The Show Must Go On

In January of 1985, Chris DeSoto cohearces John Gage into breaking some news to Roy that both Chris and Johnny know Roy doesn’t want to hear.   Chris’s request of Johnny forces the man to be an unwelcome messenger in Roy’s eyes.  A messenger Roy blames for Chris’s decision to drop out of college in favor of joining the fire department.    While Roy is trying to work through the disappointment his oldest son’s decision brings him, and the anger he feels towards his best friend in regards to this decision, his youngest son is on an outing with Johnny.   Despite Roy’s anger, he didn’t put a halt to Johnny’s plan of taking John to the circus for the boy’s sixth birthday.   By the time the day ends, Roy and a young girl named Heather Langford, learn just how deep the bonds of friendship run, and how much one friend is willing to do for another.

The events depicted in The Show Must Go On take place between the events depicted in No Easy Choice and Dancing With The Devil.   No Easy Choice and Dancing With The Devil can be found in Kenda’s Emergency! Library.

The Show Must Go On

By: Kenda

As with all of my stories, the structure of the Los Angeles County Fire Department, and its paramedic-training program, is fictionalized.  In this fictional universe, Johnny’s rank of Chief Paramedic Instructor would be equal to Roy’s rank as Captain. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Excerpt from Dancing With The Devil

It had been Johnny whom Chris had coerced into talking to his dad about the fact that Chris was dropping out of college. It had been Johnny whom Chris had coerced into telling Roy that his oldest son had signed on with the fire department to go through paramedic training. Not that Roy wasn't proud of having been a paramedic himself, and wouldn't be proud of Chris if he attained that goal, too. But above all else, Roy DeSoto wanted his three children to earn college degrees.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Chapter 1

Dust billowed around Heather Langford’s heels as she skipped down the path on her way to school. Bhagi’s elephants, Chanda, Kamala, and Madri, trumpeted a greeting to her.  The twelve-year-old stopped in front of the massive beasts. Their ankles were encircled by chains and tethered to iron hooks strong enough to keep a giant in place.  One by one they bent their huge gray heads and curled their trunks, as Heather patted them and cooed in a language only she and the elephants seemed to understand. 

Heather looked at Samara, tethered twenty yards away.  Her heart ached for the elephant.  Samara still bore the scars of the beating Bhagi had given her four days earlier when the elephant refused to perform at their show in San Francisco. Heather knew why Samara wouldn’t perform, and Bhagi, with all his knowledge of elephants, should have known why, too.  He had sold Samara’s sister, Sakari, to pay off his gambling debts. Jack Benton, the man who owned Benton Brothers Circus, had told Bhagi the debts had to be paid or else.  Every person who worked for Jack Benton, and even children of Benton’s employees like Heather, knew what ‘or else’ meant.  It meant you were fired, even if you were one of the best elephant trainers anywhere in the world. 

To keep his job, Bhagi sold Sakari to a zoo. Samara hadn’t been the same since. Elephants create family units like humans do.  When a member leaves the family for any reason, the other elephants grieve. They even cry real tears, like humans do - or so Bhagi had often told Heather back when he used to be nice.  But that was before his wife, Kumari, ran off with a man from another circus one night when they were putting on a huge show with eight other circuses in Las Vegas.  That had been almost a year ago now, and Bhagi was a different man from who he’d been when Kumari lived with him.  He never used to drink, or beat his animals, or gamble, and he never would have sold Sakari back when he was married. 

Heather’s father had tried to explain to her what a divorce could do to a man. Especially to a man like Bhagi, who was from India, where strong beliefs were held about the place a woman was to keep in her husband’s household. Heather hadn’t understood much of what her father had said.  After all, didn’t Bhagi feel like he still had a family amongst the circus people? 

Heather’s father always said everyone who worked for the Benton Brothers Circus, including Mr. Benton himself, was family, and Heather supposed that was true.  Other than her parents, and her eight-year-old brother, Jay, Heather really had no other family to speak of.  Yes, there were aunts and uncles and cousins and maternal grandparents who lived in North Carolina, but she only saw them once a year when the circus was traveling up the eastern seaboard.  They were all nice people, but they didn’t seem like family in the way Kristof, the Hungarian lion tamer did, or in the way Helenka and Rurik, the Russian acrobats did, or the way the twin bare-back riders, Juliana and Jolene, did, or even the way Mr. Benton himself did, though Heather was usually too shy to say anything to the imposing man with the ram-rod straight posture and the slicked back hair the color of coal.  She never managed to get out more than a quiet, “Hello,” before scurrying out of his path.  Her mother and father got along fine with him though, but then, her father had been born a circus kid, just like Heather had. His parents had worked for Jack Benton’s father and uncle, which was the reason the word ‘Brothers’ was still a part of the circus’s name, even though Jack Benton himself had three sisters.

Heather walked to Samara.  The elephant’s eyes were so filled with sorrow Heather wanted to cry.  She laid her head against the elephant’s right ear, and ran a gentle hand over an open wound left in Samara’s side from Bhagi’s whip.

“Oh, Samara, I’m so sor—“

“Hey!  Hey, girl! You get ‘way from there now!  Go on!  Go on with you!”

Heather turned. A dark headed man wearing a white robe and loose fitting trousers beneath it stomped toward her. 

“But, Bhagi, Samara just needs a friend.  She’s sad and—“

“Don’t you be telling Bhagi what that animal needs.  Are you the elephant trainer around here, girl?”

“No, but--”

“But nothing.  Now go on! Get out of here!”

“But Samara’s sad.  She misses Sakari.  You’re the one who told me they’ve been together forever.  That they’ve been sisters for more than twenty-five years.”

“Never mind what I tell you,” Bhagi scolded in heavily accented English. “When you are the elephant trainer for Jack Benton, then you will make the decisions.  But for now, I am the trainer, and I know what is best for my animals.  Go on, now.  Go!”

“But--”

Samara roared a warning and pushed Heather out of the way with her trunk when Bhagi raised his whip. 

“Get out of here, girl!  Go!”

Heather stood frozen for a moment, wondering if Bhagi would really strike her with his whip.  Her hazel eyes were wide with fear as Bhagi advanced on her.  Samara’s trunk nudged Heather’s back, giving her a little shove in the opposite direction of the irate trainer.  The girl stumbled over her feet, then started running toward the trailer where school classes were held for the children of circus employees.

Tears ran down Heather’s face as she heard the whip’s  ‘thwack’ against Samara’s side.  The elephant bellowed in pain again and again, her skin far more sensitive than what most people realized. The other elephants began bellowing, too, as though they understood what was going on and were crying with Samara. Heather flew past the makeshift school, her tennis shoes churning up a cloud of dust as she headed for a grove of trees. The girl collapsed behind a thick oak.  She peered out, watching from a distance as Samara’s beating went on and on until Kristof appeared and pulled Bhagi away from the animal.  The men exchanged heated words, but somehow Kristof managed to convince Bhagi that enough was enough. 

Long after the men had disappeared from view, and long after the school day had started, Heather remained behind the tree.  She hid her head in her arms and sobbed for the beautiful animal that was being treated so cruelly, all because one man couldn’t come to terms with his own pain.

Chapter 2

 John Gage hurried to the front door that Wednesday evening. He was an hour late, and hoped they hadn’t delayed the party because of him.  He smiled when he saw the living room curtains part and a little head peek through the opening.  He heard the boy’s feet pounding against the floor, then the door was flung open.

“Uncle Johnny! Uncle Johnny!”

Johnny opened the storm door and scooped up the auburn haired boy with his right arm. The paramedic balanced John DeSoto on his hip, nudged the door closed with his foot, all the while keeping a grip on the K-mart bag he was holding with his left hand.

“Hey, Little Pally.”

“Ya’ know what, Uncle Johnny?”

“No, John. What?”

“It’s my birthday.”

Johnny’s eyes widened, as though the significance of this date, January 16th, was a surprise to him, and as though he wasn’t carrying a bagful of presents. 

“It is?”

“Yeah. And now that you’re here, it’s time for my party.”

 The boy pointed to the dining area beyond the living room. Pale blue streamers were anchored to the ceiling and twisted in spirals down to the center of the table. A bouquet of red, blue, green, and yellow balloons had been secured with string and hung upside down from the light fixture.  A blue banner was strung along the south wall that read, Happy Birthday, John, and the birthday boy’s chair was festooned with two helium-filled Mylar balloons. One was silver with the words Happy Birthday in red lettering, and the other was green and had a large yellow 6 in the center of it.

Johnny put his namesake down.  The boy tore through the house announcing, “Uncle Johnny’s here!  Uncle Johnny’s here!  It’s time to start my party!”

Roy poked his head around the corner of the kitchen.  “Hi, partner.”

Though John Gage and Roy DeSoto hadn’t been partners in two years now, they still referred to each other as such. The word had long ago lost its true meaning for both of them – a person associated with another in some common activity, job, or interest.  Instead, the word ‘partner’ when spoken by either man signified the friendship that had started in Squad 51 in January of 1972, and had only grown stronger in the thirteen years that had passed since that time.

“Hey, Pally,” Johnny said in return as he walked through the living room.  “Sorry I’m late.  I got hung up in a meeting with Brackett. I’ve got a kid who’ll make a great paramedic if he’d just lose his cocky attitude, keep his mouth shut, and learn to quit pissin’ Brackett off.”

Roy gave a sly smile.  “Gee, sounds like a young paramedic I used to know.”

Johnny arched a challenging eyebrow at his friend.  “Oh, really?  Who?”

Roy chuckled, but refrained from saying the obvious as Johnny entered the dining area. He walked to a corner by the patio doors where presents were stacked, knelt and took wrapped gifts from the bag he’d carried in.  Joanne looked over the snack bar.

“Johnny, you spoil him. John doesn’t need that many presents.  One would have been enough. Actually, you didn’t have to bring him anything.”

Johnny stood and handed Roy the bag through the opening between the snack bar’s counter top and the upper cabinets. 

“Here, you can throw this away if you want to.”  Johnny turned his attention to Joanne as she rounded the counter and kissed his cheek.  “Since when do I show up here without a present for someone’s birthday?”

“Never, but I don’t want you to feel obligated, either.”

“Joanne, you’ve been saying that to me for the last thirteen years.”

“And I’ll probably be saying it for the next thirteen.”

“You probably will,” Johnny agreed with a grin.

The woman took in the man she hadn’t seen since mid-December. Johnny had celebrated an early Christmas with the DeSotos, and had played ‘Uncle Johnny Santa Claus’ for John, before heading to Montana to spend the holidays with his father, sister, and grandfather.  Johnny had been the head of the fire department’s paramedic training program since March of 1983. Likewise, Roy had taken over as captain of Station 26 at that time. 

“You look good, Johnny.  How was Christmas with your family?”

“Fine. It was nice to get home for a few days.”

“The perks of being a paramedic instructor, and not a station captain,” Roy complained, while taking two bubbling casserole dishes of ravioli out of the oven.

“Well, Roy,” Johnny pilfered a slice of the garlic bread Joanne was cutting at the kitchen counter,  “I guess next time you’ll think twice and take the cushy job.”

Roy chuckled, knowing that Johnny’s job was hardly ‘cushy’ though in Johnny’s eyes maybe it was, when you compared it to the stress that came with being a station captain. 

John raced back into the room and scrambled onto his chair. He looked at the stack of presents that had grown higher since he’d left.

“Whoa! Now this is what I call a party.” 

That adults exchanged amused glances at Roy’s youngest child, who had long ago perfected the role of family clown. Joanne often said he was more like his Uncle Johnny than he was like either her or Roy, which Roy claimed must have come from naming John for John Gage.

“If I’d only known,” Roy would often bemoan when one of John’s antics got the little boy mired in more trouble than any child needed.

John wasn’t any more concerned with his exploits than his Uncle Johnny had ever been concerned with his own.  Right now, there were more important things on the kindergartner’s mind. 

“Is the party gonna start now, Mom?”

“In a minute.” Joanne looked down the hallway where the four bedrooms were located. She could hear music coming from Jennifer’s room, and the faint sound of a television program coming from Chris’s. “Where are your brother and sister?”

John shrugged. “I don’t know. I told ‘em Uncle Johnny was here.”  He reached for a slice of the garlic bread Joanne had placed in a basket on the table. 

“Not yet, John.  Wait until everyone is seated and we begin passing the food.”

“But Uncle Johnny’s eating a piece.”

Johnny turned away and swallowed. When he turned back to face the boy, he smiled and winked. “No, I’m not.”

John grinned and pointed a finger.  “You had a piece.”

“Did not.”’

“Did too!”

“Did not.”

“Did too!”

“Did--”

Joanne held up her hands. “Boys, that’s enough.  Behave yourselves.”

John laughed, then pointed at Johnny again. “You got in trouble from my mom, Uncle Johnny.”

Johnny placed a hand on top of John’s head as he sat down next to the boy. “It’s not the first time, Little Pally, and it probably won’t be the last.”

“No, it probably won’t be,” Joanne agreed with a smile. She looked down the hallway as, one by one, Roy set the casserole dishes on the hot pads Joanne had put on the table. “Chris! Jennifer!  Supper is ready!”

Joanne heard Billy Joel cease to play from Jennifer’s boom box.  The fifteen-year-old bounced into the room. She was dressed in faded Levi’s, a red sweatshirt that declared in white lettering, Property of the Carson High School Cheerleading Squad, and she had her blond hair pulled up in a ponytail. She kissed Johnny on the cheek as she breezed by his chair.

“Hi, Uncle Johnny!”

“Hey, Jenny Bean. You get prettier and prettier each time I see you.  Your old man is gonna have to lock you in your room in order to keep the boys away.”

Jennifer grimaced.  “He already does.”

“Oh, I do not,” Roy negated.

“You do, too.  You won’t let me go out with Brad Hall.”

“That’s because Brad Hall is nineteen and a sophomore in college.”

“So?”

“So,” Roy said as he sat down at the head of the table, “you’re fifteen and a sophomore in high school.”

“I’ll be sixteen in April.”

“Good for you.  But you’re still not going out with Brad Hall.”

“Dad!”

“Jennifer, not tonight.  Not on the night of your brother’s birthday party.”

Jennifer turned pleading eyes on the one man who had never been able to say no to her. “Uncle Johnny?”

“Oh, no,” Johnny shook his head.  “I’m not gettin’ in the middle of this one.”

“You’ve gotten smart in your old age, Junior.”

“Uncle Johnny, come on.  Please tell Dad it’s okay for me to date Brad Hall.”

“Nope.”

Gone was the young lady of only moments earlier, to be replaced by a little girl who crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. “Why not?”

“Because I agree with him. It’s not okay.  No college guy has any business dating my Jenny Bean.”

The girl rolled her eyes. “You’re as bad as my dad.”

Johnny laughed. “Maybe even worse, Jen, so don’t think I’m gonna give you permission to date some punk who’s only after one thing.”

“Brad’s not a punk. And how do you know he’s only after one thing?”

There was no way Johnny was going to tell Jennifer DeSoto how he knew what most young men of nineteen were after from a beautiful girl, anymore than he’d reveal that to a daughter of his own. 

“Because it’s like your dad said.  Your uncle Johnny has gotten smart in his old age.”

John looked up at the paramedic. “What thing is Brad after, Uncle Johnny? ‘Cause if it’s my presents, I don’t want him hangin’ around here, that’s for sure.”

Jennifer scowled at her brother while the grownups laughed.

“He’s not after your presents,” Jennifer said. She looked at Roy and Johnny. “He’s not after anything. Brad’s not that kind of guy.”

“I don’t care what kind of guy he is, or what he may or may not be after,” Roy said. “We’ve had this discussion before. You’re not dating a college sophomore.” 

Roy turned so he was facing the wall the hallway intersected. “Christopher! Get a move on!  Supper is ready!”

     Like his daughter, the captain scowled as he swiveled in his seat to face the table again. “You’d think a nineteen-year- old could pull himself away from the T.V. long enough to attend his little brother’s birthday party.”

Johnny could tell that Jennifer’s mention of Brad Hall was wearing on Roy’s nerves, and could easily guess this had been an on-going debate in the DeSoto house during recent weeks. Whether something else was going on too, or whether Roy was simply hungry, tired, and ready to get the birthday party underway for a six-year-old who could barely contain his excitement, Johnny didn’t know.  He caught an undercurrent in Roy’s tone that told him the man was upset about something that went beyond Brad Hall and hunger, but Johnny knew Roy’s job was often stressful, and he also knew it wasn’t easy raising a family when your kids ranged in age from six to nineteen. Though Roy and Joanne considered John to be an enormous blessing they wouldn’t have wanted to miss out on, Johnny surmised that there were times when Roy thought his years of having children underfoot would be just about over if it wasn’t for the unexpected third child who had arrived six years ago today.

Roy started to yell again, “Chris--” when the young man sauntered into the room.  Chris raised a hand as he passed Johnny’s chair. The two exchanged a cross between a high-five and a handshake while briefly gripping each other’s palms.

“Hey, Christopher. How’s it goin’?”

“Okay, Uncle Johnny. How about with you?  How’s the training going?”

“Great.” Johnny’s eyes twinkled as they slid to Roy. “With the exception of one young smart aleck who resembles no one I’m familiar with, I’ve got a good group of kids.”

Chris walked by his brother, rounded the table where his father was sitting at the end by the patio doors, and took his seat next to Jennifer. Roy listened as Chris asked Johnny a smattering of questions about the paramedic-training program, while Joanne started passing food around the table. Roy wished he had the easy camaraderie with his nineteen-year-old that John Gage did.  Not that he begrudged Johnny the man’s friendship with Chris, but lately Chris was growing more and more difficult for Roy to understand. The captain had thought the struggles of the teen years where Chris was concerned were behind him.  Chris had been an easy kid to raise, and had rarely caused Joanne and Roy problems.  Jennifer was the more assertive and explosive personality amongst Roy’s teenagers. Roy knew that by the time she was eighteen, he would have earned, through sleepless nights and multiple arguments over curfew, privileges, household chores, and Brad Hall, every gray hair that was beginning to creep onto his head.  But Chris – well, just when Roy had expected his relationship with his oldest son to become more equal, more man to man than father to son, Roy felt they were drifting apart.

Roy’s mind wandered from the chatter going on around the dinner table as he accepted the potholders and casserole dish Johnny passed him.  Without giving it conscious thought, Roy ladled ravioli onto John’s plate, then onto his own plate, before passing the dish to Chris. Other foods were passed that Roy barely noticed, though when he looked down he saw that he’d once again dished servings up for John and himself. 

The fire captain tried to shake off his mood.  There was something that troubled him about the way Chris questioned Johnny about the paramedic-training program.  There was a light in Chris’s eyes, and an excitement to his voice, that was absent when Roy talked to the young man about the freshman classes he was taking at U.S.C. 

When it had come time to send off college applications the previous year, Chris had been hesitant to do so, and Roy couldn’t understand why.  Chris was an excellent student, and at semester break had been slated to graduate amongst the top ten students in his class.  Roy and Joanne had been so proud of him. Five hundred kids made up Chris’s senior class at Carson High School, so to be ranked that high academically was quite an achievement.  An achievement Chris didn’t seem to care about, nor seemed willing to capitalize on. Chris’s indifferent attitude toward college had prompted Roy to remind the teen several times that an opportunity awaited him that Roy had never had, and to remind Chris he was expected to take that opportunity and make a success of himself. 

“But, Dad--” was the way those conversations during Chris’s senior year in high school always began.  

“There are no buts about this, Chris,” Roy had said quietly, yet firmly, time and time again.  “Please start to give the decision of where you’ll attend college top priority, so your mother and I will know how to plan the family budget for next year.”

“But I don’t want you and Mom to have to struggle because of me. I can work for a couple of years and then--”

“You’ll have to continue to work part time while you attend school.”

“I know, but that’s not what I meant. I meant that I could go to college later.  A few years from now, after I’ve saved some money, I can--”

“No,” Roy could still remember himself saying. “If you don’t go right of out high school...if you work a few years first, then you’ll never go.”

“How do you know?”

“Just because I do.  Because before you know it, marriage will come along, and a family, and that means a mortgage payment, and car payments, and braces, and too many bills for me to list right now. Chris, you’re young. Now is the time to complete your education, before you have obligations to a wife and children.”

“But, Dad, I was thinking that if I joined the fire department and went into the paramedic program--”

Whatever Chris was going to say after that, and Roy knew exactly what it was, Roy put a stop to it by holding up a hand.

“No. Not right now.  If, after you’ve graduated from college, you choose to join the fire department, I’ll support that choice.  But I want you to get a degree first, Chris.  I’ve seen too many guys get burned out by the time they’re thirty from the stress of being a paramedic.  I’ve seen too many guys injured on the job, and not able to return to the department as a result of the injury.  Because of things like that, I know how important it is for you to have a college degree to fall back on.”

“But you don’t have a college degree.”

“No, I don’t. And I’m in the exact category I was talking about a few minutes ago.”

“What category?”

“I couldn’t go to school and earn a degree now, even if I wanted to.  Not if your mother is going to stay out of the work force until John is in high school, which is what she and I want.  Between our household bills, and your college tuition, and the fact that your mom is going to need a new car within a year, and future education expenses for Jennifer and John, I can’t afford to attend college, even on a limited basis.  So see, this is why I’m telling you to take college seriously now, son, when you have the chance to enjoy it and devote yourself to it.”

“But you and Mom shouldn’t have to struggle because of me - because of my college expenses. I can work for a few years, save all the money I can, and then pay for my schooling myself.”

“No. I’ve always planned to put all of my kids through college.  Don’t worry, Chris.  Your mom and I can do this.  We want to do it.  So what if we have to tighten our belts a bit?  We’ve done it before, and I imagine by the time John finally graduates from college, we will have done it again more than once.”

Roy had patted his son on the back that night, gestured to the college catalogs on the teen’s nightstand with a wave of his hand that silently told Chris to start looking through them, then left the room.  Roy looked back at it now and knew he hadn’t left the room, as much as he’d fled the room - so he wouldn’t have to hear Chris tell him that he wanted to be a paramedic.  With Johnny’s help, Chris had tried to broach that subject with Roy during the fall of Chris’s senior year, but Roy had let both of them know that notion wasn’t going to be entertained.

 If, after Chris earns his degree, he decides to join the fire department...well, I’ll accept that choice, Roy thought as he watched his family and John Gage eat. He’ll be twenty-two by then and more aware of what he wants to do with his life.  But he should take some pre-med courses at school and see if anything related to the paramedic field is what he’s really interested in. If he’d just keep an open mind about school, he’d discover some career that he wants to pursue and from there, declare a major, instead of barely passing classes he’s capable of earning A’s in.  If he’d pick a major, then joining the fire department wouldn’t be so appealing. I don’t want him to have to struggle financially like I did when he and Jennifer were small.  Like I still have to do at times now that we have one in college, one in high school, and one in kindergarten. 

Nothing more had been said between Chris and his father about college attendance versus joining the fire department.  Three days after Roy’s conversation with his son, Chris announced he’d attend U.S.C. It was Chris who suggested he live at home and commute to school for at least the first year. After that, he said he might get an apartment with some friends, or choose to get a dorm room, but as of now he didn’t seem to be in any hurry to move out. Roy had been concerned Chris had made this choice because of the DeSotos’ budget, but Chris had given Roy a smile that made him seem far older than he was and said, “Don’t worry about it, Dad.  It’s not that important.”

Now Roy wondered if what Chris had really meant that day almost a year ago, was that college wasn’t that important to him, so everything else that went along with it wasn’t important either.

Johnny subtly eyed Roy while conversation continued to buzz around them. Chris had dropped the subject of the paramedic program when Johnny gave him a tight shake of his head that conveyed the message, “Not in front of your dad, Chris.”

Joanne, Chris, and Jennifer were now talking about an upcoming carnival at Jennifer’s school that the cheerleaders were sponsoring, while John jabbered to Johnny about how this was his third birthday party.

“First, I had one that my friends came to. Then I had one with Grandma DeSoto, Grandpa and Grandma Stellman, and Aunt Eileen, and now I’m having this one that you’re at, Uncle Johnny. I’m a pretty lucky kid, aren’t I?”

“You sure are,” Johnny answered, while taking note of Roy’s pensive mood and knowing his assumption was correct when he surmised that Roy didn’t approve of Chris’s interest in the paramedic program.  “You’re one lucky little squirt.”

“I’m not a lucky little squirt. I’m a lucky Little Pally.”

Johnny smiled at the boy. Like a typical six-year-old, John was doing his best to cram his favorite foods – ravioli and garlic bread – into his mouth at the same time. His lips were rimmed red from the sauce, but Johnny had learned from experience that there was no use in telling the boy to wipe his face until after John was through eating. 

No wonder Roy’s tired and not in the mood to argue with Jennifer over Bill...or Bob...or Brian...or whatever his name was. Three birthday parties is a little over the top.  Joanne didn’t have to do this.

With that last thought, Johnny was acknowledging the fact that he hadn’t been able to attend the family birthday party that had been held for John the previous Sunday afternoon, because he had pulled a twenty-four shift at Station 44 with two student paramedics. He could have just as easily dropped the gifts off for John without there being dinner and another party involved. However, Johnny knew this was Joanne’s way of getting a home cooked meal into him, while also allowing he and Roy to spend time together.  Though they still saw one another on occasion through the course of their jobs, ‘on occasion’ was far different, and less frequent, than when they’d worked together out of Station 51.  That had been the one drawback to the choices they’d both made two years ago.

Roy had loved being a paramedic, but for financial reasons, had to consider advancement opportunities, which was what prompted him to take the captain’s exam.  As for Johnny, he might have taken the captain’s exam too, if it hadn’t been for the opportunity Kelly Brackett had given him to head the paramedic training program. With Roy no longer Johnny’s partner, there was nothing to keep the man at Station 51. The A-shift had been a special team, but all good things must come to an end, as the saying went. Mike Stoker had taken the captain’s exam at the same time Roy had, and was now captain of Station 88’s B-shift. Hank Stanley had advanced to battalion chief nine months earlier, which left only Marco and Chet at Station 51. Though Johnny missed the crew he had worked with for so long, he had no regrets about his new position as chief paramedic instructor, any more than he imagined Roy had regrets over his position. They had both deserved the new responsibilities, and the increase in pay that came with them.

Food was passed around the table again for second helpings.  By the time everyone was finished, John was bouncing in his chair with anticipation of what was to come.  As Roy stood and crossed to the snack bar where a chocolate cake sat, John warned, “Make sure there’s six candles on that cake, Daddy.  And don’t start anything on fire when you light ‘em, ‘cause if you do, the firemen will make fun of you when they have to come to our house and spray it with water.”

John’s words chased away Roy’s blue mood.  He laughed and assured, “I think your old daddy can handle lighting a few candles, John.”

“Well, if you do start a fire, I guess Uncle Johnny can probably put it out.”

Johnny winked at the boy.  “Your dad and Uncle Johnny will put out the fire together, just like we used to.”

“Back when you guys were young, you mean?”

Joanne choked on the ice water she was sipping. She couldn’t help but laugh at Johnny and Roy’s expressions – a cross between indignation and surprise, as though neither of them could fathom that anyone thought they were too old to put out fires.

“I’ll give ya’ this much, Little Pally,” Johnny said. “Given that bald spot on the back of your dad’s head that keeps getting bigger, he’s on the high side of bein’ old.  But your uncle Johnny,” Johnny splayed a hand a cross his chest just like Joanne could have predicted, “your uncle Johnny’s not much more than a kid.”

“You’ll be forty next year,” Jennifer reminded. 

Even though John Gage’s fortieth birthday was a year and a half away, the DeSotos had already been discussing the surprise party they would host for him. On this night in January of 1985, no one could imagine that by the time Johnny turned forty in August of 1986, he would no longer be living in Los Angeles, Chris would be in a wheelchair, and the friendship that had started so many years earlier in Squad 51, would be shattered into pieces Johnny didn’t know how to put back together, and Roy had no desire to.

 In response to Jennifer’s words, Johnny said, “Forty’s not that old, Jenny Bean.”

Roy arched an eyebrow as he set John’s cake in the middle of the table.  “You sure thought it was when I turned forty.”

“On you, forty’s old.  On me, it’ll be just right.”

“Because I was subjected to your twisted logic far too often when we were partners, I’m not even gonna ask what that’s supposed to mean.”

“Oh yeah? Well, you should, ‘cause ya’ see, Roy, it’s like this. When it comes to bein’ forty, you--”

Though Jennifer and Chris were following the banter in anticipation of what was going to come next, young John didn’t have the interest, or the patience, for the playful bickering his father and his uncle Johnny so often engaged in.  He eyed the cake with its flaming candles and said, “Hey, isn’t anyone gonna sing happy birthday to me so we can eat that cake and I can open my presents?”

This was one time Joanne didn’t admonish her youngest for interrupting an adult.  Knowing Johnny, he was just getting warmed up.  As far as she was concerned, the men could continue the debate over old age in the living room after the party was finished. 

“Yes, John, we’re going to sing happy birthday right now.”

Whatever Johnny was going to say was forgotten as Joanne started singing ‘Happy Birthday’ and everyone else joined in.  When the birthday boy had blown out the candles, Joanne sliced the cake and served it.  John ate just two mouthfuls before he was begging to open his presents.  Because it was getting late and he had school the next day, Joanne allowed the boy to hop off his chair and carry his presents to the table. Roy pushed John’s dishes aside so there was room for the six-year-old to pile everything.  He hadn’t opened any gifts from his parents or siblings yet, so between those packages, and the packages Johnny had carried in, it looked more like a Christmas celebration as opposed to a birthday celebration as far as Roy was concerned.  He watched as his son chose a gift and started unwrapping it.

When it comes to presents and parties, John’s been spoiled in a way Chris and Jennifer never were. We couldn’t afford more than a couple of presents for either of them when they were his age, let alone hosting three parties. When Chris turned six we had to limit his guest list to just two boys, because we couldn’t afford party favors and food for more than that.

The captain didn’t begrudge his youngest the privilege of having been born at a time when Roy’s salary was higher, but he often worried they were spoiling John in ways they shouldn’t.  He smiled slightly when John began to unwrap the mountain of gifts Johnny had brought.

Guess we don’t spoil him nearly as much as Johnny does. 

Roy and Joanne dutifully exclaimed over the four G.I. Joe action figures John held up that had been gifts from Johnny, followed by a G.I. Joe vehicle.

“Wow! It’s the Cobra Water Moccasin!” The boy’s eyes lit up when he looked at Johnny. “It’s just what I wanted, Uncle Johnny!  I asked Santa Claus for it, but he didn’t bring it.  How did you know that?”

“Oh, your Uncle Johnny’s a psychic.”

“What’s that mean?”

“It means he’s nuts,” Roy answered.

“I said psychic, Roy.”

“Oh, sorry about that.  I thought you said you were a psych-o.”

Jennifer and Chris laughed again, while John went on ignoring the men. His next gifts from Johnny were two transformers, followed by a children’s puzzle of a fire engine.  He finally came to a plain white envelope that had his name on it.  The boy opened it, expecting to find a birthday card inside.  Instead, he pulled out two manila tickets that had pictures of clowns on them.  He scrunched his nose as he studied the tickets, then held them up.

“What are these, Uncle Johnny?”

“Tickets to the Benton Brothers Circus.”

“A circus?” John’s hazel eyes grew wide with excitement.  Really?”

“Really.”

“I’ve never been to a circus before.”

“Then I guess you and I will have to use those tickets on Saturday and go. And if it’s okay with your folks, I can pick you up after school on Friday, and you can spend the night with me on the ranch.”

John’s head swiveled from Joanne to Roy, then back again.

“Can I?  Can I stay at Uncle Johnny’s and then go to the circus?”

Roy stroked his chin, while pretending to mull his son’s request over.  Johnny had already arranged this outing with Roy and Joanne prior to buying the tickets, though Roy didn’t tell John that.

“Well...let me see.  Are you going to behave yourself?”

“Yes!”

“Are you going to do exactly what Uncle Johnny tells you to?”

“Yes!”

“Are you going to clean your room before you go?”

“Yes!”

“And cook my supper?”

“Yes!”

“And bring me my newspaper and slippers?”

“Yes!”

“And clean the bathroom?”

“Daddy!”

“Well, are you?”

“Daddy, quit teasing.”

Roy chuckled. “All right, no more teasing.  But I was serious about my first two questions.  Can you behave yourself and obey Uncle Johnny?”

“Yep.  I’ll be the best boy you ever saw.”

“Glad to hear it.  I hope the ‘best boy I ever saw’ comes back home with Uncle Johnny, too.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind,” Roy dismissed, knowing the humor had gone over John’s head.  “Yes, you can spend the night with Uncle Johnny and go to the circus.”

“Yea!”  John looked up at Johnny. “Did you hear that? I get to have a sleepover at your house and then go to the circus.”

“Sounds like a good time to me.”

“Oh, it’ll be a good time all right,” John assured as he turned his attention to the gifts Chris and Jennifer had given him that he had yet to open.  “I’m a pretty fun guy, you know.”

Johnny laughed at Roy’s youngest. “So I’ve heard.”

Fifteen minutes later, the table was piled with dirty dishes and discarded wrapping paper. Joanne made certain John thanked everyone for his gifts, then stood.

     “Chris, would you please help John carry his presents to his room.”

     “But I wanna play with ‘em!”

     “You can, but in your room.  And only until I get the kitchen cleaned up. When I’m through, it’s off to bed for you, young man.”

     “But, Mom, I haven’t even gotten to play with anything yet.”

     “You can play with your new toys after school tomorrow.”

     “But I wanna play with ‘em now.”

     Roy gave his son a stern look.  “John, do as your mother says. You’ve had plenty of fun for one night. It’s past your bed time as it is.”

Roy looked at Jennifer next, who was still seated at the table.  “Please help your mother clear the table and clean up the kitchen.”

“But I’ve got homework to do.”

“You should have been doing that before the party started, instead of talking to Amy on the phone.”

“I’ll help Mom, if you’ll let me ask Brad Hall to the Valentine’s Day dance.”

“Jennifer--”

“Dad, come on. You’re not being fair.”

“As long as you live in my house, I don’t have to be fair.  Now help your mother.”

“But Chris doesn’t have to.”

Roy gave his oldest son a pointed look as the young man stood to help John gather his gifts.  “Chris is going to be studying.”

Jennifer whined, “But I need to study, too.”

Roy took a long, slow deep breath, which indicated to Johnny the man was about to lose his temper.  Jennifer must have realized it as well, because she jumped to her feet and picked up a stack of plates.

     “Never mind.  I’ll help Mom.”

     “Thank you,” Roy said as he stood as well.  He looked at Johnny and indicated to the living room. “Let’s go in there.”

     Johnny thanked Joanne for the meal, then followed Roy into the living room.  He sat in a recliner that was positioned on the right side of the fireplace hearth, while Roy sat in its twin on the left side of the hearth. Both men reached for the wooden handles attached to the sides of the chairs.  They pulled back on them, brought the footrests up, and then splayed their feet out in front of them.

     Roy leaned his head back against the chair and closed his eyes for a moment. Johnny smiled while listening to the hubbub coming from the kitchen and dining room. He could hear Jennifer walking back and forth between the two areas, all the while bemoaning the fact that her father wouldn’t let her date Brad Hall.  John chattered to Chris about his new toys as the two made multiple trips between the table and John’s bedroom.  It wasn’t until things quieted down – until John was in his room playing, and Chris was in his room studying, and Jennifer and Joanne were in the kitchen with the dishwasher cycling, meaning its sound drowned out any complaints Jennifer might be making, that Roy opened his eyes. He looked over at Johnny.

     “If, in the future, you ever think about having kids, remember this night before you do.”

     Johnny laughed. He knew that Roy wouldn’t trade his children for all the money in the world, but he also knew Roy was acknowledging that it wasn’t always easy being a father.

     “I don’t think I’m gonna have to be concerned with kids of my own.”

     Because Roy and Johnny no longer worked together each day, Roy wasn’t always up to speed on who was the latest woman in John Gage’s life. 

     “So, you’re not seeing Shelly any more?”

     “Nope. Haven’t seen her in three months. Haven’t seen Barbara, Janice, or Sue in a while either.”

     “They all came after Shelly?”

     “Yep.”

     “Oh.  Well, if nothing else, you can still reel ‘em in as fast as you did in your younger days.”

     “That’s true.  But can’t seem to hold onto ‘em any better than I did back then.”

     “You will when the right one comes along.”

     Johnny shrugged, leaving Roy uncertain if having a wife and children made little difference to him, or if he’d simply given up hope of ever finding another woman he’d like to marry and start a family with.

     Maybe he really can’t put the tragedy of Kim and Jessie behind him, no matter how hard he acts like just the opposite is true.

     John Gage was an anomaly if there ever was one, as far as Roy was concerned.  The two men had been best friends for six years before Roy knew Johnny had married shortly after he’d graduated from high school.  Johnny’s wife and fourteen-month-old daughter had been murdered by a jealous ex-boyfriend of Kim’s.  Johnny had been severely injured while trying to ward off the attacker.  Roy had known nothing about any of this – that Johnny had been married, that he’d been a father, that his wife and child had been killed – until events took place in April of 1978 that had Johnny risking his life in an effort to keep Jennifer from the clutches of a man bent on violence.  Those events forced John Gage to travel full circle, and face what he’d left behind in Montana – a dead wife and child he’d never fully mourned. 

     After Johnny had returned from Montana that summer of 1978, Roy thought the man would finally be ready to make a commitment to another woman.  A woman who wasn’t Kim.  He expected to see Johnny fall head over heels in love with some woman – a woman who wouldn’t be in Johnny’s life for just two days, or two weeks, or two months, before Johnny found a reason why the relationship wouldn’t work and broke it off.  Or, until he did something to annoy the woman so she was the one forced to break up with him.  Roy had long ago figured out that Johnny, more often than not, gave whatever woman he was seeing a reason to break up with him, simply because Johnny didn’t want to hurt her feelings by initiating the termination of the relationship.   Roy often wondered if Johnny feared he’d lose another wife and child to a tragedy like he’d lost Kim and Jessie, and if that was why the man wouldn’t allow himself to carry a relationship far enough that it led to marriage.

     He always talks a good talk.  There’s always some woman he’s seeing, some woman he has available to bring to any event where a person feels more comfortable being a part of a couple – the firemen’s ball, Rampart’s Christmas party, Chet’s wedding last year...but despite what Johnny says and how down he acts after the break up, he never seems to really care that it didn’t work out.

     Roy shook off his thoughts.  There was little point in letting Johnny’s single status bother him, if it didn’t bother Johnny.  Despite the quirkiness that would always be a part of John Gage, Roy knew his friend would make a terrific father, but he supposed Johnny was correct.  The man would be thirty-nine in August and had been single for many years now.  Like Johnny, Roy doubted if his former partner would ever have to be concerned with putting a son through college, or arguing with a fifteen-year-old over dating privileges, or hosting three birthday parties for a lively six-year-old.

     Thinking of his lively six-year-old prompted Roy to say, “Thanks for letting John stay at your place on Friday, and then taking him to the circus on Saturday.”

     “You’re welcome. Glad to do it. I haven’t spent as much time with him as I did with Chris and Jen.”

     Roy nodded. Between Johnny’s small ranch, his horses, his job as paramedic trainer, and the fact that he still worked as an active duty paramedic when classes weren’t in session, he was busy. And unlike when Chris and Jennifer were small and Roy would occasionally ask Johnny to baby-sit so he could take Joanne out for the evening, there had been little need to request that service of Johnny for John.  The age differences between the two older DeSoto children and their younger brother meant the occasional baby-sitting duty fell to Chris or Jennifer.

     “Joanne will let the school know you’re picking him up. Kindergarten gets out at noon.”

     “I’ll be there.”

     “Thanks. Chris has classes until two on Friday afternoon, then has to work and won’t be home until ten. Maybe later if he and Wendy go out for dinner after he gets done. Jennifer has to cheer for a basketball game after school, and then is spending the night at Amy’s, so Jo and I are looking forward to a nice, long day together in a quiet house.”

     Johnny waggled his eyebrows at his friend. “Just be careful, Pally.  Remember what happened the last time you and Joanne had a nice, long day together in a quiet house thanks to me.”

     Roy blushed a little and smiled.  Johnny was referring to the weekend he’d taken Chris and Jennifer camping in April of 1978, which had also been the weekend John was conceived. 

     “Yeah, thanks to you I had to host three birthday parties for a six-year-old this year.”

     “Ah, you didn’t mind all that much.”

     “No, I didn’t,” Roy admitted. “I don’t always have the energy...or maybe the word is desire, to keep up with John like I did with Chris and Jen, but he doesn’t seem to know the difference, so old Daddy here hasn’t confessed to that.”

     “I don’t think you need to worry about it. I’d say John is pretty crazy about his daddy, old or not.”

     “He is,” Roy agreed. “But it’s easy to be the guy your six-year-old looks up to.  It’s not so easy to be the guy your nineteen-year-old looks up to.”

Johnny caught sight of Jennifer and Joanne passing between the living and dining rooms on their way to the bedrooms.  He waited until they were out of hearing range to ask, “Whatta ya’ mean by that?”

     “Oh...I don’t know. Maybe nothing.  Maybe everything.  It’s...” Roy hiked himself up in his chair so he wasn’t leaning back any longer. “Chris isn’t taking college seriously. His first semester grades arrived right after Christmas.  He’s barely passing his classes.”

     “Oh. Oh...that’s too bad.”

     “That’s too bad? I just told you a kid that graduated from high school with a three point nine grade average is barely making it through college, and all you can say is, that’s too bad?”

     “Well, whatta ya’ want me to say?” Johnny asked, while trying not to act like he was already aware of this news.  “It is too bad.  I wish Chris was doing better, but there’s not much more I can say about it than I already did.  He’s nineteen, Roy.  He’s an adult.  If Chris doesn’t keep his grades up and is kicked out of school...well, he knows the opportunities he’ll be missing.”

     “I know, I know. I’m sorry. I guess...”

     “You guess what?”

     Roy shot his friend a smile.  “When we worked together you always had an answer for all my problems, even when I didn’t ask for your advice. Now that I need your advice, I wish you did have an answer.”

     “I wish I had an answer for you too, but I don’t.”

     “It just gets to me, ya’ know?  I want Chris to earn that college degree.  School has always come so easy for him.  He’s always liked school. I thought he’d be excited to go to college, and I thought he’d do well once he got there. He always got excellent grades in all of his math classes. I thought he might decide to teach high school algebra or geometry, or go into economics, which would open up a lot of doors for him. Or maybe get degrees in business and finance. Those are other good fields, you know. A lot of possibilities are available with a degree in business, or finance, or both.”

     Johnny wanted to ask Roy if he’d memorized Chris’s college catalogs, since he sounded like he was reciting from one of them, but he knew Roy wasn’t in the mood for dry humor – or flippant comments. 

     “Uh huh,” is what Johnny said instead, as Roy droned on about all the jobs Chris could get if he got degrees in business and finance. 

     Geez, Roy, don’t you hear how boring all that stuff sounds?  Or at least boring to a kid like Chris, who has always hung on your every word whenever you’ve told him stories about stuff that happened at work.

     Johnny focused back on his friend as Roy said, “I just don’t understand it.  I’d have killed for the opportunity to go to college when I was his age. I would have--”     

     Roy turned his head and looked up when he heard someone enter the room. 

     “Why aren’t you studying?”

     “I was...I am,” Chris said. “I’m just taking a break for a few minutes.”

     “You’ve taken enough breaks tonight, don’t you think?”

     “Dad...” Chris said, while turning pleading eyes on Johnny.

     The paramedic instructor shook his head.  Whatever passed between Johnny and Chris was understood, and over with, by the time Roy glanced at Johnny.

     “I just thought I’d say good night to Uncle Johnny before I got a soda and then went back to my...studying.” 

     Johnny stood as Chris approached him. They shook hands, and Johnny patted the younger man on the upper arm.

     “See ya’ later, Sport.”

     “Yeah, see ya’ later.”

     Chris started to say something else, then thought better of it. He turned and headed for the kitchen as Johnny sat back down.

     After Chris left, Johnny shifted the conversation to the fire department and work-related issues.  Ten minutes later, John was sent into the living room to say goodnight to his father and his uncle Johnny.  The boy climbed in Roy’s lap. He gave Roy a hug and a kiss, and then bounded to Johnny’s chair.  The paramedic roughhoused with the child until Joanne came to retrieve John for bed.  Johnny decided that was his cue to go home. He knew Roy was tired, and he imagined Joanne was as well.  It was time to let the DeSoto household wind down for the night. 

     Johnny poked his head into the open doorway of Jennifer’s room.  The teenager was sitting cross-legged on her bed doing homework.

     “Night, Jen.”

     The girl looked up and gave Johnny a wave. “Good night, Uncle Johnny.”

     Johnny called a final goodbye to Chris, who was in his room, and said, “Good night, John!” to the boy Joanne had just put to bed. Johnny kissed Joanne’s cheek as she came out of John’s room and shut the door behind her.

     “Thanks again for supper, Jo.”

     “You’re welcome. And thank you for John’s gifts, and the trip to the circus.  Roy and I plan to enjoy our quiet day.”

     Johnny grinned and winked. “So I’ve been told.”

     Joanne gave the paramedic’s chest a playful whack. “I never said we were doing that.  All I said was that we’re going to enjoy a quiet day.”

     “You do whatever you want to.  I promise I won’t ask any questions.”

     “Good, because I won’t give you any answers. Now, what time will you bring John back on Saturday?”

     “Around six-thirty.  The afternoon performance starts at two.  I figure it will be over between three-thirty and four. Then we’ll stop somewhere for pizza before I bring him home. Is that okay?”

     “That’s fine.  Roy has to work on Saturday, and so does Chris.  Jennifer had a babysitting job from three in the afternoon until midnight, but I’ll be here.”

     “All right.”

     “Come with me to the kitchen before you go.  I have some leftovers for you to take home.”

     Johnny didn’t protest that offer.  He’d learned long ago that it did him no good, and besides, Joanne was an outstanding cook.  Johnny wasn’t about to turn down the ravioli, garlic bread, and chocolate cake Jo was sending home with him.

     Roy stood as Johnny entered the living room carrying a paper grocery bag filled with Tupperware containers.  The captain walked his friend to front door.

     “Thanks again for John’s presents.”

     “You’re welcome again for John’s presents.”

     Roy opened the door and stood back so Johnny could pass in front of him.  “Have fun at the circus.”

     “We will.”

     “Don’t bring John home with a stomachache from eating too many hotdogs. Don’t let him talk you into buying him any useless trinkets. Don’t let him drink soda to the point that he’s so wound up Joanne can’t get him to bed, and don’t let him anywhere near the trapeze.  With the way that boy likes to climb, God knows what he’ll do if he spots a rope and you turn your back on him.”

     “Gee, Roy, you sure know how to ruin a kid’s fun.”

     “And yours too, I suppose.”

     “Well, I was planning on John and me havin’ a hotdog eating contest, but now that you’ve put the kibosh on that, I guess we’ll have to go for the cotton candy instead.”

     “And don’t let him eat too much of that, either.”

     Johnny laughed. “Roy, you take life too seriously, ya’ know that?”

     “And you don’t take it seriously enough,” Roy tossed back the running debate the two men had engaged in numerous times since they’d met each other.  

     “Don’t worry. I got it.  Don’t fill the kid up with hotdogs or soda, don’t buy him junky toys, and keep him away from ropes. Does that about cover it?”

     “That about covers it.”

     “Okay. I’m headin’ home then. ‘Night.”

     “Good night.”

Roy flicked on the porch light.  He watched while Johnny unlocked the Land Rover and placed the bag of food in the passenger seat.  When Roy heard the vehicle start, he shut and locked the front door.

      Roy’s house was finally quiet.  John was asleep, Chris and Jennifer were studying, and since Roy couldn’t hear Joanne moving around in the kitchen or laundry room, he assumed she was in their bedroom reading or watching T.V.

     Roy sat on the couch and picked the remote control up off the end table. He aimed it at the television set, making sure to keep the volume low. He flipped channels until he found a program he liked, but paid little attention to it.  Roy’s mind wandered to his oldest son. The concerns he harbored for Chris’s future had made concentrating on anything in recent weeks difficult at best.

     Chris is too smart to throw away such a good opportunity, Roy attempted to assure himself as images flicked across the television screen.  He knows how much overtime I work so we can live comfortably, and so I can put him, and Jennifer, and John through college. He’s too smart to want his future to hold the same thing – scrambling for hours so your paycheck will be bigger, while at the same time being away from home, being away from your wife and kids, more than you want to be.

     Roy hoped his thoughts where his oldest son was concerned were correct. Thirty minutes later, Roy smiled with satisfaction when he passed Chris’s room and saw the young man’s head bent over a book.

     Roy stopped in the doorway.  “Good night, son.”

     Chris was seated at his desk with his back to his father.  He turned in his chair, making sure his body blocked his desktop.

     “‘Night, Dad.”

     “I see you’re still hitting the books.”

     Chris offered Roy a half smile.  “Yeah...yeah. I’ll be shutting the light out in a little while.  I’ve got an early class tomorrow.”

     “All right. Do you want me to close the door?”

     “Yeah, please.”

     Roy did as his son requested.  His last look at Chris was of the young man bent over his book again, intently reading something that seemed to have captured his interest.

     Thank God. Maybe he’s got some classes this semester that finally mean something to him - classes that will really make a difference in his life.

     Unbeknownst to Roy, his oldest son had found something that interested him, and that Chris hoped would make a difference in his life.  For the book he was studying didn’t come from the college bookstore, but instead, Chris had gotten it from John Gage when he’d stopped by the man’s small, cramped office at fire department headquarters a week ago.  

     Emergency Care of the Sick and Injured wasn’t going to take Chris anywhere until he began paramedic training, but as far as the nineteen-year-old was concerned, it was a start.  And a heck of a lot more interesting than anything he was currently learning at the University of Southern California.

     Chris finished the chapter he was reading, shut the book, and slipped it into his backpack.  He crossed to his bed, flopping down on the mattress.  He laced his fingers behind his head, and heaved a deep sigh while staring at the ceiling. Not for the first time in recent weeks, Chris wondered how he’d tell his father that he was dropping out of college. 

     And, not for the first time in recent weeks, Chris wondered how he’d tell his father that he was joining the fire department.

 Chapter 3

     On the same Wednesday evening that Johnny Gage attended John DeSoto’s birthday party, Heather Langford was hunched over the kitchen table in her family’s Airstream trailer.  Her schoolbooks and papers were spread across one half of the small table, while her brother Jay’s were spread across the other half. Everything in the small, silver trailer was designed for efficiency and maximum use of space. Later in the evening, the table would be folded against the wall, and the couch would be pulled out into the walkway and used as Jay’s bed.  For now, Heather sat on the couch, with Jay seated in a chair across from her.  She glowered and looked up when a foot nudged her shin.

     “Cut it out!”

Jay’s eyes lifted from the words he was memorizing for the next day’s spelling test. “I didn’t do anything!”

     “You kicked me!”

     “Did not!”

     “You did, too!”

     “Not on purpose. It was an accident.”

     “Was not!”

     “Was too!”

     “Was--”

     Heather’s father looked over from the trailer’s living area, where he was watching television with his wife.  

     “Knock it off, munchkins, and get back to that homework.”

     “But, Dad, Jay kicked me.”

     The boy looked at his father. “Not on purpose. Honest.”

     “You did too do it on purpose.”

     “I did not!”

     “Did too!”

     “Did--”

     “That’s enough.” The man pointed at the schoolbooks. “Get back to work now.”

     “But, Dad, Jay--”

     “I know, I know. Jay kicked you so hard your leg’s gonna  fall off, which means you’ll have a hard time getting around, but I’ll be able to put you in a side-show act and bill you as ‘Gimpy the Amazing.’”

     “Daaaad!”

     “Daaaad!” Pat Langford whined in imitation. “Heather, you’ve been doin’ nothing but growling like Kristof’s lions ever since you came home from school. Maybe I should put you in a cage with one of them.”

     Heather turned away and rolled her eyes.  She loved her father as much as any daughter could, but now that she was making the transition from child to teenager, she found his sense of humor annoying at times.

     Heather’s mother, Lynette, craned her head to see around her husband’s body. “Did something happen today that has you upset?”

     Heather shook her head and returned her attention to her schoolwork. She didn’t see Jay stick his tongue out at her when their parents weren’t watching, but she sensed he did so.  You didn’t spend the majority of your life in a twenty-seven foot trailer without being able to sense just about everything, from the mood your family members were in, to who was coming down with a cold, to when Jay was up to something he’d get in trouble for, like snitching a cookie ten minutes before supper was ready, or sticking his tongue out.

     Heather didn’t bother to tattle on her brother.  First of all, she could tell her father wouldn’t appreciate another disruption, and second of all, Jay would just deny he’d stuck his tongue out anyway.

     Heather loved being a circus kid, but lately she found herself wanting to call one place home, instead of ‘home’ being a trailer that followed the circus from town to town. And now that she was twelve, Heather had begun to envy girls who had their own bedrooms. Bedrooms with doors that locked, and kept nosey little brothers out.  Her parents’ bedroom was on one end of the trailer, and it had an accordion-style door that slid shut and locked. Heather’s bedroom was nothing more than a raised bunk on the opposite end of the trailer, with the kitchen, living room, and bathroom separating it from her parents’ room.  She supposed she was luckier than Jay, who didn’t have a space to call his own.  Each morning he had to help Mom roll the couch back against the wall, so the family would have a place to sit and eat breakfast.

     The girl scooped strands of her long hair behind her ears. Heather’s father said her hair was the same color that her mother’s had been when Mom was younger – a golden blond with vanilla highlights throughout.  Jay’s hair was darker, like Mom’s was now – dishwater blond, as Heather had heard it referred to, though Mom playfully pouted and called it “mossy brown” whenever she was bemoaning what the passage of time had done to her hair color. 

Heather hoped her hair didn’t turn mossy brown as she got older, but if it did, she was going to color it.  She’d seen advertisements for hair color in the Seventeen magazines her friend, Michelle, passed onto her when Michelle was done reading them.

     Heather glanced at her parents. They were cuddled together on the only other couch in the trailer, watching a movie.  Heather’s father had built a wooden shelving unit that held the nineteen-inch T.V. set, the radio/cassette player, and the VCR the family had just gotten for Christmas. Like everything else Heather sensed because of how difficult it was to keep a secret in such a small space, she had known they were getting their first VCR long before it was wrapped and under the tree. She’d heard her parents talking about it one night after Jay had fallen asleep. And even if she hadn’t heard them talking about it, she had known something was going on when, in early-December, her father started building the shelving unit that now held their various means of entertainment.  Jay had never caught on though, so maybe secrets were easier kept than Heather realized, and maybe she was just especially perceptive, like Madam Boguslav, the gypsy fortune teller who traveled with the circus.

     Heather’s parents had their hands clasped, as they often did when they watched television together. Heather wondered what it would be like to still be in love after fourteen years of marriage. When her father had proposed, he hadn’t asked, “Lynette, will you marry me?” but instead had asked “Lynette, would you run away and join the circus with me?”  Of course, it had been a big joke, because Heather’s father had grown up in the circus, just like she and Jay were.  At the time Heather’s father had proposed to her mother, he was already part of the Benton Brothers Circus clown troupe. But Heather’s mother hadn’t been a circus kid, and Heather’s maternal grandparents hadn’t been pleased at the thought of their only daughter traveling far away from them for forty-six weeks out of each year with Fitzpatrick ‘Pat’ Langford.

As far as Heather knew, her grandparents had eventually reconciled themselves to the life that their daughter had chosen.  Heather’s mother was a ticket taker, and she helped sell cotton candy, or popcorn, or soft drinks, too, when needed.  She didn’t make a lot of money, but every little bit helped, as Heather had often heard her father say.

     Although her father was now the Boss Clown – circus lingo for the person who was in charge of the clown troupe, Heather often found herself wishing he had a more exciting job. When she was younger, Heather thought it was neat that her daddy was a clown, but now she wanted him to be like Kristof and train lions, or to be like Aleksander and teach the tigers to jump through flaming hoops.  Or to be the elephant handler, so someone who was kind and gentle would be Samara’s trainer.

     Heather closed her English book and stood. She walked over to the couch and sat down next to her mother.  The woman put an arm around her daughter, snuggling the girl to her side.

     “What’s wrong, sweetie? You haven’t been yourself since you came home from school.”

     “Nothing’s wrong,” Heather said. She twisted her hands a moment, then looked at her father. “Dad, can you train the elephants?”

     Heather’s father looked at her with surprise. When he saw she was serious, he chuckled. “I don’t think Bhagi would appreciate it if I took his job away. Besides, I don’t know much about elephant training.”

     “But you help him sometimes.”

     “Yeah, I do,” Pat acknowledged.  All circus performers, and even children who didn’t perform like Heather and Jay, were pressed into service to assist with animals, props, costume changes, supply delivery, raising and lowering the Big Top, and just about anything else that needed to be done.  “But just because I help Bhagi get the elephants to the Big Top, or just because I help him feed them every so often, doesn’t mean I know the first thing about training them.”

     “Well, Bhagi doesn’t know the first thing about training them, either.”

     Pat reached for the remote control and hit the ‘still’ button, pausing the movie’s action.  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

     “He’s been beating Samara.”

     “He’s been disciplining her, you mean,” Pat countered.

     “No. I mean he’s been beating her.”

     “Heather,” Lynette cautioned, “be careful what you say.  Especially when you don’t fully understand the situation.”

     Animal rights activists were beginning to follow circuses all across the nation. Their protests could put an end to a form of entertainment, and a way of life in the United States, that dated back to 1793, when the first circus performance in the new country took place with George and Martha Washington in the audience.

     “Yes, be careful about what you say,” Heather’s father warned with uncharacteristic sternness.  Normally he couldn’t keep his blue eyes from twinkling when he was talking to his children. It was Heather’s mother who did the majority of the disciplining, while saying she struggled to keep two kids and a clown in line.  “Besides, how Bhagi handles his elephants is none of your business.  He knows what he’s doing, Heather.”

     “But, Daddy, that’s just it, he doesn’t know. Or at least he doesn’t seem to care what he knows.”

     “What’s that supposed to mean?”

     “Samara is only acting up ‘cause she misses Sakari. It’s not her fault!  She doesn’t understand why Sakari doesn’t perform with her anymore.”

     “Then Bhagi will have to deal with that, not you.”

     “He is dealing with, only in the wrong way. He can’t beat her, and then expect that to fix the problem. He can’t beat her, and think that’s going to make Samara do what he wants her to. He can’t--”

     “Heather Ann, that’s enough.” Pat aimed the remote at the television and started the action again. “You stay away from Bhagi and mind your own business, do you understand?”

     When Heather didn’t answer, her father glared at her.

“Heather, I asked you a question. Do you understand?”

     The girl hesitated a moment longer, before nodding and saying around the lump in her throat, “Yeah...yeah, I understand.”

     Heather stood and rushed through the kitchen. Jay giggled and taunted in a stage whisper, “Elephant girl.”

     Heather ignored her brother and propelled herself onto her bunk. She turned her head toward the wall, and inhaled the scent of sawdust, straw, and animal dung that drifted in through the open window. The sound of the elephants calling to one another in that odd, gentle ‘chirp’ they possessed reached Heather’s ears.  Then she heard another sound...the sound of Samara mournfully trumpeting for her sister, each call growing weaker and more disheartened, as though Samara knew there was no hope that Sakari would return to her. 

Silent tears ran down Heather’s face. She didn’t care what her parents said, or what Jay called her.  She couldn’t help but cry right along with Samara, because like the elephant, Heather knew there was no hope that Sakari would return either.

Chapter 4

     Johnny stood behind his desk in a Rampart classroom at eleven-fifteen on Thursday morning. Though it had been almost two years since Kelly Brackett had turned the bulk of the paramedic training over to the fire department, Doctor Brackett was still considered the program’s mentor. Or at least John Gage thought of him as the program’s mentor, which meant Johnny sometimes looked to Brackett for an opinion, or for assistance with a classroom lecture.

The final step toward full integration of paramedic training within the fire department would come when the department had its own training facility. There had been talk of a new building being erected for just that purpose. There had also been talk of using one of the older fire stations for the purpose of paramedic training, while building a new station to replace the one that would be retired. Debate continued in that area, and Johnny didn’t foresee a decision being made any time soon.  He assumed the decision would come when Rampart no longer had the room to house the training program, which Johnny figured was a few years off yet.  Knowing the fire department the way he did, Johnny was aware no money would be spent on a new building, or on revamping an old fire station for paramedic classroom space, until it was absolutely necessary.  Not that the department didn’t want well-trained paramedics.  It was simply that the administrators of the annual budget would be just as happy if those well-trained paramedics could continue learning their craft in a building – in this case Rampart Hospital – that the fire department didn’t have to pay the overhead on.   

Johnny didn’t look up when he heard someone enter the room. He assumed his visitor was one of his students. Tests had been taken at eight o’clock that morning that were leading up to the final exams that would be given in another three weeks. This session was almost over for Johnny, and a new group of students would be entering the program in mid-February. Because of those tests, Johnny assumed a student anxious to receive his or her grade was hovering around the doorway. 

You’d think they’d know me well enough by now to realize that I’m not a guy who’s jumpin’ at the chance to wade through paperwork.

Johnny resisted the urge to sigh as he stacked the papers, and lightly tapped them against the desk’s top before putting them in the leather satchel he carried. If there was one thing he disliked about his new role, it was the paperwork.  John Gage was far more of a hands-on guy, than he was one to sit behind a desk grading papers.  But as Hank Stanley had once told him, you had to take the bad with the good when it came to accepting promotions, so Johnny had learned to do just that over the past two years. He enjoyed being in front of a classroom in the role of instructor, and had been told he had a natural gift for teaching. Johnny didn’t know if that was true, but he did recognize that his exuberance, sense of humor, energy, and love of paramedic work, made it easy for him to connect with the young people he was teaching. Or maybe it was nothing more than what Roy often said when he was teasing Johnny about his role as paramedic trainer – “Anyone who likes to hear himself talk as much as you do should make a good teacher.”

Johnny still didn’t glance up when he said, “I haven’t even started to look at the tests yet, so if you’ve come for your grade, you might as well do something productive – like go chase after a fire truck.”

Johnny recognized the chuckle, because it sounded like it belonged to Roy DeSoto in his younger days. 

“I’m not one of your students yet, and the last time I chased after a fire truck my uncle Johnny told me to get lost before my father saw me.”

Johnny laughed at the memory.  Chris had been seventeen, and had shown up at a fire because he was in the area, and had observed Station 51 on the scene.  Johnny had chased Chris off for two reasons. One: because they didn’t need any bystanders getting hurt. And two: because Johnny knew that if Roy found out Chris was contemplating a career with the fire department, as opposed to attending college, Roy was going to be more upset than Chris was prepared to deal with, and more upset than Roy would want to display in front of his station mates. Roy was a private man, and matters of the heart that involved his family were ones he had preferred to keep within the walls of his home, rather than within the walls of Station 51.

“Chris, come in.” Johnny stepped around the desk. “And shut the door,” he added for good measure, not wanting anyone passing by in the hall to see Chris talking to him, and then mention Chris’s visit to Roy. 

Chris did as Johnny requested, knowing full well the reason for it. He walked to the front of the classroom and sat at one of the desks, while Johnny hiked himself up to perch on his own desk.

“I was going to tell you last night that I’d stop and see you today,” Chris said, “but then I decided I’d better not since Dad was sitting right there.”

“Chris, I really hate deceiving your dad like this.”

“You’re not deceiving him. I am.”

“Maybe so, but he’s not gonna look at it that way when he finds out I’ve known about this since November.”

“Well, that’s the way he should look at it. I’m an adult, which means I can confide in who I want to.”

“Your father might buy that if you’d chosen to confide in anyone but his best friend.”

“He’ll get over it.”

“Maybe,” Johnny said, “or maybe not. And it’s the ‘maybe not’ that I’m worried about.”

“I won’t let him be mad at you, Johnny, I promise. I’ll talk to him. I’ll make him understand this was my decision, and my decision alone. You didn’t know anything about it until it was too late.”

Johnny had to admit that last was true.  He hadn’t known Chris had taken the department’s entry exam until after the fact. Nor had Johnny known until Chris confided in him at Roy’s birthday dinner in November, that Chris was taking EMT courses at a local vocational school. Chris had scheduled those courses around his classes at U.S.C., and had his grades mailed to a friend’s house, which meant Joanne and Roy were unaware of Chris’s extra course load. If nothing else, Johnny gave Chris credit for being as prepared as he could be for acceptance into the fire department’s paramedic program.  Not only was Chris carrying a full load of classes he had no interest in, but he had taken on additional classes in preparation for the career he really wanted to pursue - and was earning straight A’s in those classes.

“When are you gonna tell him?” Johnny asked.

“I...I don’t know. It has to be soon, because I dropped out of school today.”

“And it has to be soon, because one of these days someone from headquarters is bound to tell your dad you took the entry exam and passed with flying colors.”

“I know,” Chris acknowledged.

Chris had asked the chief of the fire department, Robert Marcuson, not to mention his entry exam results to Roy. “I’d like to surprise my dad and tell him myself, Chief,” had been the way Chris had put it to the man. The chief had agreed to keep Chris’s secret, agreeing that no one other than Chris should give this type of good news to Roy. 

“I know you asked Chief Marcuson to keep things quiet for you, but this kind of stuff has a way of getting around, Chris.” 

“I know,” Chris acknowledged again. “And it also has to be soon because...” Chris paused and smiled. “Because I’m going to be in your class next month.”

Johnny didn’t know whether to smile or groan. He was thrilled over the thought of teaching Chris DeSoto what Johnny himself had learned from Kelly Brackett and Roy fourteen years earlier.  As a matter of fact, he’d be honored to teach Roy’s oldest son – the boy he’d known since Chris was five.  But at the same time, Johnny didn’t relish the thought of Roy’s reaction to all of this.

“I...I’ve been trying to decide how to break the news to Dad.”

“Good idea.  Maybe you’ll come up with something over the weekend.”

“I don’t have until the weekend.”

“Why not?”

“Because the list of incoming rookies goes out this afternoon. Headquarters will deliver one to Dad, won’t they?”

“Yeah,” Johnny sighed, knowing the situation was rapidly going from bad to worse. “They’ll deliver one to all station captains to post on their bulletin boards.”

“I know I shouldn’t have waited this long, but you saw how Dad was last night.  I just haven’t been able to tell him. If I even attempt to tell him that I’m not interested in getting a degree in business, or finance, or whatever Dad thinks would be good for me, then he gets upset.  I know how much he wants me to attend college, Johnny, and I know and understand the reasons why.  Dad doesn’t think I do, but he’s wrong.  I do understand, and I respect his reasons, but they’re just not for me.  I’m not happy, and I don’t want to be a banker, or an investment broker, or a math teacher.  I want to be a paramedic, just like my father was.  I want to make a career for myself within the fire department, just like my father has. I don’t know why he can’t respect that. He doesn’t have to like it, but I wish he would hear what I’m saying and respect it.”

“Chris, your dad...he loves you a lot.  He just wants what he thinks is best for you, like all fathers want for their sons. He just wants you to have things easier than he did.”

“I realize that, but already my life is different than Dad’s. He was married to Mom when he was my age, and I was born two years after that. I’m not married, and I don’t plan to be any time soon, let alone become a father within the next couple of years.”

Johnny grinned. “Glad to hear it, because I don’t think your old man’s heart could take that news.”

Chris smiled back. “I don’t think so, either.” 

Chris shifted nervously in his seat, his actions suddenly contrasting with the confident, young adult he normally was.

“Uh...Johnny?”

“Yeah?”

“Remember how you told me that when the day came I knew for sure what my decision was about my future...that when and if the day came I knew I wasn’t going to college, that you’d help me break the news to my dad?”

“I wish I could say I don’t remember, but yeah, I do.”

“Well, I could sure use your help now.”

“Chris, we tried to talk to your father about this together last year when you were still in high school, and look where it landed you.”

“I know, I know.  Right at U.S.C.  But that’s because neither one of us wanted to push the issue with Dad.  That’s because you wanted me to give college a try for Dad, and I agreed to it, even though I knew it was never going to work out.”

“So you’re sayin’ it’s my fault you went to U.S.C?”

“No...no, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m just saying that...well, that I know now, I should have done what I knew was right for me.  I went to college for my dad, Johnny, not for myself. I gave it a try, but I can’t keep trying for three and a half more years.  I’ll go crazy sitting in lecture halls listening to stuff I don’t care about.  Mom and Dad can’t afford to spend money on an education I don’t want, and Dad is just gonna have to face that fact.”

“Yeah,” Johnny agreed, “he is.”  

In many ways, Johnny understood Roy’s desire for Chris to obtain his college degree and have an easier life, financially speaking, than Roy had experienced. But in other ways, he didn’t understand why Roy wasn’t willing to see that Chris was an adult now and capable of making his own decisions - even if some of those decisions turned out to be mistakes, like were made by every young adult as he or she traveled through their late teens and into their early twenties.

Johnny crossed his arms and did his best to glare at the young man. “I’m afraid to ask this question, but I’m gonna take the plunge. Whatta ya’ want me to do to help your cause?”

“You don’t have to do anything.”

“I know. But for you, Christopher Roy, and only you, I will.  Well...I’d do the same for Jenny and John, too, but don’t tell them that, ‘cause it’s gonna take until John is nineteen for your dad to get over being pissed at me for this.”

“Do you really think so?”

“Let’s put it this way, your dad’s one of the most easy-going men I know, and not much gets him riled. But I’ve known him for too long not to predict that this news is gonna have Roy so upset that, next to him, I’ll look calm and easy-going.”

“Maybe I’d better tell him myself, then. I don’t want to put you in the middle, Johnny. I just thought that hearing it from you...well, I thought he’d take it better.”

Johnny arched an eyebrow. “Really?”

Chris laughed. “No. I’m a chicken-shit.”

Johnny couldn’t keep the twinkle out of his eyes. “That’s what I thought.” 

“The other thing is, I have to work today.  Normally I could be an hour or two late if I let Bill know ahead of time, but his wife’s got health problems, and she’s scheduled for tests this afternoon. I promised Bill I’d handle things while he was at the hospital with her.  I would have told Dad earlier if I had known all of this would hit on the same day, but I didn’t.”

“Timing is everything.”

When that was all Johnny said, and he didn’t say it with a smile, Chris knew the man was sending him a message that said, “You know you had plenty of opportunities to tell your dad that you’re joining the department.  You know you put it off until the last minute. You’re nineteen years old, and you should be facin’ your old man on your own.”

Chris started to stand. “Listen, just forget I came by. This is something I have to do on my own.  I’ll go talk to Dad right now. I’ll--”

Johnny waved the young man back to his seat. “I’ll talk to him, Chris. But all I’m gonna do, is tell him that I’m seein’ him on your behalf, and tell him what you’ve decided to do.  From that point, you’re gonna have to explain the reasons why.”

“I will.”

“You’re gonna have to make him understand how important this is to you.”

“I will.”

“You’re gonna have to make him understand that you’re committed to this decision, and that three months from now you won’t be changing your mind.”

“I will.”

“And you’re gonna have to beg him not to kill me.”

Chris laughed again at the teasing. “He’s not going to kill you.  He’ll respect my decision more if he hears it from you first.”

“Christopher, I’ll say this. You view life through rose-colored glasses.”

“No, I mean it. Once Dad gives it some thought, and realizes you’re going to be one of my first instructors, he won’t stay mad, Johnny.  I know he won’t.  He’ll be willing to accept this, and once he does, I think he’ll be proud of me.”

“Chris, your dad has always been proud of you.”

“I know. But I think this will make him especially proud, don’t you?”

Johnny gave a reluctant nod.  Given time to grow accustomed to Chris’s decision, Johnny knew that Roy would be proud to have another DeSoto within the ranks of the Los Angeles County Fire Department.  But just how much time Roy would need to grow accustomed to that decision, and grow to accept it, was not something Johnny could predict.

Chris stood, which prompted Johnny to stand as well. The nineteen-year-old gave a quick hug to the man he thought of as a second father.

“Thanks for keeping all of this a secret, Uncle Johnny.”  

“You’re welcome, Sport.”

As Chris stepped out of their embrace he said, “Oh, and next month when I’m in your class?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t call me Sport, okay?”

Now it was Johnny’s turn to laugh. “Only if you promise not to call me Uncle Johnny.”

Chris held out his hand, and the two men shook on their joke.

“Deal.”

Johnny nodded. “Deal.  Actually, I plan to make an example out of you, DeSoto. You’re gonna think I’m the toughest, orneriest, meanest son-of-a-bitch you’ve ever had for a teacher by the time I’m through with you.”

“Yeah, right,” Chris chuckled. He’d heard enough talk around the fire department about what type of a teacher John Gage was, and though many descriptions had been used, an ‘ornery, mean, son-of-a-bitch’ wasn’t one of them.  Tough – yes, John Gage was tough on his students if by tough a person meant Johnny cared, and wanted to see everyone live up to his or her highest potential.  But his students also found him to be fun, knowledgeable, accessible, and eager to see them succeed.  Therefore, Chris knew he couldn’t ask for a better teacher, or a better mentor.

“You’ll call me later,” Chris asked, “so I know what to expect when I beard the lion in his den?”

“Yeah, I’ll call you later. Are you gonna be at home tonight, or at work?”

Chris worked part-time for a man named Bill Mattson. Mattson had gone out on a limb and started a business for personal computer set up and repair – something Chris claimed was going to catch on in large way over the next decade. Johnny had no idea if that was true or not, but Chris seemed to enjoy the work. He had a strong interest in computers, though evidently not enough of an interest to prompt him to stick with college and study computer science.

“At work, but I’ll be home by nine.”

“Okay. I’ll call you then,” Johnny promised, knowing there would be no chance of Roy answering the phone, since he was on duty until eight the following morning. On an after thought, Johnny added, “And make sure you pick up the phone. I don’t wanna have to deal with your mom if she’s out for my hide, too.”

“Mom’s not gonna mind.”

Johnny wasn’t too sure about that.  After all, firefighting was dangerous work, so the paramedic couldn’t guess how Joanne would feel about her son joining the department.  Joanne had never been vocal one way or another regarding Chris’s future – at least not in front of Johnny, so the man didn’t know if she felt as strongly about a college education as Roy did, or if she just wanted her children to pursue whatever job it was that made them happy.

“Maybe not,” Johnny said in answer to Chris, “but still, just make sure you’re the only other DeSoto I have to talk to, after I finish talkin’ to your dad.”

“Will do,” Chris promised.  “Thanks again, Johnny.  I really appreciate this. I owe you one.”

“All you owe me is to do well during your training, and to prove to your dad that this was the right decision.”

“You know I will.”

Johnny smiled.  This was one area where he had the utmost confidence. “Yeah, I do.”

“Talk to you later.”

“Okay,” Johnny agreed. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Should I wish you luck?”

“I think you’d better wish us both luck.”

“Okay, I’ll wish us both luck then,” Chris agreed, before saying goodbye and heading out of the door.

Johnny watched Chris exit the room. He didn’t envy either of them – himself or Chris – the discussions that were to be had with Roy. Johnny would break the ice, but Chris was the one who had to navigate through that ice when he faced Roy about this sometime in the next twenty-four hours.

The paramedic instructor glanced at the clock as his stomach growled. He picked up his satchel and headed for the door. He’d see if Dixie wanted to eat lunch with him in the cafeteria before he went to Station 26.  He didn’t want to show up when the men were eating, but instead, was hoping to make a quiet entrance and go directly to Roy’s office.  As far as the test papers were concerned, Johnny would grade those at his kitchen table later in the day. He had no afternoon classes scheduled, since his students were doing a lab from one to four.  The next morning’s instruction was scheduled from seven-thirty to eleven.  After that, Johnny would be free to pick up John DeSoto, and didn’t have to report to work again until Monday, unless a station captain in need of a fill-in paramedic had headquarters summon him into work on Sunday.

As Johnny approached the Emergency Room nurses’ station, Dixie looked up and smiled.

“Hey, Johnny.”

“Hi, Dix. I’m gonna get a sandwich.  Wanna join me?”

“Sure.” Dixie let the nurse standing next to her know where she was going, then stepped out from behind the counter.  “I saw Chris leaving a few minutes ago.”

“Chris?”

“Chris DeSoto.”

“Oh. Was he here?”

Dixie looked up at the man as they traveled the corridor. She studied his face a long moment, taking note of the way he refused to meet her gaze.

“You know something, John Gage?”

Johnny’s eyes tentatively slid to the woman.  “What?”

“You always were a rotten liar, and you still are.”

Johnny refused to reply, and Dixie had the good grace to drop the subject.  Whatever reason had prompted Chris to drop by Rampart, and had prompted Johnny to act as though he hadn’t seen the young man, was none of Dixie’s business.  The two old friends ate lunch together, and then went their separate ways an hour later. 

Chapter 5

Station 26’s overhead door was shut as Johnny passed by. He swung into the side driveway that would lead him to the rear parking lot.  He pulled the Land Rover into an empty space, climbed out, locked the door, and shut it.  The station’s back door that led into the dayroom, and the service door that led into the apparatus bay, were both closed.  The basketball hoop was idle, and none of the guys were about emptying garbage, hanging hose, or sitting at the picnic table shooting the bull.  Johnny wondered if Roy and his men were out on a call, but decided he wouldn’t know until he rang the bell.

Rather than ring the bell by the dayroom door, Johnny followed the sidewalk to the front of the building.  He stopped at the front door, hesitated a long moment, then pressed the bell with his index finger.  If Roy was in his office, he’d answer the summons.  That meant Johnny could guide the man back to his office, and the discussion could take place without the rest of Roy’s crew realizing Johnny had been there.  Not that his presence mattered to Roy’s crew, but if Roy came out of his office in a bad mood after Johnny left, then the less the men were aware of regarding who Roy’s visitor had been, the less likely that gossip would start to spread.

Because John Gage had often thought that if he didn’t have bad luck he’d have no luck at all, it didn’t surprise him when Roy didn’t answer the door, but rather, a paramedic did.

“Chief Gage!” the young man greeted, referring to Johnny by his formal title, as a result of John being the chief instructor of the paramedics.  “How are you?”

Johnny stepped into the building as the twenty-three-year-old opened the door wider. “I’m fine, Brett. How are you doin’?”

“Good. Still learning a lot, just like you said I would, but I really like being a paramedic.”

“Glad to hear it.”

Johnny looked over Brett’s shoulder as they stepped into the apparatus bay. Both Engine 26 and Squad 26 were parked there.

“Say, Brett, is Roy...Captain DeSoto around?”

“Yeah. He’s in the kitchen. We’re having a meeting. Come on, I’ll take you to him.”

Like I told Chris, timing is everything.

“No, no. That’s okay.  I’ll wait in his office until you guys are done.”

“Cap won’t mind,” Brett assured. 

By virtue of the fact that Brett had seen John Gage at Station 26 several times since he’d been assigned here seven months earlier, he knew his captain and the paramedic chief were good friends.  One of the older guys had told Brett that Gage and DeSoto had been partners out of 51’s for eleven years – longer than any other paramedic partnership had lasted thus far in the department.

“I’ll wait in Captain DeSoto’s office, Brett. Go ahead and get back to your meet--”

Before Johnny could finish his sentence, Roy poked his head out of the kitchen doorway.

“Who’s our visitor, Bre--”

Roy smiled when he caught sight of Johnny.  “What’s the matter?  Didn’t Joanne feed you enough last night?  If you’re here to bum a free lunch, we finished eating an hour ago.”

Johnny smiled in return, only because he knew Roy would wonder why he didn’t. Brett slipped by Roy and returned to the kitchen so his superiors could talk in private. 

“Yep, Joanne fed me enough, and nope, I’m not here to bum lunch.  Listen, Brett told me you’re having a meeting, so I’ll wait in your office until you’re done.”

“It might be a while.”

“That’s okay.  The only thing I have to do this afternoon is grade test papers, so--”

One of Roy’s men peered out of the kitchen.  “Hey, Johnny, do ya’ miss ridin’ with our captain so much that you’re here to sign onto our crew?”

“Hi, Tom.  And no, I don’t miss your captain that much.”

“That’s good, ‘cause he probably won’t let you drive this time around either.”

“Probably not,” Johnny responded to the joke that he’d started years ago, when so often relegated to the role of Roy’s navigator.

Another man came to the doorway. “Good to see ya’, Johnny.  You gonna join us for bowling next Tuesday night?”

“I plan to.”

“Dwyer says he’s gonna win that ten bucks back from you he lost two weeks ago.”

“Mac, Dwyer’s been tryin’ to win that ten bucks back from me since 1974.”

Donald McWinters laughed before returning to the kitchen with Tom Weiss.  “Catch ya’ later, Johnny.”

“Yeah, see ya’ next week.”

Roy cocked an eyebrow at his friend. “Now that you’ve disrupted my entire crew, at least come in and get a cup of coffee. You’re welcome to sit with us, as long as you keep your smart comments to yourself.”

Johnny shook his head without smiling at his friend’s teasing barb. “Nah, that’s all right. I’ll be in your office when you’re finished.”

Roy watched Johnny turn around and enter his office.  A slight frown tugged at the corners of the captain’s mouth. It wasn’t like Johnny to choose isolation over an invitation to join a group.

Roy stood there a moment longer, then shrugged.  He reentered the kitchen, and soon forgot what he perceived to be Johnny’s odd behavior, as he continued the meeting with his crew.

__________________

Johnny stood with his hands in the back pockets of his uniform trousers. While he waited for Roy’s meeting to end, the paramedic chief studied the photos encased in matching oak frames that Roy had on a shelf. 

The first picture Johnny’s eyes traveled to was of Roy and himself, taken as they stood next to Squad 51. Johnny couldn’t remember if the year had been 1975 or 1976.  He was grinning, and had an arm bent at the elbow and propped on Roy’s shoulder, while Roy leaned back against the squad with a smile. Johnny knew there were other pictures of them, better pictures, taken together in their dress uniforms, so why Roy chose this one to display Johnny couldn’t guess.  Maybe it reminded Roy of the same thing it reminded Johnny of – a special time, and a special friendship.  A time that you only realize passed far too quickly after it’s over and you can’t recapture it. 

Johnny moved two steps to his left. Chris’s high school graduation picture, and school pictures of Jennifer and John from the current year were grouped together.  Next stood a picture of Joanne and Roy seated at a round table, and taken by the photographer at Chet’s wedding.  After that, came the family picture of Roy, Joanne, and the kids taken sometime prior to Christmas.  Johnny recognized it as the same photo Joanne had enclosed in the Christmas card she’d mailed to him. 

Johnny smiled at the uncomfortable look on Roy’s face, as though the tie he was wearing was knotted too tightly. Or as though he was too used to wearing his open collared uniform shirts, and had no idea how to hold his head when he had a tie around his neck. You’d have to know Roy as well as Johnny did to pick up on that nuance of the photo, because Roy was smiling and had his hands resting on Joanne’s shoulders. As was typical for Roy, he didn’t broadcast his discomfort.  Roy rarely made a fuss about anything, so when he did get angry, you stood up and took notice.  Johnny had learned that long ago, and based on Chris’s request of him, the paramedic knew Roy’s kids had learned it as well.

Johnny focused on the photo again. Joanne and Jennifer were seated in chairs angled toward one another, their knees slightly touching.  John stood next to Joanne, leaning against his mother’s thigh and grinning as though being dressed up for the camera - and even wearing a navy blue tie – was the best thing anyone could have asked him to do that day.

Chris stood beside Roy looking so much like his father, that Johnny smiled again while shaking his head.  It seemed like just yesterday that Chris was John’s age, and Johnny himself wasn’t much older than Chris was now.  But that particular yesterday was long in the past, and Chris was a grown man on the verge of joining the fire department. 

Johnny felt a surge of pride that surprised him, and made him realize what a father feels like when he knows he’s done a good job of raising his son.  Not that Johnny had anything to do with raising Chris, but he was close to Chris in the way an uncle or much older brother would be.  He wanted to see good things come Chris’s way, and despite Roy’s desire for Chris to complete college, Johnny felt Chris was making the right decision for himself. Now all that was left was to figure out how to tell Roy that.

“What? You don’t see enough of the DeSotos as it is?”

Johnny turned as Roy entered the room.  The captain carried a clipboard and a pen.

“Is this a closed door meeting?” Roy asked.

When Johnny gave a tight nod, surprise crossed Roy’s features. His question had been in jest.  There had never been a time when Johnny had asked that the door to Roy’s office be closed when he’d stopped by the station to shoot the breeze. Which lead Roy to conclude that Johnny had more on his mind than just killing time before going home to grade papers.

Roy closed the door and gestured to a chair across from his desk.

“Have a seat.”

The captain laid the clipboard on his desk. It held notes from his meeting that he’d type up later, photocopy, and circulate amongst his crew. Without looking, Roy slipped his pen into the left breast pocket of his shirt, and then sat down.  The last time Roy could recall sitting across from Johnny like this was the day in 1971, when Johnny had come to speak to him about the fledging paramedic program.

In an attempt to lighten the tension that suddenly prevailed, Roy folded his hands, rested them on his desktop, and gave his friend a solicitous smile.

“You’re a little old to join the fire department, aren’t you, son?  To be honest, a guy your age has to consider that his back and knees aren’t what they used to be.”

Roy’s words got the desired effect. Johnny’s smile was followed by a chuckle. 

“Don’t you worry about my back and knees, Pally.  They’re holding up just fine.”

“Just wait until you’re forty-one.”

“Is that some kinda prediction?”

“Based on how my back and knees feel on some mornings, yeah it is.  I think they’re telling me we climbed too many flights of stairs in our day while wearing full turnout gear, and ran from a few too many burning buildings.”

“We sure did enough of those things,” Johnny agreed. “Guess that means I’d better get all the use out of my back and knees I can before I hit forty.”

“That’s what it means.”

Roy watched as Johnny’s eyes flicked to the pictures on the shelf.  The captain couldn’t quite identify his friend’s mood. It was unusual for Roy to see Johnny unsure of himself, or downright nervous, but he appeared to be a both.

“Johnny?”

Johnny returned his attention to Roy.  He pursed his lips a brief second, then decided there was no use in being evasive, or in drawing this out any longer.

The paramedic instructor reached into a pocket of his uniform shirt.  He pulled out a folded envelope and handed it across the desk to Roy.

“Here. I picked this up at headquarters for you.”

Roy didn’t question Johnny’s action.  The paramedic chief had an office at fire department headquarters, so it wasn’t odd that Johnny might courier something to Roy if he planned on stopping by Station 26.

Roy opened the envelope. He took out the paper that was enclosed.  He unfolded it, read the opening paragraph from the chief of the department, and then nodded.

“The list of incoming rookies.”

“Yeah.”

Roy laid the paper aside without looking beyond the first name listed.

“Uh...I think you’d better read that.”

“Why?”

“I just think you’d better.”

Roy shot his friend a puzzled look before picking the paper back up.  Since the names were in alphabetical order, it didn’t take him long to reach, DeSoto, Christopher R. 

Roy stared at the name. He took three deep breaths, then looked at Johnny.

“You knew.” It wasn’t a question, and it was repeated. “You knew about this.”

“Yeah...yeah, I did.”

“How long?”

“How long have I known?”

“Yes, damn it.  How long have you known, Johnny?”

“I’ve known Chris had an interest in joining the fire department...in becoming a paramedic, since he was a junior in high school.  I’ve known that he took the entry exam since November.  He told me on that Sunday Joanne had your birthday dinner.”

“I see. When Chris claimed his car was making a noise that I couldn’t hear, and he took you for a ride with him because he wanted you to listen for it.”

“Yeah, that’s when.”

“And why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I promised Chris I wouldn’t.”

“Since when does your loyalty to Chris outweigh your loyalty to me?”

“It doesn’t, Roy.”

“It looks that way to me.”

“I know it does, but...”

Roy slammed a fist on his desk. “There’re no buts, Johnny!  I want him to finish college.”

Contrary to what usually happened when someone raised his voice at Johnny – he raised his voice in return – the man remained calm. 

“I know that, Roy.  And I wish for your sake that Chris would do that. I really do. But it’s not what he wants.  He doesn’t wanna finish college.”

“And you told him that was okay.”

“No, I didn’t.  I’ve asked him to talk to you about this, and he’s told me he’s tried to, but--”

“But nothing.  He’s living under my roof and he’ll do what I say.”

“Roy, he’s nineteen.  You can’t--”

“Oh yes I can. If he goes through with this...if Chris joins the department, he’ll have to find some place else to live.”

Johnny sat forward in his chair. “Roy, listen to me. If you don’t respect Chris’s decision...if you don’t accept that he’s a grown man and wants begin a job he thinks he’ll love doing, then you run the risk of losing him.  You run the risk of damaging what the two of you have as father and son.  I’ve watched you raise him, Roy.  I know what kind of a dad you are.  And because of that, I also know that you don’t wanna have a permanent break in your relationship with Chris. You’re too good of a father...you love your kids to much, to allow that to happen.”

“Don’t tell me what I have to respect...or accept, when it comes to my son. You don’t know the first thing about raising kids.”

Though Johnny knew Roy’s words came from anger, they still hurt. They reminded Johnny of Jessie, and how he’d never gotten the chance to raise her.  Roy’s words also negated all that Johnny had been to the DeSoto children, from favorite uncle, to mentor, to confidante, to trusted friend. Things that up until now, Johnny knew Roy had appreciated.

The paramedic chief hid the pain Roy’s words evoked. 

“I’m not trying to tell you anything, other than the facts.  Chris has joined the fire department and will be in my class next month. He dropped out of school this morning. You can blame me for all of that if you want to, because it won’t change the facts.”

Roy’s anger was always at its worse when his voice didn’t get louder, but instead, sounded more gravelly than usual - as it did now.

“And just what are the facts?”

“The facts are, that I’ve tried to talk Chris out of this, but at the same time I’ve always respected that he has to do what he thinks is right for himself.”

“He’s nineteen years old, Johnny! He doesn’t know what’s right for himself.”

“Oh no?  Well, you were married at nineteen and joined the Army. How would you have liked it if someone had said you didn’t know what was right for you?”

“Maybe I woulda’ been smart and listened. Maybe I woulda’ gone on to college after I got out of the service.  Maybe Joanne and I would have put off having kids for a few years so I could have gotten a degree and landed a good job.  Maybe--”

“Yeah, Roy. Maybe.  There isn’t a one of us who can’t go back to when we were nineteen and say “maybe this,” “maybe that,” or “if only I’d done that instead of this.”  As much as you want that to be different for Chris...for all of your kids, it’s not gonna happen.  Like all kids Chris’s age, he’ll make decisions his father doesn’t always agree with.  Some of those decisions will prove to be good ones, and some will prove to be bad. But that’s just the way it is.  It’s the only way Chris is gonna learn what’s right for him and what’s not.”

“I already know what’s right for him.”

“Roy, listen to yourself.  You’re being ridiculous.”

“Don’t tell me what I’m being and what I’m not being.  Despite what you and Chris might think, you are not his father.”

“I realize that.”

“Well you sure as hell aren’t acting like it.  And I don’t want him in your damn class, either. I don’t want him learning to hotdog like you used to.  I don’t want to visit my son in the hospital because he’s picked up your bad habits.”

This time the hurt did flick across Johnny’s face, but he quickly schooled his features into a neutral mask and stood.

“If you kick Chris out, tell him to call me if he needs a place to stay. But if you want my advice, Roy--”

“I don’t.”

“Well, tough shit, ‘cause you’re gonna get it anyway.  Instead of ‘talking’ to your son about this tomorrow morning, listen to him for a change.  It might save you a lotta grief in the long run.  You said I don’t know anything about raising kids, and you’re right, I don’t.  I never got the chance to raise my daughter. And if you think for one goddamn minute that doesn’t hurt me every single day of my life, then you’re wrong.  For your sake, don’t screw this up.  Don’t flush your relationship with your son down the toilet just because you want him to live out the dream you had for yourself.  Take it from a guy who knows, Roy.  It’s hell when you can’t hug your child anymore. It’s absolute hell.”

     Johnny turned on his heel and left the room. He didn’t look back as he opened the door, nor as he closed it behind him.

     Long after Johnny had departed Station 26, Roy remained seated at his desk. It was daunting to try and sort all of this out – Chris going behind Roy’s back and joining the department, Johnny’s knowledge of it, and ultimately the words Roy had exchanged with Johnny. Just the previous evening Roy had been so happy to see Chris studying, and now he felt like the rug had been pulled out from underneath his feet.  Had it all been a deception on the parts of Chris and his co-conspirator, John Gage, or was Johnny right?  Somewhere along the line...somewhere since Chris was a junior in high school, had Roy stopped listening to him, or stopped being willing to hear what Chris was saying when they talked about his future?

     The captain kneaded the bridge of his nose and gave a heavy sigh.  He reached for the phone, not sure whom he was calling -  Joanne?  Chris?  Johnny? – when the klaxons sounded.  Roy heard the station being summoned to a structure fire.  He pushed away from his desk and ran from his office.  For now, duty overrode family concerns...which was one reason why Captain Roy DeSoto didn’t want his son to join the fire department.    

Chapter 6

Heather Langford exited the flap known as the ‘back door’ fifteen minutes before Friday evening’s last performance under the Big Top ended.  Usually she stayed to watch her father and the other clowns close the show, but tonight she followed Jack Benton as he stomped toward the elephant domain. 

Heather glanced left. Her mother was still working. Lynette was helping Marie Russell scoop popcorn into boxes for the last round of sales that would come when the show let out. 

The twelve-year-old avoided the glare of the overhead lights, so neither her mother nor Jack Benton would spot her.  Her eyes flicked to the left and right when she came to an open area devoid of tents, booths, and trailers.  As Mr. Benton approached Bhagi, Heather dashed for the Indian’s home.  She scurried behind his trailer, and then slid along its smooth side to the end. She peered around the corner.  It was dark, and there were no floodlights on this side of the trailer, which made it easy for Heather to hide from the men.

Rather than swaying back and forth in their ankle chains like the elephants normally did, they stood straight and tense, as though they sensed something unpleasant was about to transpire.

Jack Benton ran the last few feet to Bhagi. Before the man could begin feeding his animals, Mr. Benton said, “Bhagi, I wanna talk to you.”

Bhagi turned to face his boss.  He planted his knuckles on his hips and leaned back on his heels. 

“So talk.”

“What was that about in the ring?”

“What?”

“You know what.  The elephant that wouldn’t do anything.  She just stood there trumpeting and looking around. She pulled the same baloney at the first performance, too.”

Bhagi shrugged. He was still wearing the white pantaloons he performed in, and the vest brocaded in gold and red.  He was shirtless, and though a small man, the muscles in his shoulders and upper arms were pronounced from the physical labor caring for the elephants required.

“Don’t shrug.” Like Bhagi, Jack Benton was still in his costume.  He was the ringmaster, and wore a black top hat and black tuxedo with tails. “I want an answer.”

“I have no answer for you. She is in a bad mood.”

“Why?”

“Who knows?  Sometimes elephants are like a woman.  They need a good beating to make them behave.”

Heather watched as Mr. Benton chewed on his lower lip. She knew he didn’t condone abuse of the animals used in his circus, but she also knew he’d pretend not to see what was evident, in an attempt to live up to the motto, “the show must go on.”

Heather wanted to yell, “You do too know, Bhagi!  You know why Samara won’t perform.  It’s your fault.  It’s your fault for gambling, and then selling Sakari to pay off what you owed people.  It’s not Samara’s fault, it’s yours!”

The girl dug her fingernails into her palms as she fought to remain silent. If the men saw Heather, they’d send her away, and Mr. Benton might tell her father he’d caught her eavesdropping.  Though Pat Langford wasn’t often strict with his children, Heather knew there were certain areas where he tolerated no disobedience. His children sticking their nose into circus business was one of those areas. Heather had already been told to stay away from Bhagi.  Now here she was spying on him and Mr. Benton.  If her dad found out, Heather would likely be grounded the next time her family made a trip to town, and have to remain by herself in the trailer.  To a circus kid, that was the ultimate punishment – being confined to the small trailer you already spent more time in than you wanted to.

Heather’s concern for Samara overrode any concern she had for herself.  She listened as Jack Benton said, “Whatever the problem is, you get it resolved by tomorrow afternoon’s performance.  I can’t afford to feed an animal that won’t work.  If she doesn’t do what she’s supposed to, then she’ll be the next elephant sold.  And if that happens, I just might have to start looking for a new elephant trainer. One who knows how to do his job...and one who doesn’t spend his free time drowning his sorrows in a bottle.  Do you understand me?”

Bhagi’s jaw clenched. He didn’t answer Mr. Benton, and for a few seconds Heather thought Bhagi might punch the man. 

“Bhagi, do you understand?”

Bhagi turned his head and spit into the dirt. That action was the only form of contempt he openly displayed. He wiped his mouth, and then faced Mr. Benton once again. 

“I understand.”

“Good. Then I expect you to make certain she’s ready for tomorrow afternoon’s performance.”

“She be ready.”

“She’d better be,” was the last thing Mr. Benton said on the subject before swiveling on one heel of his gleaming black dress shoe and walking away.

Bhagi’s eyes narrowed as he tracked the man’s movements toward the front gate. Benton would stand there and thank people for coming to the show until the last patron exited. 

The Indian turned and marched to his trailer.  Heather ducked behind the structure. She dropped to her stomach and slithered beneath it. She heard the door open, then a faint glow of light arced across the ground in front of her.  Heavy footsteps sounded from above Heather’s head. When the door slammed, Heather slid forward.  Though her view of the world was sideways, she could see Bhagi stomping toward Samara with a thick club in his hand.  The elephant jerked on her chains and screamed as her trainer approached.  Heather squeezed her eyes shut as the first ‘Whap!’ of the club sounded against Samara’s side.

The elephant fought to get away, but the thick chains held her in place.  She screamed again, and her companions trumpeted their distress over her pain. 

 Heather didn’t know how long Samara’s beating went on until she could no longer stand it.  She couldn’t be Samara’s friend and allow this to continue. She scooted out from beneath the trailer, scrambled to her feet, and dashed across the dirt.  As Bhagi’s right hand rose again, Heather grabbed his elbow and yanked backwards. 

“Bhagi, stop!  Stop it! Leave her alone!”

The Indian whirled around and pushed Heather aside.

“Go away, girl!”

“No!” Heather regained her footing and scrambled for the man again.  “Stop! Leave Samara alone!”

The girl snared Bhagi’s wrist and wrestled for possession of the club, but she was no match for the Indian’s strength.  Sweat ran down his chest, and he panted like an enraged animal as he swung the club up. Heather knew he was going to hit her with it. She turned to run as Bhagi grabbed her arm.  Heather twisted and fought to gain her freedom, but couldn’t wrench herself free.  Tears ran down her face as she gave hysterical gasps for air.  Just when Heather was sure the club would smash her skull, Bhagi’s hand was torn from her arm.

“Bhagi, enough!” Kristof’s voice sounded.

Bhagi grappled with the lion trainer.  “The girl...I told her to stay away!  She has no business here!  I teach her the lesson she needs, stupid girl!”

     Kristof looked over the struggling Bhagi’s shoulder as Rurik ran to help him restrain the Indian.

     “Heather, you go on now,” Kristof ordered.  “Get out of here!”

     Despite her loyalty to Samara, Heather didn’t argue. She knew the show would be getting out in a few minutes, and that the last thing Kristof wanted was for any patrons to witness what was going on.   Not only would Bhagi be in big trouble with Jack Benton, so would Heather. 

     With one last look at Samara, Heather ran toward her home.  Bhagi hadn’t been lying to Heather when he’d told her that elephants cry real tears.  Heather had always thought Bhagi had made that up, but tonight she saw he hadn’t.  Tears ran from Sarmara’s eyes as sobs racked her huge body.

     Heather cried harder as she stumbled for the Airstream.  Tears blinded her, but she couldn’t stop their flow.  The trailer was empty when she arrived, and by the time her family came in thirty-minutes later, Heather had climbed in her bunk and cried herself to sleep. 

__________________

     When Heather awoke, her eyes were puffy and her lashes stuck together for a moment.  At first, Heather couldn’t remember why she’d gone to bed so upset, but a mournful, weak trumpet brought it all back to her.  She sat up in her bunk, hunching forward so she wouldn’t hit her head on the ceiling. The trailer was dark, and she could barely make out the form of Jay sleeping on the pullout couch. 

     Heather reached for the shelf above her bed and found her flashlight.  She’d bumped her knees so many times on Jay’s bed while making a nighttime trip to the bathroom; that the flashlight had been in her Christmas stocking two year earlier. 

     The girl slid off her bed and eased herself to the floor.  She was still dressed in her blue jeans and white Benton Brothers Circus t-shirt, and was still wearing her tennis shoes.  After two back-to-back evening performances the whole family was tired, so Heather knew her parents wouldn’t have found it odd that she had fallen asleep before changing into her pajamas.  And there would have been no need to wake her up for supper, because they always ate before the first show started.

     Heather flicked the flashlight on, but kept the beam pointed toward the floor. She slipped by Jay’s bed without waking him, and briefly shined the light in front of her.  Her parents’ door was slid shut, and all was quiet behind it.  She pointed the light at the VCR clock next. It was ten minutes after three in the morning.

     Heather held her breath as she opened the door.  The hinges squeaked when the door reached a certain point, and the girl wasn’t sure exactly where that point was.  She opened the door only far enough to squeeze through.  When no squeak sounded, Heather gave a quiet sigh of relief.  She opened the screen door, stepped onto the first step, and eased the wooden door shut.  She then guided the screen door closed so it wouldn’t bang. She didn’t bother to use the second step, but instead, jumped to the dirt. 

     The grounds were dark except for the interspersed floodlights.  By this hour, even the men who stayed up late drinking and playing cards were in bed.  An overhead light cast shadows across the elephants.  Chanda, Kamala, and Madri were sleeping, but Samara’s eyes were open.

     Heather felt no fear as she ran to the seven thousand pound beast. She encircled Samara’s trunk with one hand, and placed the other against the elephant’s neck.  She hugged Samara, and Samara hugged Heather back by gently wrapping her trunk around Heather’s waist.

     The girl couldn’t keep her tears from starting again.  She pressed her face into Samara’s massive side and whispered, “Oh, Sarmara, I’m sorry Bhagi keeps hurting you.  I wish I could help you.  I wish I knew what I could do to help you.”

     The elephant seemed to take comfort in the young girl.  The friends stood together hugging, and with Heather murmuring words of comfort, until dawn broke and the girl had no choice but to return home.

     Heather slipped into the trailer as quietly as she’d exited it.  She climbed in her bunk and returned the flashlight to the shelf. She lay on her back and stared at the ceiling just two feet above her nose. For the first time in her life, Heather knew what it felt like to be helpless and scared.  She didn’t like those emotions, and realized that’s how poor Samara felt every day of her life. 

     The girl wiped at her tears.  She wanted to help Samara, but she didn’t know how.  It made her feel like a rotten person, but even worse, it made Heather feel like a rotten friend.

Chapter 7

     John Gage parked his Land Rover against the curb and shut the engine off.  He was directly in front of the main entrance doors of Spring Meadow Elementary School. Three other vehicles were parked along the curb with occupants sitting behind the steering wheels, and four women stood together on the sidewalk.  Johnny glanced at his watch.  The morning kindergarten session was due to let out in twelve minutes. Two yellow buses were parked in the school’s lot, waiting to be filled with the young students who didn’t live close enough to walk home, or who didn’t have parents waiting for them in vehicles. 

     Johnny rolled the driver’s side window all the way down, propped his left arm on its frame, and released his seat belt. He turned his body so it was angled to the right.  He kept his eyes on the front doors, so he’d be sure to spot John as the boy came out of school.

     The paramedic chief ignored the rumblings of his stomach. He’d left Rampart at ten minutes after eleven, and hadn’t taken the time to grab a sandwich in the cafeteria.  Johnny knew John wouldn’t have eaten lunch yet, so planned to stop at a McDonald’s and get something for both John and himself before heading to his ranch.  While he waited for the child, Johnny thought back to his conversation with Chris the prior evening.  Like Chris had promised, he picked up the phone when Johnny called at nine-fifteen. Since Chris answered on the first ring, Johnny was certain the young man had picked up the extension in his bedroom and probably had the door closed.  As soon as Chris was assured it was Johnny on the other end, he’d asked without preamble, “How did it go?”

     “Like I expected it would.”

     “What’s that mean?”

     “It means I’ll be lucky if your dad’s talking to me by the time John’s graduates from high school.”

     “He was that mad, huh?”

     “Chris, let’s put it this way. He wasn’t happy.  Not with you, and most especially, not with me.”

     “But none of this is your fault.”

     “I know.  And in time, I hope your father realizes that.”

     “I’ll make him realize that.”

     “I’d appreciate it if you could, but we’ll just have to see.”

     “What else did he say?”

     “The same stuff he always says. That he wants you to finish college.”

     “All right.”

     “Meaning?”

     There had been a hesitation on Chris’s part, before he said, “Well...meaning I know what I’m up against.  The same thing I’ve been up against since I was a junior in high school and first told Dad I was interested in becoming a paramedic.”

     “That’s about the size of it.”    

      “Mom hasn’t said anything.”

     “Huh?”

     “Dad musta’ called around seven-thirty.  He always does.”

     Johnny had known what Chris meant without having to ask further questions.  For as long as Johnny had worked with Roy DeSoto, Roy had always called home at seven-thirty each night when he was on-duty.  When Chris and Jennifer were young, it gave him the opportunity to talk to them before they went to bed.  It was a habit he’d continued after John had been born. 

     “So your mom hasn’t said anything at all?”

     “No. Which means one of two things. Either Dad didn’t say anything to her about your visit to the station, or she’s trying not to take sides between Dad and me.  I got home about thirty minutes ago, and she’s been fine.  You know, not acting upset with me or anything like that.”

     “Oh. Well, he might not have told her yet, or she might be thinking this through before she reacts. Your mom is pretty good that way.”

     “Yeah, I know.”

     “Listen, Chris, if things get real bad between you and Ro...your dad, and you need a place to stay for a while, you can come to my house.”

     “Thanks, but I don’t think...well, I don’t think that would be such a good idea.  It would only make things worse between you and dad.  I’ve got a couple of friends who share an apartment.  I know I could stay there until I figure out what to do.”

     “What I want you to do is stay in your father’s home. But if that’s not workable, remember that my offer stands.  I don’t want you worryin’ about how you’re gonna keep a roof over your head while you’re in training.”

     “Yeah, but living at my instructor’s house probably won’t look too good, will it?”

     “No, but we’ll keep it quiet if it comes to that.  Besides, it would only be for a few weeks at the most.  I’m sure once your dad has a chance to calm down and accept all of this, things will be fine.”

     “I hope you’re right.”

     “I know I’m right,” Johnny assured with more confidence than he was feeling.

     The pair had said goodbye then, and Johnny had gone to bed hoping Roy didn’t do something as foolish as kicking Chris out of the house, like he had threatened.  Johnny was fairly certain those words had little truth behind them, and that Roy really wouldn’t follow through on them, but he also knew from experience how volatile things could get between a nineteen-year-old and his father.

     Johnny jumped when a warm hand on his elbow startled him from his musings. He turned at the familiar voice.

     “Fancy meeting you here, Mr. Gage.”

     “Joanne!”

     Johnny opened the door and stepped out. He shut the door behind him so they didn’t have to hear the annoying ‘ding ding ding’ that indicated his keys were still in the ignition.

     Johnny studied the woman’s face a moment. Though his scrutiny didn’t give him a lot of clues, one thing he did determine was that Joanne wasn’t angry with him.

     “So...uh...I suppose Roy isn’t gonna let me take John for the weekend, huh?”

     “Though your name was mentioned quite loudly several times around our house this morning, he didn’t say anything about your plans with John one way or another.” Joanne lifted her left hand while giving Johnny a wink. “Seems I forgot to send John’s overnight bag with him this morning. You know how it is when you’re rushing around trying to get a kindergartner and a high schooler out of the house on time.”

     Johnny smiled as he accepted the G.I. Joe backpack. He lifted it through the open driver’s window and placed it on his seat for the time being.  The wink told him that Joanne had wanted to talk to him privately, and the ‘forgotten’ backpack was the excuse she’d used to get out of the house and meet him here.

     Johnny turned to face the woman again. “How...how did things go?”

     “Rough, Johnny. Rough.  Roy told me what was going on when he phoned last night from the station, but to say any of it surprised me...well, it didn’t. Certainly not as much as it surprised Roy, anyway.”

     “Whatta ya’ mean by that?”

     “I mean I’m well aware that Chris has been trying to tell his father for two years that he has no interest in attending college, and wants to join the fire department.  I’ve tried to tell Roy that he needs to listen to what Chris has to say, but he’d have no part of it. He felt that he knew what was best for Chris where a career was concerned.”

     “Jo, I hope you know that I didn’t encourage Chris to drop out of school and join the department.  He made that decision without consulting me.”

     “I know.”

     “And I did talk him into giving college a try. I wanted him to make this work for Roy’s sake.”

     “That’s just it though, Johnny. Chris can’t make it work for Roy’s sake. Chris has to make it work for his sake.”

     “I realize that.  I’ve realized it for a long time.”

     “Then you’re several steps ahead of Roy in that area.”

     “That’s just because I’m not Chris’s dad.  Hell, Jo, I don’t blame Roy for wanting the best for Chris.  For wanting Chris to get a college education and do something that doesn’t involve running into burning buildings.  If I had a son, I’m sure I’d want the same thing for him that Roy wants for Chris.”

     “You probably would, because in the end, all Roy wants is for Chris to have a job that doesn’t carry with it high risk factors, and offers a high salary range to boot.”

     “So what conclusion did they come to this morning?”

     “You mean after the yelling was over?”

     “Yeah.”

     “That Chris will go ahead with his plans to join the fire department and become a paramedic.”

     “I take it that was Chris’s decision, and that Roy still doesn’t agree with it.”

     “You take it right.”  

     “Roy didn’t kick him out of the house, did he?”

     “No. Why? Did he say he was going to?”

     “He mentioned something about it to me. I told Chris on the phone last night that if that happened, he could stay at my place until Roy cooled down.”

     “Well, Roy didn’t kick Chris out, and I wouldn’t have let him anyway.  Roy would have been the one sleeping in your spare room if he’d tried to kick our son out of the house, not Chris.”

     Johnny smiled. “You really know how to keep your old man in line, don’t you.”

     “You bet I do.”

     Johnny reached for the woman and pulled her to his chest. “Thanks, Jo.  I...God knows the last thing I want is for this choice of Chris’s to come between me and Roy. To ruin our friendship.  But...”

     “But you were put in the middle the day Chris confided in you.”

     Johnny released Joanne and stepped back.  “Yeah, that’s about the size of it.”

     “I understand, Johnny, and given time, Roy will, too.”

     “Are you okay with Chris’s decision?”

     “I’m okay with it,” the woman nodded. “Do I wish Chris wanted to do anything but join the fire department? In some ways, the answer to that question is yes.  The job is a dangerous one, and I don’t relish losing sleep worrying about both my husband and my son.  But do I realize that I’m lucky to have a kid who is as ambitious and smart as Chris is?  Yes, I do.  I know Chris will succeed at anything he puts his mind to.  And I also know that nineteen is young.  Just because he’s joining the fire department, doesn’t mean that someday he may not choose to return to college and pursue another career.”

     “That’s true,” Johnny agreed. He’d known a guy from Station 8 who had taken classes on his days off and eventually graduated from law school.  And he’d heard of several guys who had gone to college after retiring from the department and now, during mid-life, were succeeding in entirely new careers.

     Johnny shifted the subject as the kindergartners were led out of the front doors by two aids. 

     “I’m sorry all of this crap came along and ruined the day alone you and Roy had planned.”

     Joanne waggled her eyebrows. “Don’t worry, I’m not allowing it to ruin our day. Chris left for work thirty minutes ago, and Roy is in the garage trying to let off some steam by building god knows what.  I’ll take him out for lunch and see if I can get him to talk about this with me, then we’ll go back home and...talk some more.”

     Johnny laughed. “I just bet you will.”

     The adults looked up as John ran toward them.  He had his transformer backpack over his shoulders and was carrying his denim jacket.

     “Mom, you’re not supposed to be here!  I’m goin’ with Uncle Johnny today.”

     “I know, I know,” Joanne assured the boy, whose face reflected fear and disappointment that his plans with John Gage had been canceled for some reason. “I forgot to send your overnight bag with you this morning.  I came to bring it to Uncle Johnny.”

     “Oh. Okay. Well, bye!”

     Before John could open the driver’s door and climb in the Land Rover, Joanne grabbed him and gave him a kiss.

     “Be good for Uncle Johnny.”

     “Mom, you already told me that about a hundred times.”

     “Now I’m telling you a hundred and one. Be good.”

     “I will be.”

     Joanne released her son and allowed him to scramble into the vehicle. John threw his G.I. Joe backpack into the rear seat, then shrugged out of his school backpack. He tossed that into the rear seat along with his jacket, before climbing over the center console and settling into the passenger seat. He fastened his seatbelt, leaned back, looked at Johnny, grinned, and announced, “I’m ready!”

     Johnny flicked a thumb at John while looking at Joanne. “He’s ready.”

     “Heaven forbid you don’t hop to it when little Prince John has spoken.”

     Johnny didn’t see Joanne’s car anywhere. “Did you walk here?”

     “Yes.”

     The man reached for the handle on the rear door. “Climb in then. I’ll swing by the house and drop you off.”

     Joanne shook her head. “I think it’s best if you don’t today.”

     “Oh...oh, okay. Yeah, yeah sure,” Johnny agreed, though he wasn’t able to ignore the stab of hurt the woman’s words brought forth.  He didn’t want this situation with Chris coming between Roy and him, but it already was.

     “It’ll be all right, Johnny, I promise.  Just give Roy a few days to come to terms with all of this.”

     “Okay.”

     “I’ll see you tomorrow night about six-thirty?”

     “Yeah,” Johnny acknowledged of the approximate time he’d return John home. “See ya’ then.”

     The paramedic chief paused in the act of climbing into his vehicle.

     “Jo?”

     “Yes?”

     “Tell Roy...well tell Roy that I said I’m sorry. I wish...I wish this thing with Chris could have worked out the way he wanted it to.”

     “I don’t need to tell Roy that, because you’ll get the chance to tell him that yourself.”

     Johnny smiled his appreciation at the woman.  She was attempting to assure him that his and Roy’s friendship did have a future.

     “Okay. I’ll take your word on it.”

     “You’d better.  And if my word proves to be wrong, I’ll invite you for dinner next weekend, then leave you two alone in the living room to hash it out.”

     “That’s what I admire about you, Mrs. DeSoto,” Johnny grinned. “You’ve always got a trick up your sleeve.”

     “Or two. Or three. Or four,” the woman confessed with a laugh.  She stood back and allowed Johnny to get in his Land Rover, then bent forward and waved to her son. “Bye, sweetheart!”

     “Bye, Mom!”

     Johnny started the vehicle, checked for traffic, waited for Joanne to step onto the sidewalk, and then pulled away from the curb.  While Johnny headed for the McDonald’s that was a few blocks north of the school, Joanne headed in the opposite direction that led to her home.

__________________

     Roy was standing in front of his tool bench with his back to the open garage door.  He had a Tonka bulldozer upside down in his vice.  The thin metal rod that served as the vehicle’s front axel had snapped in half several months earlier.  Considering that Roy claimed John owned more Tonka trucks than any boy needed, and that Roy was tired of tripping over, then the fact that he was fixing the bulldozer indicated to Joanne her husband was desperate to occupy his mind with any concern other than Chris.

     Roy didn’t turn around when he said, “So, did you have a nice long talk with Johnny?”

     Joanne refused to rise to the bait.  “I talked to Johnny, if that’s what you’re asking.”

     “I figured as much. In all the years we’ve been raising kids, you’ve never once let any of them head to school without what they needed for the day.”

     “Well, there’s always a first time for everything.”

     Roy’s eyes slid to his wife as she came to stand beside him.

     “I don’t believe that, anymore than I believe John doesn’t know how he broke the axel on this truck.”

     “Are you saying that I stretch the truth like your youngest son has been known to do on occasion?”

     “That’s what I’m saying.”

     Joanne shot her husband a sly smile. “Now you know where John comes by his skills.”

     Roy tightened his lips into a firm line in an attempt to keep from smiling back at his wife. The woman took advantage of the light moment.

     “Johnny wanted me to tell you that he’s sorry.”

     “He should be. The only reason I let John go with Johnny today, is because it’s not fair to punish John for Johnny’s screw up.”

     “Roy, he’s not apologizing for being the messenger, if that’s what you mean by ‘Johnny’s screw-up.’  Johnny’s extending his sympathy because he knows how much you wanted Chris to get a college degree.”

     “He was more than the messenger.”

     “What’s that supposed to mean?”

     Roy unplugged his soldering gun and laid it on a piece of tin to cool.  He picked up a clean rag and wiped his hands while turning to face his wife.

     “It means he influenced Chris.”

     Joanne put her hands on her hips. She gave her husband the look their children recognized as ‘Mom knows I’m offering her a line of baloney.’  “Influenced Chris how?”

     “I...I...he just did.”

     “What you were going to say is, ‘I don’t know,’ weren’t you?”

     “No, that wasn’t what I was going to say.  I just...look, Jo, I have a lot on my mind.”

     The woman caught Roy’s elbow before he could turn away from her.

     “Honey, I know you do.  But refusing to talk to me, and doing nothing but yelling at Chris, isn’t going to help.”

     Roy hesitated a long moment before raking a hand through his hair.  He sighed with frustration and sat down on an old kitchen stool he kept next to his workbench. 

     “It’s just that I wanted him to finish college, Jo. I wanted him to get that degree.”

     “I know you did, and for your sake, I’m sorry Chris has made other choices.”

     “For my sake? What about for yours? Do you really want your oldest son to join the fire department?”

     “No.  No more than I want my daughter to, or my youngest son to.  But, Roy, we have to let the kids make their own decisions where their careers are concerned, just like you had the freedom to make your own decision where your career is concerned.”

     “Now you sound like Johnny.”

     “Then maybe you should listen to both me and Johnny.”

     “This is the first time I’ve ever heard you encourage me to take John Gage’s advice.”

     Joanne chuckled. “That’s because this time he’s not advising you to go in on some outlandish business venture with him, or to bring home Mike Stoker’s spaghetti recipe.”  The woman pulled up a step stool and sat down across from her husband. “Roy, you can’t blame Johnny for this.”   

     “He should have told me.”

     “Told you what?”

     “That Chris wanted to join the department.”

     “He tried to tell you. Or at least, he tried to help Chris tell you.”

     Roy scowled. “When?”

     “You know perfectly well when.  Just a month or two after Chris started his senior year of high school.”

     “I don’t remember that.”

     “Then you’ve chosen not to, because you told both Chris and Johnny on that day that the subject of Chris becoming a paramedic was closed.”

     “Well, it was. And it should have stayed that way.”

     “You can’t keep Chris a boy forever. You’ve got to let him grow up, Roy.”

     “I have let him grow up.”

     “Part of letting Chris grow up is respecting the decisions he makes for his life.” 

     “But--”

     Joanne leaned forward and placed her hands atop Roy’s.  “Roy, in so many ways, we’re very lucky.  Chris never gave us any problems.  He’s been a good kid and has made wise choices, don’t you agree?”

     Roy gave a reluctant nod of his head. Unlike a lot of kids, Chris hadn’t experimented with drugs, and had waited until he was out of high school to try his first beer. Even at that, Chris hadn’t developed much of a taste for alcohol, and while a lot of his college classmates spent their weekends at parties where the booze flowed like water from an open tap, that lifestyle held no interest for Chris. 

     “Jo, I’m proud of Chris,” Roy said quietly. “I really am. It’s just that...I just wanted him to have an easier life than I did when I was his age.  I wanted him to take advantage of the opportunities I didn’t have.  I know Chris will do well in the department. I know he’ll make an outstanding paramedic.  It’s just that...”

     “You’re worried about him - about his safety.”

     Roy closed his eyes for a brief second and then nodded.  When he opened his eyes he said, “The job has risks. High risks.  I know that for all the dangers we face, we do generally walk away injury free. But that doesn’t take away from the fact that firefighting is a dangerous profession.  It doesn’t take away from the fact that the men doing it risk serious injury, and sometimes death.”

     Joanne silently acknowledged the truth to her husband’s words. Two years earlier four Los Angeles County firefighters had been killed when a burning building collapsed on them. Aside from that tragedy, Joanne recalled other times when men had died since Roy had joined the department seventeen years earlier, or when a seemingly non-eventful call took a life-threatening turn – like the time Johnny had been hit by that car after a late night summons to a bar.      

     “Roy, as a firefighter’s wife, believe me, I know the job has risks. But on the other hand, we put our children at risk every time we allow them to walk out of the front door. No matter what the circumstances, it’s never easy letting go, is it?”

     “No...no, it’s not.” Roy turned his hands so he was now encasing Joanne’s in his. He gave a gentle squeeze. “I’m gonna do my best to clear the air with Chris when he gets home tonight. I...I’m still angry...disappointed...and I suppose I will be for a while yet.  Maybe for a good long while.  But Johnny told me something that I... well, that I know I need to keep in mind.”

     “What was that?”

     “That I love Chris too much to risk a permanent break in my relationship with him. And that...and that it’s hell when you can’t hug your child any more.”

     Joanne spoke around the lump that suddenly took up residence in her throat for the child that had been so cruelly taken from Johnny.  “Unfortunately, Johnny is speaking from experience.”

     “I know.”

     “So, do you forgive Johnny, too?”

     “I’m still not happy with him.”

     “I realize that.”

     “Johnny should have told me about this when Chris confided in him a couple of months ago.”

     “Don’t you think Chris was wrong to do that?”

     “What do you mean?”

     “Don’t you think that one act on Chris’s part, put Johnny in the middle between you and Chris?”

     “I suppose, but still, Johnny should have told me.”

     “Roy--”

     “Johnny and I have been friends a long time, Jo. He should have told me.  If our positions were reversed and Chris was Johnny’s son, I would have told Johnny.”

     “Maybe you would have, and maybe you wouldn’t have. That’s a rather difficult prediction to make, wouldn’t you say?”

     “No. I know I would have told Johnny.  Johnny knew how much I didn’t want Chris joining the department.  He knew how much I wanted Chris to finish college. If I had known about all of this in November, maybe I couldn’t have talked Chris out of...”

     Joanne didn’t pay attention to the remainder of what Roy had to say.  Her husband had his faults, just like anyone did.  And one of those faults was that Roy could be set in his ways, and firm in his beliefs of just what he would or wouldn’t do in any given situation, regardless of whether or not that situation had ever arisen before.  She knew it was going to take Roy a while to fully forgive Johnny for what Roy saw as a betrayal of their friendship. Yet Joanne also knew that Roy eventually would forgive Johnny, and though he might never admit it, he’d also come to realize he was wrong in blaming Johnny for the decision Chris had made.

     The woman stood, and urged her husband to his feet as well. She gave him a little push toward the door.

     “Go on.”

     “Go on where?”

     “Go in the house and get cleaned up. Then I’m treating you to lunch.”

     “I won’t argue that. With Chris no longer in college, there’s no need to worry about budgeting for things like lunch out with my wife.”

     “No, there isn’t,” Joanne said, while keeping her tone light to counterbalance Roy’s forlorn one. “Now go on so we can hurry home for dessert.  And I don’t mean of the milk and cookie variety, either.”

     That got a small laugh out of the captain.  Roy pulled the woman into his arms and kissed her. When their lips parted, he whispered, “God, Jo, I don’t know what I’d do without you.  You get me through all of the bad times.”

      “Just like you get me through them,” the woman said. She rested her head on her husband’s shoulder for a minute, then once again urged him to go in the house and clean up.

     When Roy came out wearing a fresh shirt, Joanne was waiting for him in the passenger seat of the Porsche.

     Just like Joanne knew how to get Roy through the bad times, she also knew what car he liked to drive when he was feeling blue.

     The wind ruffled the couple’s hair as Roy drove toward the restaurant Joanne suggested.  For the next few hours, disappointments with a son, and a best friend, would be pushed to the back of Roy’s mind, in favor of spending time alone with the girl who had first caught his eye in the fourth grade.

Chapter 8

     It was ten forty-five on Saturday morning as Heather dried each dish her mother handed her. It was a tradition before a Saturday afternoon show, for the Langford family to share a large and leisurely meal at nine-thirty.  The meal had included pancakes, bacon, scrambled eggs, toast, coffee cake, and oranges, and would serve as both breakfast and lunch until they gathered together again in the evening.  Heather’s father had promised they’d go out for dinner tonight, and then go see a movie. On Sunday, the ritual of a late breakfast would repeat itself, followed by an afternoon performance, and then followed by tear-down work that would last late into the night as the circus troupe prepared to move south to San Diego.

     Jay had completed his chores of clearing the table and emptying the family’s garbage cans into a Dumpster. He was now seated on the couch watching cartoons.  Unlike most Saturdays while she was drying dishes, Heather paid no attention to the images flickering on the screen. Nor did the girl pay any attention to her mother’s chatter about Marie Russell’s ten-month-old twin daughters.  Heather loved babies, and had sat with the Russell twins a couple of times when Marie and her husband, Jessup, one of the tumblers, went out after a performance, but right now all she could think of was Samara. Heather worried about what would happen to the elephant if she didn’t perform this afternoon.  She didn’t care what happened to Bhagi.  She hoped Mr. Benton fired him yet, and got a new elephant trainer.  But Samara...it wasn’t fair that she was being punished for Bhagi’s actions.

     Had Heather’s mind not been mired with concern for her friend, she might have noticed the door slam.  And if she had, she would have known something was wrong, because her father never slammed the door. It was a rare occurrence when he wasn’t whistling as he entered the trailer, too, but this morning no off-key tune accompanied Pat Langford as he stepped into his home.

     “Heather.”

     When the girl didn’t immediately turn around, her father hailed her again in a louder and sterner voice.

     “Heather!”

     Heather placed the plate she was drying in a cabinet and turned. Her expression was open and inviting, until she got one look at her father’s face.  His expression didn’t mirror hers.  Instead, a deep scowl furrowed his brow and caused the corners of his mouth to turn downward.

     “Heather, Bhagi came looking for me in Clown Alley a few minutes ago.”

     Clown Alley was circus vernacular for the clowns’ dressing area. Heather’s father had gone there to make sure his costume and make-up were in order for the afternoon show.

     Heather swallowed hard, but didn’t answer her father.

     “Do you know why he wanted to see me?”

     “N...no.”

     “Oh, but I think you do, young lady. I told you to stay away from Bhagi. I told you to mind your own business.”

     Lynette wiped her hands on a dishtowel and turned around so she was facing her husband.  “Pat--”         

     The man held up a hand to silence his wife. She usually handled the disciplining of the children, but today he’d handle things. Heather had crossed the line when she’d interfered in circus business.

     “Heather, what do you have to say for yourself?”

     “Dad, he was beating Samara after the show last night. Just ask Kristof.  Bhagi--”

     “I don’t need to ask Kristof. Bhagi is the elephant trainer, not Kristof, and most certainly not you.”

     “But Samara’s my friend. She--”

     Jay kept his eyes on the T.V. set as he snickered and taunted, “Elephant Girl.”

     Heather whipped around.  “Shut up, Jay!  Just shut up!”

     Before Heather knew what was happening, her father grabbed her by the elbow, turned her sideways, and placed one sound ‘whack’ on the seat of her blue jeans with his open palm.

     Though it was by far not much of a spanking, that one whack hurt Heather more than any words could have.  It showed her father’s lack of respect for her concerns over Samara.  It showed that he was willing to put the circus before his daughter.  As far as Heather was concerned, the man she’d always thought of as so different from many other circus men because he came home to his family after a show and didn’t hang out with the other guys playing cards or drinking, was just like them after all. He didn’t understand.  He didn’t have compassion for an animal that had no voice, and therefore had no way to stand up for herself, or to escape the wretched life she was being forced to live.  He didn’t have enough respect for Heather’s worries to help her figure out what to do for Samara.

     “That’s enough, Heather!  That’s enough of all of this, do you understand?  You stay away from Bhagi and his elephants, or the next spanking you get from me will leave you standing for a week. And as for tonight when the rest of us go out for dinner, you’ll stay here in the trailer by yourself.”

     “I don’t care!  I wanna be by myself anyway!” Tears flowed down Heather’s cheeks as she ran for the door. “I don’t want to be with any of you if you can’t understand how much Samara means to me!  If you can’t understand that what Bhagi is doing to her is wrong!”

     Heather heard her mother calling her, but she kept on running.  She flew down the steps and across the big yard where the trailers were parked. She didn’t stop running until she plowed into something solid.  When she stepped back and looked up through her tears, Heather saw she’d run right into Kristof.

     The lion tamer pulled the girl to his chest. He had seen Bhagi talking to Pat, and could easily guess what had just transpired in the Langford trailer.  He smoothed a hand over the girl’s hair.

     “It is okay, little one,” he murmured in his soft, Hungarian accent. “It is okay.”

     “Oh, Kristof, they just don’t understand.  They don’t understand that the way Samara is acting isn’t her fault.”

     “I know. Sometimes people see only what they want to see, Heather.”

     The girl stepped away from the man and self-consciously swiped at her tears and her runny nose. “If there’s something I can do for Samara...if I can think of some way to change things for her, would you help me?”

     Heather knew she was asking a lot of Kristof.  She knew he could lose his job for interfering with any aspect of Jack Benton’s circus, but she also knew Kristof was kind-hearted and treated all animals with love and respect.  He had a special rapport with his lions in the same way Heather had a special rapport with Bahgi’s elephants.

     “How will you change things, little one?”

     “I don’t know yet. But if I can, will you help?”

     “Heather--”

     “Kristof, please.  We might be Samara’s only chance at...well, at something better. I’d ask my dad to help, only there’s no way he will now.  He won’t listen to me, and he told me I have to stay away from Samara.”

     Kristof looked around.  Maybe he would have told Heather there was nothing he could do, if he hadn’t caught sight of Samara chained up fifty yards away.  She was watching Heather with mournful eyes, as though Samara knew she was the source of Heather’s heartache. And yet, there was love in the pachyderm’s eyes, too, as though she recognized the bond she shared with the girl as being one of deep and longstanding friendship.

     Kristof put a hand on Heather’s back. “Come on.”

     “Where are we going?”

     “I have a newspaper article in my trailer I want to give you.”

     “A newspaper article?”

     “Yes. You read it, and then what you do from there, you do.  I know nothing of it, and if anyone asks where you got the article from, you do not say my name. Do we have an understanding?”

     “Sure,” Heather agreed, “we have an understanding,” though she had no idea how a newspaper article could help Samara.

      Ten minutes later, Heather emerged from Kristof’s trailer with a newspaper clipping neatly folded and tucked in a back pocket of her jeans. Heather knew she could get in a lot of trouble for what she was about to do, and that her father could even lose his job over it, but on the other hand, Heather’s father had also taught her that when you saw a wrong you had to try and right it. She was Samara’s friend, and to Heather, friendship ran deep, whether it was friendship shared with a human, or with an animal.  If Heather’s friend Michelle was being beaten, Heather would try and get Michelle help, so it only stood to reason that she should try and get Samara help as well.

     The girl ran for the payphone out in the parking lot. She couldn’t risk using any phone on the circus grounds. She pulled money that she’d earned doing Cherry Pie work – extra jobs around the circus that Mr. Benton paid kids to take care of - from a front pocket of her jeans. She separated the single dollar bills from the coins, and stuffed the singles into her pocket again. Heather retrieved the newspaper article out of her back pocket, unfolded it, and scanned it for the phone number it contained while she dropped the necessary coins into the phone’s slots. The girl counted four rings before the phone on the other end was picked up.  A pleasant sounding woman queried, “Hello?”

     Heather almost chickened out and broke the connection. Her eyes darted about, but there was no one around to see her.  Still, she would have lost her resolve and hung up the phone had she not heard the pleasant voice again.  A voice that sounded like it belonged to a person who loved animals.

     “Hello? May I help you?”

     “Uh...I...uh...”

     “Yes? Is there something I can help you with?”

     There it was again, just what Heather needed - an offer to help.

     “I...I...I’m calling from the Benton Brothers Circus, and I...my friend...my friend Samara needs your help.”

Chapter 9

     If John DeSoto could have turned his head all the way around, he would have. The boy held onto his uncle Johnny’s hand while they walked down the midway.  John’s eyes were wide over the multitude of unfamiliar sights that were begging for his attention.  Pitchmen called out from concession stands trying to sell popcorn, peanuts, cotton candy, taffy apples, balloons, cheaply crafted jewelry, plastic toys, and circus memorabilia, to the passersby.

     John laughed when two midgets dressed as clowns raced through the crowd four times.  The man in the lead was fleeing from the man behind, who was carrying a blow-up hammer. 

     “I’ll get you!  I’ll get you, ya’ no good clown!”

     The fourth time the act appeared the first midget was missing.  The midget with the hammer stopped in front of John.

     “Have you seen that no good clown, young man?”

     John shook his head. “No.”

     “Are you sure?”

     The boy could barely get out his, “Yes,” in-between a burst of giggles.

     The midget walked in circles around Johnny and John. “You’re not hiding him on me, are you?”

     John laughed again.  “No.”

     Suddenly, the other midget popped out from behind the cotton candy stand.

     “I’m over here, ya’ stupid boob!”

     “Don’t you call me a stupid boob!”

     “I just did.  So, stupid boob, whatta ya’ gonna do about it?”

     “I’m gonna bean you a good one, that’s what I’m gonna do!”

     “Only if you can catch me!”

     The two men took off running again, much to the delight of the crowd, and most especially, to young John.  He looked up at Johnny.

     “Those guys were pretty funny, huh, Uncle Johnny?”

     “They sure were.”

     “Were they munchkins?”

     “They were midgets, John. Munchkins aren’t real. That was just a name used in the Wizard of Oz.  Midgets played the roles of the munchkins.”

     The boy’s eyebrows knit together with puzzlement. He wasn’t sure he understood the difference, but he’d try and remember to ask Uncle Johnny about it later. Right now, there were too many interesting things to see, and too many enticing smells beckoning to a boy who had eaten only half of his peanut butter and jelly sandwich at noon before deciding he’d had enough.  At home, his mother would have made him finish the other half, but Uncle Johnny didn’t make a kid do things he didn’t want to.  There were too many fun things to do at Uncle Johnny’s to worry about eating.  Things like riding horses, and playing with Uncle Johnny’s malamute, Joe, and playing with the barn cats, and helping Uncle Johnny feed the animals, and helping him change the oil and filter in his Land Rover.

     John pointed to a booth. “Uncle Johnny, can I have a hotdog please?”

     “Sure, Little Pally.”

     Johnny bought a hotdog for himself and John, and then bought them each a Coke.  He stopped at another booth and let John pick out two toys, all the while aware that he was doing exactly what Roy had told him not to. Not that Roy would have expected anything else from Johnny, but Johnny supposed if he were wise, he wouldn’t make Roy any angrier than he already was.

     Oh well, too late now.  Besides, whoever heard of goin’ to the circus and not getting something to eat while you’re here, or not bringing home a souvenir?

     Although each of the DeSoto children had his or her own individual and distinct personality, there were some traits they shared that indicated they were from the same family – like their manners.  Without being prompted to do so, John thanked Johnny for the food and presents.  They ate while they walked, and once they threw their empty soda containers and hot dog wrappers in a garbage barrel, John pulled his toys out of the little bag the woman had put them in.  He’d picked out a circus wagon that had horses harnessed to it.  Inside the wagon were three tigers. The other toy was a plastic elephant that had caught John’s eye because of the jewels it was wearing on its feet that matched the jewels encrusted on the hat on its head. 

     “Do elephants dress up like this, Uncle Johnny?”

     Johnny looked down at the toy. “When they’re in the ring they do.”

     “Have you ever been to a circus before?”

     “Yep.”

     “When?”

     “The first time, when I was eight.  My parents took my sister and me to a circus that was held not far from where we lived. And then about ten years ago, I brought your brother and sister to this circus.”

     “But last night you told me that a circus travels from town to town.”

     “It does.  This circus...the Benton Brothers Circus, comes here at this time every year.”

     “Oh.  Well, we should come more often then.”

     Johnny chuckled at the boy’s wording. It was obvious that John spent his time in a household of people much older than himself.

     “After tomorrow’s performance the circus will move on to another city, John.  But maybe we can come next year when the circus is back.”

     “That could be my birthday present again.”

     “You’d better wait to decide about that until you’ve seen all the circus has to offer.  So far, you’ve only seen a little bit.”

     “Yeah, but what I’ve seen, I’ve liked.”

     Johnny chuckled again while pausing to give his tickets to the young woman in the booth outside of the Big Top. He and John followed the slow moving line into the tent.  As they ambled along, Johnny read the program the ticket taker had handed him.  Aside from glossy pictures of animals and people performing, it included a brief history of the Benton Brothers Circus, along with a smattering of other facts. 

     John looked up, up, up, his mouth dropping open when his eyes finally caught sight of the peak of the tent.

     “Wow, this is so tall! And big, too. It’s like a million times bigger than my house.”

     “Yep, it’s bigger than your house all right.  It says here that the tent is forty-seven feet tall and one hundred and thirty-seven feet around.”

     “Is that giant size?”

     “That’s giant size,” Johnny confirmed.  “And it holds two thousand people.”

     “Boy, that’s sure is a lot of people, huh, Uncle Johnny.”

     “It sure is.” Johnny strained to see over the heads in front of him. “And I think they all got here before we did, John.”

     Johnny asked John to put his toys back in their bag, then took the boy by his free hand. The way the people were packed into the tent meant that it would be easy to lose sight of a six-year-old, who could slip through legs and be gone from view within seconds.

     “Uncle Johnny, can we sit wherever I pick?”

     “Sure.”  Johnny looked at the rows upon rows of wooden bleachers that encircled the interior of the tent. The only thing that separated the bleachers, were the aisles that led to the exits.  “Where’re you gonna pick?”

     “Right in the middle. That’ll be the best spot in the house.”

     “You think so, huh?”

     “Yep. ‘Cause one time when me and my daddy went to the movies we got there late and had to sit in the front row.  That’s when I learned the front row is a crummy spot ‘cause you’re too close to the screen.  And one time when we went to watch Jennifer cheer at a basketball game, I asked my mom if we could sit at the very top of the bleachers.  That’s when I learned that’s a crummy spot, too, ‘cause you’re far away and the popcorn guy doesn’t like to climb up that high.  So now matter what, Uncle Johnny, the middle is always perfect.  You can see good, and the popcorn guy comes to you.”

     “Well, those sound like good reasons to choose the middle to me.  If there’re still places in the middle by the time it’s our turn to take our seats, then that’s where we’ll sit.”

     “Neato!”

     As Johnny had learned years ago when taking Chris and Jennifer on outings, it didn’t take much to make a six-year-old happy.  A hotdog, a soda, a couple of three-dollar toys, and permission to sit in the middle of the bleachers was enough to make John DeSoto’s day at the circus complete – and the circus hadn’t even started yet.

     Johnny didn’t let go of John’s hand until ten minutes later when they were climbing the center stairway that took them to the middle row of a set of bleachers. John scooted all the way over until he could lean against the metal railing that was attached to the side of the bleachers to keep anyone from falling off. He opened a wide kangaroo pocket on the leg of his camouflage trousers, rolled his bag up, and shoved it inside.  He looked up at Johnny as he buttoned the pocket shut.

     “Good thing I wore my G.I. Joe pants today, huh, Uncle Johnny.”

     “Yep,” Johnny agreed, glad that John had a place to put his bag of toys, which meant Johnny wouldn’t be asked to hang onto it. “Good thing.”

     “Is the show gonna start soon?”

     Johnny looked at his watch.  “In a little while.”

     John rested one hand on the railing next to him. He looked up, down, and around, and never quit grinning the whole time he waited for the performance to begin.

Chapter 10

     Roy DeSoto entered Station 26’s kitchen and poured himself a fresh cup of coffee. His men were gathered around the table playing cards.

Don McWinters glanced up. “Wanna join us, Cap?” 

     When Roy didn’t answer, the man asked again, “Cap, wanna join us?”

     “Huh?” Roy turned around to see five faces looking at him.  He knew he’d been reserved today, and even quieter than what was normal for him. However, Roy also knew he hadn’t taken his personal problems out on his crew, so overall, they were none the wiser as to the reasons behind his mood. “Sorry, Mac, I was...my mind was somewhere else.  What did you say?”

     “Just asked if you wanted to play a hand with us.”

     “Oh. Uh...no.  No thanks.  I’ve got paperwork to do in my office.”

     “Okay. Well, come out and join us when you’re done.”

     “Yeah...sure. I will. Thanks.”

     Roy walked through the apparatus bay and into his office. He shut the door, then crossed to his desk.  He sat the coffee mug that read, #1 Dad, onto a coaster. 

Roy eased into his leather chair with a heavy sigh. He ran his fingers over the bold, black letters on his mug, and recalled the Father’s Day nine years earlier when Chris and Jennifer had given it to him.  They’d been so proud, because they’d saved their allowances and then pooled their money in order to buy it.  He wished it were as easy now to be a ‘number one dad’ to his teenagers, as it had been when they were younger. If he wasn’t arguing with Jennifer over some piece of clothing she had on that he didn’t approve of, then he was arguing with her over Brad Hall. And as far as Chris went...well, some harsh words had been exchanged over the past twenty-four hours, but if nothing else, Roy had John Gage to thank for the fact that he still had a relationship with his son. 

It was the recollection of Johnny’s words in reference to little Jessie that forced Roy to proceed with caution when speaking with Chris. That didn’t mean there hadn’t been some yelling on Roy’s part, but it did mean he hadn’t said or done anything he now regretted. And late last night, long after Joanne had gone to bed, Roy had been waiting up for Chris when the teen arrived home from his date with Wendy Adams. Father and son had made a peace of sorts at that time, or at the very least, declared a truce.  In a quiet voice that fit the dim lighting in the living room, and the darkness prevailing throughout the rest of the house, Roy had expressed his disappointment one final time over Chris’s decision to drop out of college.

“Dad, I know,” Chris had said, copying the same soft tone his father had adapted. The young man sat down in the recliner adjacent to Roy’s and leaned forward with an earnest expression on his face.  “I’m sorry. I wish I could do what you want me to, but I can’t.  I just can’t.  I’m not happy, Dad.”

“And you’ll be happy being a paramedic?”

“Yes.”

“You’re certain?”

“As certain as I can be at this point. I...I’ve been taking EMT classes since August.”

“Where?”

“At Hartford Tech.”

Roy had absorbed that information before asking, “How are you doing?”

Chris couldn’t keep the smile off his face. “Pulling straight A’s.”

“I see. I...that’s great, Chris.  That’s...that’s great.”

     It was at that moment when Roy knew Chris had indeed found the career he wanted to pursue. The smile and the grades said it all, and Roy had no choice but to accept his son’s decision. All he had wanted was for Chris to succeed in a career that brought him happiness and fulfillment.  Though a career with the fire department still wasn’t what Roy preferred for his oldest son, he knew there was little point to further arguments.

     The conversation had shifted then.  It was the first one Roy and Chris had about the fire department that didn’t involve yelling. Chris gave his father the details about when his paramedic training would begin, and Roy listened without interruption.  When Chris was finished, Roy said simply, “I know you’ll do well.  I have no doubt about that,” which was as close as Roy could come to saying, “I’m proud of you, Chris,” considering the circumstances, and the fact that it was going to take Roy a while to get over his disappointment.                       

     Chris had gone to bed shortly after that. He’d briefly laid a hand on Roy’s shoulder as he passed him, and gave a small squeeze.  It was a gesture that seemed too grown up for Chris, but then Roy was forced to admit that Chris was grown up, and that just like Roy at the age of nineteen, Chris had to be allowed to live his life as he saw fit. 

     My mother was right, Roy had thought as he listened to his son’s footsteps recede down the hallway.  It doesn’t get any easier after they turn eighteen.  You worry about your kids just as much as you did when they were small.  Only now, the worries are different because you have no control over their actions, and no right to open your mouth and tell them what to do or what not to do.

     As he drove to work this morning, Roy had steeled himself for his arrival at the station. He hadn’t posted the list of incoming rookies before going off duty on Friday morning. Instead, he’d left the paper Johnny had brought him in his middle desk drawer with the knowledge that B-shift’s captain would find it and put it on the bulletin board. 

Just like Roy could have predicted, when he arrived his men were gathered around the list.  He received verbal congratulations and a few pats on the back from his crew, as well as from the men of B-shift, who were about to go off duty.  Roy smiled and said “Thanks,” just like he knew was expected of him. When Mac asked him why he’d kept Chris’s entry into the department’s paramedic program a secret, Roy had shrugged and said, “I don’t know I...I just didn’t think to mention it.”  If any of the men found that comment to be odd, they didn’t have time to dwell on it. The tones sounded, summoning Station 26 to an accident at a construction site before Roy had the chance to take roll call.

Roy had stayed in his office as much as possible since then.  He and his crew would have forty-eight hours off at the end of this shift.  By the time they gathered together again, Roy knew he’d be able to act more like his old self. But for today, the pain Chris’s decision had caused him was still too great, and he preferred to be alone as much as possible. He didn’t want to field any more questions about Chris’s entry into the department, nor did he want to accept further congratulations and be forced to pretend he was a happy about his son’s choice, when what he really wanted to say to anyone who inquired was, “I wish he hadn’t dropped out of college. I wanted him to earn a degree.  I didn’t want him to spend his life inhaling smoke, dealing with a bad back from years of lifting patients, and being woken up from a sound sleep at two in the morning, only to stand out in a driving rain and slosh through cold, waist-high muck while looking for the victims of a mud slide.”

The captain glanced at the digital clock on his desk.  By now, Johnny was at the circus with John.  Roy sighed, then took a long sip of hot coffee.  He sat the mug back on the coaster.  It was only fitting that the fire engine shaped coaster had been a gift from John the previous Father’s Day.  In that respect, it perfectly complemented the mug that had come from Chris and Jennifer so many years before. 

Roy mulled over how he was going to handle things with his best friend.  It wasn’t going to be as easy as having a quiet talk and calling a truce, as he’d done with Chris.  He wasn’t ready for a truce with Johnny yet, because Roy wasn’t confident enough about where he stood on the issue.  Was Johnny wrong to have kept his knowledge of Chris’s decision from Roy, or as Joanne had said, was Johnny merely the messenger who got caught in the middle the day Chris confided in him?  Regardless, it was still hard for Roy to reconcile that Johnny hadn’t come to him...that his best friend hadn’t told him about something this important.  Despite Joanne’s questions of Roy in this regard, the captain knew without a doubt he wouldn’t have kept such a thing from Johnny had their positions been reversed.  He couldn’t imagine his loyalties to a son of Johnny’s, overruling his loyalties to Johnny. Roy never gave it a thought that he couldn’t imagine this scenario, because he wasn’t putting himself in Johnny’s place, and trying to feel what it was like to be close to your friend’s children – to have watched them grow up and be a large part of their lives.  It wouldn’t be until years later, when Roy met a boy named Trevor Gage; that he came to have a clear understanding of just how Chris had put Johnny in the middle - of just how difficult that position must have been for Johnny, and of just how close you could grow to your best friend’s child.

But on this day in 1985, Roy didn’t have the ability to put himself in Johnny’s place, so his anger stewed and simmered. Roy knew the friendship he and Johnny shared was too strong to be destroyed over this issue, but he also knew it was going to be a while before he was ready to extend the proverbial olive branch.   

I suppose if I don’t make peace with Johnny in a few days Joanne will do something sneaky, like invite him dinner. I think I’ll tell her that I’ll let her know when I’m ready to invite him to dinner, and that he’d better not show up at our table before then.

Roy turned in his chair and looked up at the pictures on his shelf. He stared at the high school graduation portrait of Chris.  He was proud of his son and wanted the best for him, whatever ‘the best’ encompassed. Even, Roy supposed, if it didn’t encompass what he had planned for Chris. 

The man’s eyes flicked to the photo of himself and John Gage.  He couldn’t help but smile a little, despite his anger.  If Chris ended up with a partner half as good as Johnny had been, then he was going to be a lucky man, and many of Roy’s worries regarding Chris’s safety would be laid to rest. 

Before Roy could linger on his concerns any longer, the tones sounded.  He dashed for the apparatus bay, almost thankful for the traffic accident that would take his mind off of his troubles for a while.

Chapter 11

     Heather hadn’t gone back to her family’s trailer after making the phone call, until she knew her father would be in Clown Alley.  Either her timing was off, or he had waited as long as possible for her return, because just as Heather lifted a foot toward the first stair, the door opened and her father emerged

     The girl’s eyes dropped to the ground.  The steps leading into the Airstream were too narrow for her to brush past her dad.  She was forced to remain where she was until he stepped down. He laid a hand on her arm.

     “Heather--”

     The twelve-year-old refused to make eye contact.

     “Honey, you know I don’t like to be stern with you or Jay.  That’s your mother’s territory, not mine.  I hope you understand why it was necessary this time.”

     The girl’s eyes darted to her dad’s face.  “I...I’ll understand, Daddy, if only you’ll understand, too.”

     “Understand what?”

     “How I feel about Samara. Why I’m certain that what Bhagi is doing to her is wrong. I know I’m only twelve, and I know I’m not the elephant trainer, but I know right from wrong, Dad.” Heather locked gazes with her father as she stated firmly, “You’re the one who taught me right from wrong.”

     Pat sighed. Right now he didn’t have time to debate the issue of Samara with Heather. 

     “Sweetheart, I think you and I need to go somewhere and talk.  This evening, after the show, how about if your dad treats you to dinner?”

     “I thought I was grounded.”

     “I’m making an exception in this case.”

     “What about Mom and Jay?  What about the movie and dinner the three of you were going to?”

     “Mom and Jay can go eat where they want to, and then go on to a movie.  You and I will go to dinner wherever it is you’d like to.”  Pat winked at his daughter. “As if I don’t know what restaurant you’ll choose.”

     Heather couldn’t help but give her father a small smile. If Jay had his choice, which he undoubtedly would tonight with Mom, he’d pick any place that served hamburgers – Burger King being his preference. As far as Heather was concerned, that wasn’t dinner.  Not a real dinner anyway.  She liked a place with linen napkins and a quiet atmosphere – not the sort of restaurant her parents normally took their children to, simply because of the cost of four meals.  There was a restaurant named Elegance that Heather had been to with her father two other times when they’d been in Los Angeles.  If the menu was lacking anything, Heather couldn’t imagine what it was, and there were candles on the tables, and dim lighting, and it was quiet, and most importantly, there were linen napkins. 

     “Elegance,” Heather stated.

     Pat nodded. “Yep, that’s just what I knew you’d say.”

     The man placed a palm on the back of his daughter’s neck and leaned forward to kiss her on the forehead. “Go inside and comb your hair and wash your face, then check with Diane to see how you can make yourself useful.”

     Diane was Jack Benton’s wife, and she generally assigned the Cherry Pie work to any kid or performer who had time to help out on show day.

     “Okay.”

     As Heather’s father started to walk away, the girl questioned, “Dad?”

     The man turned around. “Yeah?”

     “If I...no matter what I did...or do, you’ll always love me, right?  I mean, you’ve always told Jay and me that.  That a parent’s love is forever and ever, no matter what a kid does.”

     “That’s right. That’s what I’ve always told you, and yes, it’s true.”

     “And you’ve always said that the animals are like kids to their trainers, right? That Kristof loves his lions like he loves his little girl, and that Aleksander loves his tigers just like he loves his two little boys, and that Bhagi loves his elephants like he’d love kids if he had any.”

     “That’s true,” Pat acknowledged, happy to see that Heather finally understood that Bhagi did care for his animals. “The trainers love their animals as though those animals were there children, Heather.”

     Heather gave a sad shake of her head. “You’re wrong about Bhagi, Dad.  He doesn’t love Samara no matter what she does.”

     “Heather...”   

Heather ignored the warning tone in her father’s voice. “If he did, he wouldn’t beat her, Daddy.  He wouldn’t beat her until she was afraid of him. He wouldn’t beat her until she cried.  I just wanted you to know that.” 

Heather climbed the two steps and grasped the door handle. She looked down at her father before entering the trailer and said quietly, “It’s important that you know that.”

Pat watched his daughter enter their home.  He wasn’t certain if he should put stock in anything she said, or if, like Lynette had told him a little while ago, the recent emotions attached to Samara were probably nothing other than the unstable moods of a girl who was just beginning to enter puberty.  

The father sighed as he headed for Clown Alley.  If this was what being the parent of an adolescent girl was like, he dreaded the next six years. On the other hand, as he passed Bhagi’s elephants and heard Samara give a cry of fright when she saw the Indian come out of his trailer, Pat was forced to admit his daughter might be right. Maybe Bhagi’s methods weren’t the ones he should be using in order to gain cooperation from Sarama.

Pat shrugged as he picked up his pace. He had no time to worry about Bhagi and his elephants. Pat had to get ready for the performance, because no matter what concerns he might have at this moment, the show must go on.

Chapter 12

     If there was anything about the circus he didn’t like, John DeSoto couldn’t name it.  From the moment the show opened with the performers and their animals parading around the ring, to the tight ropewalker, to the lions that roared really loud, to the acrobats, to the tigers that jumped through flaming hoops, to the aerialists, to the bare back riders, to the bears riding bicycles, to the jugglers, to the trapeze artists, to the dancing elephants, to John’s favorites – the clowns, there wasn’t an act the boy didn’t watch with rapt attention. 

John’s eyes slid back and forth, back and forth, as he watched the trapeze artists swing overhead. He’s mouth gaped at the tight ropewalker.  He asked his uncle Johnny just how the jugglers kept so many balls in the air at once, but Uncle Johnny didn’t know, and John wondered just how the lady acrobat could bend over backwards that far.  Uncle Johnny seemed to wonder that too, because he was grinning when the lady did it, and didn’t seem to hear John’s question.

John laughed at the clowns each time they appeared, and like the rest of the audience, clapped and called them back when the clowns ran out. Sometimes they came back and started their antics all over again, and sometimes they didn’t come back because it was time for another act to begin. The circus band, whose members were seated in a stand of bleachers all their own across from Johnny and John, played each time the clowns appeared, and then put a halt to the music when the clowns left.

The only time John stopped smiling was for a few seconds when the elephants performed. One of the elephants just sat there and wouldn’t do what her trainer commanded.  At first the audience thought that was part of the act and laughed, but then people could sense the trainer was getting upset. The crowd quieted as the man tried to get the elephant to balance on one leg, but each time he moved toward her, she bellowed and backed away.

John had leaned into Johnny and asked, “How come she doesn’t wanna do anything?”

“I don’t know,” was all Johnny said, though by the way the elephant was acting, Johnny knew she was scared of her trainer. His long association with animals gave Johnny insight to the fact that if the animal was frightened of the man, then he had probably given her reason to be.

The trainer tried two other times to get the elephant to perform. Johnny saw the man throwing glances at the ringmaster, as though he was fearful of the ringmaster’s disapproval.  That made the trainer more aggressive with the elephant, which only caused the elephant to get more upset. Johnny tensed a bit, anticipating that something could go drastically wrong if the man didn’t back off. Fortunately, before that happened, the trainer turned away from the elephant and left her alone throughout the remainder of the act.  When the elephants marched out, the one that hadn’t wanted to perform lagged behind, as though she was dreading what would come next. 

Johnny watched until all four of the elephants and their trainer disappeared through a flap in the tent.  Any further thoughts he had regarding the elephant that wouldn’t perform, left him when the ringmaster spoke one last time and thanked those in attendance for being such a good audience.  He invited everyone back when the circus returned next year, then ran for an exit as the clowns appeared from all directions. The band started playing again as the audience stood and clapped. Clowns on bicycles chased one another around the rings, while clowns on mini-bikes raced back and forth from one end of the tent to the other.  Some clowns rode unicycles, while others shook hands with children in the audience. As the crowd slowly began to make their way out of the bleachers, clowns with squirt guns appeared and a water fight ensued. Next came the midget clowns John had seen before the show started, and a whole new round of antics began. 

Johnny estimated fifty clowns were in the tent entertaining as the audience filed out.  The band played while the crowd snaked down the bleachers and toward the only two exits being used for the general public. 

At this rate it’ll take us a good thirty minutes to get to the parking lot, Johnny thought as he took John by the hand again when they reached the center stairs. Good thing I told Joanne not to expect us before six-thirty.

Because of John’s chosen seating, Johnny and the boy were unable to move forward at a swift rate. They also had to deal with people stepping on their heels and bumping into them from behind.

Now I know why Roy always lets me bring his kids to the circus and doesn’t come along, too. 

Johnny was relieved when he and John were finally on the solid ground that made up the tent’s floor, but they were still moving at a turtle’s pace.  The fact that they were sandwiched between people and barely making progress toward the exit, didn’t bother John. He was content to watch the clowns and laugh at their antics, no matter how many times he saw one squirt the other with water, or saw the midgets run by while vowing to get each other.   

Between the clowns, the band, and the crowd, the noise in the tent was deafening.  Johnny had given up trying to hear what John said, because it required him to bend over and put his ear next to the boy’s mouth.  Considering how close Johnny was to the people behind him, bending down was next to impossible.  He settled for hanging onto John’s right hand and hoping every other adult who had come to the circus with a child was smart enough to do the same thing.

Trying to find a lost kid in this crowd would be hell.

Johnny smiled at the tow-headed girl in front of him. She was being carried by her father, and rested her chin on his shoulder.  Her eyelids drooped as though she’d missed her afternoon nap, which probably explained her lack of interest in the clowns.  Johnny estimated the child to be two years old, and her sister, who was hanging onto their mother’s hand, looked to be four or five.  Like John, the older girl’s attention was focused on the clown troupe.

As Johnny shuffled forward he craned to see the exit, but couldn’t spot it.  He didn’t remember the crowd being this large when he’d brought Chris and Jennifer to the circus, but he couldn’t recall if they’d come on a weekend, or on a weekday, when attendance would be lighter.

Maybe I’m just gettin’ old and starting to be more and more like my dad, Johnny thought, in reference to the fact that his father hated two things above all else – crowds, and standing in a line.

If it hadn’t been for the noise, Johnny would have realized trouble was brewing outside of the tent.  But because of the noise, Johnny didn’t hear the elephant being beaten, nor did he   hear Samara and her companions bolt from their trainer and stampede toward the tent.

The first indication Johnny had of impending disaster was when he felt a slight ground tremor.  He heard someone behind him cry, “Earthquake!” and though Johnny still wasn’t sure what was happening, he scooped John up and held him firmly between his chest and the crook of his left elbow.

The boy cast a puzzled glance at the paramedic. “Uncle Johnny, I want down!” John twisted in Johnny’s arms so he could see the center ring. “I can’t see the clowns as good from here.  I--”

Screams interrupted John. Johnny felt the crowd surge from behind. He was smashed into the family in front of him. The tremor changed to a rhythmic rumbling that sounded like the pounding of hundreds of horses’ hooves.  Johnny had no idea what was stampeding the tent, but one thing he did know, the crowd’s panic was only going to make things worse.  Before Johnny could urge everyone to calm down, the people behind him started running, leaving the paramedic no choice but to run, too. Johnny viewed the chaos in quick, brief segments as it flashed by him. People who hadn’t made it out of the bleachers yet spilled from them with total disregard to their own safety, or the safety of those they shoved aside when they got to the ground. The band members tossed their instruments, scrambled from their stand, and fled in all directions. The clowns followed suit, some of them hopping on the back of the mini-bikes for a quick escape.  A few clowns remained and tried to calm the crowd, but their voices couldn’t be heard over the din.

Johnny caught the word, “Elephants!” shouted from behind.  He knew then the source of the quaking ground. Hysterical people pushed past him, elbowing him in the ribs and causing him to stumble into the family in front of him again.  He held onto John as the boy screamed with fright. Whether John knew what was happening, or whether the crowd’s fear fueled the boy’s, Johnny wasn’t certain. 

“Hang onto me, John!” Johnny ordered. “Hang onto me!”

     “I wanna go home, Uncle Johnny!” The boy wrapped his arms around Johnny’s neck in a boa constrictor grip. “I wanna go home! Please!  I wanna go home now!”

     The little girl who had been holding her mother’s hand was knocked to her knees.  The woman lost her grip on the child as the crowd forced everyone to keep running.

     “Amanda!” The woman shrieked. “Amanda! Amanda!”

     Johnny grabbed the crying child under her armpit and swooped her up.  He thrust her into the mother’s reaching arms.  He barely had the girl handed off when someone shoved him out of the way.  Johnny stumbled again, but this time couldn’t regain his footing.  When he hit the ground all he could think of was the need to protect John.  He shoved the hysterical boy beneath his body and lay on top of him. No one attempted to help Johnny to his feet, as the panic-stricken crowd fled for any exit they could find.

     The paramedic cried out as his back was stomped on and he was kicked in the ribs. Had he not been holding John in his arms, Johnny would have used them to protect his head. Because of his inability to do that, the sharp steel toe of a man’s cowboy boot caught him in the back of the skull and tore open a patch of skin from the nape of his neck to the crown. 

Blood ran down Johnny’s neck, as the bellows of marauding elephants filled his ears.

Chapter 13

     Roy stood surveying the scene of the traffic accident Station 26 had been called     to, which wasn’t much of a traffic accident at all.  The driver of a late model Mercedes Benz had swerved to avoid a dog in this residential neighborhood. The car had jumped the curb, and then hit a postal collection box. There were no concerns regarding a fire, meaning the engine crew wasn’t needed. The driver allowed the paramedics to check him over, but refused treatment beyond their examination. The man insisted he was fine, and when the paramedics couldn’t find anything that negated his words, they had him sign the MICU form.

     The driver told Roy he was an oncologist at Harbor General, and was on his way to work. He assured Roy he would have someone in the emergency room look at him just as soon as he arrived.  He’d already used his car phone to call his wife and a tow truck.

     “I’m fine, Captain,” the doctor insisted a final time as a squad car pulled up to take the accident report. “Thanks for everything.”

     Roy had always been cautious about leaving a victim who had refused treatment, if no friend or family member was on the scene to get help if needed after the paramedics departed. However, the doctor appeared to be fine just like he’d stated, so now that a cop was present, Roy indicated to his men that it was time to return to the station.

     Captain DeSoto had just climbed into the passenger seat of the engine and made Station 26 available, when the tones sounded over the radio, then sounded again and again and again and again.  Roy glanced at his engineer, Don McWinters, who said, “Must be something big.”

     “Station 18, Station 26, Station 36, Station 42, Battalion 12, Squad 15, Squad 44, Squad 46.  Multiple injuries caused by rampaging elephants at the Barker Activity Grounds - 723 Barker and Vine.  7-2-3 Barker and Vine.  Proceed with caution. Repeat: multiple injuries caused by rampaging elephants at the Barker Activity Grounds. Proceed with caution.”        

     Mac cocked an eyebrow at his captain.  He and Roy had worked together out of Station 14 as rookies, and then had spent the next year working together at Station 78. When the rest of the crew wasn’t around, Captain DeSoto was ‘Roy’ to Mac.

“Rampaging elephants?” Mac snorted. “Now I’ve heard of everything.”

Roy tried to conceal his concern. “There’s a circus being held there today.”

The captain picked up the mike and acknowledged the call. He saw Brett slide the trauma box back into its slot, close the doors, and jump in the squad where his partner, Craig Iverson, waited behind the wheel. Brett flipped the switches for the squad’s lights and siren, as the vehicle pulled away from the curb.  Roy did the same on the engine, as Mac gave the air horn two long blasts before following the squad.

Mac’s eyes slid to Roy. He’d known the man too long not to pick up on the worry that was emanating from him.

“Roy, are you okay?”

“Yeah...yeah, I’m fine.”

“You don’t sound fine,” Mac said, while returning his eyes to the road.

“That...that circus?”

“Yeah?”

“Johnny took John there this afternoon.”

Mac was silent a moment, before stating firmly, “Johnny won’t let anything happen to your boy.”

Roy hesitated, then nodded. “I know.”

Roy’s hesitation wasn’t a result of any doubts he had where Mac’s words were concerned.  No, Johnny wouldn’t let anything happen to John...if he could help it. It was Roy’s own thoughts of ‘if he could help it’ that caused the father within the captain to worry.   

Roy pushed his concerns aside as best he could, while directing Mac to the grounds where the circus was being held. Mac knew where the grounds were located, but he didn’t tell Roy that.  He figured it was best if Roy had something to focus on other than the fates of his son and John Gage.

Chapter 14

Johnny wasn’t sure how many feet used him as step. Finally, a pair of hands grabbed Johnny’s arms, but his benefactor lost his grip as the frenzied mob forced the man onward.  Blood ran from Johnny’s nose now, and his lower lip was split. Feet had kicked the left side of his face, causing his eye to bruise and swell. Johnny knew he had to get out of the crowd’s path, but between his injuries and the running feet he couldn’t stand. He glanced to his right and spotted the bleachers.  Without letting go of the screaming John, he crawled for them, crying out when another foot caught him in the ribs.

     There was just enough space between the bottom bleacher and the ground for Johnny to slither through. He pushed John through first, then followed the child as someone stomped on his calves.

     Johnny panted for breath and hugged his ribs a brief moment. He ignored the blood running down his face, grabbed John with his left arm, and used his right elbow to inch them farther beneath the bleachers. When they reached the middle section and were beneath the area where they’d been seated, Johnny paused and held the crying boy close.

“It’s okay, John,” the paramedic soothed. “We’re okay now.”

     “I wanna go home, Uncle Johnny.” John buried his head in Johnny’s chest. “I wanna go home!”

     “I know.” Johnny turned to spit blood out of his mouth. He swiped at the remaining blood with his right arm, smearing it against the bare skin between his wrist and his elbow, where his shirtsleeve was rolled up and secured. “We’re gonna go home in a little while, kiddo.”

     Johnny eyed the tent wall thirty feet in front of them. He could hear sirens, meaning someone had called 911.  He looked through the space in-between the bleachers. People were still running past, but not nearly as many as before, which caused the paramedic to conclude that most of the crowd had dispersed. How many people might be lying injured in the tent, Johnny didn’t know.  He hoped he’d been the only one knocked down, and shuddered to think of the fate of any child who was trampled like he’d been.

     Thank God I was able to hang onto John.

     The sirens got louder and closer, and were joined by more and more sirens, which meant the police would soon have the scene secured. Johnny tightened his grip on John.

“John, we’re gonna head for the wall of the tent and crawl out underneath it, okay?”

     The boy pulled away from Johnny’s chest and gave four hiccoughed sobs in an effort to squelch his tears.

     “O...o...okay.  Then...then are we goin’ home?”

     “Yeah, then we’re goin’ home. We’ll get outta this tent and head for the parking lot.”

     John reached a tentative hand toward Johnny’s bloody face.

     “You’re hurt.”

     Despite the pain it caused him, Johnny gave the boy as much of a reassuring smile as he could manage considering his split lip.

“Nah. It’s just a little cut.”

     “But you’ve got blood all over your shirt, and you’ve got a black eye, and your nose is bleeding.”

     “Don’t worry about me, Little Pally. I’m fine.”

Johnny grimaced and fought back a cry of pain, as he pushed himself to a half-standing position while clinging to John’s hand.

     “Please let’s go to my house, Uncle Johnny,” the boy begged, trying not to cry again. “My mom will put Band-aids on for you. She’ll take care of you. I promise.”

     “I know she will.” Johnny assured.  He realized that right now, home represented safety to the six-year-old, which was why John was so adamant about going there.

Despite John’s wishes, Johnny knew he couldn’t trust himself to drive given his injuries, and especially not with John in the vehicle.  A series of long blasts from air horns told Johnny the fire department had arrived. Paramedics would be on the scene shortly, if they weren’t already. Johnny would get help for himself from one of the guys, then have a station captain or battalion chief contact headquarters. Someone there could call Joanne and ask her to come and retrieve John. However, those plans would have to wait until Johnny accomplished his first priority - getting John to safety.  

     Johnny could hear props, wood, and band instruments flying around the tent.  He didn’t have to see what was going on to know the elephants were tearing the structure apart with their trunks. Considering their combined weight was somewhere around thirty thousand pounds, Johnny knew they could do a lot of damage. Blood soaked the back of Johnny’s shirt and made it stick to his skin. The paramedic chief was light-headed and woozy, and when he swayed he was forced to grab a wooden bleacher plank above his head in order to stay on his feet. 

Johnny ignored the dizziness and pain washing over him, as the elephants’ rage spurred him forward.

“Come on, John,” he urged, while being careful not to let any fear creep into his voice.

     Johnny took as deep of a breath as his ribs would allow, coughed on blood he’d swallowed, and used the planks above his head to support him while he walked. He cried out as he took a step forward. Pain shot from his lower back all the way to his right heel. A muscle spasm seized the paramedic’s back. Johnny knew the muscles were trying to protect him from further injury by sending a message to his brain that said, “Don’t move!”  Unfortunately, not moving wasn’t an option at the moment.

     “Uncle Johnny, are you okay?”

     “Yeah...” Johnny gritted his teeth and took another step. “Yeah.  Come on...come on, John, let’s get outta here.”

     When Uncle Johnny didn’t call him ‘Little Pally’ or ‘kiddo’ but instead said ‘John’ in a serious tone, the boy knew things weren’t as okay as his uncle Johnny wanted him to think.  He gripped Johnny’s hand tighter and said, “I’ll help you walk. We’re not that far from the wall. You can do it, Uncle Johnny.”

     Despite his burning head wound, aching ribs, and the sharp pain in his back, Johnny smiled at the boy.  He was proud of his namesake.  He knew John had to be scared out of his wits, yet now that Johnny needed him to be calm and level-headed, John was coming through for him.

     The pair inched along. Johnny was barely able to lift his right leg from the ground, which made their progress slow at best.  Just when things had gotten quiet in the tent, and Johnny had hope the elephants had either left or calmed down, he heard a voice call out in a language he didn’t understand. He pegged the accent for East Indian. Because of that, an educated guess told Johnny the trainer had arrived on the scene.

     And that’s when all hell broke loose again.  The elephants screamed and the ground shook. Johnny cried out against his own pain as he scooped John up. He ran for the tent wall, dragging his right leg behind him, when a tremendous ‘boom!’ sounded above him, along with a man’s terror-filled shriek. The bleachers shook and a series of ‘ping, ping, pings’ sounded as bolts shot from their brackets. Johnny dove for the ground and lifted the canvas wall. He put his palm on John’s rear-end and shoved the boy underneath the canvas.

     “Go, John!  Get out! Go!”

     A rush of adrenaline meant the boy didn’t feel the rough corner of a falling board hit him on the right side of his forehead and slice the skin open. He slithered through the one-foot gap Johnny had created between the ground and the heavy canvas. John scrambled to his feet, taking brief notice that he was across from the booth where Johnny had purchased his toys.  

John turned around, waiting for Johnny to appear. He backpedaled with wide-eyed fright as the sound of the bleachers collapsing gave a thunderous ‘crash!’ A massive cloud of dust rose up from beneath the tent, and then it too collapsed, covering any debris...or human casualties, like a funeral shroud.

     “Uncle Johnny!” John cried, as dust coated the air.  He coughed, and took three steps toward the rubble. “Uncle Johnny!  Uncle Johnny!”

     Circus employees and police officers raced toward the tent, but John ignored their presence. John’s mother had always told him to seek out a police officer if he was ever lost or needed help, and John might have done that had it not been for one thing - the loud blast of air horns coming from the road.

     The boy ignored the blood running down the side of his face.  John darted between people, dashing around anyone who got in his way. He flew toward the parking lot, and the bright red fire engines coming through the gate.

Chapter 15

     Heather had been helping her mother and Marie Russell fill popcorn boxes when Bhagi appeared with his elephants trailing him. Heather had no idea what had happened during the show, but she could tell by the look on Bhagi’s face that he was furious. Whether his allowed his anger to overrule his common sense, or whether he was drunk, or in need of a drink, Heather didn’t know.  What she did know was that the man started beating Samara right out in the open with the club he carried.

     Marie gasped at the abuse, and Heather’s mother cried, “Heather!” as the girl raced from the concession stand.

     The twelve-year-old didn’t see Jack Benton stomping out of the performers’ ‘back door’ with a grim scowl.  The ringmaster witnessed Bhagi beating Samara, but before he could order the Indian to halt his actions, Heather yelled, “Bhagi!  Bhagi, stop!  Stop it!”

     The man turned on Heather as soon she grabbed his arm. He would have slammed his club into her skull if Samara hadn’t knocked him to the ground with a swoop of her trunk.

     “Stupid, girl!” The Indian cried. He jumped to his feet and wielded his club again.  He advanced on Heather. “Stupid, girl! You cause trouble for Bhagi, now Bhagi cause trouble for you!”

Benton ran toward the trainer, while Heather’s mother ran from the booth in an effort to protect her child.   

“Bhagi, that’s enough!” Mr. Benton ordered.

Bhagi’s rage was so great that he either didn’t hear the man, or chose to ignore him.  He raised his club, only to have Samara knock him aside again.  He stumbled over his feet and whacked her on the side with the weapon.  She cried out, and then kicked him with her massive foot. The Indian flew into the popcorn stand. He hit the back of his head on the wooden ledge, and had the breath knocked out of him.  He lay there, momentarily stunned, which was all the elephants needed.

If Heather could have given her elephant friends human characteristics that day, then she would have said that Chanda, Kamala, and Madri could no longer stand by and watch Samara suffer.  Kamala placed her trunk on Samara’s back, as though urging her to flee while she had the chance.  Madri did the same, and that’s when all four of the elephants turned and ran, heading directly for the tent that represented the lack of dignity, respect, and kindness in their lives, save for the love they received from one young girl named Heather.

Mr. Benton raced for the tent, while Marie ran for the trailer that served as his office. The office had a phone, and it was there that Marie placed the call to 911.

Heather and her mother heard screams coming from the tent. They watched as people spilled out in hysterical pandemonium.

“Dad!” Heather cried, knowing that her father would be with the clown troupe in the tent. “Dad!”

“No, Heather,” Lynette ordered. She grabbed her daughter’s hand. “No!” 

Lynette dragged Heather with her as she ran in search of Jay. The woman was worried about her husband, but Pat had grown up in the circus, and knew how to take care of himself. Lynette trusted that he’d do whatever he could to keep himself safe.  It was her children Lynette was most concerned with now.  The last she knew, Jay had been helping the bareback riders groom their horses.  He usually assisted in feeding and watering the horses after a performance, so she was counting on finding him with Juliana and Jolene, and Jolene’s boy, Nathan, who was a good friend of Jay’s.

Heather twisted, trying to get loose. “Mom, let me go!  I can get the girls under control. I can!”

By ‘girls’ Lynette knew Heather meant the elephants. Despite what she’d seen Samara do to protect Heather just seconds earlier, Lynette wasn’t going to allow her daughter to put herself in the path of danger.

“No, Heather, come on!  Let’s get Jay and get off the grounds. That’s what your dad always said for us to do if something like this happened. If one of the animals got loose, we were to get in the truck and--”

As screaming people ran by and knocked into the mother and daughter, Lynette lost her grip on Heather.  Before she could reclaim Heather’s hand, the girl was pushing people aside and running toward the tent. 

“Heather!  Heather!”

Two men in the panic-stricken mob grabbed Lynette’s arms and swept her along with them, thinking they were doing her a favor.

“No! No! My daughter!  My daughter’s back there!”

The men couldn’t hear Lynette over the screams of the crowd, and even if they had, they had no intention of stopping.

Lynette cried as she thought of Heather being trampled by people, or even elephants, but for now she had no choice but to focus her attention on reaching Jay and getting him to safety.

__________________

Heather fought her way through the sea of people spilling from the tent. Twice she stumbled, but managed to stay on her feet. Her hair was pulled and elbows jabbed her in the arms, but she kept fighting her way forward.  She reached an entrance to the tent just as Bhagi ran inside. The destruction made the girl gasp.  The elephants had torn apart the bandstand, the center rings, and a section of the bleachers. Paper drinking cups, cardboard popcorn containers, candy wrappers, peanut bags, purses, mismatched shoes, jackets, diaper bags, and programs littered the ground like snow. The garbage barrels had been knocked over and trash had spilled out. Heather spotted her father at the far end of the tent, directing the remainder of the fleeing people to an exit.  Jack Benton was carrying two screaming children, while assisting a limping man through a tent flap normally used by circus employees.

If only Bhagi had stayed away, Heather would think later.  If only he had stayed outside, things would have been fine. 

With the people gone, the elephants were calming down. The tent grew silent and the girls gathered together, as though they were now ready to exit in a far quieter fashion than they’d entered. 

As soon as the elephants heard the Indian’s voice, their rage rose again to a fevered pitch.  Bhagi had told Heather that elephants really do have the memory that is attributed to them, though often laughed off as being an old wives’ tale.  In Samara’s face, Heather saw the memory of every beating the beautiful, innocent creature had endured at Bhagi’s hands.  Samara lashed out as Bhagi stomped toward her. She grabbed the two thousand pound center support pole with her trunk and gave it a mighty yank.  Heather saw her father run toward the elephant.

“Daddy! Daddy, no!” Heather cried, but he didn’t hear her over the screams of the elephants. “Daddy, no!”

Guide ropes snapped like twigs, and the pole came down with a mighty crash as it hit a section of bleachers. The girl heard Bhagi scream, and saw her father turn to run as the tent started to collapse.

The elephants stampeded through Clown Alley, but before Heather could see if they, and her father, cleared the falling tent, someone grabbed her from behind and ran with her.

When she was thirty yards from the destruction, Heather was put down. She turned around to see Kristof.  She fell into his arms and started crying.

“Oh, Kristof. It wasn’t their fault. It wasn’t. It was Bhagi.  If he’d just left Samara alone. If he’d just--”

“I know, Heather.  I know.” The Hungarian held Heather at arms length and looked her in the eyes. “Now, are you going to stand here and cry, or are you going to help your elephant friends?”

“How...how can I help them?”

“We’ve got to get them rounded-up and calmed down before Mr. Benton has them shot.”

Heather’s eyes grew round. “Shot?”

Kristof nodded. “The police will shoot them if we can’t calm them, and convince Mr. Benton they are under control and will listen to us.”

“They’ll listen to us, Kristof.  They like us. They like both of us.”

“They do,” Kristof acknowledged, “but you, Heather...you are very special to them. Do you think you can stand up to Mr. Benton if you have to?  Do you think you can convince him that the elephants are not to blame for this?”

“I know I can. Mr. Benton saw what Bhagi was doing to Samara. He saw what started this.  That will make a difference, won’t it?”

Kristof glanced at the fallen tent, the incoming police cars and fire trucks, and the frenzied people still running for their vehicles.

“I do not know. Many people might have been hurt today.  It is hard to predict how Mr. Benton will react. But first things first.” Kristof took Heather by the hand. “Let us find the elephants.”

The girl looked up at the lion trainer as they ran toward the last direction Heather had seen the elephants fleeing.

“I...Kristof, I called that woman.  The one who has the wildlife refuge. The one whose name was in that article you gave me. She was coming here after the show to see if she could help with Samara. To see if Mr. Benton and Bhagi would let her give Samara a new home.”

“Good. Let’s hope she arrives soon.”  The man urged Heather along as he and the girl caught sight of policemen carrying rifles. “I have a feeling we are going to need all the help we can get.”

The girl said a brief prayer for her father’s safety, and for the safety of her mother and brother, as she ran beside Kristof. As much as Heather lover her family, she didn’t have time right now to find out what had happened them. She had to get to Samara, Madri, Kamala, and Chanda, before the police officers found them first.

Chapter 16

John DeSoto wiped at the blood on his face while he ran. The parking lot was filled with people.  Some were crying, some were bleeding, and some were hugging. John scooted around the police officers trying to calm the crowd, and get some idea of who was seriously injured and if there were any missing children.

John was so intent on getting to the arriving fire trucks, that no adult tried to stop him. He wasn’t crying, and had such a determined look on his face, that anyone who took notice of him thought the child knew exactly where he was going. As though he’d spotted his parents waiting for him somewhere in the lot.

John paused and watched the incoming trucks. He knew people at two stations.  Station 51, where Mr. Lopez and Mr. Kelly worked, and where John’s daddy used to work, and then Station 26, where his daddy worked now.

“Two, six. Two, six. Two, six.” The kindergartner kept repeating the digits he knew made up the number 26, as he watched for it to appear on the side of a passing engine. 

John wasn’t sure what he would do if Station 26 or Station 51 didn’t arrive on the scene, and that thought almost made him start to cry again.  But then John realized that if he just told a firefighter his name, and that he was at the circus with his uncle Johnny Gage, then the firefighter would help him even if the man didn’t work for his daddy, or wasn’t Mr. Lopez or Mr. Kelly.  John’s daddy and his uncle Johnny had been firemen for a long time – since years and years and years before John was born. The other firefighters would know who they were and would help John.

John mumbled, “One eight,” as he spotted the numbers on a big engine rolling by him. He then looked at the paramedic squad and engine turning into the lot behind it. 

“Two six!  Two six!” the boy cried, when he saw the numbers on the squad first, and then on the fire truck. He jumped in the air and waved his hands. “Two six! Two six!”

Mac caught sight of a boy racing toward the big truck. He gave a long blast of the air horn, but it didn’t deter the child. Mac took his foot off the accelerator and started to brake.

“What the hell is that kid do--”

It was then that Mac saw the blood on the boy’s dust-smudged face. At first Mac thought the child was letting him know that he needed medical help, but then the engineer got a better look at the kid as the boy ran closer.

“Roy, isn’t that John?”

Roy leaned forward and looked out the driver’s side window.  Mac was pointing at a little kid who was wearing camouflage pants, tennis shoes, and t-shirt.

“Mac, stop the truck!” Roy ordered, which Mac took to be a yes to his question.

The captain jumped out before the truck came to a full halt. Roy ran around in front of it, just as John launched himself into Roy’s arms.

“Daddy! Daddy!”

For a moment, all Roy could do was hug his youngest child.  He felt John squeeze his neck, as Roy kissed the boy’s cheek.

John felt so safe wrapped in his father’s arms, but then he remembered why he’d been running in the first place.  He pushed against Roy’s shoulders so his father would quit hugging him. 

“Daddy, we have to find Uncle Johnny.”

“Find him?”  Roy looked around. A sea of people was spread out before him, making it difficult to recognize anyone.  But Roy knew one thing – there was no way Johnny would allow John to run free on the grounds, which meant Johnny and John had somehow gotten separated in the chaos.

Roy wiped at the blood on John’s face, and tried to determine where it was coming from. 

“We’ll find Uncle Johnny, rascal,” Roy assured; using the nickname he’d coined his youngest with several years earlier. “Just let me look at your head and--

The boy batted his father’s hands away.

“No, Daddy! I mean we have to find Uncle Johnny so we can help him.”

“Help him? Help him how?”

“He was in the tent when it fell down. We were under the bleachers.  Uncle Johnny tripped, and people were running over him, but then he got us under the bleachers.  We were tryin’ to get out, only something happened and boards started falling.  Uncle Johnny pushed me under the tent, but he didn’t come out.  The tent fell on top of him, Daddy.”

Roy wasn’t sure what to make of this explanation. Before he could get back to his truck, a battalion chief’s station wagon pulled up beside him and Hank Stanley stepped out.  The man recognized the child in Roy’s arms with the dirty, bloody face.

“Roy? What’s goin’ on?”

Roy quickly told Hank what he knew, based on what John had said, as other fire trucks and paramedic squads swung around Engine 26.  

“I just got an update from dispatch as I pulled in,” Hank informed the man. “The main tent did collapse. They don’t know how many people might be in there.”

“Uncle Johnny’s in there!”

“John,” Roy said. “Are you sure about that?”

The boy nodded. “I’m sure, Daddy.  I waited for him to come out, but he didn’t.  Then I heard a big crash, like a buncha boards fallin’, and then the tent fell down and there was lotsa’  dust.”

Hank lifted his handie talkie to his mouth and gave instructions to the engine companies on hand to begin search and rescue of the fallen tent. He took his finger off the ‘talk’ button and looked at Roy.

“You take your engine crew and assist.”

Roy nodded, recognizing the favor Hank was granting. “Thanks, Cap...Chief.”

Hank smiled at the way old habits died hard. “You’re welcome.”

As Roy ran for the engine with John in his arms, Hank got in his vehicle and drove further into the parking lot. His job was to set up a command post. He’d oversee the evacuation of the injured, and make the summons for more engines, squads, or ambulances if needed, while at the same time directing the search and rescue efforts.

Roy boosted John into the engine, then climbed on board.

“Hey there, John,” Mac greeted while pressing his foot on the accelerator.

     The boy barely said, “Hi,” as he strained to see out of the window.

     “Where to, Cap?” Mac asked.

     Before Roy could answer, John said, “To the place where Uncle Johnny bought my toys.”

     Roy ignored his son and pointed straight ahead. “Chief Stanley wants us to be part of search and rescue. Swing her up there and we’ll...”

     “No, Daddy. We have to go where Uncle Johnny bought my toys.”

     “John, we don’t have time to worry about toys right now. We--”

     “But that’s where Uncle Johnny is.”

     “You told me he was in the tent when it collapsed.”

     “He is.  When he pushed me out, I was right by the place where he bought my toys.”  John patted his kangaroo pocket, while Roy dabbed at John’s bloody head with a handkerchief. “If we go by the place where Uncle Johnny bought my toys, then I can show you where he is.”

     Mac waited for Roy to tell him what to do.  Roy thought a moment, then said, “John, show Mac how to find this toy stand you’re talking about.”

     John did as his father instructed.  Mac got the truck as close as he could to the spot John indicated, before he put the engine in neutral and set the parking brake.

The massive canvas tent was covering what looked like mounds of uneven hills. In some places the canvas was draped fifteen feet from the ground, while in others, it was lying flat. Roy could see shapes beneath the tan canvas, but it was difficult to guess what type of debris the fallen tent might be hiding.

     Roy and Mac climbed out of the truck, while the reminder of Roy’s engine crew scrambled from their seats in the back. Roy ordered Tom Weiss to locate the electrical boxes and shut off the power supply to the tent.

     “Got it, Cap,” Tom said, as he ran toward a group of men dressed as clowns, who were gathered at one end of the fallen tent.  He conferred with the men for a moment, then cupped his hands over his mouth and shouted, “It’s already been done, Cap! The electricity’s off!”

     “Good!” Roy acknowledged, as he held his hands up to his son. He caught the boy beneath his armpits and swung him to the ground.

     “Let’s see if you can help us find where Uncle Johnny is.”

     Because the stand where John’s toys had been purchased was undamaged, it was easy for the boy to locate exactly where he’d crawled from the tent.  He led his father to the spot and pointed.

     “Here.  It was right here.”

     Before Roy could grab his son and send him to sit in the engine’s cab, John ran to the edge of the destruction.

     “John!”

     “I came out here, Daddy!”

     The boy bent down and gave a little cry.  Roy dodged the throngs of firemen already beginning search and rescue efforts.  When he got to where John was crouched, Roy knew what had caused his son’s reaction.  A man’s hand was sticking out from under the canvas. John grasped the hand before Roy could stop him.

     “Uncle Johnny!”

     “John, don’t,” Roy ordered, fearful his son might have just grabbed the hand of a corpse.  He didn’t allow himself to acknowledge that the corpse could be John Gage. The back of the hand was hairless; the fingers long, slim, and strong in appearance.  Though many men possessed hands with the same characteristics, at the moment Roy was all too aware that these were characteristics of Johnny’s hands. 

     Roy lifted John’s hand from the man’s, and reached for the pulse point on his wrist. Whoever it was, the man was still alive.

     Roy turned and shouted, “I’ve got a trapped man here!”

     As boots pounded the ground, the hand moved enough to be able to grasp Roy’s.  The captain’s hand was squeezed.  He squeezed back, and on nothing other than what Roy figured was a remote chance, hailed in a loud voice, “Johnny?”

     Roy barely heard the, “Yeah...yeah...Roy?” gasped in return.

     “Yeah, Johnny, it’s Roy! Can you tell me how badly you’re hurt?”

     “Roy...Roy...John?  John...he--”

     “John’s with me! He’s right here, Johnny. Don’t worry about him.”

     “I’m right here, Uncle Johnny!” John shouted.

     Roy thought he heard Johnny mutter, “Thank God,” but he wasn’t certain. Regardless, that sentiment and others like it would have to wait.  They needed to get Johnny, and any other victims, out as soon as possible.

     “Johnny, what are you trapped under besides this tent?”

     “Wooden...bleachers.  The bleach...the bleachers fell on me.”

     “Okay. Where are you hurt?”

     “Ribs...back...head...”

     When Johnny said no more, John added, “His face was bleeding, Daddy.  His nose and mouth, and he had a black eye. People stepped on him.”

     “All right, son,” Roy acknowledged. “Thank you.”

     Roy squeezed Johnny’s hand a final time and said, “We’ll have you outta here just as soon as we can, partner.”

     “I’ll...I’ll hold...hold you to that,” came the muffled response.

     Roy did his best to tease in return, “I’m sure you will.”

     The captain let go of his friend’s hand, and headed toward the engine with his son.  Roy contacted Hank Stanley, told him Johnny had been found, and requested that paramedics be sent to his location. Hank acknowledged Roy’s request with a, “10-4, Engine 26.”

     Roy placed John on the engine’s passenger seat.

     “I need you to be a big boy for me and wait right here until I come back. Can you do that?”

     “Yes,” John nodded his head.  Sometimes it was hard for him to sit in one place for long, but John knew by the look on his father’s face that the man was counting on him to obey. “I’ll wait here.”

     “Good boy. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

     “Don’t worry ‘bout me, Daddy. Just get Uncle Johnny out of there, ‘kay? He took care of me when it was so scary. Now you’ll take care of him, right?”

     “You bet I will,” Roy promised.

     The captain patted his son on the knee, then shut the passenger side door.  The truck was close enough that John could watch what was going on, and that Roy could keep an eye on the cab to make sure John remained in it. 

     A man wearing a dust-covered tuxedo ran up to Roy and introduced himself as the owner of the circus.

     “What can we do to help?” Jack asked, as circus employees dressed in everything from clown costumes, to tights, to tutus, to glittering vests, to band uniforms, milled behind him.

     “First of all, I need to know how many of your people might be trapped in there.”

     “Just one, we think.  The elephant trainer, Bhagi.”  Jack pointed to a white-faced clown who was wearing a gigantic red and white polka dot bow tie, along with oversized plaid pants that were being held up by suspenders. “Pat saw Bhagi go in the tent, but hasn’t seen him since it fell. As near as we can tell at this time, all the other performers got out.”

     Roy looked at Pat Langford. “How about the audience? Did all of them get out?”

     “I think so.  I was trying to keep people calm and direct them to the exits.  The last few had just run by me when the tent started to fall. I didn’t see anyone left behind.”

     “There was someone left behind, all right,” Roy assured Jack and Pat.

     “Someone from the audience?” Jack questioned.

     “Yeah.” Roy pointed to the area where Johnny was. “Our department’s paramedic instructor, John Gage, was here today with my youngest son.”

     Jack Benton visibly blanched.  He had already been envisioning the lawsuits that were going to result from today’s fiasco, but at least up until this point he wasn’t aware of any potential serious injuries, other that what Bhagi may have incurred.  Now the words of this fire department captain changed all of that.

     “Chief Gage was able to get my son out from underneath the tent wall before it fell,” Roy went on to say, “but we know he’s trapped under a fallen stand of bleachers in this vicinity.”

     The experienced circus man in Jack Benton took over. “All right.  Then the first thing we need to do is lift the tent.”

     “That would be a big help if you can manage it.”

     “We can,” Jack assured. Ironically, it was the elephants that normally aided in raising the tent, but there were other means to go about it if necessary.

     “Once that much is done, we’ll clear the boards away until we reach Johnny, and anyone else who might be trapped.  It would help if some of your people walked along the perimeter and called out, then listened for anyone answering them. For right now, that’s the best way we have of determining who besides Johnny and your trainer might be in there.”

     “All right.”

     Jack turned and began giving instructions. A large group of men ran to get the hooked poles they’d need to lift the tent, while some of the women began circling it while calling, “Is anyone in there?  Can you hear me?  Does anyone need help?”

     “What about the elephants?” Roy asked. “Have they been contained?”

     “I don’t know.  We haven’t found them yet.”

     The male half of the Russian acrobat team, Rurik, said, “I saw Pat’s daughter and Kristof looking for them.”

     This was the first Pat Langford had heard of where Heather was.  All he’d known until this moment, was that Heather had been helping her mother and Marie Russell in the popcorn booth, and Jay was helping Jolene and Juliana, meaning Pat had been fairly certain his family was safe.  Now that certainty evaporated into worry for his twelve-year-old.

     “I have the police looking for the elephants, too,” Jack said.

“All right.”

Jack hollered instructions to his employees, while Roy pulled his handie talkie from a pocket of his turnout coat. He let the units making up the search and rescue team know that the elephants might still be a factor, then let them know that at least two men were trapped in the debris.  Before he could contact Hank Stanley and apprise him of the situation, the man was at his elbow.

“Whatta ya’ got, Roy?”

Roy brought Hank up-to-date on what was occurring.

“The owner of the circus is a guy named Jack Benton. His people are getting the tools they need to lift this tent for us.”

“Good. And Johnny?”

“We’ve found him.” Roy nodded to where Don McWinters and Tom Weiss were crouched at the edge of the destruction talking to Johnny in an attempt to keep him conscious, as well as reassured that they’d have him out soon. “He was able to tell me his back, ribs, and head hurt, but until we get him out, we won’t know the extent of his injuries.”

“All right.” Hank looked toward the parking lot.  “We’ve been lucky so far. Most of the injuries have been minor. Cuts, bruises, a few sprained ankles, some asthma attacks, one broken wrist that happened when a woman fell in the parking lot while running for her car, and numerous cases of hysteria, especially among the kids.” 

“I bet,” Roy said, as he envisioned what the scene inside that tent must have been like. “Speaking of the kids, are any missing?”

“The police are still trying to get a handle on that, but at this time, no. So far, no one – adult or child - has been reported missing.”

     “Good.” Roy stared at the massive tent. “Let’s hope it stays that way. I don’t wanna find any surprises under there.”

     “Me neither, pal. Me neither.”

     Hank patted Roy on the arm. “Listen, I’m going back to the command post. Keep me updated.”

     “I will.”

     “And let me know when you get John out.  If you need the Flight for Life chopper--”

     “I’ll let you know,” Roy interrupted. He hadn’t allowed Hank to finish that sentence, because Roy didn’t want to entertain the notion that Johnny’s injuries might be serious enough to warrant such a mode of transportation. 

     Hank patted Roy’s arm again before jogging toward the command center. For just a moment, Roy allowed himself to bask in nostalgia as his mind wandered back to the years he’d called Hank Stanley, “Cap,” and had worked out of Station 51 with Johnny.  Because Roy was a practical man, he didn’t long to turn back the clock, yet he’d readily admit that his years spent working as a paramedic alongside John Gage were amongst the best and happiest of his life.

     Roy’s paramedics arrived at the tent as Hank was leaving. Roy asked Brett to look at the cut on John’s head while the rescue efforts got underway. Brett took John’s vital signs, checked the reaction of his pupils to the penlight, asked him a few simple questions like his name and age, then cleaned and bandaged the cut. He contacted Rampart, before reporting to Roy that John appeared to be fine.

“Even so,” Brett said, “due to the combination of the head wound and his young age, Rampart advises we transport him, Cap.”

Roy nodded. He’d expected that request. “We’ll transport John at the same time we transport Johnny. I might send John to Rampart in your squad, and have you call my wife when you get there, if you don’t mind.”

“No,” Brett assured, feeling honored that Roy would make such a request of him. “I don’t mind. I don’t mind at all.”

The young man assumed Roy knew he might not be able to leave the scene, and also assumed Roy didn’t want his son upset by having to ride in an ambulance with the injured John Gage. 

Roy was impressed with the way the circus employees worked together like a well-rehearsed team. In that respect, they reminded him of the way firemen worked together to accomplish a common goal. But he supposed that at least in one way, the lives of the circus performers and firefighters were similar. They lived with and labored along side their co-workers for long stretches of time, and to an extent, became an isolated community all their own.

Forty men hoisting forty hooked poles thrust the heavy canvas tent in the air.  The hooks extended as long as fifty feet, and operated similar to a prosthetic hand.  By squeezing a handle like the one used on a chalking gun, the men were able to open the rounded hooks, close them, and clamp them onto the canvas.   

As soon as the tent was raised enough so the firefighters could get under it, the heart of the search and rescue operation began. Rurik stood in the center of the tent with a hook.  He had it thrust into the tent’s roof, and was keeping the structure supported in the way the pole that had fallen had done.  The tent was only twenty feet above their heads, as opposed to its original height of forty-seven feet, but twenty feet was more than enough for now.

 Other than boards missing here and there that the elephants had torn off, most of the bleachers were still intact, making it easy to search for victims. It was only the section Johnny and John had been under that had collapsed as a result of the center support pole falling on it. Roy assisted in removing the five-foot long boards, while repeatedly cautioning anyone who got in a hurry to slow down.

“We don’t wanna cause an internal collapse.”

The men silently acknowledged Roy was correct. The last thing John Gage needed were more boards showering down upon him.

Before they reached Johnny, another body was found. Roy held his breath when he first caught sight of a patch of thick dark hair, but within seconds, he knew the victim wasn’t Johnny, unless Johnny had taken to wearing a brocaded vest and pantaloons.

Brett stepped in and attempted to get a pulse on the man.  When he couldn’t, he looked at Roy and shook his head. 

Roy nodded his understanding. Based on the location of the heavy support pole, and the way the back of the elephant trainer’s skull was caved in, the captain surmised the pole had hit the man as it fell.

Brett and three firemen lifted the body and carried it to the center of the tent.  They laid it in a Stokes, and then Brett covered it with a yellow blanket.  Roy reported this first casualty to Hank Stanley via his handie talkie.

“Looks like the missing elephant trainer Mr. Benton told me about, Chief.”

“10-4, Engine 26.  I’ll have dispatch call for the coroner.”

“10-4.”

“Did you get to Johnny yet, Roy?”’

“Not yet, but we’re working on it.”

Roy heard Hank Stanley’s final “10-4,” then shoved his handie talkie back in his coat pocket. He looked up as the tent roof swayed.  At first he was concerned it was coming down on top of them, but then realized that the men outside were using ropes to tie it off to stakes. That wouldn’t relieve the inside support man of his duties, but it would take some of the tent’s weight off of his arms. 

The pile of boards began to grow smaller. Tom Weiss yelled, “I can see his feet!” when they finally got the stack dwindled enough that Johnny was no longer completely covered. It was then that Roy saw what had kept the man from suffocating, and why Roy’s words of caution had been voiced for good reason.  A set of boards had formed a crude tepee over Johnny, and other boards held them in place at their base. This stroke of luck had kept weight off the man’s torso, which in turn allowed him to breathe.

Boards were passed from hand to hand until more of Johnny was uncovered.  Roy moved forward, being careful as he stepped over the piles of lumber they hadn’t touched yet.  When there was enough room for the paramedics to work, Roy called for Brett and his partner, Craig Iverson.

Roy crouched beside his friend and laid a light hand on his shoulder.  “Johnny, you still with me?”

“Ye...yeah,” came the quiet response.

Johnny was prone in the dirt. The left side of his face was visible, as were his arms.  By their position above his head, and the cuts and bruises covering them, Roy surmised Johnny had used his arms to protect his head when the bleachers collapsed. Nonetheless, his hair was matted with blood, and his shirt collar soaked with it. 

Roy hovered close by as the paramedics assessed Johnny’s condition.  It was hard for him to resist offering assistance, but that was no longer his job, nor was he currently certified to do so.  Roy was vaguely aware of Station 18’s captain instructing men to continue removing boards so they could make certain there were no other victims in the rubble. Roy’s engine crew and three men from Station 36 resumed removing the boards surrounding Johnny. They wanted Brett and Craig to have as much room to work as they needed.

Craig took Johnny’s vital signs. He relayed them to Rampart, and then told Dixie, “The patient is Chief Gage.”

There was a moment of hesitation on the head nurse’s part, then Craig heard her, “10-4, 26,” before she broke the connection to summon Kelly Brackett. 

While Craig stayed in contact with Rampart, Brett asked Johnny where he was hurt, and if he could remember how he’d gotten his injuries.

     Johnny’s voice was etched with pain and was half its normal strength when he told his former student, “I...I fell.”

Brett put a pressure bandage on the back of Johnny’s head and secured it. “You mean you fell through the bleachers?”

“No...the crowd...they panicked.  I...I picked up John.  Everyone...they were all runnin’...makin’ things worse...’n I tripped. I couldn’t...‘cause of the people I couldn’t...couldn’t get back up.” Johnny grimaced when Brett explored his rib cage. “I laid on top of...top of John while they ran by.  I final...finally got us close enough to the bleachers that we could...could crawl under.”

When Brett used his scissors to cut Johnny’s shirt open, Roy saw the truth to his friend’s words. Bruises covered the man’s back, some in the shape of shoe prints.

“Did you lose consciousness at all, Chief?”

“No. No...I don’t think so.”  Johnny’s left eye searched what limited area he could see as Brett asked Mac to hand him the backboard and a C-collar.  “Roy...John? Where’s John?”

“He’s fine,” Roy assured.  “He’s sitting in the cab of the engine.”

“He’s...he’s okay?”

“Yeah, Johnny, he’s okay.”

“Sorry...sorry I sent...sent him out by himself.”

“Well, I’m not sorry. Now quit talking, and do whatever Brett and Craig tell you to. They’re good at what they do.”

“You’re damn...damn right they are. I taught ‘em...taught ‘em every...everything they know.”

Roy smiled and patted his friend on the leg.  If nothing else, Johnny asserting his sense of humor was a good sign.

After Brett had the C-collar in place, he removed Johnny’s tennis shoes and socks, and then asked the man to move his hands and feet. Roy was relieved to see Johnny was able to respond to those commands.

Brett pulled a Bic pen out of his shirt pocket and poked the pointed end into the sole of Johnny’s right foot.

“Can you feel that, Chief?”

“Yeah.”

“How about now?” Brett asked, as he moved the pen.

“Yeah.”

“And now?”

“Yeah.”

The process was repeated with the left foot, and again, Brett got affirmative answers to his inquiries. He then alternated pressing the pointed end of the cap into Johnny’s feet, with the smooth side of the cap.  Each time this was done, Johnny was able to tell the difference between what sensation was sharp, versus what was dull. He was also correctly able to identify what toes Brett pressed the pointed end of the cap into.

Brett looked at Roy and Craig. 

“Okay, let’s get him on the backboard.”

Roy helped his paramedics put log roll Johnny onto the backboard. The man cried out at the movement, but whether the pain was coming from his back or ribs, Roy didn’t know.

Once Johnny was facing the tent’s roof, Brett ran one end of his penlight up the sole of Johnny’s right foot, and then did the same to his left. The man’s toes curled, which was again, a good sign.  Any other reaction, or lack thereof, could indicate spinal cord damage.

“Negative Babinski,” Craig relayed to Rampart.  He listened to Brackett’s response, then asked, “Any tingling or numbness, Chief?”

“No. My right leg gave out on me, but it feels...feels okay now.  Hurts when I move my foot, though.”

“Hurts how?”

“Just...just a pain shootin’ from my lower...lower back to my heel.”

“All right. I’ll make sure Doctor Brackett knows that.”

Craig relayed the latest information to Doctor Brackett, then told the man they were ready to transport.

“10-4, 26,” Kelly Brackett acknowledged. “Transport as soon as possible. We’ll be waiting for him.” 

Brett secured Johnny to the backboard, and then covered him with a yellow blanket.  With help from Tom and Mac, the paramedics and Roy carried the backboard to a gurney that an ambulance attendant had just pushed into the tent.  Craig started the IV of Ringers Lactate that Doctor Brackett had ordered for the patient, then he and Brett gathered up their equipment, along with Johnny’s shoes and socks. 

“You ride in with him,” Brett said to Craig. “I’m gonna bring Cap’s son in the squad.”

“Okay.”

“You don’t need to do that,” a voice instructed.

Roy and the paramedics turned to see Hank Stanley standing behind them, along with the captain of Station 26’s C-shift, Paul Richards.

“Roy, you’re relieved of duty as of right now,” Hank said. “Go ahead and ride in the ambulance with John and Johnny.”

“But--”

“No buts. Richards here has volunteered to finish out your shift.”

Roy didn’t know if someone had called Paul and alerted him of the situation, or if Paul had heard the calls go out over his police scanner. Captain Richards was Roy’s age, divorced, and had no children.  It was a well-known fact that the man’s life revolved around the fire department, which was the reason attributed to the break-up of his brief marriage.

“Go on, Roy,” Paul urged. “I’ll take over for ya’.  All I was doing was sittin’ around my apartment trying to find something on T.V. besides golf.”

“Working is better than golf, huh?” Roy questioned with a smile.

“You damn well better believe it is.”

“Everything’s under control here, Roy,” Hank said. “We’re transporting the last of the victims now. All we need to do is finish searching the section of bleachers where 18’s crew is working. There’re plenty of us on hand to do that. You go ahead and ride in with Johnny.”

“All right. If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

“Thanks, Chief.”

“You’re welcome.”

Hank crouched by the gurney a moment before it was rolled out of the tent.

“How ya’ doin’, pal?”

Johnny couldn’t move his head because of the C-collar. His eyes slid to the right until he could see part of Hank’s face.

“I’m...I’m okay, Cap...Chief.  Be...be better when they take this stupid C-collar off.”

 “You leave it on for now.”

Johnny wiggled his hands beneath the blanket. The gurney’s straps around his wrists limited his movements. “Don’t think I have much choice.”

“Doesn’t look that way.” 

Hank gave Johnny’s shoulder a light squeeze, then stood and stepped out of the way.

While the ambulance attendant and Craig wheeled the gurney out, Roy ran to the engine. He was proud of the young boy who had behaved so well during this long ordeal. John was still seated in the passenger side of the cab, his eyes attentively following all of the activity going on around him.  He opened the door when he saw Roy running toward him.

“Was that Uncle Johnny those guys just took outta there on that bed?”

“It’s called a gurney, and yeah, that was Uncle Johnny, rascal.”

John couldn’t stop the tears that welled up in his eyes.  “Is he hurt real bad?”

Roy knew lying to his son would only make things worse later on if Johnny’s injuries proved to be serious.

“I don’t know, John. We won’t have any answers about that until after Doctor Brackett has seen Uncle Johnny.” Roy gave his son’s nose a tweak, and wiped at the boy’s tears with his thumbs. “But your uncle Johnny is one a tough guy, so don’t you worry.”

Roy took off his helmet and turnout coat, and hung them on the thick hook behind his seat. Roy swung John into his arms, closed the cab’s door, and jogged to the waiting ambulance.

“We get to ride with Uncle Johnny?”

“We sure do.”

“Can I talk to him?”

“You can say hello, but then you have to sit with me on the bench.  We can’t get in Craig’s way. It’s his job to take care of Uncle Johnny until we get to Rampart, and we don’t want him telling Doctor Brackett we interfered, do we?” 

John shook his head.  “Uh huh.” He liked Doctor Brackett, but had overheard his father and uncle Johnny say enough about the physician to know that the man didn’t tolerate misbehavior on the part of grown men...and probably wouldn’t tolerate it on the part of little boys, either. 

Roy set John on the ambulance’s floor and climbed in behind him.  John was frozen in place. He stared at Johnny, frightened by the sight of the C-collar, the backboard, the medicine running into his uncle Johnny’s arm, and the bruises and dried blood dotting the man’s face.

“Go on, John,” Roy urged. “Get in and sit on the bench.”

John did as his father ordered.  He sat directly across from Johnny’s head.  Roy set next to his son, as Brett closed the door and gave it two slaps with his palm.

Craig took an updated reading of Johnny’s vital signs for Doctor Brackett as the ambulance headed out of the parking lot.  John looked at his father and asked over the sound of the wailing siren, “How come Uncle Johnny won’t look at me?  Is he mad at me?”

“No, he’s not mad at you. See that thing he has around his neck?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s called a cervical collar.  He can’t move his head or neck while he’s wearing it.”

“Why does he have to wear it?”

“It’s just a precaution in case he hurt his back or neck when the bleachers fell on him. The collar will keep him from hurting himself further.”

“Oh. Is he gonna have to wear it all the time now?”

Roy smiled. “No. Only until Doctor Brackett has the chance to see what Uncle Johnny’s injuries are.”

“Can I...can I say hi to Uncle Johnny?”

“Sure.” Roy lifted his son off the bench. “Kneel right there by his head, but don’t jostle the gurney.  You say hello, and tell Uncle Johnny you’re fine, then come back and sit by me.”

“Okay.”

While Craig was relaying Johnny’s vital signs to Doctor Brackett, John knelt by the patient’s head. He spoke loudly so he’d be heard over the siren.

“Uncle Johnny?”

Johnny opened his eyes and moved them toward the sound.  When John realized the man couldn’t see him, he lifted his butt from his heels and knelt as straight and tall as he could.

“Uncle Johnny, can you see me now?”

The skin on Johnny’s split lip gave a painful tug as he tried to smile at the boy. “Sure, Little Pally...I...I can see ya’.”

“Do your owies hurt a lot?”

“Nah. I’ve been hurt...been hurt worse fallin’...fallin’ off my bike.” Johnny’s eyes lifted to the white bandage on the boy’s forehead. “How about yours?”

“Nah. I’ve been hurt worse fallin’ off my bike.”

Despite the pain it caused him, Johnny smiled again. John never failed to amuse him.

“John, come back over here now,” Roy instructed.

“I’ll talk to ya’ later, Uncle Johnny. We’ll bring you a present. Whatta ya’ want?”

“How...how about that...that lady acrobat from the circus?”

John crinkled his nose with distaste. “Why would ya’ want a present like that?”

“If you gotta ask, kiddo, then...then you’re not old enough to know.”

“That’s right, he’s not.” Roy tried to hide his smile as he shagged John by the back of the shirt and pulled him to the bench.  “And besides, I have a feeling you’re not gonna be up to entertaining any lady acrobats for a while.”

“Might be...might be fun to try, though.”

Roy smiled and shook his head. There were aspects of John Gage’s personality that would never change, no matter how old he got, or what level of responsibilities came his way.

Roy kept his son by his side throughout the rest of the trip to Rampart. Johnny’s vital signs remained strong, and he remained conscious and oriented, which went a long way in relieving the concerns Roy had for the man’s well being. 

After the ambulance backed into the bay, Roy made John wait beside him until Johnny’s gurney was unloaded and headed down the hall to a treatment room.  Roy took his son by the hand and they climbed out of the ambulance together. They walked to the nurses’ station so Roy could let Betty know that John needed to have his head wound looked at as soon as a doctor was available.

If John hadn’t been with him, Roy would have slipped into the trauma room where Kelly Brackett and Dixie McCall had disappeared with Johnny.  But because Roy couldn’t do that, he used the phone at the nurses’ station and called Joanne.  The phone rang five times, and then the answering machine picked up.  Roy glanced at his watch. It was twenty after six. Considering Joanne was expecting Johnny to arrive with John in the next ten minutes, Roy knew she hadn’t gone too far from home. She was either out in the garage where she worked on some of her craft projects and hadn’t heard the phone ring, or maybe she was next door visiting with the elderly widow who appreciated Joanne’s company now and again. 

“Jo, if you didn’t see the news yet, something happened at the circus this afternoon, but John is fine. I’m at Rampart, and have him here with me.  It’s a long story, so I’ll fill you in when I see you. Johnny was hurt, but I don’t know much about his condition yet. I’m gonna need a ride to the station in order to pick up my car. Please come to the emergency room as soon as you get this message.”

Roy handed the receiver to his son and said, “Leave your mom a message so she knows you’re okay.”

“But you already told her I was okay.”

“I know, but she’ll want to hear it from you.”

The boy took the receiver and said to the machine, “Mom, I’m fine.  I got a bump on my head, but it doesn’t hurt.  The elephants got loose, and then people started pushin’ and shovin’ and runnin’, and then Uncle Johnny picked me up, only he fell, and then--”

Roy took the receiver from his son and said, “We’ll tell you the rest when we see you.  Bye.”

John watched as his father hung up the phone.

“Hey, what’d you do that for?”

“What?”

“Took the phone away from me.”

“Because you would have run the answering machine out of tape if I hadn’t stopped you.”

“Oh. Well, then I’ll tell Mom all about it when she comes to get us.”

“I’m sure you will,” Roy agreed, as he steered John toward the men’s room. The boy had started to dance from foot to foot while Roy was on the phone. Roy hadn’t been a father for nineteen years not to know what that indicated.

After John made use of the facilities, Roy washed his son’s dirty arms, hands, and face with soap and warm water.  When the pair exited the men’s room a few minutes later, Betty told Roy that Doctor Early was waiting for John in Treatment Room 3.

Roy took his son by the hand. He glanced at Treatment Room 2 as they passed by, but no one came out, meaning Roy didn’t get an update on Johnny before taking his son to see Doctor Early.

Chapter 17

     Heather and Kristof searched the grounds until they finally located the renegade elephants. Heather spotted them in a stand of scraggily trees behind the trailer where school was conducted. They’re massive bodies tensed, until they realized who was approaching.  Heather ran to the pachyderms before Kristof could stop her. Though the lion tamer knew the girl had an excellent rapport with the elephants, he didn’t realize the depths of it until he watched them literally circle her within their fold.  They patted her back with their trunks, then Samara pulled her close in what Kristof could only describe as a hug.

     The girl was speaking softly to her friends, assuring them that things were going to all right, when half a dozen police officers arrived toting rifles. Right behind them came Jack Benton and Heather’s father.

     Kristof knew he was risking his job when he moved to stand in front of the mammals.  He was a rarity amongst men who made their living training circus animals, in that he didn’t believe it was necessary to master the animal through intimidation and abuse. Like Heather, Kristof couldn’t stand the thought of these beautiful creatures being shot for something Bhagi had caused.

     “Heather, get away from there,” Pat Langford ordered.

     The girl remained where she was, standing between Samara and Madri. She could sense the elephants’ nervousness at the men’s arrival, but she could also sense that they would remain calm as long as she was in their midst.

     “No, Daddy, I can’t.”

     “Heather--”

     The girl ignored her father and looked at Jack Benton.

“Please, Mr. Benton, you can’t let the policemen shoot the girls.  They only acted the way they did because of how Bhagi treated them.  See.” Heather stroked one hand over Samara’s side, and her other over Madri’s. “They’re perfectly fine now.”

     “That may be so,” Jack agreed, “but we’re without an elephant trainer now, so we have no way to take care of them. Besides, I can’t trust them again. I can’t allow them to perform again.  And you know what that means, Heather. I can’t afford to feed a hay burner. And especially not four hay burners.”

     Heather didn’t know what Mr. Benton meant when he said they were without an elephant trainer.  She assumed Bhagi had been fired. It wouldn’t be until later that evening, that Heather would find out from her father that Bhagi had been killed when the tent collapsed.

     “I can take care of them until something can be done.”

     “I will help her,” Kristof volunteered. “I will take charge of them, Jack.”

     “That’s all good and well, Kristof, but I’ve got enough problems as it is. If they go on a rampage again, I’ll have to shut down the circus for good.  Do you know how many people that will put out of a job? Including you, I might add.”

     Heather never was certain if the policemen would have shot the elephants on Mr. Benton’s order.  They seemed uncertain as to what to do, considering the girls were quiet.  The only form of restlessness came when they pawed the ground, or swayed back and forth.  Before Mr. Benton had a chance to say what he wanted done to the elephants, a crowd of newspaper reporters, television reporters, and cameramen gathered behind him.

     “Oh great,” Heather heard the man mutter.  “This is all I need.”

     Questions were thrown at the circus owner.

     “Mr. Benton, are you going to have the elephants shot?”

     “Mr. Benton, is it true that your elephant trainer was abusing these animals, and that they fled in self-defense?”

     “Mr. Benton, are you aware that animal-rights activists are stepping up their campaign to rid all circuses of wild animal acts?”

     “Mr. Benton, how many lawsuits do you think you’ll incur because of what happened here today?”

     “Mr. Benton--”

     Heather soothed the nervous elephants. “Shhhh. Shhhh. It’s okay, girls. It’s all right.”

     A petite, gray-headed woman wearing round wire-rimmed glasses pushed her way through the throng of reporters. Heather thought she looked like schoolteacher, save for her clothing, which consisted of khaki trousers, a khaki safari shirt, and brown leather boots that rose to her knees.

     “Are you Jack Benton?”

     “Look, I have no comments at this time.” Benton looked over the gray-headed woman and spoke to all of the reporters. “I’ll schedule a press conference for tomorrow. Right now, I’d like all of you to leave.”

     “But, Mr. Benton--”

     The gray-headed woman didn’t allow the reporter to finish his question before she interrupted.

     “Jack Benton?”

     The man sighed. “Yes, I’m Jack Benton. And you are?”

     “Lena Polston.”

     “Well, Ms. Polston--”

     “Mrs. It’s Mrs. Polston.”

     “Well, Mrs. Polston, you heard what I told the other reporters. I’ll hold a press conference tomorrow and--”

     “I’m not a reporter.”

     “Then who are you?”

     “My husband and I run a wild life refuge in Kings County.  We spent twenty years in Africa, studying and living amongst the animals native to that continent, while making documentary films. I can help you resolve this problem you have.”

     “In what way?”

     Mrs. Polston nodded toward the elephants. “I can provide these girls with a good home.”

     “I can’t just give them away. Do you know how much money I’ll lose if I do that?”

     “Yes, I do. The same amount you’ll lose if you have them shot.”

     Jack could see the reporters furiously recording every word Lena Polston was saying.  This situation was going from bad to worse, but in one respect the woman was correct.  Jack didn’t stand to lose any more by giving the elephants to her, than he did by having them shot. 

     “How can you afford to support them? Do you know how much four elephants eat?”

     The woman smiled. “Yes, Mr. Benton, I know how much four elephants eat. And how much veterinarian care costs for them, and the fact that they may live to be eighty years old. The financial support for my refuge comes from many sources.  Fund raisers. Donations. And financial backing that comes directly from various wild life federations. My husband and I specialize in rehabilitating animals that have performed in circuses and other similar venues.  We can give these girls what they need, and provide them with a good home.”

     “Just how did you hear about what they ‘need’?”

     Lena didn’t look at Heather. Though they hadn’t been introduced, she had surmised who the girl was. Lena had promised Heather on the phone that she wouldn’t reveal how she’d found out about Samara.  It wasn’t until Lena had arrived at the circus grounds, that she’d learned what had happened from patrons still lingering in the parking lot.  She’d hurried to locate Jack Benton, knowing what the fate of all four elephants would be if he wasn’t offered an alternative.

     “I was passing by, saw the commotion, and stopped.  Some people in the parking lot told me what was going on.”

     “I see,” Benton said, in a tone that made Heather wonder if he really believed Mrs. Polston or not.

     If Mr. Benton did think the woman was lying, he didn’t press her on the issue, which caused Heather to breathe an internal sigh of relief.

     “All right, let’s go to my office and talk. God knows I don’t need any more bad press than I’m already going to reap from this day. But the elephants have to be gone as soon as possible. By ‘as soon as possible’ I mean sometime tomorrow if it can be done.  We’re scheduled to pull out of here on Monday.  I’m canceling tomorrow’s show.  Whether we’ll leave on Monday or Tuesday, I don’t know yet.  A lot depends on what the police...and my lawyer, tell me I have to do in order to rectify the mess that occurred here today.”

     “I can take them tomorrow,” the woman agreed. “I’ll have to get some people to help, so it’ll be late in the day before I arrive, but I can do it.”

     “Good enough.”

     Mrs. Polston winked at Heather before turning to follow Jack Benton. The girl felt so grown up when Mr. Benton called over his shoulder, “Heather, I expect you to take care of those elephants until Mrs. Polston comes for them.”

     “I will!”

     The news people followed Jack Benton until he entered his trailer with Lena Polston. When they could see he wasn’t going to grant any of them an interview, they spread out, looking for others to give them their stories.

     The police officers disbursed, too, and Heather could see some of the fire trucks going by on the road.  She laid her head against Samara’s side and gave the animal a kiss. She looked at Kristof and smiled.

     “We did it, Kristof. We did it!”

     Pat folded his arms over his chest. “You did what?”

     The girl swallowed. In all the excitement over Lena Polston’s arrival, Heather had forgotten his presence.

     “Uh...um...we--”

     “Why we found the elephants, of course,” Kristof said. “Heather and I located the elephants, and Mr. Benton did not let the police shoot them, and now that woman will give them a home, so this is good, is it not, Pat?”

     “Yes,” Pat gave a slow nod. “Yes, it’s good.”

     The man wasn’t so foolish as to think Lena Polston’s appearance was a coincidence, but he wasn’t going to ask any questions, either.  For the sake of his job security, the less said the better, as far as Pat was concerned.

     “Dad, are Mom and Jay all right?”

     “They’re fine.” Pat waved a hand at Heather’s new charges. “You take care of your elephants, and then go to the trailer when you’re finished.  Mom is cooking supper. I’m going to help the men clean up as much of the mess as we can yet tonight.”

     “Okay.”

     Pat headed toward the Big Top with Kristof following him.  Heather knew this was Kristof’s way of telling her that she didn’t need him to help her, and that, if only for a little while, she was Jack Benton’s elephant trainer.

     As soon as Heather started walking, the elephants ambled after her. She didn’t want to think of parting with them tomorrow, most especially not with Samara, but for now she wouldn’t dwell on it.  For now, Heather was going to be thankful that she’d found her friend a home where Samara would be well-treated, and allowed to live out her life where she could roam free and never again have to perform before an audience.

     Heather reached up and patted the elephant’s trunk. When Samara slipped her trunk in Heather’s hand, Heather grasped it, and the two walked along like that until they came to the elephant compound outside Bhagi’s dark, silent trailer.

Chapter 18

     John DeSoto sat on the examination table in Treatment Room 3 with his shirt off. Doctor Early had listened to John’s heart and lungs, looked into his ears and nose, palpitated the child’s abdomen and rib cage, and checked his reflexes. The doctor then held up two fingers, then one finger, and then three fingers, each time asking John to tell him how many fingers he counted. When all proved to be as it should, the doctor removed the bandage that Brett had put on the boy’s head and looked at the gash that had stopped bleeding sometime before John arrived at Rampart.  So far, the only injuries Joe Early had noted on the child other than the head wound, were minor cuts and bruises.

     The doctor dipped a cotton swab in hydrogen peroxide and swabbed the wound. Roy stood next to the table, while Doctor Early asked John questions that would help him determine if the boy had suffered a more serious head injury than was readily apparent.

     “Did you fall asleep, John?”

     “Not since I went to bed at Uncle Johnny’s last night.”

     The doctor chuckled. “So you didn’t fall asleep after the board hit you on the head?”

     “Doctor Early, I didn’t have time to fall asleep. I had to run real fast to get my daddy so he could help Uncle Johnny.”

     “Well now, that does sound like an important reason to stay awake.”

     “It was.”

     The man put the cotton swab in the garbage, then pulled the edges of John’s wound together with a few butterfly strips, and put a fresh white bandage over his handiwork. Doctor Early took his penlight out of his pocket and checked the reaction of John’s pupils to the light.

     “Okay, young man, can you tell me your full name?”

     “You mean what Daddy calls me when I’m in trouble?”

     “That’s exactly what I mean.”

     “John Walker DeSoto.”

     “And what’s your brother’s name?”

     “Christopher. Only we call him Chris.”

     “And your sister’s name?”

     “Jennifer. Sometimes we call her Jenny.”

     The doctor put his penlight back in the pocket of his lab coat. He gently grasped John’s chin and held the boy’s head in place.

     “Follow my finger with your eyes, John, but don’t move your head.”

     “Are you gonna make it go in circles so I’m cross-eyed?”

     “I don’t plan to.  Do you want me to?”

     “It might be kinda funny.”

     “It sure might be, but how about if I just stick with my normal routine?”

     “Will Doctor Brackett get mad at you if you don’t?”

     “Mmmm. He just might be a little upset with me if you walk out of here cross-eyed.”

“In that case, whatever you wanna do is okay with me.”

     “Well thank you, Doctor DeSoto.”

     The boy giggled. “You’re welcome.”

     John’s eyes followed Doctor Early’s finger first up, then down, then side to side. 

     “John, what’s your favorite cartoon?”

     “That’s easy. Transformers. Do you like that one, Doctor Early?”

     Doctor Early chuckled as he released John’s chin and stepped back from the table. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen it.”

     “You should watch it sometime. It’s good.”

     “I’ll have to take your word on that. Okay, young man, one last question. When’s your birthday?”

     “It was last Wednesday. January sixteenth. I had three birthday parties.  At the first one, my friends, Josh,

Katie, Matthew, Corey, Nicole, Adam, and Jason were there. At the second one, my grandma Desoto, Grandma and Grandpa Stellman, and Aunt Eileen were there. And then Uncle Johnny came to my third one. Chris and Jenny were there, and my mom and--”

“Okay, John,” Roy said, “that’s enough.”

Joe Early smiled.  “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with your memory, John DeSoto.”

“Nope, there’s not. I remember stuff real good.”

“And repeats most of what he hears, too,” Roy intoned dryly.

Doctor Early looked at Roy.  “He’s fine, Roy. There’s no need for stitches, and you said he’s current with his tetanus vaccine, so I don’t foresee any problems. If he would complain of dizziness in the next forty-eight hours, or double vision, or have a bout of vomiting, then bring him right in.  Otherwise, just keep that head wound clean. In a week or two, you won’t be able to find any signs of it.”

“Thanks, Doctor Early.

“You’re welcome.” 

Joe patted John’s knee.

“John, you can put your shirt on and get out of here. After everything that happened today, I’d say you’re one very brave young man.”

“I cried at first.  When the people were stepping on Uncle Johnny, I was cryin’ ‘cause I wanted to help him, but he was on top of me so those people couldn’t step on me, too.  Uncle Johnny kept telling me it was gonna be okay, and that we’d go home soon. But then the bleachers started to fall, and Uncle Johnny pushed me out from underneath the tent.  He couldn’t get out, so I had to get help for him.” 

     “And you did a good job of it, too. I bet your dad is proud of you.”

     “I sure am,” Roy said, while he helped his son slip his camouflage shirt over his head.

There was a knock on the door, and then Dixie poked her head in.

“I have an anxious mother out here who would like to see a young man named John DeSoto.”

“Send her in, Dix,” Doctor Early instructed.

As Joanne stepped into the room to John’s joyous, “Mommy!” Dixie looked at Roy.

“You can see Johnny for a few minutes before he’s taken for the CT scan Doctor Brackett ordered.”

“Thanks, Dixie.”

Roy waited for his wife to finish hugging John, then lifted the boy off of the table.

“Do you mind taking him to the waiting room?” Roy asked Joanne. “I’ll meet you two there when I’m done talking to Johnny.”

“All right,” Joanne agreed. She took her son by the hand and looked down at him. “In the meantime, John can fill me in on what happened today.”

“Boy, Mom, do I have a heckuva lot to tell you, too.”

“I just bet you do.”

“Know what?”

“No. What?”

“Every minute with Uncle Johnny is like one giant adventure.”

“Believe me, John,” Joanne agreed, “your mom has learned that by now.”

The boy looked up at his father. “Tell Uncle Johnny I said hi, okay?”

“I’ll tell him.”

“And tell him I’ll see ‘bout gettin’ him that lady acrobat for a present.”

“The who?” Joanne questioned.

“Never mind,” Roy said. “Chalk it up to Johnny being Johnny, and don’t ask any more questions.”

The family parted ways in the hall. Joanne took John to the waiting area, while Roy entered Treatment Room 2.

__________________

     Dixie was with Johnny when Roy walked in. The woman looked up when the door opened.

     “Roy’s here, Johnny, so I’m going to the nurses’ station. He’ll stay with you until the orderlies arrive.”

     “All right. Thanks, Dix.”

     “You’re welcome. If I don’t see you before I go home, I’ll stop in and see you tomorrow if Doctor Brackett admits you tonight.”

     “Okay.”

     Roy glanced at his watch. Dixie’s shift should have ended several hours ago.

     “What are you still doing here?”

     “I was assisting Kel with a patient and wasn’t able to leave when I normally do. Then the incident at the circus happened, and we were told we might be receiving a large number of casualties, so I stuck around.

     “Did you get a lot of victims?”

     “Some, but Harbor General and Cambridge Medical Center took patients as well, so in the end it wasn’t as overwhelming as it could have been.  Other than our friend Johnny here, most of what we saw was minor. Sprained ankles, a few asthma attacks, some broken fingers, a couple of hysterical kids who were hyperventilating, along with an hysterical grandmother who was certain she was having a heart attack until Joe was able to assure her she wasn’t - things of that nature.”

     “Not as bad as it could have been then.”

     “No, not as bad it could have been, given the mob scene Johnny told me about.” 

     The woman headed for the door with Johnny’s folded clothing in one hand, and his tennis shoes in the other. She looked at Roy, while indicating to Johnny with a slight nod of her head.

“If you need me, I’ll be at the desk for another ten minutes or so. I’ll put these clothes and Johnny’s personal items in a bag. You can pick it up when you pass by.”

     “Okay. Thanks, Dix.”

     After Dixie left the room, Roy approached the examination table.  Johnny was still on the backboard, still had an IV of Ringers running to a vein, and was still wearing the C-collar. He was covered to mid-chest with a sheet. Dixie had cleaned his face as best she could, but all the care in the world couldn’t take away the black eye and bruises.  They would have to heal in their own time, as would his split lower lip.

“So, what’s the good word?”

     Johnny’s eyes searched his friend out. His voice was a little stronger now, and he didn’t seem to be fighting as much pain while he talked. Roy assumed both of those things meant Brackett had determined Johnny hadn’t suffered a concussion, and had therefore given him some sort of pain reliever.

“The good word is, I’m not paralyzed.  That’s about all I know right now, though. I’ve had enough X-rays to make me glow in the dark, but Brackett hasn’t said much about them yet. He was gonna consult with Doctor Early on them, and with some orthopedic surgeon...don’t remember what he said the guy’s name was.” 

“Is Brackett gonna see you later?”

     “Yeah. After the CT scan is done, which I hope is soon, ‘cause I’d like to get off this backboard and get rid of this damn collar.”

     “It won’t be that much longer,” Roy assured, though in truth, he had no idea how long it might be before Johnny was more comfortable than he was at the moment.

     “How’s John?”

     “Fine. Doctor Early looked at him. Doesn’t even need stitches.”

     “Good.”

     “Johnny...thanks. Thanks a lot for taking care of John, and for getting him out of that tent before the bleachers--”

     “You’d better not thank me before you hear what I did.”

     “What you did?”

     “Yeah. I mean, since you’re already pissed at me, I might as well tell you that I bought John a hotdog, bought him some useless trinkets, and let him have a soda.  I didn’t let him climb the trapeze, though.”

     Roy smiled. “Thanks.”

     “Thanks?”

     “Yeah. Thanks. I’m sure you made John’s day.”

     “He was havin’ a good time...up until the end, a’ course.”

     “I don’t think anyone had a good time at the end.”

     “Yeah, I coulda’ done without it.”

     “I’m sure you could have.”

     “The elephant trainer...did I hear someone say he was dead?”

     “Yeah. It looked like the tent’s main support pole hit him in the back of the head when it fell.”

     “He was abusing that animal.”

     “One of the elephants?”

     “Yeah.”

     “Did you see him do it?”

     “No, but by the way she was acting in the ring, I’m pretty certain he was.”

     “I’m sure there’ll be an investigation.  It will all come out, if that was the case.”

     “Yeah. Probably.”

     The men fell silent for a moment. When the quiet was broken, it was Johnny who spoke.

     “Roy?”

     “Yeah?”

     “About this thing with Chris, I--”

     “We’ll talk about it later.”

     “But--”

     “Later, Johnny. We’ll talk about it when you’re feeling better, and when you can turn your head and look at me.”

     “And when I can stand up.”

     “If that’s the way you want it.”

     “I hate having conversations when I’m staring at the ceiling ‘cause I’m strapped to a backboard. Puts me at a psychological disadvantage.”

     “You’re always at a psychological disadvantage.”

     “Even if I was in the mood to laugh, that doesn’t strike me as funny.”

     “It doesn’t, huh?”

     “No.”

     As the door opened and two orderlies pushing a gurney entered, Roy laid a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

     “I’d better get out of here. I’ll pick up your stuff from Dix, and then wait until Doctor Brackett can tell me if he’s keeping you overnight, or if he’s releasing you.”

     “You don’t have to wait around. Take John and go home.”

     “No, we’ll stay.  Joanne’s here now, so we’ll get something to eat while we wait.”

     “All right. But if you change your mind, go on. If Brackett releases me, I can call someone and get a ride home.”

     “I’m sure you can, but as long as we’re here, it seems kind of foolish for you to have to do that.”

     “Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve accused me of bein’ foolish.”

     “No, and it probably won’t be the last,” were Roy’s final words as he departed the room.

     Johnny was moved to the gurney, and within seconds was on his way to have the CT scan Kelly Brackett had ordered.                  

__________________

     John DeSoto was sleeping in his father’s arms at a cafeteria table, when Doctor Brackett located Roy and Joanne much later that evening. The family had eaten, and Joanne had called Chris at work, and Jennifer at the home where she was baby-sitting, to tell them what had happened. She didn’t want them seeing the story of the rampage on the news, and then worrying when they couldn’t reach her. The woman had assured her older children that John was fine, then told them Johnny had been injured, and that she and their father were waiting at Rampart for word on his condition.

Doctor Brackett greeted Roy and Joanne. Roy indicated to the empty chair on his right.

“Doc, have a seat. Can we buy you dinner?”

     “No, but thanks for the offer.”

     The doctor smiled at the sleeping boy. “I see John’s none the worse for wear after his big day.”

Roy’s eyes dropped to his son’s face. The boy was sleeping so soundly that Roy doubted he’d wake up when he was carried to the car, nor when he was carried from the car, to the house, to his bed.

“No, he doesn’t appear to be, but that’s our John.” Roy brought his gaze back to Kelly Brackett. “What about the other John who was involved in this big day?”

     “When I tell you he’s bruised from head to toe, I’m not lying.”

     Roy nodded. “I saw.”

     “Along with the bruises, Johnny has three cracked ribs, a gash on the back of his head that took fifteen stitches to close, and a lumbar fracture.”

     “Where?”

     “L-5.”

     Joanne stopped the men. “What’s that mean?”

     “It means a vertebra in his lower back is broken,” the doctor explained.  “Johnny thinks it happened while he was being trampled.”

     “Is the fracture stable?” Roy questioned.

     “It appears so.  I had Joe Early examine Johnny and look at the test results, and had Cliff Anderson - an orthopedic surgeon, do the same. We can’t find indications of spinal cord damage or nerve damage, but there are some tests Joe wants to do in the morning just to be on the safe side.”

     “Does this fracture mean surgery?” Joanne asked.

     “Not at this time.  Unless Doctor Early finds more damage than what we’ve uncovered so far, surgery won’t be necessary if Johnny follows the regime he’ll be given before he leaves here.”

     “What will that be?”

     “No strenuous exercise or heavy physical labor during his recovery period, which will last four to six weeks, and then going easy on strenuous activity for several months afterward. We’re going to fit him with a back brace tomorrow. When he’s had a chance to recover a bit, he’ll undergo physical therapy as an outpatient, and have exercises to do at home as well. Along with that, he’ll be instructed to walk two or three miles a day.”

     “So, he’ll be all right given time?”   

     “Yes, Joanne, he should be all right given time,” Brackett confirmed. “Between the bruises, his ribs, and the back injury, Johnny will be uncomfortable for the next couple of weeks, but if I know him, he’ll be complaining about the brace an hour after they put it on him.”

     “You know him,” Roy said dryly. “You’re keeping him overnight then.”

     “Yes. He’s had something to eat, and he’s been given a sedative that should allow him to sleep through the night relatively pain free.”

     “How long will he have to stay?”

     “If the results from the tests Joe wants done indicate no complications, then Johnny can go home after he’s fitted with the brace. I’m on duty tomorrow, so give me a call around one o’clock. I should be able to tell you by then if I’m releasing him.”

     “All right.”

     “Can we see him for just a minute before we leave?” Joanne asked.

     “He’s probably asleep by now.”

     “Oh, okay. We’ll wait until tomorrow then.”

     “That would be best,” the doctor told Roy’s wife. “Besides, it’s late, and I’m willing to bet the two of you would like to be sleeping just as soundly as young John is there.”

     “I’m about ready for that,” Roy agreed, considering it was a few minutes after eleven.  Without disturbing John’s slumber, Roy stood. “Thanks for comin’ to talk to us, Doctor Brackett. I know you were ready to call it a day hours ago, too.”

     “Well, Roy, as is true of your job and mine both, it comes with the territory sometimes.”

Joanne smiled and spoke before her husband had the chance to. “It sure does.”

The woman picked up the bag that held Johnny’s clothes, shoes, watch, wallet, pocketknife, and loose change, and carried it as she walked beside the men.  Doctor Brackett bid the DeSotos a final goodbye as he turned down the corridor that would take him to his office.  Roy and Joanne continued walking to the exit.  When they arrived at Joanne’s car, she unlocked the rear passenger door. Roy bent inside the vehicle and propped John up on the seat. The boy awoke as Roy was fastening his seat belt. He was groggy, and his heavy eyelids blinked slowly with exhaustion. When he spoke, Roy had to listen hard to decipher his slow, mumbled words.

“Daddy, I sure had fun with Uncle Johnny today.”

“You did, huh?”

“Yeah. And he took good care a’ me, too, when all those people were steppin’ on him.”

As John slipped into slumber again, Roy placed a light kiss on his forehead and murmured, “I know he did, John. And Daddy’s grateful for that.”

Roy stood and got in the passenger side of the car. Joanne drove to Station 26, where Roy picked up his Porsche.  He followed his wife home, and carried John to his bedroom. When Joanne insisted that Roy go to bed, too, he didn’t argue with her. 

“I’ll get John’s pajamas on him, and then stay up and wait for Mr. Owens to drop Jennifer off,” Joanne said. “She should be home within thirty minutes.”

“Which is thirty minutes longer than I’m going to be awake.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Roy kissed his wife, and then made his way down the hall to the master bedroom. He didn’t hear Jennifer come in when the teen arrived from her baby-sitting job, nor did he hear Chris come home ten minutes after that. Roy also slept through the conversation his teenagers had with Joanne at the kitchen table regarding Johnny’s condition, and the events that had happened at the Benton Brothers Circus.

Roy had woken that morning with a lot of concerns regarding his oldest son, and a good deal of anger aimed at his best friend. Now he slept soundly due to the fact that his youngest son was safe thanks to John Gage, which proved to Roy that life is indeed, full of contradictions.

Chapter 19

     Joanne was still sleeping on Sunday morning when Roy put his bathrobe on over his pajama bottoms, and shoved his feet into his slippers. He exited the bedroom, quietly closing the door behind him.

     Roy poked his head into Chris’s room.  The door was open, but there was no sign of his oldest son.  The bed was made, and there was nothing out of place, which indicated to Roy that Chris had been up for a while.

     Jennifer’s bedroom door was still closed as Roy passed by, as was John’s. It was six-thirty. Roy knew his youngest would be up by seven, and then the Sunday morning quiet would be a thing of the past.

     Chris was putting a cereal bowl, small plate, and spoon in the dishwasher. Roy’s heart beat a little faster when he took note that his son was wearing a jacket, had his tennis shoes on, and had a packed gym bag and backpack setting on the counter top.

Roy’s greeting was quiet, and just a little uncertain.

“Morning, Chris.”

Chris shut the dishwasher’s door, straightened, and gave his dad a hesitant smile. Though father and son had brokered a truce on Friday evening, this was the first time they’d been together since Roy was forced to accept Chris’s career choice.

 “Hi. I started coffee if you want some.”

“Thanks. You ate already?”

“Yeah. Had some cereal and toast.”

“You don’t work today, do you?”

Roy already knew the answer to that question. Bill Mattson’s business wasn’t open on Sundays.  However, Roy thought this was the easiest way to get some answers from Chris regarding where he was going.

 “No, I’m not working. I’m gonna stay at Uncle Johnny’s for a while.”

Roy hesitated a long moment before saying, “Oh. I see.”

You have no one to blame but yourself for this, Roy. You pushed Chris into doing this when you wouldn’t give him your support...when you didn’t tell him that his choice of careers is exactly that – his choice, not yours.

“Mom told me that Johnny has a fractured vertebra and some cracked ribs, so I know he won’t be able to do much for a while. Someone has to take care of the animals until he can get around better, and he’ll probably need help walking the first few days he’s home, so I thought I’d stay with him until he’s doing okay on his own.”

“That’s all?”

“What’s all?”

“That’s the only reason?”

“Yeah. What other reason would there be?”

“Um...none, I guess,” Roy smiled. “None at all.”

     “I was going to leave you and Mom a note, but as long as you’re up, would you let her know where I am?”

     “Sure. If we find out Johnny’s being released today, then I’m guessing your mother will cook a week’s worth of food and bring it to you to put in Johnny’s refrigerator.”

     Chris chuckled. “I’m sure she will.”

     “If Johnny’s not released, I’ll call you and let you know.  If he is, then you’ll see us sometime this afternoon.”

     “All right.”

     “Oh, and we’ll have to get Johnny’s Land Rover from the circus grounds sometime today, too.”

     “That’s fine,” Chris said. “Just give me a call at Johnny’s and let me know what time you wanna do that.”

     “Okay.”

     Roy watched as Chris threw his backpack over one shoulder, and his gym bag over the other. Suddenly, any remnants of the boy who had been Christopher DeSoto were gone, and had finally been replaced by a man in Roy’s eyes.  A man who had taken it upon himself to assist Johnny these next few weeks, and a man who was certainly capable of deciding what he wanted to do with his life, even though Roy still harbored hope Chris would yet change his mind and return to college.

     Despite that hope, Roy reached out and pulled his oldest child into his arms. He hugged the young man and said softly, “I’m proud of you, Chris.”

     Roy was hugged in return, and heard Chris’s own soft words of, “Thanks, Dad. It means a lot to hear you say that.”

     As Chris headed toward the door in the laundry room that led to the garage, Roy said, “Chris?”

     Chris turned around. “Yeah?”

     “You’ll be back, right?”

     Chris smiled and nodded. “Yeah, Dad, I’ll be back.”

     Roy stood in the middle of the kitchen staring after his son, until Chris entered the garage and closed the door behind him.  Sometimes, as a parent, you wished your children would never grow up. As Roy watched his oldest spread his wings and begin to fly, this was one of those times when he wished he could have kept Chris a little boy forever.

     Roy was lost in nostalgia, and heavily mired in melancholy, as he poured his first cup of coffee.  He heard a loud, “Rooooar! I’m a lion at the circus!” The pictures on the wall shook as John’s running feet pounded against the floor.  

     John danced around the room while opening every cabinet in an attempt to decide what he wanted for breakfast.  He kept up a steady stream of conversation with his soft-spoken father, and paid no attention to the fact that he was doing ninety-five percent of the talking.

     Roy shook his head and smiled at his lively youngest. This time his thoughts were the opposite of what they’d been a few minutes earlier.

And sometimes, as a parent, you don’t think your kids can grow up fast enough.

Upon having those thoughts, Roy Desoto was once again reminded that life is full of contradictions. 

Maybe the older your kids get, the more you have to learn to roll with the punches. The man put a bowl of Cheerios in front of John and tousled the boy’s hair. Maybe Daddy just has to learn to roll with the punches.

While Roy sat and ate breakfast with his youngest child that morning, he thought back to all the mornings when he’d done the same with Chris and Jennifer. 

When Joanne and Jennifer joined Roy and John at the table, Joanne wasn’t sure why her husband was smiling, but she didn’t ask either. She kissed the bald spot on the back of his head as she passed by on her way to the coffee pot. She was glad to see Roy’s demeanor had changed for the better. Not even Jennifer’s mention of wanting to date Brad Hall could completely erase Roy’s smile.

“So, does that mean yes?”

Roy looked at his daughter over the rim of his coffee cup. 

“Does what mean yes?”

“Does your smile mean I can go out with Brad?”

“No, that’s not what it means.”

“Daaaaad!”

Roy stood to put his cup and empty plate in the dishwasher. He paused on his way to the kitchen and kissed Jennifer’s forehead.

“My smile means that your dad is remembering when you were a little girl.”

“And what does that have to do with Brad Hall?”

Roy’s smile broadened to a grin. “That’s the beauty of it, Jennifer.  Nothing.  It has absolutely nothing to do with Brad Hall.”

Roy ignored his daughter’s second rendition of her drawn out, whiney, “Daaaad!” as he headed to the master bathroom to shower and shave.  The nice thing about being wrapped in nostalgia was that you could close the bathroom door and keep that nostalgia with you for as long as the hot water lasted.

Chapter 20

     Roy strolled into Rampart at three o’clock on Sunday afternoon. Like he had predicted to Chris, Joanne had spent the morning cooking. At the same time Roy had left for Rampart, Joanne, Jennifer, and John had left for Johnny’s ranch, where Joanne said they’d clean what needed cleaning, wash what needed washing, put away what needed putting away, and have supper on the table at six.

Roy carried the same bag Dixie had handed him the evening before.  Joanne had washed Johnny’s clothes, and had put a shirt of Roy’s in the bag for Johnny to wear, since his shirt had been cut off at the scene by Brett.

     Roy stopped at the ER nurses’ desk and got Johnny’s room number from Dixie.

     “I suppose he’s ready to go.”

     Dixie snorted. “Ready to go? I’m surprised he hasn’t walked out of here by himself, and I’m surprised Kel hasn’t let him.”

Roy smiled.  “He’s been complaining about the back brace, huh?”

“Non-stop since they put it on him.”

“How long do you give him before he’s not wearing it any more?”

“Longer than I would have if Joe hadn’t laid it on the line to Johnny a little while ago.”

“Laid it on the line?”

“He told Johnny he’s fortunate not to need surgery, but that if he does something foolish, like take that brace off for more than showering during the next four weeks, then he might be facing surgery yet.”

“Guess I’d better go collect him and take him home.”

“The nurses on the fourth floor will be eternally grateful to you.”

Roy chuckled. “All right. I’ll see how quickly I can get him out of their hair.”

The captain gave Dixie a wave and a, “See ya,’ Dix,” as he headed for the elevator.

When Roy entered Johnny’s room five minutes later, he did a double take.  His friend was dressed in blue jeans, socks, tennis shoes, and a denim shirt.  He was sitting in a chair reading the newspaper with the erect bearing of a general about to map out a new D-day strategy for his subordinates.  Roy couldn’t see the brace, since it worn under the patient’s shirt. For all Johnny’s reported complaining, Roy also knew it was nothing like the corset-style back braces that were used some years earlier.  It was light weight, easy to get on and off, and fairly comfortable...though Roy supposed Johnny would argue that last point, which was exactly why Roy had no intention of mentioning it.

The blue, black, and molten red bruises on Johnny’s face were out in full force today, and his blackened left eye was swollen halfway shut.  If Johnny’s erect bearing made him look like a general, then his bruises made him look like a soldier who’d fought the fiercest battle of the war...and lost.

Roy let the door swing shut behind him, while stating the obvious.  “You’re dressed.”

“Usually I am by three o’clock in the afternoon.”

Roy held up the bag he carried. “What I mean is, I have your clothes in here. Joanne washed ‘em and sent along one of my shirts for you.”

“Which shirt?”

“Which shirt?”

“Yeah. Which shirt?”

Roy opened the bag and looked inside. “My green one with the yellow stripes.”

“I don’t like that shirt. The colors are all wrong for me. It would make me look like a parrot.”

“A parrot?”

“Yeah. And in my opinion, it doesn’t look so hot on you, either.”

“What do you mean it doesn’t look...” Roy let his sentence trail off, as he realized that John Gage had once again led him down the path of absurdity.

“Obviously, it doesn’t matter,” Roy said as he closed the bag.  “Looks like someone brought you some clothes.”

“Chris.”

“Oh. He stopped by?”

“Yeah, he was here around noon. I’m supposed to tell you that there’s no need to worry about getting my Rover home. Chris and Dean were takin’ care of it for me after Chris left here.”

The ‘Dean’ Johnny was referring to was Chris’s closest friend.

“That was nice of them.”

“Sure was.” Johnny folded his newspaper and set it in his lap, since reaching for the bedside table would be too painful from his current position. He paused a moment, before looking Roy in the eye and saying, “He’s a good boy, Roy.  A good man.”

“I know.”

“I...I realize you’re disappointed about his decision to drop out of college, and I’m sorry about that. I really am.

But--”

Roy held up his hand. “We’ve been over all of this enough, wouldn’t ya’ say?”

Johnny sized his friend up, but was still left uncertain as to what Roy was thinking.

“Depends on what you say, I guess.”

“Then I say we’ve been over it enough. Chris and me. You and me and Chris.  You and me. Any way you look at it, we’ve talked it out.”

“So...you’re okay with his decision?”

“No, I’m not okay with his decision, Johnny, but thanks to something you said to me on Thursday afternoon, I’ve come to accept it.”

“What’d I say?”

“You reminded me of the importance of being able to hug my kids.”

Johnny hesitated before giving a small nod.

Roy waited a moment, but when his friend didn’t speak, he said, “And listen, I’m sorry for calling you a hotdog. I didn’t mean that.”

Johnny fought to keep from smiling. “Maybe not even a little bit?”

Roy caught the twinkle in the man’s eyes. “Well...maybe just a little bit.”

“That’s okay. In my younger days, I could be a cocky son of a bitch...and a hotdog, when I wanted to be.”

Roy laughed. “In your younger days?”

“Yeah, in my younger days.”

Roy let the subject drop there. He wasn’t going to debate this one with Johnny, or they’d be here all afternoon.

“And I know I said I didn’t want you to be Chris’s instructor, but--”

Johnny grinned as much as his sore face would allow. “But you know he won’t have a better teacher than me.”

“Something like that. And by the way, you still are a cocky son of a bitch.”

Roy left the room to get a wheelchair before his friend could respond.  When he returned, he pushed the chair next to the one Johnny was seated in and set the brake.

“Ready to go?”

“You bet.”

“Do you have any paperwork to sign?”

“No. One of the nurses brought it to me about twenty minutes before you got here.”

“Mmmm. They must be anxious to get rid of you.”

“Seem to be. I don’t know why though.”

Roy turned away a brief second so Johnny wouldn’t see his smile, then took the newspaper from the man’s lap. He helped Johnny stand and make the transfer from the stationary chair to the wheelchair. The paramedic chief grimaced at the movement.

“Is your back bothering you?”

“Yeah. It hurts worse after I’ve been sitting for a while, believe it or not.”

“I believe it,” Roy said. Back injuries were a double-edged sword.  It hurt to move, but the more you sat, the more stiff and inflamed your muscles became, which was why the physical therapists would have Johnny taking a daily walk as soon as it was feasible. “Do you need to stop at a pharmacy and get anything filled?”

“No.” Johnny patted his shirt pocket, where a bottle of pills resided. “Dixie got the pain killer for me that Brackett prescribed, so I’m all set.”     

Roy held up the newspaper. “You want me to throw this away, or do want it in the bag with your clothes?”

“In the bag with my clothes. Doctor Early brought it to me. It’s got all the coverage in it on what happened at the circus. Have you seen it yet?”

     “I read it this morning.” Roy put the newspaper in the bag, then set the bag in Johnny’s lap.  “What a mess, huh?”

     “Yeah,” Johnny agreed. He knew his friend was referring to the allegations of animal abuse by the elephant trainer, the trainer’s death, the stampede by elephants and humans, and all the carnage that had followed. “I bet lawyers will be sniffing around soon, trying to instigate lawsuits.”

     “I’m sure of it,” Roy said.  “Oh, and speaking of the circus, when John sees you in a little while, he plans to tell you that he wants to go to the circus again for his birthday next year, but that he wants to wait until all the people leave before you two get out of your seats.”

     Johnny chuckled. “My namesake is one smart little guy.”

     Roy nodded as he thought of what John had done the previous day in order to get help to Johnny.  “Yes, he is.”

     “Must take after his mother,” Johnny teased.

     “I’m sure Joanne would tell you that’s the case.”

     Before Roy walked to the back of the wheelchair, he crouched in front of his friend and laid a hand on Johnny’s knee.

     “Thanks for taking care of John yesterday.”

     “You already thanked me.”

     “I know, but at the time you were on a backboard and couldn’t turn your head to look at me, so now I’m thanking you again.”

     “You don’t need to.”

     “Yes, I do. So just say you’re welcome, all right?”

     “You’re welcome.”

     “And now I want you to make me a promise.”

     “Anything,” Johnny said, without inquiring first as to what type of promise Roy was going to extract from him.

     “You took care of my youngest son for me yesterday, now I’m asking that you take care of my oldest son.  There are a lotta reasons why I’d rather see Chris go into almost any other line of work but ours, and first and foremost is because I don’t want to see him injured in the line of duty.  I worry about that a lot, Johnny. I know you won’t always be the person Chris reports to, but while you are...during the time period he’s training in the field with you, take care of him for me, okay?  Promise you’ll take care of him.”

     “I promise, Roy. I won’t let anything happen to Chris. I promise I won’t.”

     Roy nodded. “Fair enough.”

     The man stood and walked around to the back of the wheelchair. He released the brake, grasped the handles, and pushed the chair toward the door.  It wouldn’t be until much later that Roy would realize he never should have requested that Johnny promise to keep Chris safe, and Johnny should have never vowed that he would.  But because neither man had the power to see into the future, they didn’t know on this day in mid-January of 1985, how that promise would eventually destroy their friendship for a longer period of time than either could have imagined possible given how close they were.

     Because Roy couldn’t see into the future, he smiled as he opened the door.

“Whatta ya’ say we head to your place where my wife has a pot roast cooking for us, and has your refrigerator stocked with enough food to last you and Chris the rest of the month?”

     “I’d say that sounds good.”

     Roy pushed the wheelchair to the elevator. He pressed the button that had an arrow pointing down, and when the doors slid open turned around and backed the wheelchair into the car.

     Roy had known it would be difficult for Johnny to get into his low-slung Porsche, so had left it at home. Instead, he’d brought the station wagon he’d bought used from a guy at Station 44 shortly after John was born. It took a little work on the parts of both men to get Johnny into the vehicle and seated so the ride would be fairly comfortable for him, but by working together they managed to do so.

After Roy got Johnny settled, he took the wheelchair back to the lobby. When Roy climbed into the vehicle, Johnny’s voice caused him to pause in the act of putting the key into the ignition.

“Hey, Roy?”

“What?”

“Thanks.”

Roy looked at his friend.  “For what?”

“Well, I could say for picking me up today and taking me home.  Or I could say for your wife making sure Chris and I will eat like kings for the next few weeks. Or I could say for raising a good kid who took it upon himself to take care of my animals this morning, and has volunteered to help me out until I’m gettin’ around better, but I guess what I really mean is...just thanks in general, ya’ know?”

Roy smiled. “Yeah, I know.”

Johnny waved a hand at the ignition. “Now go on and get us outta here.”

“Anxious to get home and grade those final exams your students took on Friday, are you?”

“Well, you know what they say.”

“What’s that?”

“Regardless of what’s happened, the show must go on.”

“Something you learned at the circus yesterday?”

Johnny chuckled. “Yeah, something I learned at the circus yesterday.”

Roy started the vehicle, looked over his shoulder, and then backed the station wagon out of the parking space.

     The two men talked the talk of old friends on the drive out to Johnny’s ranch.  It felt good to Roy...it felt right, as though this friendship was meant to last a lifetime.

     And in so many ways, it would last a lifetime, despite the horrific tragedy that lay ahead for both men. From that tragedy John Gage and Roy Desoto would ultimately learn just how strong their friendship was. It would take them fifteen long years of estrangement to find that out, but in the end, they would come together again and call one other “friend,” for the rest of their days, in every way that one simple word can encompass. 

Chapter 21

Heather spent the day with Samara and the other elephants.  Her mother didn’t know if that was a good idea.  She’d told Heather she was afraid Heather would get “too attached.”

“Mom, they’re my friends,” Heather had said in return. “I already am attached. I don’t have a choice now.  I have to do this for them.”

“Do what?

“Be...be with them until Mrs. Polston takes them away.  I have to be with them and make them understand that they’re going to a good place. A place where no one will hurt Samara again, or make them perform.”

     Heather’s mother said she didn’t see how Heather could make the elephants understand such things. After all, they were just...elephants. But when Heather’s father didn’t say anything other than, “Let Heather do what she thinks is best, Lynette,” the girl knew her father finally comprehended the bond she shared with the big mammals.

     When the massive trucks arrived at six o’clock that would take the elephants to their new home, Heather watched as they lumbered into the parking lot.  Lena Polston followed in her Ford Bronco.  The woman first spoke with Jack Benton, then sought out Heather.

     “Can you bring them one by one to the trucks, Heather?”

     “Yes.”

     It didn’t surprise Lena to see Heather leave Samara until last. The loading process took time. It was long after dark, and the other trucks had left for Lena’s refuge, before it was finally Samara’s turn.

     “She has a sister named Sakari,” Heather told Lena as they walked along beside Samara, the overhead floodlights illuminating the way. “Bhagi sold her to a zoo, but I don’t know which one. He had to in order to pay off the money he owed from gambling. That’s when Samara got really sad and wouldn’t perform anymore.  I...do you think you could find Sakari, Mrs. Polston, and put her on your refuge, too?”

     “I don’t know, Heather. It’s doubtful, but I can try.” The woman ran a hand over Heather’s hair. “I know of a situation where two elephants who had preformed together for a decade, and were then separated, were reunited after twenty years apart. They still knew one another even after all that time, and greeted each other like old friends. Maybe that will happen someday with Samara and Sakari, even if it doesn’t happen soon.”

     Heather smiled at the woman. “I’d like to hope it’ll happen.”

     “Believe me, Heather, there’s nothing wrong with hoping.”

     “Mrs. Polston, do you think I could run a wild life refuge when I’m grown up, just like you do?”

     “Given the knowledge you have from your years with the circus, I’m sure you can.”

     “I know it would cost a lot, but somehow I’ll make it work.”

     “I learned one thing a long time ago, Heather, that I’ll pass onto you.”

     “What’s that?”

     “If you want something badly enough, you can make it work. It won’t always be easy, but determination and desire go a long way in making our dreams come true.”

     “I’ll remember that.”

     The girl dug into the front pocket of her blue jeans. She handed Lena four folded twenty-dollar bills.

     “I want you to take this.”

     “Why?”

     “To put toward caring for Samara and the other girls. I know it’s not a lot considering how much they eat, but maybe it will help a little bit, huh?”

     “Every little bit helps, but I can’t take your money, sweetheart.”

     “Yes you can.  I worked for it, so I can do what I want with it. I asked my dad if I could give it to you, and he said it was all right.”

     “Are you sure?”

     “I’m sure.”

     “Thank you.”

     “No, thank you for coming to get Samara, and then for taking Madri, Chanda, and Kamala, too.  And thanks for not telling Mr. Benton that I called you.  I wanted to help Samara, but at the same time, I didn’t want my dad to lose his job.”

     Lena winked at the girl.  “Your secret will always be safe with me.” 

     As they reached the truck Samara would be loaded on, Lena said, “Heather, when you’re a little older, you give me a call. If you want to experience working on my sanctuary, and if you want to find out first hand if running a refuge really is what you’d like to do, then I’d love to teach you everything I know.”

     “Really? You mean that?”

     “I sure do.”

     Heather turned to Samara. “Did you hear that Samara? In a few years, you and I can be together again every day.”

     Samara gently brushed her trunk along the girl’s face, as if she’d understood every word that had been said. Though Heather was happy over the prospect of being reunited with her friend someday, she knew that the time had come for them to part ways for now. Heather buried her face in the elephant’s side and allowed her tears to flow.  Mrs. Polston and the men who were helping her stepped back so this could be a private goodbye.

     The girl lifted her face and looked Samara in the eye. She ran a hand over a big floppy ear and said softly, “I love you. You’re my best friend, and you always will be.  Some people think that’s weird, but I don’t care. You’ll be happy on Mrs. Polston’s refuge. I promise you will be.  Maybe someday you’ll even see Sakari again. If Mrs. Polston can’t find her and bring her to you, then when I’m older, I’ll try and find her.”

     Again, the elephant brushed her trunk over Heather’s face. In that one gesture Heather knew Samara was telling her that she understood, and that she appreciated all Heather had done for her.

     Heather assisted with getting Samara on the truck. She gave the elephant a final kiss and heartfelt goodbye, before climbing off so the thick, steel door could be secured.

     Heather hugged Mrs. Polston and thanked her one last time.  She stood in the parking lot, watching as the big truck and the Bronco prepared to depart.

     Mrs. Polston drove out of the gate first, with the truck driver following behind her.  The thick walls of the cargo vehicle prevented Heather from seeing all but the very top of Samara’s body, where it was visible through the four feet of open space for ventilation.  Heather smiled when she saw Samara’s trunk poke through the space.  It moved up and down until the truck was out of sight, as though the elephant was waving goodbye.  Heather waved goodbye in return, then dropped her hand and wiped at the tears running down her cheeks. 

     As Heather turned to head for her family’s trailer, she was secure in the knowledge that she’d see Samara again some day, and secure in the knowledge of what she was going to be when she grew up. And for a change, she wouldn’t even mind if Jay called her “elephant girl.” 

As a matter of fact, from now on, Heather would think of it as a compliment.

Chapter 22

     On Monday, February 18^th, Johnny stood in front of his new group of students.  Chris had moved back home after two and a half weeks of assisting on Johnny’s ranch.  By then, Johnny was getting around on his own fairly well.  When something came up that he physically couldn’t do yet, Johnny was able to get help from his neighbor, Bob Emery.

     Johnny still had to wear the hated brace, though he hoped to be rid of it sometime that week.  He was undergoing physical therapy, and was diligent about doing the exercises he’d been shown, and pursing the walking program his therapist had mapped out for him.  Johnny didn’t want his ability to remain an active duty paramedic to be jeopardized, and besides, he’d heard of too many guys who had been forced to retire early because of old back injuries that cropped up again as they aged. Doctor Early had told Johnny that if he did what he was told to in these early days after the injury, then that would go a long way in preventing problems as he grew older.

     Other than the fact that he was standing straight and tall behind his desk, Johnny knew no other signs of his injuries were visible to his students. The bruises had faded, the black eye was gone, and his split lip had healed. Fortunately, neither John Gage nor John DeSoto bore any scars from their experience. Young John hadn’t even suffered a bad dream as a result of the trauma, which Joanne and Roy found remarkable. Johnny had always known Roy’s youngest was gusty...far more gusty than Roy wanted him to be at times, so this news didn’t surprise Johnny at all.  He was glad John’s personality allowed him to look at the positives – he had gotten out of the tent and gotten help for his uncle Johnny.  John had focused on that, and because of reinforcement from Roy, Joanne, and Johnny, regarding what a brave thing John had done, the boy seemed to take the rest of the tragedy in stride.  He was already begging Johnny to take him to the circus for his next birthday, as Roy had said he would, and Johnny had promised John they’d go.

     Johnny glanced from the attendance book on his desk, to the fresh-faced students before him. For a moment, he allowed his mind to drift back thirteen years to when he was one of those fresh faced students, and a guy who looked an awful lot like Chris DeSoto, had assisted in teaching Johnny much of what he knew today.

     Johnny began the day by taking attendance.  When he was finished, he said, “All right. Let’s get started.  When you picked up your textbooks last week, you were to read the handout the department gave you on the history of the paramedic program. Uh...” Johnny looked down at his attendance book as though every name in it was brand new to him. “Uh...Mr. DeSoto?” 

From the middle seat in the third row, Chris put two fingers in the air. “Right here, Chief.”

Johnny made eye contact with the young man, but nothing about his demeanor would indicate he had known this particular student since the boy was five. Unless, of course, you were that boy, and therefore caught the slight twinkle in your instructor’s eye, as though a private joke was about to be played out.

“Can you summarize what that handout said for the rest of the class, please, in the event we have someone here who didn’t complete this very difficult and time consuming first assignment.” 

The class chuckled. When the group had quieted, Chris answered with a dutiful, “Yes, Chief Gage.”

Chris began to recite from memory, the history of the Los Angeles County paramedic program.  He didn’t have to refer to his handout even once, because after all, his father and his ‘uncle’ had been a part of that history. Now Chris wanted to be a part of it too, and he was determined to make his father proud by graduating first in his class.

     When Chris was finished, Johnny said, “Thank you, Mr. DeSoto. It’s obvious you know your stuff.”

     Chris shot Johnny a small smile. “That’s because I learned from the best.”

     Johnny nodded, and for just a moment, no other students were present. “That you did, Mr. DeSoto,” Johnny said, his words making reference solely to Roy. “That you did.”

     The paramedic chief broke his gaze from Chris and took in his entire class.

“All right, folks, let’s get started. I’m John Gage, and no matter what you’ve heard about me, none of it is true.”

     Johnny’s class laughed, and so began a new session with young, eager students who would come to look upon John Gage as teacher, mentor, and friend.

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Author’s Notes and Thanks: 

     If you have enjoyed stories in the Dances With Rattlesnakes series, then please watch for another ‘Dances’ story to be posted in 2003.

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The inspiration for this story came when I read an article regarding how circus children are educated as they travel. That aspect of circus life never did come into strong focus in The Show Must Go On, but other aspects did. When I first started writing this story, I had no strong feelings one way or another about performing animals. The more reading I did on the subject, the more I learned. As is often the case, there are two sides to every story, and people struggling on both sides of the proverbial fence in an effort to preserve something dear to them.  

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In the wake of the furor over use of wild animals in acts, and as a result of animal abuse that has occurred over the years, many circuses have dispensed with exotic animal acts.  The quote below is from an article written by Michael Winkler entitled, ‘The Ring Cycle.’  It exemplifies the no-win situation many small circuses find themselves in.

“The controversy about the animals, yes, that hurt us,” one circus owner concedes. “There are still people who say, ‘let's not go to the circus because they've got animals’ - but then there are other people saying, ‘we won't go to that circus, there aren't any animals.’ It's hard.”

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     Author, and Hollywood animal trainer, Pat Derby, gives a home to abused or abandoned performing animals at PAWWS – the Performing Animal Welfare Society.  You can visit the PAWWS website and learn more about Pat’s efforts by clicking on this link: PAWWS

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Thank you so much, Becca, Dina, Peggy, and Ria for answering questions in your various areas of expertise.

And thank you, Audrey, Donna, Jane L., Peggy, Susan, and Terri.  You always let me bounce more bizarre ideas and questions off of you than any women deserve to be subjected to.  Though I struck out when I asked if any of you had ever performed in a circus, trained elephants, or swallowed swords, I didn’t strike out where friendship is concerned.