The Harp-Weaver by Nexxie PART III After a couple of hours spent in companionable silence on the shore of the lake, J.R. grew restless. "Hey, Dad?" "Hmm?" Johnny turned his head toward J.R. "I think the fish have stopped biting. What say we pack it in and head back to camp. I'd like to go back to that waterfall, maybe hike up to the mouth of the cave?" Blinking his eyes to clear them, Johnny realized he'd fallen asleep. The tree trunk solidly at his back, the late morning sun warming his face, human nature gave way to mother nature, lulling him into a nap. "Um...sure, sounds good." He stood and stretched widely then picked up the abandoned and forgotten fishing rod and reeled in his line. A small trout, thoroughly hooked, dangled and danced from the end as it left the peaceful waters of the lake. Johnny could hear J.R. chuckle as he reeled in his own hook. "Bad sportsmanship, Dad, leaving the poor fish stuck on your hook while you took a nap." "Hey, in a few minutes, the fish won't care, all right?" "I don't believe you, Pop. Leaving that poor little fish to suffer..." "Watch it, Junior! You might be next." "And don't call me Pop," he said at the same time J.R. whined, "Don't call me Junior." The two men grinned and headed up the bank. Johnny slapped J.R. on the back and the slap was rewarded with a punch. The punch started a shoving match which ended with J.R. seated on the trail. Johnny giggled and took off at a dead run, J.R., swiftly recovering, in hot pursuit. Both men arrived at the campsite in short order. By unspoken agreement, Johnny cleaned the fish and put them on ice while J.R. threw together some sandwiches and fruit for a picnic lunch. Then the two turned toward the trail that lead to the waterfall. "Ya know, I kind of wish Chris and Mr. D were here," J.R. piped up. "We'll find another time to all come back up here together. For now, I'm glad it's just the two of us." "I guess. Maybe next time we can bring Jen." "Don't count on it, Junior," Johnny advised, seeing his son's wistful look. "At least not until after you two are married." The look became even more wistful. "Remember your promise, J.R." "Yeah, I know. But it sure would be nice at night, by the campfire..." "...you in your sleeping bag by the fire and Jennifer locked securely in Jo's station wagon, with Roy sleeping in front of the tailgate," Johnny finished. They easily found the trail to the cave, but by common consent did not go in. Instead they hiked to the waterfall and climbed up to the ledge overlooking the pool. Johnny and J.R. sat on the ledge gazing at the waterfall, listening to the sound of the cascade as it splashed its way over the rocks to break the surface of the pool below. "Did you ever want to be anything besides a fireman, Dad?" J.R. queried. "Sure, I've wanted to be lots of things," replied his father. "Like what?" "A knight in shining armor, a cowboy, a lion tamer..." "I mean since you became an adult." "That was since I became an adult." "Dad!" "What?" Johnny put on his most innocent expression. "I'm being serious here." "So was I...okay, okay." Johnny picked up a pebble and tossed it into the pool, formulating his answer as the missile made a satisfying PLINK! in the clear water below the ledge. "I've always wanted to be a fireman; even as a kid my cousin Billy and I used to pretend with a wagon and a garden hose. After about the third time we put out the fire in the barbecue, my dad was ready to skin us alive." Johnny snickered, remembering the satisfying hiss of steam as he soaked the charcoal briquettes. Supper came very late and the two 'would-be firemen' spent the rest of the evening in Johnny's room giggling over the expressions on their parents' faces. J.R. smiled at the story, secretly envious of his dad for having a cousin with whom to share his misadventures. "You were a pain in the butt, weren't you?" "Yup." "Where's Billy now? Will I get to meet him?" Johnny's expression clouded and J.R. knew the response would not be a happy one. "No. Billy died of leukemia several years ago." J.R. sighed at the loss of another interesting relative he would never get to meet. "So why did you become a paramedic? Why not an engineer?" "Well, a couple of reasons, I guess. I was part of a search and rescue team for the first four years, and I loved it. But it was frustrating to be so limited in the type of assistance we could give the victims. And Roy DeSoto was a helluva salesman. He says I talk him into things...but he got that earnest look on his face---you know the one---and gave his sales pitch about how desperately paramedics were going to be needed. I found myself signing on the dotted line before I realized I'd done it. You'd think he was the one that needed rescuing. '...just six men for six-and-a-half million people,' he told me. He made it sound like they were all lined up waiting for those six guys." "Did you have second thoughts?" "Second...and third and fourth. I was ready to quit and go back to plain old search and rescue. Our hands were tied with so much red tape before the assembly bill passed, that I found myself holding blankets and directing traffic instead of treating victims. It seemed to be such a waste of time. But Roy managed to persuade me to hang in there...and eventually the bill passed. Just in time, too, to save a heart attack victim." "Do you miss it? ...being a paramedic?" J.R. watched his father from the corner of his eye. Johnny and Roy loved to reminisce about old times, and there was often a wistful look in both captains' eyes when they discussed past rescues. "Do I miss it? Sometimes. We did it longer than anybody else in the department. You can't just stop and walk away---it's...it's...I guess it gets in your blood, ya know?" J.R. nodded absently and fiddled with a piece of grass, winding it around his fingers before breaking it into small pieces. He watched the bits of grass float downward toward the pool. "Jen doesn't want me to be a paramedic. She told me that her mom spent too much time worrying about her dad. She doesn't want to always wonder if I'm coming back home the next morning." Jeez, thought Johnny, he and Jennifer are talking like their future is a foregone conclusion. "Sometimes I thought Joanne was going to kill me whenever Roy got hurt." A smile teased at the corner of Johnny's lips. "Was it your fault?" "No, but I wasn't taking care of my partner well enough to suit her." "That's crazy. Mr. D's a grown man." "J.R., your partner is like your brother. You watch each other's backs, listen to each other's problems...and feel guilty when the other one gets hurt. You always think, 'it should have been me', or 'if only I'd paid more attention'." "I never had a brother," J.R. stated quietly. Johnny sighed. "I know." Talk about making me feel guilty! "You could still give me one, you know." "Whaa...?" Johnny's head snapped up. J.R. wore a smirk and his eyes twinkled merrily, as if to say 'gotcha'. "Well, can't you?" "Funny, J.R. Ha, ha." At length, they returned to camp. Immediately Johnny started a campfire while J.R., still the more expert chef, seasoned the fish and wrapped potatoes in foil to place on the coals. He rooted through the supplies for some cinnamon and sugar, then cored a couple of apples, sprinkled them with the spices, and wrapped them in foil as well. When the fire settled down to low, steady flames, J.R. used a stick to tuck the potatoes and apples among the coals, then sat back to relax. Johnny joined him, staring at the flames and enjoying the warmth of the fire as it kept the chill of the evening at bay. "Why search and rescue?" J.R. inquired out of the blue. "Huh?" "Why did you go for search and rescue? Why not just an ordinary fireman, like me?" Johnny shuddered at old memories before answering offhandedly, "It seemed like a good idea at the time." "Oh," his son replied. "I thought it might have something to do with those nightmares." Johnny looked sharply at J.R. "How do you know about those?" "They're pretty bad, huh? You had one again last night, remember?" "You knew about them before?" I thought I'd kept those from everybody, Johnny thought. I wonder how much he knows about them? "You have them every once in a while at home," his son admitted. "Up until now I thought they were just about rescues gone sour, but they aren't are they? Last night you were terrified. You said my mom's name, begging for forgiveness, and you called out to Billy. You've called his name before in your sleep, but I never knew who he was until now." Johnny picked up a small stick and proceeded to break it into small pieces, then threw them one by one into the fire. "No, they weren't about rescues, and yes, I guess becoming a rescue man had something to do with the nightmares. You see, I was out with your mom the night my parents died. If I had been with them instead..." "Did you usually go with them?" J.R. inquired. "No, not very often," Johnny admitted, "I wasn't usually welcome at the family functions." "How did the accident happen?" The elder Gage sighed and templed his fingers before his face. "They said my dad stopped to avoid a deer. It was late at night. He hit the brakes suddenly and the car behind couldn't stop. It plowed into my parents' old Bel-Air and sent it skidding into the other lane of traffic where it was hit by an oncoming farm truck. I guess they were killed instantly. My grandfather never allowed the caskets to be opened." Johnny shuddered, "I never saw them again. It was like...like it never happened; like they just disappeared. I yelled goodbye before I went out on my date. Mom...hell, I remember Mom calling, 'Drive safely, John,' as I left. I just waved one hand and took off. I never dreamed I'd never see them again." J.R. stood and put a hand on his father's shoulder. "You lost them both at once. I'm sorry, Dad. I'm...I'm glad I found you." Johnny shifted, anxious to break the mood, and eyed J.R. "Who found who?" he asked. J.R. ignored the question and went to fetch the fish. He tossed it into the pan and set it onto the fire, then used his stick to turn the potatoes and apples, which began to emit a tantalizing aroma. Johnny poured milk in two tin cups and set them near their respective logs. When the fish was done to a turn, J.R. filled the plates and handed one to his father. "What could you have done if you'd been in the car?" "I don't know," Johnny admitted, "something..." "Would you have survived?" Johnny pulled into the junkyard, stopping his old truck just inside the fence. The owner came out of the small shack that served as an office as the young man stepped out of the cab. "Mornin'" Johnny said hesitantly. "Mornin' young fella, what can I do for ya? Are ya here to buy or here to donate?" The grizzled old man rubbed his bald pate and laughed at his own humor. Johnny's jaw tightened. "I want to see the Gage car," he stated. "The which?" the old man asked. "The Gage car. It's an old blue Bel-Air. The police said it was towed here yesterday morning." "Oh, that one," the man recalled. "That was a bad one for sure. They said the folks inside were beat up real bad. Yes, sir, not much left worth salvaging, if you planned to buy it. I'm intendin' to sell it for scrap." "I still want to see it," Johnny informed him, ramming his hands into the pockets of his jeans to keep them from shaking. "It was my parents' car." "Hey, I'm really sorry, young fella," the man said, shaking his head in sorrow. "I wouldn't look at it if I was you. It's pretty bad. Yes sir, pretty bad. You don't want to see that." "Where is it?" Johnny managed to choke out. Still shaking his head, the old man led the way to the rear of the yard where the Bel-Air sat in isolation, a pile of twisted metal. Johnny gulped to choke down the bile that suddenly filled his throat and approached the wreckage of what had been the family car. Pieces of the blood-spattered windshield littered the interior with shards of glass. The engine block crowded its way into the front seat while the rear seat had been crunched into an almost unrecognizable mass of metal, springs and fabric. The teenager's body began to spasm and shake. The shaking gave way to violent wretching that only ended with the dry heaves. Finally he began to sob. "Mom!" came the strangled cry. "Dad!" Johnny fell to his knees, tortured, anguished and alone. "No," Johnny whispered, "I wouldn't have survived. "And I would have been an orphan when my mother died," J.R. said softly. J.R. cleaned up the dishes and put away the cooking supplies while his father just stared into the dying flames of the campfire. He laid out the bedrolls and watched as Johnny slipped soundlessly into his. From his place on the other side of the fire, J.R. said, "Not to be selfish, Dad, but I'm really glad you weren't in that car." "Me too," Johnny agreed. And for the first time, he meant it. J.R. elected to drive first while Johnny slept, enjoying the solitude and total lack of cars on the highway. His father would have to deal with the heavier traffic as they got closer to L.A. As the Rover rounded a bend in the road, J.R. jerked the wheel to the left in order to avoid hitting a very distraught woman. He estimated her to be in her early sixties, with silver hair and wide frightened eyes. She stood in the middle of the road waving frantically. A silver Pontiac sedan sat on the shoulder of the highway; J.R. could see the driver slumped over the wheel. "Dad, wake up; we have a situation!" J.R.'s louder than usual tone brought his father fully awake and Johnny burst out of the vehicle shortly after it came to a stop. J.R. hurriedly exited and trotted over to the frantic woman. "It's my husband," she cried, "please help him. I don't know what to do." "Okay, now the best thing you can do for him is to calm down and answer some questions," J.R. told her. "My dad has gone to help your husband. He's certified as a paramedic in L.A. County, so your husband is in good hands. Can you tell me what happened, Mrs...." "Cooper," the woman answered, "Wilma Cooper. My husband Thomas and I were on our way to Bakersfield. He was driving, and everything was going just fine when he suddenly said he had indigestion. Then he pulled over to the side of the road, clutched his chest, and passed out. I didn't know what to do, so I just tried waving at cars. Six cars passed by...imagine, six...before you stopped." "Yes, ma'am, well you did the right thing. How long ago did this happen?" J.R. worked with Winston and Crawford long enough to know what questions to ask. "It's been about twenty minutes, I think," the woman answered. "Oh, please, is he going to be all right?" "We'll do everything we can, but we're gonna have to find a way to call an ambulance. You don't happen to have a CB radio, do you?" J.R. didn't have much hope, but it was worth a shot. "Well, we have one, but I don't know how to use it. It's my husband's hobby, not mine, and well..." J.R. cut her short, "Ma'am, I know how to use it, and we need to do that right now, okay?" The woman, still shaking, took two steps toward the car and fainted. J.R. managed to catch her as she fell. "Dad, we got smelling salts in the First Aid kit, right?" J.R. yelled. He hoped they did. Johnny nodded without looking up. J.R. carried the unconscious woman to the back of the Rover and laid her down inside. He grabbed the kit and dug out an ammonia capsule, broke it and waved it under her nose until she sputtered and opened her eyes. J.R. told her calmly to lie back and relax while he went to call for help and assist his father. Surprisingly, the woman complied without protest. The young man scooped up the First Aid kit and pulled two blankets from the Rover; one he used to cover the woman who was beginning to shiver with reaction, and the other he tucked under his arm before trotting toward Johnny. "He's semi-conscious, but in pain and his breathing is rapid and shallow," Johnny informed him. "Help me get him out of here." The senior Gage watched approvingly as J.R. unrolled a blanket on the shoulder of the road then came to help him remove the victim from the car. After they carefully laid the man down on the blanket and loosened his clothing J.R. went to radio for assistance. Luckily he was able to reach the county dispatch who promised help within minutes. "J.R., he's stopped breathing...I got no pulse! Tell them to step on it!" The younger Gage relayed the information and quickly ran to help his father. Johnny started CPR while J.R. checked the airway and began rescue breathing. After a few minutes, they switched places---J.R. doing the chest compressions and Johnny administering mouth-to-mouth. With half of his mind, Johnny kept an eye on his son, watching for any sign of distress. J.R. caught one of his father's anxious looks. "I'm all right," he said, still counting compressions. The senior Gage nodded, not completely convinced, but content to let it ride for the moment. The distant whine of a siren hit their ears like welcome music. The sheriff braked his car, swerving in a semi-circle to halt across the road, blocking both lanes of traffic. Lights flashing and siren blaring, an old converted hearse, painted white, pulled up beside the Gages and their patient. Two ambulance attendants in blue jeans and white t-shirts erupted from the front seat and ran to pull a gurney from the rear. These guys mean business, Johnny thought approvingly as the two men smoothly and rapidly applied oxygen and hoisted the victim onto the gurney. Johnny jumped into the ambulance, one of the attendants hopping in beside him as they moved the patient through the rear door and slammed it shut. The victim's wife scooted out of the back of the Rover and came over to hover about the men delivering aid to her husband, wringing her shaking hands in consternation. Johnny elected to ride in with the patient, still administering CPR, while J.R. brought the patient's wife to the hospital in the Rover. The sheriff drove escort, promising to send someone back for the couple's car. The waiting ER staff quickly took charge of the patient and the two Gages promised to keep his frantic wife company in the waiting room until she had news of her husband. This hospital had its own version of Dixie McCall in Miss Porter. At fifty-five she was calm and efficient, caring...and in charge. With a smile at the woman's two companions, she shepherded the Wilma Cooper to a quiet corner of the waiting room and ensconced her in the least uncomfortable of the chairs while summoning a volunteer to provide the woman with coffee. The volunteer, at Miss Porter's request brought steaming cups of coffee as well for Johnny and J.R., who were reluctant to leave while Mr. Cooper's outcome remained in doubt. The head nurse approached the two men and looked at them closely for the first time. Her face registered surprise that was quickly covered by a friendly smile. "Mrs. Cooper was really rattled. She said her husband's rescuers were a young man and his father. She must have misheard when you said 'brother'." Miss Porter shook her head at what had to be an error. "No, ma'am," Johnny replied, "Mrs. Cooper heard right. I'm John Gage and this is my son J.R." By now Johnny was used to the surprise his introductions invariably engendered, and he found it amusing rather than irritating. "Oh. My, you're young to have a grown-up son, but then, I'm sure you've heard that a lot. I'm Carol Ann Porter, it's a pleasure to meet you. Most people wouldn't have known what to do for those people; how is it that you two did?" As Johnny prepared to reply to her question, J.R. elected to answer for them both. "My dad was a paramedic for eleven years with the L.A. County Fire Department, Miss Porter. He's a station captain now, but still holds his certification." Johnny looked at his son in surprise, gratified by the pride evident in the young man's voice. "And you, young man, you were pretty terrific yourself, from what I hear. Sheriff Fini had nothing but good things to say about you. Are you a paramedic too?" Unaware that she had touched on a sore point, Miss Porter watched the youth's face change to an unreadable mask. She wondered what she said wrong. "My son is a firefighter, Miss Porter. The paramedics he works with say he is an invaluable help to them." Johnny tried to smooth over the situation, wondering just what J.R. was finding to be depressed about now. "Gentlemen," a doctor from the ER approached them with his hand outstretched, "Mr. Cooper is recovering; he's going to be okay. That was a fine bit of lifesaving you did. There's no doubt he wouldn't be alive now if you two hadn't stopped." Miss Porter introduced the two Gages to the physician and they chatted about Mr. Cooper's condition and the paramedic program. Johnny noted that after meeting the doctor, J.R. seemed to come out of his dark mood and began to cast a longing eye at the hospital cafeteria. "Oh, hon, you're not that desperate," Carol Ann Porter told J.R., noting the direction of his glance. "But if you're hungry, the Whitetail Cafe is just up the road a ways. My sister works there, and if you tell Maddie that Carol Ann sent you, she'll treat you right." Conscious of the time, Johnny and J.R. paused long enough to bid the Coopers goodbye before heading to the Rover. They stopped at the Whitetail Cafe and were waited on by a younger version of Miss Porter...Maddie. Over hamburgers, pie and milk, Johnny discussed the rescue with his son. "I was really proud of you out there today, J.R. You handled yourself like a real pro. This incident didn't bother you, did it?" After a brief hesitation, J.R. made eye contact with his father. "It bothered me, all right, but not in the way you're probably thinking. Before last week I was seriously considering the paramedic program. I like search and rescue; I prefer it to fighting fires actually, but there are a couple of serious obstacles. First off, Jen. She told me she's glad that I ride the engine instead of the squad because it's safer. Then there's Chris. He's determined to be a fireman and work in the same station as me...but no way he will agree to being a paramedic. He's really counting on this, you know?" "J.R., what do YOU want? If you give up what you really want to do because of Jen and Chris, you might start to resent them for it." "Well, Dad, I was all ready to just sign up and hope things would work out, but then three days ago, I fell apart during that rescue and..." "Wait a minute!" Johnny stopped him with a raised hand. "First of all, you did not fall apart during a rescue. You fell apart after you had done all you could. Your part of the rescue was over and you reacted to your inability to save the victim. If you think this is the first time that has ever happened, forget it. Lots of paramedics---and firemen---have, at one time or another, been overwhelmed by a bad situation...I have. If you think you've seen the worst that fires and rescues can throw at you, you're wrong. Why do you think those guys circled around you? It's not because they were laughing at you, or feeling disgusted or sorry for you; it's because they've been there, where you sat, personally." "And another thing, Captain Riley said they all agreed never to bring it up unless you do. As far as 15's C-Shift is concerned, that whole episode never happened. They know that next time it could be one of them." J.R. sat staring into space, mulling over his father's words. They surprised him; he felt like the world's biggest fool for breaking down like he did. Now he found out that rather than disgust, his co-workers felt sympathy, even empathy. This confused matters even more. "I guess that just leaves Jen and Chris to consider," J.R. said at last. "Dad," he said looking Johnny in the eyes, "what would you do? What advice would you give me?" Johnny snorted. Here it is, the question I've been dreading for months. I'm tempted to tell J.R. to forget the whole thing and be happy with being a fireman who helps the paramedics sometimes. "My best advice," he began, looking at J.R.'s left ear to avoid eye contact, "is not to ask a parent whether he thinks his son should become involved in what he knows only too well is a highly dangerous line of work." "That's a cop-out, Dad," J.R. frowned. "It is indeed," Johnny agreed. "It's also the only answer you're gonna get from me." With that, Johnny stood up and sauntered over to the cash register. He flirted shamelessly with Maddie while she rang up their dinner bill and batted her fifty-year-old eyes right back at him, thinking him a cute 'boy'. Maddie Porter stared open-mouthed as Johnny said, "Maddie, you're good for my ego. Come on son, time to head home." Who would have thought that youngster was the cute boy's son? Well, she, Maddie Porter, was not old! No, Sir! J.R. headed for the driver's seat. "Hold it!" Johnny's words halted the younger man in his tracks. He paused as his father leaned against the door of the Rover. "What?" J.R. half expected a continuation of the conversation begun in the Whitetail Cafe. "This is beginning to seem too much like old times," Johnny said, shaking his head. The senior Gage pointed to himself emphatically. "I'm driving. You get your scrawny butt into the passenger's seat." J.R. smirked as he opened the passenger door and slid in. He closed the door and pulled out a pair of sunglasses, placing them on his face as his head tilted easily back against the vinyl upholstery. "My jeans are tighter," he remarked, smiling. "They are not!" Johnny argued, tooling the Rover out of the parking lot and on to the road. "Are too," his son replied softly, in a voice that implied, so there. THE END feedback for Nexxie back to the main page .