “Besides, worrying is my thing.  Or at least that’s what you always tell me.  You’re the care-free spirit of this partnership.”

     Thinking of his recent concerns for Roy, his upset over the death of the Weber boy, and the rift that now existed between himself and Chris, made it difficult for Johnny to feel ‘care-free.’  But for the sake of appearances he smiled and agreed.

     “You got that right, Pally.  Care-free is my middle name.”

     And on that note Johnny gave his partner a final wave and walked out the door.  Roy reached for the button that would lower his bed.  He thought back over ten years of friendship with Johnny as he waited for sleep to claim him. At one time he had been foolish enough to believe that John Gage didn’t have a care in the world, but over time he’d come to learn he was wrong about that.  Johnny cared a lot, about a lot of things and a lot of people.  He just hid his feelings well behind his happy-go-lucky nature.  That’s why he sometimes needed to be reminded that it was okay to voice his hurts, worries, and concerns.  Roy was glad they’d gotten everything out in the open tonight.  There was nothing he hated worse than secrets.  For some reason secrets always seemed to hurt someone more than they helped.    Or at least that had been Roy’s experience.

     The paramedic drifted off to sleep, satisfied that things were once again right between his partner and himself.

     Roy had been home for three days when Joanne invited Johnny for a Saturday afternoon cookout.  John had contemplated turning the invitation down.  The few times he’d been around Chris in recent days made it clear the teenager preferred not to be in his presence.  But upon giving it further thought Johnny decided he wasn’t going to let a sixteen-year-old ruin the relationship he had with the DeSoto family.  He hoped time would lessen the anger Chris still held toward him.  He hated the think of their relationship as being permanently damaged.  After all, Chris and John were probably the closest Johnny would ever come to having sons of his own.  And that’s how he thought of all Roy’s children.  He loved each of them with the same amount of love and devotion he’d give his own kids if he were to have any.

     Johnny arrived at two o’clock that afternoon.  Joanne immediately directed him to the deck where Roy and Chris were sitting.

     “We’ve had so much rain the last few days that Roy and Chris decided to soak up a little sun.  We’ll eat about four,” the woman said as she handed Johnny a cold Coke.  “Jennifer’s at a church youth group meeting.  She’ll be home in an hour or so.”

     “Where’s my little pally?”  Johnny asked as he looked into the backyard but saw no sign of John on the swing set or in the sandbox.  “Taking a nap?”

     “No.  I walked him two houses down - to the Milligan’s, a little while ago.  They have a son. . .Kyle, who’s also three.  Sharon and I take turns watching the boys when they want to play together.”

     “Sounds like a good deal,” Johnny agreed, knowing John wasn’t old enough to be left to play outside by himself yet without someone keeping an eye on him.  Like most three year old’s John’s curiosity sometimes got the best of him.  The last thing Joanne would do was risk the boy wandering

off somewhere.

     Johnny observed the various food items setting on the counter.

     “Need me to help you with anything?”      

     “No.  With John out of the house I’ve got it under control.  If I need any help I’ll call Chris in.  You go on out to the deck and say hi to your partner.”

     “Okay.”

     Johnny slid the screen door open and stepped out on the deck. 

     “Hey, Roy.”

     Roy smiled up at his friend from where he sat in a well-padded lounge chair.

     “Hey, Junior.  Have a seat.”

     Johnny took the chair next to Chris.

     “Hi, Chris.”

     When the boy didn’t say anything in return, but instead kept staring out over the backyard, Roy beckoned,  “Earth to Chris.”

     The teenager acted as though he’d been oblivious to what was going on around him.

     “Huh?”

     “Your Uncle Johnny just said hello to you.”

     “Oh.”

     When the boy said no more than that Roy spoke again.

     “Christopher, that usually means you say hello in return.”

     “Yeah.  Sure.  Hi, John.”

     Roy chuckled.  “What’s with calling him John?”

     “Nothing,” Chris scowled.  “I’m just getting a little old for the ‘Uncle Johnny’ routine, wouldn’t you say?”

     Roy had no idea what had gotten into his normally easy-going son this afternoon, but he could tell Chris’s words hurt Johnny even though the man was doing a good job of trying to hide that fact.

     “Chris--”

     Chris interrupted the scolding he knew he was about to get by standing and heading for the patio doors.

     “Where are you going?”  

     “I’ve got some homework to do.”

     “On a Saturday afternoon?”

     “Yeah.  Big test on Monday.”

     “Well. . .okay then, go on.  We’ll see you at supper.”

     “Yeah, see you then.”

     Chris patted Roy on the shoulder as he passed him.  Because the boy was now behind his father Roy didn’t see the dark scowl his son shot Johnny.  Johnny saw it; however, and interpreted it correctly.

     What are you doing here?  Dad and I were perfectly happy sitting on the deck by ourselves and then you had to show up.

     In all the years Roy and Johnny had been partners Roy never before had to apologize for any of his children’s behavior.  He didn’t like being put in that position now, and made a mental note to talk about it with Chris later.

     “I’m sorry.  I don’t know what got into him.”

     “Don’t worry about it.”  Johnny took a swallow of Coke.  “He’s been pretty upset over your injuries.  Cut him a little slack for the next few weeks.”

     “Yeah, I suppose it has been rough on him.  Him and Jennifer both.  This is the first time I’ve been hurt since they’ve been old enough to fully understand the  ramifications of it.”

     “Exactly.  It was a tough couple days for both of them.  Even more so for Chris because Jennifer was distracted with caring for John, but Chris was the one at the hospital with Joanne every day.  Not an easy role for a sixteen year old to have to assume.”

     “That’s true.  But still, that’s no excuse for him to be rude to you.  I’ll talk to him about it after you leave tonight.”

     Johnny shrugged.  “Like I said, don’t worry about it.  He’s by far not the first sixteen year old kid who’s gotten a little mouthy, and I’m sure he won’t be the last.”

     Johnny changed the subject then and the two men spent the next hour talking shop.  It would be several weeks before Roy would be able to return to work.  He knew by the time his cast came off and he got medical clearance he’d be going out of his mind with boredom.

     Chris’s surliness was made up for when Jennifer arrived home.  She bounced onto the deck and gave Johnny a kiss on the cheek.

     “Hi, Uncle Johnny.”

     “Hi, Jenny Bean.  How’d your meeting go?”

     “Great.  I even got elected to be youth council president.”

     “That’s my girl.”

     Jennifer sat down on the end of her father’s chaise lounge.  He smiled at her. 

     “Good for you, Jen.  I’m proud of you.  Maybe you’ll even get Johnny to go to church now.”

     “Ha, ha, Daddy.  Only if I can get you to come first.”

     “Yeah.  Ha, ha, Daddy,” Johnny said from his chair.  “Real funny.”

     Jennifer stayed outside and listened to her father and Uncle Johnny tease one another until her mother called her in to help with supper.  Johnny walked over to the screens and asked, “Joanne, do you want me to start the grill?”

     “If you don’t mind.”

     “No, I don’t mind.”

     With that Chris threw the screen door open and stomped onto the deck.  He brushed against Johnny, deliberately knocking him backwards. 

     “I’ll do it. If my dad can’t cook then I’m the one who will do it.”

     Roy forgot about his taped ribs as he pushed himself to his feet.

     “Christopher, I don’t know what your problem is this afternoon but I’ve had just about enough of--” 

     Roy wasn’t able to finish his sentence.  A woman raced through the DeSoto back yard in tears calling for Joanne.

     “Joanne!  Joanne!”

     Joanne stepped onto the deck.  “Sharon?”

     “The boys!  Are they here?”

     “Here?”

     “Yes.  They were playing in the sandbox.  I was right out there with them but then the phone rang.  I told them to stay put and ran into the house. I wasn’t inside for more than a minute.  Honest I wasn’t.  When I came back out they were gone.”

     “Gone?”

     “I’ve looked in my house and garage thinking they might be hiding, but I can’t find them.  Frank’s already started searching the neighborhood.”

     Johnny assumed Frank was the woman’s husband, but at this point that mattered little.

     “What direction did he go?”

     “To the west of our house.”

     “I’ll go east then.”  Johnny looked at Roy’s wife.  “Joanne, you take Jennifer and head north.  Chris, you go south.  We’ll meet back here in thirty minutes with or without the boys.”

     Joanne and Roy knew what Johnny was thinking.  Two three olds shouldn’t be able to travel very far.  It was reasonable to assume that with them canvassing the neighborhood in all directions they could find the boys in that amount of time.  If not, then they’d need to get help from the police and fire department.

     Roy reached for the cane he still had to use because of his weak right leg.

Johnny stopped him.

     “We’ll handle it, Roy.  You stay by the phone in case a neighbor calls to say the boys are at their house.  And if there’s any place you can think of John might go, call and see if he’s there.”

     “Johnny, he’s three years old!  Where the hell do you think he’d go?”

     “Other kids’ homes he plays at for starters.  Or to that older lady’s who lives down the street, the one with the puppy he likes to go see.”

     “Mrs. Carney.”

     “Yeah.  Call her.  Maybe he and Kyle are there.  Or will stop there.”

     At this moment Roy couldn’t remember a time when he’d been more grateful for Johnny’s presence.  When he couldn’t keep his thoughts straight because of his worry for his youngest child he could count on Johnny to know just what to do.

     Johnny turned to Sharon.  “Ma’am, search your house and garage again.  Kids do like to hide.  The boys might have not answered you on purpose, thinking they were playing a game.”

     “Okay.  I’ll do that.”

     As Sharon ran toward her home, Chris, Joanne, and Jennifer began heading in the directions Johnny had assigned them. 

     Johnny jogged through the neighborhood yelling, “John!  Kyle!”  over and over again.  He stopped to look in bushes or behind garages, anywhere he thought two little boys might want to hide or explore.  As the paramedic traveled he drew the attention of other neighbors who asked what was going on.  Johnny was familiar to most of them.  They knew he was Roy DeSoto’s partner and best friend.  Johnny quickly explained what was happening, and soon the whole east end of Roy’s neighborhood was being searched by a large band of helpers.

     As Joanne, Jennifer and Chris covered their territories they drew the attention of neighbors as well.  Like Johnny, they soon had people aiding them in their search. 

     Thirty minutes later Joanne and Jennifer arrived back home to find Roy pacing the kitchen while clutching his cane with a white knuckled grip.

     “No luck?” He asked his wife.

     “No.  How about you?”

     “I called everyone I could think of.  No one’s seen him.  Sharon just called here, too.  She searched her home four more times.  They aren’t there.”

     Before the couple could exchange further words Chris entered the house.  One look at his face told his parents he hadn’t found the boys either.  Johnny walked in less than a minute after Chris.  When he didn’t see John standing in the kitchen with his family the paramedic headed straight for the phone.  Joanne started to cry quietly as she heard Johnny talking to the police.  He put a call in to Station 51 next.  B-shift was on duty.  He knew he could count on them to help.  His third call went to Hank Stanley.  Johnny quickly explained the situation.  Hank told Johnny he’d call the rest of the A-shift and have everyone to Roy’s house within the hour.

     By five o’clock that evening Roy’s neighborhood was covered with police officers, firefighters - both on duty and off, and private citizens, all looking for the missing boys.  There wasn’t much the DeSoto family could do now but wait.  Johnny was out with the searchers, while Jennifer and Chris remained in the house with their parents and Kyle’s mother.  The distraught Sharon could barely contain her emotions.  Though Joanne repeatedly assured her she’d done nothing wrong, the woman couldn’t be comforted.  Chris was glad when Sharon’s mother finally showed up and took her back home.  The woman’s tears were getting on his nerves. He was also glad when Grandma DeSoto came.  If nothing else she was able to comfort his parents in a way Chris and his sister weren’t.  

     The teenager paced the width of the living room until he couldn’t stand it any longer. 

     “I’m going out and joining the search.”

     “Chris--”

     “Let him go, Joanne,” Roy said. “He’s old enough to take care of himself.”

     Despite Joanne’s misgivings, Roy knew just how his son felt.  He hated not being to join in the search himself, but with his leg in its current state, and his arm in a cast, and tape still around his tender ribs, he wasn’t going to get far before collapsing with fatigue.

     “Just join up with some of the guys, please,” Roy instructed his son. “Chet, or Marco, or your Uncle Johnny.  It’ll be getting dark soon.  I don’t want you out there alone.”

     “I will,” Chris called over his shoulder as he ran for the front door.

     “I wanna help, too,” Jennifer said as she started for the door as well.

     Harriet DeSoto shagged her by the arm.

     “You can help.  You and I will start making supper for the search parties.  I’m sure everyone will appreciate a sandwich and a cold drink in a little while.  Let’s take inventory of your mother’s kitchen.  I’m sure we’ll have to make a trip to the grocery store for some bread and soda.”

     Roy was glad when his daughter didn’t protest her grandmother’s suggestion.  It was one thing to allow his sixteen-year-old son to rejoin the search.  He wasn’t going to allow his thirteen-year-old daughter to do the same.  Especially not with darkness just a few hours off.

     Ten minutes later Grace Stanley, Linda Stoker, and Marco’s mother arrived with laden arms.  A trip to the grocery store was no longer necessary, these wonderful ladies had taken care of that.  Food preparation now began in mass volume.  Joanne went to help, needing something to do to keep herself busy.

     Roy wandered out to the front steps.  He stood there leaning on his cane, his heart aching as he listened to the distant calls of, “John!  Kyle!  John, where are you?”

____________________________________

     Johnny lost count of how many times he’d jogged around Roy’s neighborhood calling for John and Kyle.  The sun was starting to set when he stopped to take a breather.  He wiped the sweat from his brow.  Even though the day had been mild with temperatures not getting over seventy degrees, he was now warm from the physical exertion. 

     I’m warm, but the boys won’t be.  As soon as the sun goes down they’ll start to feel the chill in a way an adult wouldn’t.

     As the search went on around Johnny he tried to come up with any other place he could think of that John might venture to.  He’d already been to the local playground twice, and to the school four blocks away that held slides and swings as well.  He knew the neighbor lady with the puppy John liked to play with had already been contacted by Roy, so there was no use in going there.  He’d looked every place he could think of that would attract the attention of three year old boys.  Trouble was, Roy’s neighborhood was fairly benign.  Other than the park, and school, there just wasn’t much here for a kid that young to want to explore.

     Come on, John, come on.  Where can you be?  Give your Uncle Johnny a clue, Little Pally.

     Johnny wouldn’t even allow himself to think of the other possibility, that the boys might have been kidnapped.  After his experience with Chris and Jennifer several years ago, he knew the DeSotos could never live through something like that again.  But he also knew if they didn’t locate the boys soon that’s what the police would start treating this as.

     Johnny thought a long moment, then cut through a backyard and headed north.  There was water reservoir several blocks away that dumped into a man-made creek.  He knew some of the local kids, like Chris, occasionally fished there, but he also knew the local mothers did their best to keep the creek’s existence a secret from children as young as John.  Johnny wasn’t aware that John knew the creek was there, but Kyle might.  Or if the two of them had walked far enough they could have discovered it on their own.  Johnny thought of every water rescue he’d ever been on that involved children as young as John.  It was rare you ever pulled them out alive.

     Damn. What is it about kids and water?  They’re always attracted to the damn water for some reason.

     Johnny had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he started to run.  He’d never before believed in premonitions, but this time he had one and he didn’t like where it was leading him.

____________________________________

     John DeSoto had enough common sense to bypass the rain-swollen creek when his friend Kyle led him there.  The water was rushing by so fast.  It was fun to watch, but kind of scary, too.  John liked to take baths, and his mommy had promised him he could take swimming lessons when he turned four, but he didn’t think he’d like to be in water that moved this swiftly.  When Kyle walked toward the creek’s edge John grabbed his arm.

     “No, Kyle.  Too fast.”

     Kyle shrugged his shoulders.  He knew of another neat place.  He’d take John there if the creek wasn’t to his liking.

     The boys headed for the reservoir.  John thought it was like climbing the mountains behind Uncle Johnny’s ranch as they hiked up the steep sidewalk with the blue metal railing on either side of it.  John stopped and stared in awe at the huge metal tank in the distance.

     “Wow!”

     The tow headed Kyle nodded his agreement.  He pointed far below.

     “See?”

     John leaned between two of the railings.  There was water running in a concrete bed.  Concrete rose up the side of the steep hills as well.  It looked like the swimming pool at the YMCA to John, only so much bigger and prettier.

     Kyle grabbed John’s hand.

     “Come on.”

     The boys ran together until the sidewalk came to an end.  The metal rail formed a gate here and there was sign posted that read, Danger.  Keep Out.  Unfortunately neither John nor Kyle could read, and even if they had been able to the allure of the water was just too great.

     The evening sun bounced off John’s auburn hair, giving it a reddish tint.  He thought he might have been gone from home a long time now, but he just had to get a closer look at the water.  After that, he’d tell Kyle they needed to leave.

     The boys slipped between the railing and fell to their blue jean covered behinds.  Using the rubber soles of their tennis shoes for traction, they began inching their way down the steep concrete wall.  It wasn’t until they got to the bottom, and the rushing water was touching their shoes, that John realized they were in trouble.  He looked up, up, up, up, and saw how far away the sidewalk was.  He tapped Kyle on the arm and pointed. 

     “Home.”

     “No, stay.”

     “No, Kyle.  Home.”

     Kyle sighed.  John was sure no fun today.  The boy reluctantly copied his friend’s movement.  He turned over so he could crawl up the wall in the same way a baby crawled across a floor.  It didn’t take John and Kyle long to realize this wasn’t possible.  They didn’t have enough strength in their legs, nor the motor skills necessary to make such a steep climb.  Fear overwhelmed John as the rushing water rose higher.  He had no way of knowing that with all the rain they’d received this past week water from the reservoir was being allowed to run into the creek at two hour intervals.  John started to cry as he clawed at the concrete.  His feet slipped, plunging the lower portion of his legs into the cold water.  Kyle soon found himself in the same predicament.  The boys tried to dig their little fingers into the smooth wall, the whole time yelling, “Help!  Help!” as water splashed over their lower bodies.

____________________________________

     Johnny ran along the creek bed.  He saw no signs of John or Kyle, but that didn’t keep him from repeatedly calling their names.  He headed up the sidewalk the boys had just traveled.  He knew there was a park on the other side of the reservoir with a bank of pay phones.  He decided the smartest thing he could do at this point was to call the fire department and have them dispatch some of the searchers to this area.   He prayed no one found a little body floating in the water anywhere, but he knew it wasn’t practical to try to conduct this search by himself.

     Johnny was just about to jump the gate that warned him to keep out, then cross the street to the park when a patch of pumpkin orange caught his eye.  The noise from the water prevented the paramedic from hearing the boys screaming for their parents.  It was Kyle’s orange T-shirt Johnny had seen from above. 

     The paramedic had no time to make a phone call.  The water was already up to the boys’ waists.  How they were hanging on Johnny had no idea.  He dropped to his backside and crab-crawled down the wall.  He paid no attention to the scrapes he collected on his arms as he flew down as fast as his legs would carry him.  As he got closer he could hear the children’s terrified screams.

     “Mommy!  Daddy!  Mommy, help!  Help me, Mommy, help!  Daddy, help!”

     When John looked up and saw the man coming after them he changed his plea from, “Daddy, help me!” to “Unca Johnny!  Unca Johnny!  Unca Johnny, help! Help!”

     Just as the water was about to claim both boys Johnny grabbed Kyle with his right hand and John with his left.  He pulled the children against his chest, panting heavily.  He didn’t have time to ask them if they were all right, or to try to get back up the wall with them.  The water splashed over his head like an ocean wave before he could get any words out. 

     When the water receded the boys were coughing and crying both at the same time.

     “You guys have to calm down,” Johnny ordered as little fingernails dug painfully into his neck.  “You have to calm down and let me get us. . .”

     Another wave washed over the trio, this one more powerful the one before.

     Damn, that water’s coming out of there fast.

     Johnny knew the reservoir’s gates were set on timers meaning there was no man operating its controls who might see them and shut it off. 

     Two more waves came in quick succession, threatening to dump Johnny and the boys in the water.  Johnny figured he could swim to safety on his own.  He’d just follow the flow of the water until it dumped into the creek where he could climb out on level ground.  But with two three years old clinging to his neck there was no way he’d be able to do that.  He estimated the two boys to weigh between thirty and thirty-five pounds apiece.  That would be like trying to swim with a sixty-pound boulder tied to his neck.

     When the water receded a little bit Johnny struggled to climb up higher.  Again, the children hindered his progress.  Hopelessness was beginning to take over.

     I should have made that phone call first.  If I had one of the engine companies would be here by now with ropes. 

     Despite those thoughts Johnny knew he’d done the only thing he could have.  The boys would have never been able to hang onto the slick concrete wall while he made a phone call.  Johnny had no choice but to take the action he did and get to them as quickly as possible.

     Another wave caused Johnny to lose his balance. He fell hard on his right side, Kyle screaming in his ear.  He regained his balance but was unable to make certain if Kyle was okay before more water washed over their heads. 

     Just when Johnny knew he couldn’t outlast the force of the water he looked up and saw Chris crawling down the wall using the same method Johnny himself had.

     “No, Chris!  Go back!  Call for help!  Call for help, Chris!”

     Chris ignored Johnny and plucked Kyle from his arms.  He was able to stay far enough away that the water didn’t touch him.  It was slow going, but somehow Chris managed to climb the wall while carrying Kyle against his side.  He sat the shivering three year old in grass thirty feet from the reservoir’s edge. He shoved a stern finger in the boy’s face.

     “You stay right here!”

     Kyle was so cold he couldn’t even nod his head.  He sat there shivering with tears streaming down his face and his lower lip trembling.

     Chris ran back for the wall.  Again, he crab-crawled toward Johnny.  The water was higher now, up to Johnny’s neck.  He was holding John above his head with both hands.

     “Here, Chris!  Take him!”

     Just as Johnny got those words out the water took him under.  Chris held his breath for ten long seconds, certain that he’d never see his little brother and Johnny alive again.  But then Johnny popped back up and thrust a sputtering John toward him.

     “Take him, Chris!   Get him the hell out of here!”

     Chris snared his little brother from Johnny’s hands.  He held John against his left side and reached his right hand out to Johnny.

     “Here! Take my hand!”

     Johnny knew Chris didn’t have the strength to pull him out of the water.  The only thing that would happen if he took Chris’s offered hand was that he’d end up pulling both Chris and John in with him.

     “No!  Just go!  I’m right behind you!”

     When Chris made no move to turn around Johnny yelled, “Dammit, Chris, go!  Get him out of here!”

     Because of John, Chris turned and did as Johnny ordered.  He barely got up the wall this time, his leg muscles screaming in protest as he made the steep climb with his brother in his arms.  When Chris got to the top he turned around.  His heart fell from his chest when he realized that not only wasn’t Johnny behind him, but the man was nowhere to be seen.

____________________________________

     As soon as John was safely in Chris’s arms Johnny had tried to climb out of the water.  But twenty minutes in the cold stuff holding onto two little boys while being assaulted by waves had taken its toll on the paramedic.  He didn’t have the strength to climb, and when another wave washed over him he was plunged far beneath it.

     Johnny knew the best thing he could do was stay calm.  He swam for the surface, coughing and spitting water when he got there.  He took in as much air as he could in preparation of being plunged beneath the surface again.  This time he did as he’d earlier thought possible.  He allowed the water to carry him toward the creek.      

     The paramedic never imagined his limbs could be so heavy.  He told himself to swim, but it felt like his arms and legs belonged to someone three times his size.  He did whatever he had to in order to survive be it doggie paddle or float on his back.  Just when he was sure he had somehow overshot the creek and had been dumped into the ocean the water got shallower.  Johnny turned his body to the right and kicked with what little strength he had left. When he felt his knees hit a rocky bottom he dropped to his hands and crawled.  He ignored the cuts the rocks sliced into his hands and knees as he headed for the bank.  He knew he had to keep going until his body was completely out of the water.  When it was, he collapsed in a shivering heap.  He promised himself he’d just rest a minute, then get up and head for Roy’s.  He was still promising himself that when he passed out.

____________________________________

     Chris DeSoto didn’t know how much time passed while he just stood hugging two shivering boys to his chest while watching the water swirl below him.  He kept praying he’d see Johnny’s dark head emerge, or catch a glimpse of the navy blue shirt he was wearing, or a leg of his faded Wrangler jeans.  When none of those things happened Chris knew the first thing he had to do was get help for both the little boys, and for Johnny.  He hiked toward the same phones Johnny was originally headed for.  He tried to soothe the upset boys as he carried them in his arms.  Kyle was crying for his mother, while John leaned over Chris’s shoulder with outstretched arms screaming, “Unca Johnny!  Unca Johnny!”

     Chris couldn’t help but start to cry himself when a patrol car came into view.  Vince Howard recognized Roy’s oldest son, and took an educated guess as to who the little boys were in his arms.  He pulled the car to the curb and grabbed a big blanket from the trunk.  He ran to the children, throwing the blanket around Chris’s shoulders thereby covering the children he was carrying.  He ignored the screams and cries as he ushered Chris to the vehicle.  It wasn’t until he got all three kids in the back seat that he could understand what Chris was trying to tell him.

     “Uncle Johnny got swept away!”

     “What?”

     “Uncle Johnny!  He’s the one who found the boys.  They were clinging to him down at the bottom of the reservoir.  I took them from him, but before I could help him out he went under.”

     Oh, damn.

     Vince took note of the rapidly growing darkness and immediately picked up the radio mike.  He put a call in for fire and rescue units.  He waited until the first fire truck arrived at the scene.  He had Chris tell the captain from Station 36 exactly what had happened and where the last place was he had seen Johnny.  By the time Vince was heading his patrol car toward the DeSoto home two more fire trucks had arrived along with a paramedic unit.  The black man had to tune out the whimpers of little John DeSoto as he lay in his brother’s arms crying for his Uncle Johnny.

____________________________________

     Joanne was in her garage where long tables had been set up to hold the food for the searchers.  Amongst those taking a fifteen minute break right now were Roy’s co-workers from Station 51, save for Johnny.  No one was sure where he was, other than to assume he was still out with another search party, or possibly combing the neighborhood again by himself.

     Joanne was beginning to grow worried when Chris didn’t show up for a sandwich.  She knew Roy had told him to hook up with one of the guys from the A-shift, but then again he could be with Johnny.  Or with some of the other off-duty firemen from various stations that he knew. 

     Roy stepped into the garage, hating the silence that greeted him and the way no one wanted to meet his eyes.  He felt like he’d aged one hundred years in the last four hours.  He wondered if he’d ever see his youngest son alive again and tried to remember the last words they’d exchanged before Joanne had walked John to Kyle’s. 

     Probably nothing significant.  Or at least it didn’t seem that way at the time.  Just “Bye, Tiger, have a good time,” on my part, and probably, “I will, Daddy,”  on John’s part.  Oh God, he’s so little.  Only three.  It’s been almost four hours now since Sharon realized the boys were missing.  Where could he have gone to?

     Everyone looked up when the patrol car pulled in the DeSoto driveway.  Roy caught sight of his oldest son seated in the back with something wrapped in a blanket in his lap.  At that moment the paramedic was sure he was going to faint.  Joanne must have swooned behind him because he heard Grace Stanley cry, “Joanne!”  and was vaguely aware of Marco jumping to his feet in order to grab Joanne and keep her on hers.

     When the blanket wrapped bundle moved and John’s head emerged Roy let out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding.  Two little arms reached for him.

     “Daddy!  Daddy!”

     Roy dropped his cane and limped for his son.  Keeping the blanket in place he took John in his arms.  He pulled the boy to his chest and hugged him as tight as he dared.  He kissed a cold cheek and did his best to do a visual assessment of his son before turning the child over to a sobbing Joanne.  Above John’s cries Vince said, “I already dropped the Milligan boy off at his home.  There’s a paramedic looking him over now.  The other one is headed this way.  As far as I can tell though, both Kyle and John are fine.  More scared than anything else.”

     Roy nodded, already seeing Squad 36 coming into view.  He turned to his oldest son.

     “Did you find them?”

     “I. . .kinda.  Johnny. . .Uncle Johnny found them first.”

     Roy looked at the patrol car, but didn’t see Johnny seated inside.

     “Where is he?”

     Though Chris thought when a guy reached sixteen he was too old to cry, he couldn’t stop the tears that started running down his face once again.

     “Chris?”

     Vince put one arm around Chris and the other around Roy.

     “Come on, let’s go in the house.”

     “Vince?  What’s going on?”

     “We’ll tell you when we get in the house, Roy.  I’m sure Joanne will want to hear what Chris has to say, too.  And Captain Stanley and the rest of your co-workers.”

     It was all Roy could do not to grab Vince and shake the story out of him right there.  Something was terribly wrong and Roy knew it. Vince refused to say any more, Chris was crying, and John was screaming, “Unca Johnny!  Unca Johnny!   I wan my Unca Johnny!”

     When Roy finally heard the whole story as told by Chris his knees gave way and he sank to the sofa.  He was barely aware of the Station 51 A-shift running out the door to aid in the search for their missing paramedic.  Roy gathered his children and wife around him, all of them sending up a silent prayer for Johnny’s safe return.

____________________________________

     At ten-thirty that night Roy and Chris sat out on the deck wearing sweatshirts and jackets to ward off the November chill.  The house was fairly quiet now.  John had been checked out by Roy and Bob Bellingham and given a clean bill of health.  Joanne gave him a warm bath, then tried to get him to eat something.  He was so upset over his missing Uncle Johnny she couldn’t get more than a few bites of macaroni and cheese and a glass of milk in his stomach.  He finally cried himself to sleep in her arms, then had been carried to bed by Chris at nine o’clock.

     Jennifer and Joanne sat at the kitchen table doing just what Roy and Chris were doing, worrying while waiting for word on Johnny.  Joanne had sent Grandma DeSoto and all the other helpers home, promising to call everyone as soon as they had word. Right before she left Grace Stanley told Joanne the women of the Station 51 A-shift would return in the morning to help prepare breakfast for the searchers if Johnny was still unaccounted for.  Roy had to turn away then.  He knew if Johnny was still unaccounted for by morning the odds that he’d be found alive were slim to none.

     Chris paced the deck while Roy sat in a chair staring into the darkness.  The teenager’s voice broke the stillness of the night.

     “I wish I could be helping them search.”

     “I know you do. I wish I could help them, too.  But right now they have all the man-power they need.  Johnny has a lot of friends, Chris.  Every off-duty fireman in this county is at that reservoir looking for him.”

     “But if they haven’t found him by now--”

     “If they haven’t found him by now, nothing.  I’ve seen your Uncle Johnny walk away with barely a scratch from things that would have killed another man.”

     Chris studied his father’s face in the darkness.  “But you don’t think he’s still alive this time.”

     Roy gave a heavy sigh.  He wouldn’t lie to his sixteen year old about this issue.

     “He was swept into water that wasn’t much warmer than fifty degrees.  If they haven’t found him yet. . .”

     The paramedic was unable to finish his sentence.  He knew Johnny was probably dead, but he wasn’t ready to admit that out loud.

     Chris looked up at the stars.  He could barely speak past his tears.

     “We had a lot of good times with him.  Camping.  I always loved it when he took us camping.  Or just to his ranch for the weekend.  Or even to his apartment when Jen and I were little.  I never thought you could have fun in an apartment, but Uncle Johnny always made it fun.”

     Roy smiled.  “He had a knack for doing that.”

     “And the carnivals, and bowling, and out for pizza, to Dodgers games, horse back riding.  He took us a lot of places, Dad.  Places he didn’t have to.  After all, we weren’t his kids.  And then when he’d come here to baby-sit Jen and I loved that best.”

     “I know.  Your mother and I used to get the feeling you two were chasing us out of the house on purpose just so your Uncle Johnny would come stay with you.”

     “I think we did more often than not.  Did I ever tell you about the time Uncle Johnny got the ghosts out of Jen’s room?”

     “No.”

     Chris laughed.  “Remember how she used to be scared of the dark?  Always said her room was filled with ghosts?”

     “Yeah?”

     “Well, one night when Uncle Johnny was baby-sitting Jen was really upset about those imaginary ghosts.  So Uncle Johnny sprinkled sugar all over her room, down the hallway, through the living room, and out the front door.  He told Jen the ghosts would eat the sugar, following its trail right out of the house.”

     “Oh, so now I know why we fought ants for the next month.”

     “Yeah, now you know.  But you should have seen the look on Jen’s face. She thought Uncle Johnny was the greatest guy on the face of the earth after that night.”

     Chris started crying harder. “And I guess he was because he saved John tonight, but wouldn’t take my hand when I--”

     “Oh geez, Chris, save the eulogy for some dead guy who needs it, will ya’?”

     If it was possible to jump a mile into the air, Chris and Roy were sure they did.  The voice that came out of the darkness was familiar to both of them, and so was the bedraggled figure that trudged around the corner of the house seconds later.

     “Johnny!”

     “Uncle Johnny!”

     Because of Roy’s leg Chris was the first one to make it to Johnny’s side.  He latched onto a cold arm and helped the man to the deck.  Johnny had to bite back a groan as his sore leg muscles refused to be forced to climb.  Roy bent down and hooked his right hand beneath his partner’s other arm.  Between himself and Chris they got Johnny up the stairs and into the house.

     Joanne and Jennifer were just as startled as Roy and Chris had been when John Gage was ushered into their kitchen.  He gratefully accepted their hugs, if only because the heat from their bodies warmed him up a bit.  Roy immediately recognized what his partner needed.

     “Jennifer, get some blankets from the hall closet. Chris, help Uncle Johnny to the couch.  Joanne, call dispatch and tell them he’s been found.  Have them send a squad over here.”

     “No,” Johnny said from the living room where Chris was already urging him to a seated position on the sofa.  “No squad. I’m okay.”

     “Yes, a squad.  It’s either that, or Chris and I take you to Rampart right now.”

     “Okay, okay.  A squad.  But all they’re going to say is that I need a hot shower, dry clothes, some supper, and a warm bed.”

     “And if that’s what they say then you can get all those things here.  But if they say more than that then you’ll get those things at Rampart.”

     Johnny shot his partner his best scowl, even though he was fully aware it would do him little good.  He was grateful for the two blankets Jennifer wrapped tightly around him, and the towel she used to begin drying his damp hair.

     “Thanks, Jenny Bean.”  The paramedic looked up at Roy. “Is John okay?  And Kyle?  Are they both all right?”

     “Yes, thanks to you they’re fine.”

     “And to Chris,” Johnny said.

     “And to Chris as well,” Roy acknowledged.  “Other than being cold and scared, they were okay. I imagine Kyle’s doing the same thing John is right now.  Sleeping.”

     “Thank God.  I couldn’t have hung onto them much longer.  If Chris hadn’t come along when he did the boys would have gone into the water with me.”

     “What sent you over to the reservoir anyway?”

     “I don’t know.  Just a hunch I guess.  I’d looked everywhere else I could think of, and suddenly it dawned on me how kids are always drawn to water.  I didn’t think John knew about the creek or reservoir, but I figured if they walked far enough they were bound to run across one or the other.”

     “And just how did you get back here?”

     “Same way I got there.  Walked.”

     “Johnny, there’s more than one hundred firefighters out there looking for you!  You mean to tell me you walked all the way back here without running across any of them?”

     “Do you think if I had run across any of them I would have trudged three miles in soaking wet clothes at this time of night?”

     “With you, who knows?”

     Jennifer caught Chris’s eye over the top of Johnny’s head.  The teenagers exchanged amused smiles at the familiar interaction going on between their father and his best friend.

     “Well, I didn’t see anyone.  But then I cut through backyards most of the way here so that might explain it.  Oh, and if one of your neighbors reports a peeping Tom that was me.”

     “What did you do now?”

     “I didn’t do anything!  She just happened to look out her kitchen window and see me walking through her yard.  It must have freaked her out because she screamed to high heaven.”

     Before further bickering could ensue a squad arrived at the scene bearing one rookie paramedic whose nametag read, Mitch Jenson.  His partner had remained at the reservoir to help put away the equipment that had been used in the search for Johnny.  He assured Roy that word had just arrived on the scene that Johnny was safe and at the DeSoto house.

     The young man Roy and Johnny only knew by sight took Johnny’s blood pressure, pulse, and respirations, then checked his pupils while feeling his skull for any signs of bumps, cuts, or bruises.

     “Did you swallow any water, John?”  Mitch asked.

     “No.  Just spit a lot out.”

      From his standpoint as an observer nothing seemed remiss to Roy.  Therefore, when Johnny assured everyone that he hadn’t lost consciousness, but had simply fallen asleep with exhaustion once he reached the creek’s bank, Roy didn’t put up a fuss when his partner refused to allow the attending paramedic to contact Rampart.  He signed the waiver of care Mitch put in front of him, then thanked him for his time.  After Mitch left Johnny stood on weak legs. 

     “And just where do you think you’re going, Mr. Gage?”  Joanne asked with hands on her hips.

     “Home.”

     “I think not.”

     “But--”

     “Don’t even start with me, Johnny.  Roy already told you if you didn’t have to go to Rampart then you’re staying here for the night.”  Joanne turned to her children.  “Jennifer, heat up some soup for your Uncle Johnny.  If I remember correctly chicken noodle is his favorite.  And make him a sandwich please.  Chris,

get Uncle Johnny a pair of your sweat pants, socks, and a sweatshirt.  Your father has a package of brand new boxer shorts in his top dresser drawer.  Open it and get a pair out for Johnny.  And turn down the spare bed in your room then put an extra blanket on it.”

     “Joanne--” Johnny tried to protest again, only to be ignored.

     “Roy, head your partner in the direction of the bathroom and that hot shower he wants.  Get him a clean towel and washcloth out of the linen closet please. Johnny, make sure you clean those scrapes on your hands and arms.  There’s a tube of Neosporin in the medicine cabinet you can use when you’re done in the shower.”

     At this point Johnny decided further protest would do him no good.  Joanne was doing a better job of bossing her troops than General Eisenhower had ever thought of.

     Johnny stood under the hot shower for twenty minutes that night.  The water felt good against his aching muscles, and he was grateful for the soap and shampoo that washed the smell of dirty creek water from his skin and hair.  When he stepped out of the tub he made quick work of drying off, rubbing some Neosporin ointment into his cuts, then getting into the clothes Chris had brought him.  Roy’s boxers were a bit baggy in the waist, but at least they stayed up.  If nothing else it was nice that Chris was currently going through a lanky stage.  The sweat pants fit Johnny just fine.  The sweatshirt was a little short in the arms, but he could live with that.  For now he was just thankful to have warm clothing to put on.

     The ever-efficient Joanne had Johnny’s wet clothes cycling in the washing machine by the time the paramedic came out of the bathroom.  He’d missed a quick visit from the Station 51 A-shift.  Roy had assured everyone Johnny was fine, then sent them on their way telling them Johnny was exhausted and needed to rest.  Johnny was indebted to Roy for that.  It was now after eleven o’clock and he felt like he could fall asleep standing up.  Thank God the next day was Sunday and this was the A-shift’s weekend off.

     Despite everyone’s efforts to keep the house as quiet as possible, the commotion woke John.  As soon as his mother entered his room the three year old remembered the happenings of the day and began to cry for his Uncle Johnny.  Joanne carried him to the kitchen where Johnny sat eating his soup and sandwich with Roy, Jennifer, and Chris seated at the table with him.  Roy wished he had his camera at that moment.  The look on John’s face was priceless when he caught sight of Johnny.  He practically flew from Joanne’s arms and into Johnny’s lap.  Johnny scooted his chair back and picked the child up.

     “Hey there, Little Pally, last time I saw you, you were lookin’ like Ernie after he’d spent too long in the tub with his rubber ducky.”

     Despite the gentle teasing, John buried his face in Johnny’s chest and started to cry.  He knew he’d done wrong by leaving Kyle’s yard and understood enough about what had happened to realize his Uncle Johnny almost died trying to save him.

     “I sowwy.  I sowwy, Unca Johnny.”

     “Don’t cry, John.”  Johnny rubbed the boy’s back.  “Don’t cry.   It’s okay.  I know you’re sorry.  Everything’s all right now.  Everything’s all right.”

     It took a while for John to sniffle his tears away, but after he did he stayed wrapped in one of Johnny’s arms until the paramedic had finished eating his supper.  It was then that Joanne declared it bedtime for the entire DeSoto household.  Chris and Jennifer made quick work of carrying Johnny’s dishes to the dishwasher for their mother, then lights were turned off and everyone headed for the bedrooms.  By the time Johnny laid John in his youth bed the little boy was sound asleep.  Johnny left the tucking in part of the job to Joanne and Roy.  He was so tired all he wanted to do was drop to the twin bed Chris had ready for him.

     And drop Johnny did.  He took off the sweatshirt and tossed it to the end of the bed, but left on the sweatpants and socks.  He pulled up the sheet and blankets, then hit the pillows like a brick.  He never heard Jennifer say goodnight to him, nor was he aware of Roy and Joanne doing the same. 

     Chris came in the room after brushing his teeth.  He was as quiet as possible as he changed out of his clothes and into his pajama bottoms.  He soon realized a bomb blast probably wouldn’t wake Johnny at this point. 

     The teenager shut out the overhead light and climbed in his own bed.  Right before he pulled up the covers he whispered, “Good night, Uncle Johnny. And thank you.  Thank you so much.”

     Like the rest of his household, five minutes later Chris was sound asleep.

____________________________________

     Chris DeSoto wasn’t certain what woke him at six o’clock the next morning other than to say it was a sound he couldn’t immediately identify.  He stretched as he heard a rumble of thunder.  He caught a glimpse of lightening flashing behind the closed curtains of his bedroom window, then heard the patter of rain on the roof. 

     The teenager enjoyed the feeling of Sunday morning.  No need to hurry and get moving.  It wasn’t a school day, and over the past year he’d managed to convince his mother not to make him attend church on those Sundays he’d rather sleep in.  He doubted anyone would be attending church this Sunday morning.  After the Saturday the DeSotos had experience Chris figured no one in his household would be stirring much before nine o’clock.  Not even John, who was usually up at the crack of dawn.

     I’ll lay here until about eight, then get up and cook pancakes and sausage for everyone.  Mom deserves the break, and it would be a good way to tell Uncle Johnny thanks.

     The boy dozed off as the rain outside intensified.  Over the next hour he was vaguely aware of someone coughing.  When he surfaced from sleep again he realized what had woke him up to begin with. 

     It must have been Uncle Johnny coughing.

     The teenager hiked himself up on his elbows and looked across the space between his bed and the one Johnny was sleeping in. Chris could tell Johnny was huddled under the blankets with his back to him, but it was too dark to see anything else.  When Johnny coughed again, a harsh barking cough that sounded like it was threatening to choke him, Chris called softly, “Uncle Johnny?  Uncle Johnny, are you awake?”

     When he received no answer Chris reached up  and flicked on the lamp that sat on the nightstand between the two beds. 

     “Uncle Johnny, do you want me to get you a glass of water? Or some cough medicine?”

     “John,” Johnny rasped between coughs.  “Get. . .get John.”

     “John’s fine. He’s in his bed sleeping.”

     “John. . .Chris.  Get. . .get John. Take. . .take him.  Can’t. . .can’t hold

him. . .any. . .any longer.”

     Chris watched as Johnny began thrashing in the bed, repeating his pleas in a way that made him sound like he was fighting for air.  Chris threw back his covers.  He thought the man must be having a bad dream.

     The teenager placed a hand on Johnny’s shoulder with the intention of shaking the paramedic awake.  He yanked his hand back with surprise as soon as he came in contact with Johnny’s skin.  It was like touching a hot stove. 

     Chris turned Johnny on his back.  The man’s face was flaming red, and sweat trickled from his hairline to his neck.

     “Uncle Johnny?  Uncle Johnny, wake up!”

     All Chris got for his efforts was another series of barking coughs, and then gasping, delirious cries for John.

     “Uncle Johnny!  Uncle Johnny, come on!  Wake up!”

     When the teen still had no success rousing the paramedic he hurdled his bed and threw his door open.  He ran down the hall calling, “Dad!  Dad!  Dad!”

     Roy opened the master bedroom door before Chris got the chance to pound on it.

     “Chris, what’s wrong with you?  It’s seven o’clock on Sunday morning for crying out. . .”

     “Dad, it’s Uncle Johnny!  He’s got a fever and I can’t get him to wake up!”

     Roy was barely aware of Joanne jumping out of bed at Chris’s words, nor of the bleary eyed Jennifer who poked her head into the hallway.  Roy left his cane behind and ran after his son as fast as his cast, taped ribs, and bum leg would allow.

     “Chris, get me my medical bag from the hall closet.”

     Chris raced for the bag his father kept at the house for emergencies. 

     “What’s going on?” Jennifer asked as she came abreast of her brother.

     “Uncle Johnny’s sick,” the boy said as he dashed back to his bedroom.  He climbed over his bed and brought the bag to his father’s side.  By this time his mother had wet a towel with cool water and was running it over Johnny’s face.

     Roy took Johnny’s blood pressure, pulse, and respirations.  Chris tore a page from a spiral notebook sitting on top of his desk and wrote the information down for his father.  Roy placed the stethoscope to Johnny’s chest.  He listened to both lungs, then had Chris help him lift Johnny to a sitting position.  He placed the stethoscope on Johnny’s back, listening again.  Chris wasn’t sure what his father discovered other than to know it wasn’t good when Roy mumbled, “Dammit, Johnny, you sure did swallow water.  And God only knows what else,” as he picked up the phone from the nightstand.  He dialed Rampart’s emergency room by memory.  As he waited for the call to be answered he looked at Joanne and Jennifer. 

     “Keep sponging him off with cool water.  Chris, get dressed, then put a blanket and three pillows in the back of your mother’s car.  We’ll have to take Johnny to Rampart.”

     Before Chris could ask what was wrong with Johnny his father was talking to Dixie McCall.  As Chris slipped into jeans, socks, and a sweatshirt in the bathroom across the hall he heard his father briefing Dixie about Johnny’s unexpected swim the evening before, then give her the paramedic’s vital signs.

     “Chris and I are bringing him in now, Dix.  No, I’m not calling for a squad.  I can get him there faster myself.  Just have a gurney and a couple orderlies waiting for us by the doors.”

     By the time Chris returned from putting the requested items in his mother’s Impala his father was dressed as well.  Or as dressed as a man could be who had one arm in a cast and tape around his ribs, and a wife who wasn’t able to offer him assistance at the moment.

     Chris made quick work of buttoning his dad’s shirt for him, then dropped to his knees and tied Roy’s shoes.  He could hear his mother trying to soothe Johnny as he thrashed in the bed and called for John. 

     Joanne and Jennifer moved out of the way when Roy and Chris approached.  They tried to get Johnny to a sitting position again, but he fought them. 

     “Johnny, come on, calm down,” Roy ordered.  “I need you to calm down and let us get you to the car.”

     “Roy, let us help,” Joanne said, referring to herself and her daughter.

“With your arm and ribs the way they are you and Chris can’t get Johnny there by yourselves.”

     As soon as they had Johnny in a sitting position Joanne wrapped a blanket around his bare shoulders.  Jennifer held it in place while her mother, father, and brother alternated between walking and dragging her Uncle Johnny to the car. 

     Roy was thankful the car was in the garage and not sitting in the driveway.  If nothing else that meant they didn’t have to walk Johnny through the pouring rain.  Roy wasn’t able to bend in order to help his family get Johnny in the back seat, but they managed to do the job without him.  Still, the paramedic in Roy couldn’t keep from calling out instructions.

     “Chris, keep your hand on top of Johnny’s head so he doesn’t bump it on the frame of the car.  Jen, make sure his upper body is propped against the pillows.  He needs as much help breathing right now as we can give him.  Jo, cover him with that blanket.”

     Joanne assisted Roy in getting in the back seat with Johnny while Chris slipped behind the wheel.  Jennifer handed her father his medical bag and a towel filled with ice.

     “Chris, drive carefully,” Joanne ordered.  She looked into the back of the car at her husband.  “Call me as soon as you know anything.”

     “I will.”

     Joanne and Jennifer stood together in the garage watching Chris back the car onto the desolate street.  They didn’t reenter the house until the car turned the corner and was out of sight.  As they headed down the hallway toward Chris’s room in order to pick up the wet towels and scattered blankets, Joanne peeked in on John.

     The woman gave a sigh of relief when she found her youngest child still sleeping soundly.  He was going to be upset enough as it was when he woke up and found his Uncle Johnny gone.  He had been promised the evening before that Johnny would eat breakfast with them.  If nothing else John had been spared the trauma of watching his ‘bestest bubby’ being loaded into the car and sped off to Rampart.  At this moment all Joanne DeSoto could do was thank God for small favors.

__________________________________

     Three hours passed before Roy and Chris got word on Johnny.  Dixie had them wait in the nurse’s lounge so they had both privacy and a soda machine at their disposal. 

     “Chris, let me take you to the cafeteria for breakfast,” Roy told his son as he watched the boy drink his third Coke.  “You must be starving by now.”

     “In a little while.  I wanna be here when Doctor Brackett comes for us.”

     “I can leave word with Dixie as to where we’re at.  He’ll have us paged and then we’ll come right back--”

     Before Roy could finish his sentence Kelly Brackett entered the room.  He slipped into the chair next to Roy and motioned Chris to have a seat, too.

     “It’s just what you suspected, Roy.  Pneumonia.”

     Roy shook his head with disgust.  “I knew I should have checked him out myself last night.  That Jenson kid did okay, but he’s a rookie.  I might have heard something he missed.  And by now I should have learned not to trust John Gage when he says he’s fine.”

     “Don’t be too hard on your partner, Roy, or on yourself.  With as cold, tired, and achy as Johnny was he wouldn’t have noticed the initial symptoms.  Yes, he should have allowed the squad to transport him here as a precaution, but I’m not even going to waste my time arguing with him over that issue.  It won’t do me any good, so suffice to say we’re lucky he stayed with you last night, and Chris heard him coughing early this morning, and from there realized something was seriously wrong.”

     “But he’s gonna be okay, right?”  Chris asked.

     Kelly Brackett smiled.

     “He should be fine, Chris.  I’ve started him on antibiotics and we’ve got him on oxygen.  He’ll be getting breathing treatments to aid in keeping his lungs clear.   He’s already had his first one.  If all goes as I anticipate it will, Johnny will be released in five to seven days.  But don’t tell him that.  If his health doesn’t allow me to keep that time table he’ll drive me crazy until I do send him home.”

     “I won’t say anything,” Chris promised, while Roy simply chuckled because he knew from past experience exactly what Doctor Brackett meant. 

     The doctor shook his head in amazement as he stood.

     “Based on what you told me brought Johnny to us in the first place I’d say it’s about time someone molds an action figure in his likeness.  I have visions of myself being eighty years old and still patching up a seventy year old John Gage.”

     “If anyone could pull that off, Doc, it’d be Johnny.  There’s a lot of days when I doubt he’ll ever slow down.”

     “I don’t think he knows the meaning of the word, Roy, though I’ve slowed him down for a while. One of the medications I’ve got him on will put an elephant to sleep.  It even worked on our active Johnny.”

     “Can I see him for a couple minutes before Chris and I head home?”

     “Sure.  Just don’t wake him.”

     “I won’t.”

     “He’s on the third floor in room 310.”

     “Thanks.”

     The doctor said goodbye to Roy and Chris, then left the room.  Roy reached for his wallet and pulled out a five dollar bill.

     “Here.  You go to the cafeteria and have some breakfast while I’m with Johnny.  I’ll meet you down there in about fifteen minutes or so.”

     “Can’t I see Uncle Johnny, too?”

     “Well. . .I guess so.  But you heard Doc Brackett.  He’s asleep.  We can’t wake him up.”

     “I know.  I won’t.”

     “We can come back this evening when he’s awake, Chris.  You can visit with him then.”

     “I’d like to do that, but I wanna see him now, too.”

     Roy shrugged as he returned his money to his wallet, not really sure why his son would feel this urgency to see Johnny.

     “All right.  Let’s go then.”

     Since Roy didn’t have his cane with him Chris helped him stand.  He remained close to Roy’s side as they made their way to the elevator, then walked the corridor to Johnny’s room. 

     Right before Roy pushed Johnny’s door open he turned to Chris and smiled.

     “I’m really proud of you, son.”

     “Proud of me?”

      “For the way you’ve been helping your mother since I was injured. For the way you helped me with Johnny this morning, and for the way you’re helping me now. It’s nice to know I can count on you when I need you.”

     Chris swallowed the guilt that threatened to overwhelm him at his father’s words.

     “Yeah. . .uh. . .thanks, Dad.”

     Father and son quietly entered Johnny’s room.

     Just like they had been told by Kelly Brackett, Johnny was in a deep sleep.  An IV ran through a vein in his right arm, and an oxygen mask rested over his nose and mouth. The head of the bed was raised to an angle that left Johnny in a position that was a cross between sitting and reclining.  His face was still flushed with fever, though not nearly as red as it had been when Chris first tried to wake him.  The paramedic was dressed in a hospital gown now with a sheet drawn up to his chest.  The absence of a cooling blanket caused Roy to deduce Rampart’s medical staff had gotten Johnny’s temperature to a reasonable level.

     Roy and Chris stood by Johnny’s bedside a few minutes exchanging small talk that ranged from Chris’s, “He looks better than he did a couple hours ago,” to Roy’s, “We’ll have to get a few things for Johnny from his house like pajamas and his razor when we go by there to feed the animals later today.”

     Just when Roy was about to tell his son they should return home Chris wandered over to the window.  He looked out at the rain, totally oblivious to the fact he was mirroring Johnny’s actions from the night when Roy had been injured at the Weber fire.

     “Chris, are you ready to go?”

     “I. . .Dad. . .I. . .you’d don’t have any right to be proud of me.”

     “What?”

     “You said you were proud of me, and you shouldn’t be.”

     “Why not?”

     “Just because.”

     Roy moved away from Johnny’s bedside so his voice wouldn’t awaken his partner. 

     “Chris, what would make you say such a thing?  Of course I’m proud of you.  I have every reason to be.”

     “No. . .I. . .I lied to you and Mom about helping Uncle Johnny with his chores right after he was hurt.  I didn’t.  I didn’t help him at all.  And I’ve been mean to him.  Said some things to him. . .lots of things that I shouldn’t have.”

     “What kind of things?”

     “I blamed Uncle Johnny for what happened to you the night you were injured.”  Chris brought his gaze from the window to his father.  “I blamed him for leaving you behind in that house.”

     “I see.”

     “I told him. . .I told him he wasn’t really part of our family.  That he wasn’t really my uncle.”

     “Oh, Chris,” Roy said, the disappointment in his tone plain to hear.  “How could you?  Do you know how much that must have hurt him?”

     “I know.  But at the time I didn’t care.  I was just so worried about you, Dad, and so mad, and. . .and. . .and. . .”

     When Chris started to cry Roy moved forward and wrapped his good arm around him.  Chris allowed his father to hug him even though he didn’t think he deserved this show of affection.  When Roy dropped his arm Chris wiped a hand across his eyes, then made his way to Johnny’s bedside.

     “I learned something at that reservoir yesterday.”

     “What was that?”

     “That some choices are tough to make, but are necessary.  After I took John from Uncle Johnny I offered him my hand so I could help him out of the water.  He refused to take it.”

     “He knew if he did he’d pull you and John in with him,” Roy surmised. 

     “I know. I wanted to stay and help Uncle Johnny, but he kept yelling at me to get John to safety.  I knew my first obligation was to John because he was too little to take care of himself.  That’s also when I knew what it must have been like for Uncle Johnny the night you got hurt.  He wanted to help you, but his first obligation was to that boy.”

     “You’re right, Chris, it was.  Despite our friendship, whenever Johnny and I go out on a call our first obligation is always to our victim.  Always.  That’s proven to be a difficult thing for both of us to live with on occasion, but nonetheless it’s a fact of life.”

     “I realize that now.”  Chris looked from Johnny to his father.  “Dad, I found out yesterday that it’s pretty awful to have to make a choice between two people you love.  I hope. . .well I hope I’m never put in that position again.”

     “I hope you’re not either, Chris.  I’m sure it wasn’t an easy place to be.”

     “No, it wasn’t.  And I’ll make sure I tell Uncle Johnny that when I apologize to him for being such a jerk.”

     “That sounds like a good idea to me,”  Roy agreed.  “Now come on, let’s get going.  If we stand around talking much longer we’ll wake your Uncle Johnny and then Doctor Brackett will have my hide.”

     Chris chuckled.  He walked with Roy to the door and opened it for his dad.  Chris cast one last long look at the man he had for so long thought of as his ‘uncle’ before following his father from the room.   He smiled when he felt his dad’s arm go around his shoulders and heard his father say softly, “Sometimes the measure of a man is in his ability to admit his mistakes.  You did that a few minutes ago, Chris.  I want you to know that I’m still proud of you, son.”

     Chris turned and hugged his father, not carrying who might see.

     “Thanks, Dad.  Thanks.”

__________________________________

     Three weeks passed in which good health returned to both Roy and Johnny.   Johnny was hosting a cookout at his home for the DeSoto family on a Sunday afternoon.  The next day Roy would be returning to duty at Station 51.  There was another reason to celebrate as well.  On Thursday Johnny had been found innocent of any wrong doing by the Fire Department’s Inquest Board.  What Terence Weber thought of that Johnny didn’t know, but if nothing else the paramedic walked away from the incident with the assurance that everyone involved; from Roy, to Captain Stanley, to the big guys at head quarters, felt Johnny had made the right choices and done the very best job he could have considering the circumstances.

     Chris watched from the deck as Johnny swung John through the air.  The little boy squealed with delight, just like Chris himself used to do so many years ago now when Johnny did the same thing to him.  Ever since his near drowning experience John couldn’t get enough of his Uncle Johnny.  For as young as he was he seemed to sense he owed his life to the paramedic and would cling to him whenever they were together until Joanne or Roy sent him off to play so Johnny could have some peace.

     Johnny swung John around one last time, then set the boy on his feet.

     “You dizzy enough now, Little Pally?”

     “No, Unca Johnny.  More!  More!”

     “John, leave Uncle Johnny alone now,” Joanne called from where she sat relaxing on the deck.  “Go play with Joe or the kittens.”

     “But, Mommy, Unca Johnny is my bestest fwiend.  He wuvs to pway wif me.”

     “I’m sure he does, but he also likes to visit with Daddy.  Now you do as I asked or you’ll have to sit in the house by yourself.”

     “I be back, Unca Johnny!”  John promised as he ran toward the barn.

     “Now’s your chance to escape, partner,” Roy said from where he stood flipping hamburgers.

     “No need,” Johnny said as he joined his friends on the deck.  “After all, I wuv pwaying wif John.  I’m his bestest fwiend.”

     Joanne laughed at Johnny as he took over the cooking duties from Roy.  Fifteen minutes later Jennifer was called from the corral where she was riding Cheyenne and John was called from the barn.  The children were sent in the house to wash their hands, then everyone sat down to lunch.  

     After the meal was eaten and the picnic table cleared of paper plates and soda cans Roy heard Chris ask Johnny if he’d like to go for walk.   John tried to horn in on his brother’s invitation but Joanne put a firm stop to that idea.  Before John could voice his displeasure Jennifer was taking him to the corral to ride Cheyenne with her.

     When Chris and Johnny had walked far enough away from the house and barn that they couldn’t be overheard Chris took a deep breath and said,  “Uncle Johnny, I’m sorry about the way I acted when Dad was hurt, and sorry about what I said to you that day I brought you home.  I was wrong.  I shouldn’t have--”

     “Forget it, Chris.”

     “No--”

     “Chris, regardless of whether you were wrong or not, I understood how you felt.”

     “But still, I had no right to speak to you like I did.  I shouldn’t have said those things.  I--”

     “We all say things we shouldn’t at times, Chris.  Especially when we’re upset.  Believe me, it’s happened to me on more than one occasion.”

     “I know, but--”

     Johnny held up a hand, not allowing for further apologies.  “Chris, just drop it.  I said I understood and I mean that.”

     Though they’d walked too far to see the barn now, Chris could hear his little brother’s laughter.

     “Everything’s changing,” the teenager said.

     “Pardon?”

     “It seems like just yesterday that John was a baby and now he’s only a month away from turning four.”

     Johnny chuckled.  “How do you think I feel?  It seems like just yesterday that your dad invited me to your house for dinner for the first time and I was meeting you and Jenny.  But that yesterday will be eleven years ago come January.”

     “Someday soon you and Dad won’t be partners anymore, will you?”

     Johnny looked at the boy, wondering how he knew that changes were going to take place very shortly.  To the best of Johnny’s knowledge Roy hadn’t discussed his plans to take the captain’s exam with anyone but himself and Joanne.

     “Well, Chris, things change,” was all Johnny said. 

     “I know Dad is thinking about going for captain.”

     “How do you know that?”

     “Because I overheard him and Mom talking.”

     “Oh.”

     “Are you going to take the exam, too?”

     “I doubt it.”

     “Why?”

     “Because I love being a paramedic.”

     “So does my dad.”

     “That’s true, but he also has three kids to put through college.  The extra money he’ll earn as a captain will really help out.”

     “I heard Dad say the department offered you a teaching position.  Are you gonna take it?”

     For two years now Kelly Brackett had wanted to move the bulk of the paramedic instruction program out of the hospital and into the hands of the men who did the work on a daily basis.  When he had first approached Johnny and Roy with the idea a six months ago Roy hadn’t been interested because he already had his sights set on being a station captain.  Johnny; however, had been very interested and Brackett was encouraging him to be the head instructor and coordinator of the program.  At this point Johnny gave Chris the most honest answer he could.

     “That kinda depends on what your dad does.  If he decides not to take the captain’s exam, or doesn’t pass it for some reason, neither of which I foresee happening, then no.  No, I won’t take the teaching position.  But if he does make captain then I’ll be giving it serious consideration.”

     “Will you still get to be a paramedic if you do that?”

     “Yeah.  I’ll be dividing my time between the classroom and the field.”

     “Oh.  I suppose that means more money, too, huh?”

     “It does.”  Johnny smiled at the boy who was walking along beside him with slumped shoulders.  “Chris, come on.  Just because your dad and I move on with our careers doesn’t mean we’ll stop being friends.  Or that I’ll stop being your Uncle Johnny.”

     Chris smiled in return.  “I know.  It’s just that it’ll be different than how it used to be.  When I was a kid I always loved it when Mom brought me and Jen to the station to see you and Dad.  I still like to stop by there and see you guys.”

     “So now you’ll just have to stop by two stations.  The one where your dad is captain, and the one where I’m working with a trainee.”

     “I guess I can do that.”  Chris looked up at the mountain looming before them.  “My dad wants me to go to college but I’m not so sure about it.   I don’t know what I want to major in to begin with.”

     “College is a couple years away yet.  You have plenty of time to decide.”

     “You know what I really want to do?”

     “What?”

     “Be a paramedic.”

     “I see,” Johnny said in a noncommittal tone.  If he encouraged Chris to go that route, and bypass college along the way, Roy would kill him.

     “But I need you to talk to my dad about for me.  He’ll never agree to it otherwise.”

     “Chris, I don’t think--”

     “Please, Uncle Johnny.  Please.”

     Johnny sighed.  He never had been able to resist the word ‘please’ when coming from the mouth of a DeSoto offspring.

     “I’ll tell you what.  Next year at this time, when you’re a senior, if you still feel this way I’ll help you talk to your dad.  But until that time I want you to really give college a lot of consideration.  You know, if you’re interested in the medical field there’s lots of choices out there career-wise.”

     “I know.  But it’s not just medicine I’m interest in.  It’s being a fireman, too.”

     That’s what I was afraid of, Sport, and your dad will blow a gasket when he hears this.

     “Well, let’s just wait and see how you feel a year from now.”

     “I won’t feel any differently.”

     Johnny smiled. “Then maybe I’d better be moved out of the state by then.”

     “Dad will really be that mad?”

     “Let’s put it this way, he won’t be happy.  He’s always wanted all of you kids to go to college.  That’s what he’s saved for all these years, Chris.  But if you decide college really isn’t right for you then I think, eventually, your dad will come to understand that.”

     “He’ll understand it, Uncle Johnny.  Especially if you talk to him.”

     “Chris, you’re giving me a little too much credit here.”

     “And if you’re teaching by then you could even be my instructor.  Dad couldn’t argue with that.”

     “Now you’re getting way ahead of yourself, Sport.  Tell you what, let’s keep this conversation between us and see what time brings.  Agreed?”

     “Agreed.”

     As the two turned to walk back toward the house Chris placed a hand on the paramedic’s shoulder. 

     “Johnny?”

     “Yeah?”

     “Thanks for being my uncle.  I know it’s not by blood, but that it’s by choice means all that much more to me.”

     “You’re welcome, Chris,” was all Johnny said as he and Roy’s oldest son continued their journey to the ranch yard.

     A number of tough choices faced John Gage, Roy DeSoto, and Chris DeSoto in the coming months.  Regardless of what path they each chose to walk, Chris’s words told Johnny that, no matter what, he’d always be considered a member of the family.  And that’s one choice Johnny didn’t want to ever see change.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~