Captain Stanley leaned out the doorway of his office and looked into the apparatus bay. He didn’t see his paramedics, but he did see that half of the doors on the squad were open. The two were probably performing their morning check of the supplies and equipment.
“John, Roy,” he called, hoping that they were indeed within earshot.
“Yeah, Cap?” Johnny’s voice echoed through the bay.
“Could you come in my office for a minute?”
Johnny and Roy emerged from behind the far side of the squad.
“Sure, Cap,” Roy said. They quickly put the gear back into the appropriate compartments and headed to the captain’s office.
“What’s up, Cap?” Johnny asked, closing the office door behind him. Captain Stanley stood next to his desk, thumbing the frayed corner of his blotter. He looked uneasily at Johnny, then at Roy.
“Have a seat, guys,” he said, sitting down in his own well-worn swivel chair.
Johnny and Roy glanced at each other, wondering what was wrong. The captain didn’t seem to be upset with them, and they were pretty sure they hadn’t done anything to warrant being scolded. They silently studied him, noting that he was looking more and more as if he feared a chiding of some sort.
“Cap, is everything alright?” Roy finally asked. “You look like you’ve lost your last friend.”
“Funny you should say that, Roy.” The captain looked back and forth between the two paramedics, then grabbed a piece of paper from his desk.
“I got a memo this morning from headquarters,” he said. “You’re aware that there’s a temporary director of the paramedic program, since Walters is on leave for six months?”
When they nodded in response, he continued.
“Well, it seems that the temporary director has made a few changes in the paramedic scheduling system.” The captain’s tone was uncharacteristically impudent.
“What kind of changes?” Johnny asked warily.
“Apparently, he has some ideas about paramedic partnerships. He doesn’t think that permanent partners is the best way to run the program, and that you should all rotate amongst yourselves.” He cleared his throat before continuing.
“He wants to try a test rotation where all paramedics get new partners for six months. If everything goes okay, they may make it standard practice, where twice a year you change partners.” He leaned back in his chair and tossed the memo back onto his desk. Johnny and Roy both leaned forward and looked at the captain, disbelieving.
“Cap, that’s stupid,” Johnny said. “The program is just fine the way it is. Why change it?”
“John, it’s not me that’s doing it. I just want you guys to know that,” Captain Stanley replied, holding his hands out in an attempt to prevent the inevitable verbal onslaught. “If it was up to me, I’d keep you here; but it’s not.”
“Cap,” Roy began, “are you saying that not only are we being split up, but that we’re going to different stations?”
“You are, Roy,” he replied. “John will be staying here and his new partner will transfer in.”
Johnny stood up and started pacing the room.
“This is ridiculous!” he exclaimed. “Roy and I are a team! We’ve worked together for six years. We work well together. Why bust that up?!”
“Johnny, calm down,” Roy said quietly. “There’s no sense in getting mad at the captain.”
“Roy, aren’t you upset about this?” Johnny asked his soon-to-be ex-partner.
“Of course I am,” he replied, “but there’s nothing we can do about it.”
Johnny resumed his pacing.
“Look,” Roy said, “it’s only temporary, until Walters gets back.”
Johnny looked at Roy, incredulous.
“Six months, Roy! He won’t be back for six months.”
“Look, John, I know you don’t like this,” Captain Stanley said, “but you’ve worked with other partners before, when Roy was on vacation or out with an injury. This is no different.”
“Yeah, Cap, I know,” Johnny reluctantly agreed. “It’s just that I feel so out of sorts when I work with somebody else. Roy and I know each other so well that half the time we don’t even have to talk, we just know what the other is going to do. When I work with someone else, it’s just not the same.”
Roy and the captain exchanged smiles.
“I’m flattered, Johnny,” Roy told him, “and you know that I feel the same way, but this won’t be so bad. We’ve talked about it before, when I took the Engineer’s test and thought about leaving. And remember, it’s not permanent.”
Johnny sat back down, looking at the floor and rubbing the back of his neck. He glanced from Roy to the captain and chuckled.
“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I guess I over-reacted a bit.”
“Just a bit,” Roy agreed, smiling. “Think of it as a vacation. Maybe you’ll get a younger paramedic and you can be senior partner for a while.”
“Yeah,” Johnny said, staring off into space. “That would be okay.” Then the smug expression he was wearing left his face.
“Wait a minute. What if I end up with Brice?”
“It’s your turn,” Roy said, trying to contain a laugh. “I got him the last time.”
Johnny grimaced at the thought.
“Well, I’m glad to see that you two are okay with this,” Captain Stanley said. “I really thought it would be a problem.” He stood up and approached Roy.
“And Roy, I really do hate to lose you,” he said, offering his hand. “It won’t be the same around here without you.”
“Thanks, Cap,” Roy replied, shaking his hand, “but like I told Johnny, it’s only for six months. It won’t be that bad.”
~ ~ ~
Two days later, Roy reported to Station 45, where he would be working for the next six months. He found himself actually looking forward to the change. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to work with Johnny anymore, but this would give them both a new perspective. Maybe they would even learn a few things.
He and Johnny had both realized long ago that they wouldn’t always be working together. Eventually one of them would be transferred or promoted or leave for some other reason. As much as they enjoyed working together, they knew that their separation at some future point was inevitable.
He went in search of Captain Farnsley, whom he had known for several years, since they both worked at Station 10. The captain was in the kitchen with the rest of the crew, getting ready for the beginning of the shift.
“Morning, everybody,” Roy said as he entered the kitchen.
“DeSoto, welcome to Station 45,” Captain Farnsley greeted him, shaking his hand. “I think you pretty much know everyone, except maybe for your partner.” He turned toward a young man sitting at the end of the table.
“Roy, this is Ben Springer. He’ll be your partner while you’re here.”
Roy extended his hand to Springer, who shook it enthusiastically, nearly dislocating Roy’s shoulder in the process.
“Nice to meet ya, DeSoto,” he said with a bit of an accent. The captain smiled at Springer’s exuberance.
“Ben here is from New York,” he said. “He worked as a paramedic for the NYFD for four years. He just transferred out here recently.”
“New York,” Roy repeated. “I’ll bet that was a busy place to work.” He rubbed his shoulder and tried to smile.
“That it was,” Springer said. “Not like out here, where you can go for over an hour without a call. We stayed busy all the time back east.” His attitude was somewhat snobbish, with a dash of conceit thrown in for good measure.
“I don’t know how you guys deal with the boredom out here,” he continued. “I like to keep busy. Don’t you, DeSoto?” He slapped Roy on the back, practically knocking him off his feet.
Oh, boy, Roy thought. Johnny Gage, where are you when I need you?
~ ~ ~
On the other side of town, Johnny was also meeting his new partner.
Arthur Banninger was fresh from paramedic training. He had completed his field training at Station 36, and was now ready for his first assignment. Johnny had made a point to arrive at the station early, but Banninger was already checking out the squad when he arrived.
“John Gage, meet your new partner, Art Banninger,” Captain Stanley introduced them.
“It’s Arthur, Captain, not Art,” corrected Banninger, who then turned his attention to Johnny. “Gage, can you go over your system with me, here? I’d like to know how you’ve organized your narcotics.” He squatted down and started pawing through the drug box.
“Sure, Arthur,” Johnny said, checking his watch, “but we’ve still got about 15 minutes before we’re on duty. I’d like to get a cup of coffee first, if that’s okay with you.”
“If you must,” Banninger sighed, looking disgusted.
Johnny and Captain Stanley exchanged looks of disbelief as they left Banninger and headed into the kitchen.
“Cap,” Johnny said, catching his arm, “is this guy related to Brice?”
“I’ve got a feeling it’s going to be a long six months,” muttered the captain.
~ ~ ~
“Squad 45, man trapped, Quarry Lake Park, Forty-five Twelve South Chestnut, Four Five One Two South Chestnut, cross street Sherman, time out eleven fifteen.”
“Squad 45, KMG-472,” acknowledged Captain Farnsley.
He handed the slip of paper to Roy, who had, through force of habit, positioned himself in the driver’s seat of the squad. As they pulled out of the bay, Roy handed the slip to Ben.
“You’re used to driving, huh?” Ben observed.
“Yeah,” Roy answered, now realizing that he probably shouldn’t have assumed that he would be driving. He also noticed that Ben wasn’t checking the map for him.
“Ben,” he began, “don’t you think maybe you should see where we’re supposed to be going?” He glanced again at his new partner, who seemed to be staring absently out his window.
“Hmm?” Ben responded. “Oh, I thought you LA boys knew your way around your city.” He pulled the map from the glove compartment as if it were an imposition on him.
“Well, I know generally where I’m headed,” Roy said, somewhat annoyed, “but I’m not really used to this part of the city.”
“Alright, alright,” Ben said, casually checking the map.
He looked up several times to see where they were, then back at the slip of paper, then back to the map again. Roy sped along, hoping that he was still heading in the right direction. He had only been to this park once, on a call about four years ago; and that time, he’d been following Johnny’s flawless directions.
“Uh, you need to turn left at this light,” Ben finally said, pointing to a street that they were just then passing. Roy shot him a look.
“Oops,” Ben said. “Do you think you could turn around?”
Roy looked for a place to turn around, fuming about the time that was potentially being wasted by Ben’s lack of attention. Man trapped, he thought, shaking his head.
He recalled that Quarry Lake Park was a glorified swimming hole that was once a working quarry. One Friday many years ago, while workers were excavating a new area of the quarry, they hit an underground spring. They left for the weekend, and by the time they showed up again the following Monday, the entire quarry had filled with water. Shortly afterward, it had been turned into a swimming park.
One end of the quarry had been filled with sand to create a beach with a relatively shallow swimming area. Another, much smaller, area had been reserved for diving, with a two low and one high diving boards. The vast majority of the quarry, however, was off limits.
There were high rims around the far end of the quarry that resembled cliffs. Although the area was restricted, many individuals would sneak in and dive from these cliffs, usually injuring themselves in the process. There were many natural and man-made rock formations hidden beneath the surface of the water; and the divers, who were nearly always inebriated, wouldn’t remember this until they hit one of them. The danger was magnified by the fact that there was no ready way to get out of this portion of the quarry. A person would have to swim all the way to the shallow beach section in order to get out.
In addition to this, there were countless underwater pseudo-caves and deep crevasses that people liked to explore, whether they had permission or not, and whether they had benefit of proper diving gear and experience or not.
“Ah-ha!” Ben exclaimed, punching at the map with his forefinger. “I got it.”
He proceeded to direct Roy to the park, oblivious as to why his new partner was so peeved with him.
~ ~ ~
Johnny climbed into the driver’s seat and adjusted the mirrors. It seemed so strange to be behind the wheel. He felt a little like a teenager getting ready to take Dad’s car out for a spin.
Senior partner. He chucked at the thought. When Arthur took his place beside him in the squad, Johnny briefly contemplated calling him “Junior”, but decided against it. The joke would be wasted on the straight-laced rookie.
“LA, Squad 51, 10-8 to Rampart General for supplies,” Arthur announced into the radio microphone.
“Squad 51.”
“So, Arthur,” Johnny said, “tell me about your family. What’s your wife’s name?”
“My wife?”
“Yeah, you know, the woman you’re married to,” he said, a little sarcastically.
“I’m not married.”
“You’re not?” Johnny asked, confused. “But you’re wearing a wedding band.”
“Oh,” Arthur said, looking at the ring. “This was my father’s. I wear it to… uh… Well, it helps keep the women away.”
Johnny did a double-take, his mind racing with possibilities as to why the young paramedic would want to keep women away. Maybe he’s…? Nah.
“When I was training at St. Francis,” Arthur explained, “the nurses wouldn’t leave me alone. They were constantly asking me for my phone number and wanting to buy me lunch. It was almost embarrassing.”
“Oh, yeah,” Johnny managed. He doesn’t sound too embarrassed. “I used to have… I have the same prob… Well, it’s not really a problem…”
“I sure hope the nurses at Rampart aren’t like that,” Arthur interrupted his stammering.
“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Johnny said flatly. Just stay out of my territory, Junior.
~ ~ ~
“Come on, pull.”
An ornery, middle-aged, obese man stood on the sand of the Quarry Lake Park beach, egging Roy and Ben on. They had been there for the past 15 minutes, trying to free him from a black rubber inner tube that he had wedged himself into.
“This is getting very uncomfortable, you know,” the man said curtly.
“Yes, sir,” Roy politely replied, “we realize that. Could you try sucking in again, please?”
“Don’t you think I tried that before you got here?” He spoke to them as if they were children. “And, by the way, what the hell took you so long to get here?”
Roy and Ben glanced at each other, ignoring the question. Roy had managed to wriggle a few fingers between the tube and the “victim”, but that was a far cry from actually getting the thing off of him.
“Ben, hand me that suntan oil, will you?” Roy asked, motioning with his free hand. Ben nodded and handed him the small bottle.
“What are you going to do with that?” the man demanded.
“I’m going to use this as a lubricant,” Roy answered.
“Oh, no, you’re not,” he said, grabbing the bottle from him. “This stuff’s expensive.”
“Sir…” Roy began.
“Look, sir,” Ben interrupted, “we could’ve had this thing off of you 15 minutes ago if you would’ve let us cut it, but you wouldn’t. What else do you expect us to do?”
“Ben…”
“What I expect,” the man said, “is for you to do your job.”
“Sir…”
Roy was literally caught in the middle of the escalating argument. The man kept turning every which way, waving his arms as he spoke; and, as Roy was now pretty much fused to him, he was forced to jump or to duck with his every movement. He was starting to feel like one of his dog’s rope pull-toys being flailed this way and that.
“Look, both of you, just settle down,” Roy said sternly as he stood back up straight. He glared at Ben, wishing briefly that he were unprofessional enough to give the paramedic a piece of his mind right here and now.
“Sir,” he said, his voice returning to its polite tone, “I’m sorry, but I really don’t see any other way.”
“Well,” the man looked at Roy, his own mood softening. “Alright. But don’t use too much.”
“No, sir,” Roy said, sighing in relief.
He took the bottle and squirted some of the oil around his fingers. He then began to work his hand back and forth, smearing the oil on the inside of the tube. The combined smell of the hot rubber, the man’s perspiration and the coconut tanning oil was nauseating, so Roy worked as quickly as he could. Every so often, he would steal a glance at Ben, who stood huffing a few feet away, arms crossed, kicking at the sand. Finally, Roy had lubricated nearly the whole inner portion of the tube.
“Alright, sir,” he said. “Let’s give it a try now. Can you suck in once more?”
The man nodded as Roy took hold of the tube from the inside and started wiggling it until, with a sudden jolt, it dropped to the sand. The man sighed and stepped out of the tube.
“I can’t thank you enough,” he said, grasping Roy’s hand. “You saved my life.”
“Well, sir, I wouldn’t say that,” Roy replied. Over the man’s shoulder, he could see Ben rolling his eyes and pantomiming.
“Maybe we should just check you out and make sure you’re okay.”
“No, no. I’m fine. I’ve taken up enough of your time already.”
The man’s comment prompted a highly sarcastic choking cough from Ben.
“Are you sure?” Roy asked.
“Yes, yes,” he said. “You boys run along now.” With that, he picked up the tube and walked away.
“And they say New York has all the loonies!” Ben called after him.
“Come on,” Roy said, exasperated.
He headed up the beach toward a pavilion that housed the snack bar and restrooms. He stayed a few steps ahead of Ben, muttering under his breath and trying to control his temper.
When he reached the men’s room, Roy elbowed the door open and made a beeline for one of the sinks, where he quickly soaped up and washed the oil from his hands. Suddenly, a look of sheer horror came over his face.
“Oh, shit!” he exclaimed. “Oh, God, tell me I didn’t…” He spun around and looked frantically from Ben to the floor, to his hands, to the sink, and back to Ben again.
“What’s the matter?” Ben asked. “You look like you need to be defibbed.”
“My wedding ring,” Roy said. “I lost it.”
He bolted out of the restroom, practically mowing Ben down in the process. He ran back to the area of the beach where their “rescue” had taken place, his partner casually lagging behind.
“Take it easy,” Ben said, finally reaching the spot.
“It’s got to be around here somewhere,” Roy said, scanning the sand for any sign of the ring. “Joanne’s gonna kill me. She’s gonna kill me!”
“DeSoto, how long have you been married?” Ben asked.
“Fifteen years,” he replied, squatting down.
“How long have you been in the Department?”
“Thirteen years.” Roy looked up. “Can you help me look, please?”
“And this is the first time you’ve lost your ring?” Ben asked, crouching down next to him.
“I always take it off and put it in my locker before I start my shift,” Roy explained. “Starting at 45’s this morning threw my routine off. On the way here, I noticed that I was still wearing it.” He was rambling now, certain that, at the very least, he’d be sleeping on the couch for the next ten years.
“I should’ve taken it off and put it in my pocket,” he continued. “She’s gonna kill me.”
“Well, if she’s put up with you for fifteen years, I don’t think she’ll kill you over this,” Ben said dryly.
Roy glanced at him, not sure if the remark was an insult aimed at him, or a compliment aimed at Joanne. He had a tendency to get red in the face when his anger flared. Granted, that wasn’t very often, but between the annoying ex-New York paramedic and losing his wedding ring, his temper was rising quickly.
“Look here, partner,” he couldn’t have sounded more sarcastic if he tried, “I’ve had about all I can…”
“Squad 45, what is your status?”
Roy was tempted to reply, “Search and Rescue. I’m searching for this ring, and if I don’t find it, someone is going to have to rescue me”, but instead responded per protocol.
“Squad 45 available.”
Mr. New York missed the dirty look that Roy shot his way.
“Squad 45, stand by for a second call at your location.”
“Ten-four. Squad 45 standing by.”
Roy looked around the park, then at Ben, whose eyes happened to be fixed on a young brunette who was batting her eyes at him and smiling.
“Uh, excuse me, Springer.”
Oblivious, Ben continued to make eyes at the young girl. Roy heaved a big sigh and walked over to him, grabbing his sleeve and yanking him around to face him.
“Wha…” Ben started. Just then the radio crackled back to life.
“Squad 45, child down at your location. Respond to the snack bar. Time out eleven fifty-seven.”
They took off for the snack bar and were halfway there when Roy noticed that Ben had left their gear behind.
“Hey, Springer,” he yelled, “you wanna…”
Oh, nevermind, he thought to himself. He ran back and picked up the equipment. When he rounded the corner of the snack bar, he found Springer giving the Heimleich to a child of about eight. The child was still conscious and had a terrified look on his face. Standing nearby was their earlier “victim”, who wasn’t looking very well himself.
“Jake?” the man yelled. “Oh, God, Jakie?”
Roy approached the man just as the boy began to breathe again.
“Sir?” Roy said. “Are you okay?”
“My grandson… hot dog…” the man sputtered. His face was white and his eyes were opened wide. He was struggling to catch his breath and was clutching his left arm.
“Sir, you’ll have to calm down. Your grandson is fine and my partner, Johnny, is taking care of him.” Roy didn’t even realize that he’d referred to his partner as “Johnny”. He started taking the man’s vitals.
“Ben,” he said, “I need to call Rampart. How’s your patient doing?” He paused for a second, then turned his attention back to the man. “Sir, what’s your name?”
“Ken Farmer,” the man replied with great effort. “How’s Jakie?”
“Your grandson is fine,” Ben said with an edge of disgust in his voice. “He should take smaller bites!”
Roy shot him a look.
“Ben, you want to patch him in for me?” he asked, indicating his patient. “I’ll get Rampart on the line.” He reached for the biophone.
“Rampart base, this is Squad Fif… uh, Squad 45.”
“Go ahead, 45,” Dixie’s voice answered.
“Rampart, we have two victims,” Roy began. Victim number one is male, approximately eight years old. He had choked on a hot dog. We have successfully dislodged the food from his throat and his vital signs are normal. His is calm and is not complaining of pain or loss of breath. Victim number two is also male, approximately 52 years old. He is short of breath, pale, and diaphoretic. We’re patching him in now, vital signs to follow.”
~ ~ ~
At the Rampart base station, Dixie responded.
“Ten-four, Squad 45. Standing by.” She turned and looked at Johnny, who was leaning against the wall, smiling.
“Yep, he misses me,” he bragged.
Arthur, standing nearby, rolled his eyes. All he’d heard about all morning was Roy DeSoto. The way Gage talked about him, you’d think this DeSoto guy was God.
“John,” he began, “I’ve got the supplies. Can we head back to quarters now? I’d like to get some studying in before lunch.” His tone was at once annoyed and authoritarian. Johnny looked at Dixie, then at his partner. Johnny shook his head in exasperation.
“You, my friend, need to lighten up,” he said as he turned on his heel and headed out. In the meantime, Doctor Brackett studied the EKG leads.
“Squad 45,” he said into the radio, “start an IV with Ringers and transport. Keep us advised on vitals. Transport your first victim as well.”
“Ten-four, Rampart,” Roy acknowledged.
~ ~ ~
After Roy had prepared his victim for transport, he looked at Ben.
“I’ll go in with them. Why don’t you pack up the gear and follow us in.”
“Yeah, whatever you say, boss. Good job!” Ben replied as he clapped Roy on the back, again nearly knocking him over.
Roy tried to smile as he climbed into the back of the ambulance. Man, do I miss Johnny, he thought to himself. Hell, even Brice would be better than this guy.
~ ~ ~
Roy leaned against the counter near the base station, sipping his coffee. Dixie had been listening to him, trying to be supportive. It wasn’t often that she heard Roy complain about anything, especially work. He loved his job so much. She began to feel sorry for the quiet, patient paramedic.
“…and to top it all off, I lost my wedding ring!” he said. “Joanne is gonna kill me, Dix.” He sighed and took another sip of his coffee.
“How did you manage that, Roy?” she asked as a nurse approached them.
“Miss McCall?” the nurse began. “Uh, we have a slight… problem.”
“What is it, Sally?” Dixie asked.
“Mr. Farmer claims that the paramedics,” she glanced at Roy, “put a gold wedding band down his shorts.” She paused, a look of embarrassment on her face.
“What?” Roy nearly dropped his cup. “How in the world…? Ohhhh, Dixie! When we were taking that inner tube off of him… It must’ve slipped down into his…” He smiled ecstatically and hugged Dixie, taking her quite by surprise. After a few seconds, he had gotten a hold of himself. Dixie just grinned.
“I think I’d rather tell Joanne that I lost it than explain to her where I found it!” she laughed as she walked with Roy to the treatment room.
~ ~ ~
Johnny looked at his watch as he turned the squad engine off. Lovely. I still have 14 hours left with Brice Junior, he thought to himself. The thought caused him to groan.
“Something on your mind, John?” asked Arthur.
“It’s ‘Johnny’, not ‘John’,” he replied a little curtly, “and no, nothing is on my mind.” He rolled his eyes and headed into the rec room.
The engine had had a slow day so far. Captain Stanley was actually dozing on the sofa; apparently the game show that was on television wasn’t too riveting. Mike was on the phone, speaking in hushed tones. Marco and Chet were preparing hamburgers for lunch.
“You guys hungry?” Chet asked as he flipped a burger.
“I’m starved,” Johnny said as he snuck a pickle slice and rooted around in the refrigerator for something to drink.
“No, thank you, Chester,” Arthur replied. “I’m going to relax in the dorm and get some studying in.”
Chet turned to see the young paramedic walking out the door with several books under his arm.
“Don’t even bother, Chet,” Johnny said as he plopped down at the table. “The guy’s a nuisance.” He gestured toward Mike and whispered, “What’s up with Stoker?”
“It’s that time of year, Johnny, my man,” Chet replied. “He and Beth are on about Round Ten of the ‘where are we going on vacation’ bout. She’s been calling all morning with ideas, and he’s axed them all.”
Johnny chuckled as he sipped a glass of water. Ah, just another reason not to get married. Suddenly, the klaxon sounded.
“Ohhh, man!” he moaned.
“Station 51, traffic accident, man trapped. Eight twenty-seven Valley Vista, eight two seven Valley Vista, cross street Lakeview, time out twelve eighteen.”
John slid into the driver’s seat and handed the address to Banninger, who was not only already seated, but had his seat belt and his helmet on, and was tapping his fingers on his knee.
The squad sped out of the station with the engine close behind. They arrived at the scene to find that a car and a pickup truck had collided head on. The truck was empty, and they assumed that it was the driver that was talking to the CHP. The other car, a small compact, had extensive damage, and a man was slumped over the wheel.
“Lopez, Kelly, disconnect those batteries and get a reel line to hose down that debris,” Captain Stanley ordered as he headed over to the CHP officer.
“What do we have, Jim?” the captain asked, nodding a hello to the man that was talking with Officer Jim Millerick. He noticed a small trickle of blood coming from the man’s hairline above his left eye.
“You okay, there, buddy?” he asked. “I could have a medic look at you.”
“No, thanks, I’m okay,” the man replied. “I’m just worried about the other fella.”
“Afternoon, Hank,” Jim greeted the captain. “It seems the guy in the car was driving down the wrong lane. Mr. Stansbury,” he motioned to the bleeding man, “couldn’t get out of his way fast enough and they hit head on.”
“Driving down the center lane?” Captain Stanley asked, then looked back at the man. “Are you sure you’re okay? Are you dizzy? Did you lose consciousness?”
“Yes, sir, I’m fine. Really. I don’t even have a headache,” the man assured him.
Johnny turned from his patient and looked at Arthur.
“Where’s the drug box?” he asked.
“Uh,” Arthur fumbled. “Let me go get it.” He ran first to the engine, then to the squad.
Johnny slowly and carefully moved his victim back on his seat. Surveying his face, he found a large bruise on his temple and a split lip. The man wasn’t trapped, and based on his preliminary check, he didn’t appear to have any broken bones. However, the possibility of internal bleeding and spinal injury still existed.
“Cap,” Johnny called, “I need a backboard and a neck brace.” He then glanced up to see Arthur standing next to him, holding the drug box.
“Arthur, what are you doing?” he asked.
“Uh, I, uh… I was waiting for you to tell me what to do,” Arthur answered sheepishly. Johnny rolled his eyes.
“I need you to get over on the other side and get a BP on this guy,” he said impatiently. Great. Just great. Acts like Brice while we’re at the station, and acts like a scared teenager during the run!
“Banninger,” Johnny said, his tone becoming angry, “get the vitals. You know, BP, pulse and respiration?” He sighed heavily as he checked the patient’s pupil reaction. He stood up and reached for the biophone, which was on the roof of the car.
“Rampart, this is Squad 51.” As he waited for a reply, he wrote down the vitals that Arthur was relaying to him.
“Go ahead, 51.”
“Rampart, we have a male, approximately 32 years of age,” Johnny said. “He’s been involved in a head on collision. He was belted, but is unconscious at this time. He has a bruise on his left temple and minor facial lacerations. His pupils are equal and reactive.”
Johnny continued to relay information to the hospital, glancing at Arthur every now and then. Suddenly, the patient began to moan.
“Stand by, Rampart,” Johnny said. “The patient is beginning to regain consciousness.” He quickly bent down to talk to the man.
“Sir? Can you hear me?” he asked, checking his eyes again. “Arthur, get me a new set of vitals, will you?”
“What happened?” the man asked in a thick English accent.
“I just took his vitals,” Banninger whined. “What do you want me to take them again for?”
“Please stay still, sir,” Johnny said calmly. “You’ve been in an accident.” He then looked at Arthur. “Just get me the vitals, Banninger,” he said sharply. “I don’t have time to explain it to you now.”
Arthur swallowed hard, shaken by the commotion at the scene and by his partner’s annoyance with him.
“Sir,” Johnny spoke again to the victim, “can you tell me what day it is?” He continued to ask him questions to help him determine the extent of his head injuries. Arthur had taken over for him on the biophone.
“Rampart,” he began, “be advised, our patient is conscious and somewhat confused. We are extricating him now. He is in a great deal of pain.”
Johnny palpitated the man’s chest and abdomen, then checked him over once more before they put him on the backboard. As they loaded him onto the ambulance gurney, Arthur updated the hospital on the situation.
“Rampart, the patient is stable. There are no signs of internal bleeding, and he is ready for transport.”
“Ten-four, 51.”
“John,” Arthur said, looking at his partner, “do you want me to follow you in?”
“No, Arthur,” Johnny replied, his tone softening. “You go in with the victim. I’ll pack up the gear and meet you at Rampart.”
The rookie paramedic began to say something, then just nodded and climbed into the back of the ambulance.
~ ~ ~
As Johnny backed the squad into the parking stall at Rampart, he noticed an empty Squad 45 parked a few stalls away. A huge smile crossed his face as he jumped out of the vehicle. Good ole Roy! I can’t wait to see him! he thought as he trotted through the doors.
“Slow down, Junior! What’s your hurry?” Roy grinned as he clapped Johnny on the back.
“Hey, Pally. No hurry. Just trying to find my partner,” Johnny responded nonchalantly. “How’s it going?”
“It’s going pretty well,” he lied. “My new partner, Ben Springer, is a great guy. Just transferred out from New York.” It’s getting pretty deep in here. “How about you? How are the guys?”
Johnny grinned, trying to hide his disappointment at how well things were going with Roy.
“Oh, Mike’s having vacation problems. Chet is, well, Chet. Cap and Marco are doing great, and my new partner’s a rookie, but I like him a lot.” Where are my boots? It really is getting deep in here.
“I see,” Roy replied, hearing the disappointment in his own voice.
“Roy, is everything okay?” Johnny asked.
“Oh, yeah,” he bluffed. “Couldn’t be better. It’s just been one of those shifts. You know. I lost my wedding ring for about an hour - that didn’t help.” He checked his watch as he started backing away. “Well, listen, Johnny. I have to head out. Ben is probably waiting in the squad. Catch you later, okay, Junior?” He put on his best smile.
“Okay. See you around, Pally.” Johnny flashed an equally impressive smile, then headed to the ER to find his own partner.
~ ~ ~
Several weeks passed, and Johnny and Roy were not adjusting well to their new sidekicks.
Johnny found his rookie to be arrogant and at the same time, insecure. He found himself talking more about Roy than he wanted to. He realized that it wasn’t fair to Arthur and tried not to compare his two partners to one another, but it was hard. He’d worked with Roy for six years. They had been brothers as well as partners, and it was a difficult adjustment. Chet avoided Arthur, and the rest of the crew just accepted him. The “family” feeling was gone.
Roy talked with Joanne a lot about his new partner. Ben was easily distracted, usually by a pretty face; and he was quite wrapped up in himself. He was definitely not a team player and, although he was a good paramedic - when he was focused - Roy couldn’t count on him to back him up and was afraid to face a serious situation with him. Johnny had saved Roy so many times, he’d lost count. He’d done the same for Johnny. He missed him terribly and was considering taking the Engineer’s test once again. Being a paramedic lost a lot of its appeal when you lacked a good partner that you could count on and who was there for you. Roy didn’t know how he was going to last three more months.
Johnny and Roy had run into each other numerous times over the last few weeks. They talked about their new partners, but neither voiced their discontent, each thinking the other was comfortable with the new pairing. They’d had dinner together a few times, and the whole A-shift, sans Arthur, went bowling just last weekend and capped it off with a beer at The Second Alarm. They were a family again when they were all together, and it felt good. Felt like home, at least for a little while.
A-shift felt lost without Roy, and Roy had been depressed since being split from the crew. They all understood why the Department wanted to do this, but they hated that it seemed so permanent. Sure, most of the guys worked other shifts to pick up a few bucks here and there, and all of them had switched with other stations at one time or another. But this was different. They still had over 3 months to go, but it never seemed like the end was in sight.
~ ~ ~
“Squad 45, what is your status?” the dispatcher’s voice came over the handy-talkie.
“Squad 45 available,” Roy replied.
“Squad 45, report to Station 51 for a meeting with Captain Stanley and Chief McConakee.”
“I wonder what this is all about?” Roy thought aloud.
“No idea, Boss man,” Springer replied. Roy cringed. He hated it when Springer called him that.
~ ~ ~
Across town, Johnny was wondering the same thing as he knocked on the captain’s door. He slowly opened it to find Captain Stanley and the chief chatting quietly.
“Cap,” he said quietly, “I hate to interrupt, but I just heard over the radio…”
The captain waved him in and motioned for him to take a seat.
“John, we need to talk for a few minutes,” he said. “You’re out of service for about a half hour.”
Johnny sat up straight, his eyes darting between the captain and the chief.
Noticing his apprehension, Captain Stanley smiled. “Relax, pal. Everything’s okay.”
A few minutes later, Roy and Ben tapped on the door.
“Roy, come on in,” the captain said. “Springer, why don’t you go have a seat in the rec room. We’ll be with you shortly.”
Ben nodded and closed the door as he left. Captain Stanley cleared his throat, looking from Johnny to Roy.
“Boys,” he began, “we’ve had some complaints that we’d like to discuss with you.”
Roy shifted uncomfortably on his seat. Johnny looked at Roy, then back to the captain.
“It seems that Banninger and Springer have both complained to Doctor Brackett and to the chief, here, that the two of you are difficult to get along with.” The captain paused for a second before continuing. “They claim that they can’t find a comfortable place with either of you, and that you’re constantly bumping heads. They also claim that your expectations of them are quite high.”
Captain Stanley looked at the two paramedics. Roy wore an expression of sadness; Johnny looked angry.
“Would either of you care to comment?” Chief McConakee asked.
Roy shook his head and played with the strap on his handy-talkie. Johnny looked at his ex-partner, then at the chief, his anger subsiding somewhat.
“I don’t know what to say,” Johnny said with a sigh. “I suppose I could sit here and tell you how bad a match Arthur is for me, but I don’t want to put the blame entirely on him. I guess I’m just not used to working with someone fresh out of training. Maybe I did expect too much. I suppose I should talk to him, maybe lighten up a bit.”
“And I guess I’m just not used to working with someone like Springer,” Roy commented.
“He transferred in from a really busy station in New York, and I haven’t given him much chance to adjust to our way of doing things. Sorry, Chief.”
The Chief and Captain exchanged glances, wondering how much they should tell the pair.
“Do you men know why you were chosen for this little experiment?” asked the Chief.
When Roy and Johnny both shook their heads, the Chief continued. “When the temporary director first proposed this plan, I wasn’t too keen on it. I thought everything was going fine. But I did understand his concerns. So I talked to Dr. Brackett and some others involved in the paramedic program. I figured, if we were going to do this, we would give it our best shot. That meant the two of you. No matter who I talked to, your names always came up as the best team we have. Not to say that the others aren’t good, but in the opinion of a lot of people, including myself, you are the best working team in the program.”
Captain Stanley smiled at the pair, nodding his head. He had always thought that about Johnny and Roy, but then he was a bit biased in his opinion, considering they were his men.
“We also knew,” continued the Chief, “that the two of you, having both been training officers, would be better able to integrate new partners than some of the others. So we knew that if you two had a problem, than more than likely the others would too. But it looks like these particulars pairings haven’t worked out.”
“So, men, there’s only one thing we can do,” the chief said. “Sometimes it’s hard to make a match. When it doesn’t work out, we just switch partners until we find two that work.”
Roy and Johnny looked at each other, both thinking the same thing. It looked like they’d be trading partners. Roy didn’t know how Johnny would deal with Ben. He’d probably end up decking him. Johnny knew that Roy’s patience would be spent very quickly with Arthur.
“Looks like we’re going to have to transfer you out of 45’s, DeSoto,” Chief McConakee said.
“Excuse me?” Roy asked, snapping his head up to look directly at the chief.
“Starting with the next shift, you are back here, Roy,” Captain Stanley said with a smile. “The way we see it, why fix something that ain’t broke?”
“Yes!” Johnny exclaimed so loudly that the guys in the rec room heard him. He looked at the chief and the captain and grinned sheepishly. “Sorry, sirs.”
Chief McConakee smiled and waved him off.
“No problem, Gage. I understand how you feel. I want to thank the two of you for making this as easy as it was. I know that you weren’t real happy about it, but I appreciate your professionalism. It just makes me all the more sure that we chose the right team to try this with. It didn’t work out, but at least I know that we gave it our best shot.”
With that, the chief shook their hands, then he and Captain Stanley left the office to inform the other men of the decision. Johnny looked at Roy, who had a huge grin on his face.
“Did you miss me, Pally?”
“Like a summer cold, Junior,” Roy laughed. “Like a summer cold.”
The two clapped each other on the back and walked out into the bay. Roy ran his hand along the hood of the squad - his squad - as they walked toward the rec room.
“Uh, just one thing, Roy,” Johnny stopped him.
“What’s that, Johnny?” Roy asked, his head still in the clouds.
“I wanna drive,” he laughed. “Seems I’m senior partner around these parts.”
“Why fix something that ain’t broke, my friend?” Roy laughed and pushed him through the rec room door.
Shawn’s note: There really is a place in Racine, Wisconsin (where I grew up) called Quarry Lake Park, and it really did fill up the way I described (or so I was always told). Very cool place to go swimming in the middle of the city. Thought it might be funny to throw a curve ball with that “rescue”.
"If It Ain't Broke, Don't Fix It" ©1998 Tangee Taylor, Shawn Qandt and Pat "Charli" Charleville. "Emergency!" and its characters © Mark VII Productions, Inc. All rights reserved. No infringement of any copyrights or trademarks is intended or should be inferred. This is a work of fiction, and any similarity to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.
NOTICE: The layout and graphics on this page are the property of Two Chickies Fan Fiction. They may NOT be used on any other fan fiction site and any such use consitutes HTML theft. We urge you not to support any site that engages in such tactics, and to report any such usage to Marcia or Tangee.