Just Because You're Paranoid... (Doesn't Mean They're Not Out To Get You) by Nexxie "STATION 51...UNKNOWN TYPE RESCUE 5112 LEWIS STREET ...5--1--1--2 LEWIS STREET...CROSS STREET SMITHERS TIME OUT 14:42" Sam Lanier's voice followed the tones calling C-Shift into action. "STATION 51 KMG-365," Captain John Gage acknowledged before tearing off the call slip and handing a copy to Charlie Dwyer in the squad. As always, Johnny felt a brief pang of envy as Dwyer's partner, Greg Manley, snatched the call slip and opened up the map book. Shotgun was an important position, and Gage had been good at it. Wish I were still there with you, Partner, he thought with a small sigh. Time didn't allow for more than that slight pang however, as Gage sped around the front of the squad and leapt into the seat beside Engineer Marco Lopez. "Let's roll, Marco!" Johnny yelled over the roar of Big Red's engine. Marco smiled as he pulled the engine out behind the squad and roared off to the rescue scene. I wonder if Johnny will ever slow down, he wondered. FF/PM Gage used to run to the squad at each response, stopping at a preset spot so he could make a controlled slide to the passenger door. Now he had a spot marked in his mind from where he could slide to his door in the engine. Gage as a captain was really hard to get used to at first...really hard. In fact, it took a near tragedy to unite C-Shift as "Johnny's Crew". All of the guys on C-Shift worked with Johnny at one time or another when he was a paramedic. With the expenses of his ranch often exceeding the normal paycheck of a fireman, Gage worked a considerable amount of overtime on different shifts at different stations. As a result, he was well known and generally well liked. In the beginning, Johnny's crazy, carefree reputation made the crew of C-Shift ready to accept him as a welcome replacement for the heavy-handed Captain Hook. They knew the personality quirks disappeared when the tones sounded--Johnny became all business when there were lives on the line. They learned to trust him pretty quickly as he took charge at the scene of a response--he proved to be capable and quick to size up the situation. His orders were clear, correct and timely, and he never lacked in concern for the safety and well-being of his men. At the station though, things were very different. Johnny didn't seem to know how to act. To begin with, the men who were used to calling him "Johnny" or just "Gage" found it difficult to think of the slender, shaggy-haired former paramedic as "Cap". For Marco, it was especially tough; to him the affectionate term "Cap" belonged to Hank Stanley. From the first Johnny tried too hard, sure that his reputation as a fun-loving mental lightweight wasn't the stuff firefighters wanted for their captains. His gullibility where The Phantom was concerned was as legendary as his partnership with Roy DeSoto. He was determined to maintain some kind of dignity and overcome his past. For the first several weeks Johnny was like a fish out of water, never sure just where he should be around the station, or what he should be doing. He was uncomfortable with the level of formality that separated him from the rest of the crew, and while he tried to find a way to relate, the men felt that he was hovering disapprovingly and even spying on them. After lots of nervous glances and rather obvious attempts to avoid his company, Johnny decided that a captain's place was in the office--and he retreated there for most of the shift. But how the heck was he going to earn the respect and confidence of his men if he hid in the office all the time? It was a real dilemma. Even Marco Lopez and Charlie Dwyer were uneasy around him. ************* Marco Lopez, Chet Kelly and Mike Stoker met for lunch at "The Extinguisher", a new favorite watering hole, about five weeks after Gage took over as C-Shift captain. "...I'm telling you, guys," Marco complained, "some of the fellas are beginning to miss Hookrader." "Captain Hook!" Kelly exclaimed, "C'mon, Marco, nobody could be worse than Cap'n Hook. Gage can't be that bad!" "Yeah," Stoker added, "how can that be?" "I mean, really, what's he doin'? makin' ya all do latrine duty over and over?" Chet shivered at the nightmare memory of Hookrader's voice saying, 'Scrub, Kelly, scrub!" "No, no," Marco said impatiently. "We could handle polishing and drills and being told to work harder if that's all it was." Kelly looked at Marco in astonishment. "You mean GAGE does all that crap?" "No! I said we could handle it if he did. No, he's fair with work assignments. We only do drills until he's sure we can do the task, and he says, 'clean is clean--no need to rub the paint off'." "So, I don't get it," Chet said in bewilderment. "What's the problem?" "He's just not Johnny Gage anymore," Marco said sadly. "He's not...anybody. It's like he doesn't even know who he is. He just wanders around the station lost until, finally, he hides out in the office." "How does he handle things at a response?" Mike asked with a concerned frown. "Stoker, we're all thrilled to hear the tones!" Marco replied. "When we get to the scene, he's a great incident commander. Once he has something to take charge of, Johnny is totally professional. Heck! I hate to say it, but at the scene of a fire, he's as good as Cap ever was. And when we get called out with 99's, he and Roy just fall back into working as a team. They end up bringing out the best in everybody." Marco frowned. "It's just like Johnny Gage is two different people in one body." "It sounds like Johnny needs his friends," Stoker stated seriously. "It sounds to me like he's just taking himself way too seriously," Chet added. "If he could go back to just being 'Johnny', I think we could all be happy," Lopez grumped. After a moment's thoughtful silence, Chet got an impish twinkle in his eye. As he worried the ends of his mustache between his fingers he announced, "I think that Captain Pigeon needs a visit from The Phantom." ************ Engineer Marco Lopez kept watch outside the office, a wary eye out against the untimely return of B-Shift's Captain Brady, while Chet finished working his magic. The two already made some visits to other areas of the station and Marco was getting worried. Time was running out...only fifteen minutes until shift change. I sure hope you know what you're doing, Amigo, he thought. Humming tunelessly under his breath, Chet exited the captain's office and darted quickly out of the building. He jumped into Marco's car and took off. They agreed that if Johnny spotted Chet's car in the parking lot, he would get suspicious. Marco would get a ride over to Chet's and pick up his car after shift change tomorrow. As Johnny Gage arrived at the station and pulled into his usual spot in back, he flipped up his wrist to look at his watch. Since taking over as captain he had never arrived at work less than twenty minutes before the beginning of shift. It took a considerable effort on his part to get up earlier and be more organized in the mornings, but he doggedly persisted until being early to work became a habit. Being a captain sure makes a big difference in pay, he admitted to himself, which has really helped out with the ranch. And the work is less dangerous overall than the risks I took as a paramedic. Plus, once Roy decided to go for the promotion, I didn't want a new partner. I guess I took that test because I had no reason not to. Somehow that seems unfair to those guys in there. I mean who wants to work for somebody that became their captain because he had nothin' better to do? I wouldn't want to. I wouldn't like a guy like that either. With a look at the open bay door, Johnny sighed. At the beginning I looked forward to this job, but walking into that building gets harder every day. Heck, I have a good crew--they know their job and do it exceptionally well--but I just can't seem to "click" with them around the station. I can feel the tension every time I walk into the room. I really hate that. Captain Stanley once told me that A-Shift was too quiet and boring whenever I was out on sick leave or vacation. Now it seems like the opposite is true--I cheer everybody up by leaving. Even Marco has a hard time being civil anymore, and he doesn't have a mean bone in his body. Man, I even spend most of each shift in my office so I don't ruin everybody's day. I've run out of paperwork to do, for crying out loud! How did I do that? Cap never ran out of paperwork. Geez, last shift I even ate in my office so I wouldn't ruin everybody's dinner. This just can't go on! I can't be a captain to these guys by hiding in my office. What am I gonna do? Maybe taking this promotion was a mistake. Maybe I should step down for everybody's sake. Hell, I sure hate being a quitter, but it looks like stickin' with this job is hurtin' everybody else. Man, I wish I was back in the squad with Roy! But Roy isn't there anymore. I wonder how he's doin' over at 99's? We don't even see each other on our days off now. He's always spending his off time with the guys in his crew. Guess they must really like him a lot. I don't blame them. I spend my days off with my horses. At least those guys still love me. Feeling very sorry for himself, Captain John Gage exited his Land Rover and walked with heavy steps into Station 51. There was only ten minutes until roll call and he still hadn't gone over the duty roster or checked for any department memos. B-Shift's Captain Brady was surprised to see Gage come in so late...for him. Usually he greeted the younger man about fifteen minutes earlier than this. Oh, well, he sipped his coffee thoughtfully, everyone has an off day. Johnny called a subdued greeting to the tired B-Shift crew as they gathered awaiting the arrival of C-Shift. He picked up the clipboard and checked the duty roster for today, nodding as it jived with his memory. He looked up to see the smiling face of Captain Jeff Brady as he handed over the logbook and a couple official memos--Gage would give them the once-over and post them later. Jeff's smile was like water to a thirsty man, Johnny thought. He wondered if Jeff knew how much it meant to him. Probably. John smiled back. Dwyer and Manley sauntered into the dayroom, obviously in the midst of an animated argument. As they spotted Johnny they immediately fell silent. John's jaw muscles tightened and he queried, "Is there a problem, gentlemen?" "No, Captain Gage," they replied nearly in unison--just like he and Roy used to do. It grated on Johnny that after six weeks he was still "Captain Gage". Not Cap. A sure sign that his men were uncomfortable with his leadership. The rest of the crew ambled in making a silent beeline for the coffeepot. With a sigh Johnny said his ritual, "Gentlemen, roll call in five minutes," before heading to his office. Tossing the logbook to the desktop where it made a satisfying SMACK! Johnny sat at the captain's desk and rested his face in his open palms. Man, Roy, I sure wish I could talk to you right now, Partner. I thought this was gonna be a good idea...but it wasn't. I gambled on this promotion and lost everything. But hey! I'm still certified. I can still work as a paramedic. That's it! I'm gonna talk to Chief McConikee and see if I can go back to my old job...John Gage, FF/PM! With a look at his watch John stood and grabbed the clipboard. He took a deep breath and said to himself, I can do this one more time. "Good morning, gentlemen," Johnny addressed C-Shift as they lined up in the apparatus bay. Five pairs of eyes stared straight ahead. Not even a mumbled 'good morning' this time, Johnny thought angrily. Okay. Fine! His jaw clenched tightly and it took a conscious effort to relax. "Lopez, you have the kitchen today. Taylor...dormitory. Manley and Dwyer, there's plenty of hose to hang. Konnitsky, the front lawn needs attention. Dismissed." Five pairs of eyes watched their captain return to his office without a backward glance. "I don't get it," Konnitsky shook his head. "He didn't assign anyone to latrine detail." As the youngest member of the crew Dave Konnitsky seemed to need an explanation for everything. Dwyer snorted in derision, "Maybe he didn't want anyone looking in the toilet--they might see his career." "That's enough, Charlie," Marco said half-heartedly, aware that from his office Gage had probably heard every word. He was right. Well, there it is, Johnny thought, they all figured it out before I did. As the members of C-Shift scattered to work on their assigned details, with the exception of Marco Lopez who stood just outside the office door, John pulled the phone toward him and called Chief McConikee. After a few moments of general pleasantries, Gage explained his request. "John, I wish you would reconsider. I've watched you at a fire and you have the makings of a really good captain." "Chief, I've made up my mind. Since I left the paramedics, I'm a fish out of water. My men don't want anything to do with me. So far it hasn't affected us on a call. But, given time, this animosity could end up costing lives. I can't live with that possibility." "Let me think about it, John." McConikee could understand Gage's reasoning, and respected the concern he had for the men under him. "The Department doesn't hand out promotions lightly, and I don't know how it will feel about taking one back. It could be that if you do this you won't have another opportunity." "I'm aware of that, Sir, but at this point I believe my choices are either to go back to where I was or leave the Fire Department altogether. This was the wrong step for me, Chief. That's become very clear." There was a sigh on the other end. "Tell you what, Gage. Call me again next shift. If you still feel the same way, we'll take the necessary steps. Until then, John, sit tight and hang in there, okay?" Johnny mumbled, "Fine, Chief--one last shift. I guess I can do that." Marco moved rapidly away from his position outside John's office. He wished it hadn't come to this, but if Chet's idea didn't work, maybe it was for the best. Moments later they were toned out to a structure fire. John responded to the dispatcher, handed the call slip to the squad and hurrying to the engine, took his place beside Marco. "Let's roll, Marco." Johnny said in nearly a whisper. At the scene, Johnny took charge with his usual professionalism, anticipating intuitively where each of his men was needed most. He felt truly alive at moments like this. It was the same innate ability that had made him an exceptional paramedic. But he had to live between responses as well. Back at the station, Johnny took off his turnout coat and removed his helmet. The crew stared at him bug-eyed before turning their backs to hide the laughter. Puzzled, Johnny went to the latrine to clean up. "SON OF A BITCH!" C-Shift heard their captain scream. A narrow line of bootblack ran across Gage's forehead and down his jawline on either side to beneath his chin. Someone had blacked the inside front of his helmet and chinstrap. Great, John thought, it's not enough that they give me the silent treatment, now they wanna humiliate me. After a thorough scrubbing that left his skin raw and nearly bleeding, only a faint trace of the blacking remained. Johnny retrieved his helmet and retreated angrily back to his office...he was really beginning to hate this place. Paper towels soaked with rubbing alcohol removed the rest of the boot black from his helmet. He kept it with him in the office for now. His skin couldn't take another scrubbing like that. A short while later the tones rang out again. This time it was an MVA involving multiple vehicles and probable injuries. Stations 127, 118 and 99 were toned out with 51. Roy was the incident commander this time and directed the rescue and recovery operations flawlessly. For the first time Johnny felt a pang of jealousy and resentment. He quickly pushed those feelings down, remembering this was Roy, his best friend. He should be--no he was--proud of his pal. Gage quickly snapped back into "professional firefighter" mode and helped carry his share of the burden. The squad was called out twice more and the engine once, making lunch catch as catch can. Things slowed down a bit in the afternoon and Johnny settled down to do his reports, taking a sandwich into his office and leaving the crew to their meal in peace. With a sigh he picked up the circulars that needed to be posted in the dayroom. As he recalled, there were no extra pushpins in the bulletin board, he would have to get some out of his desk. The men in the kitchen were joking around over their belated lunch when they heard a loud screech from the captain's office followed by cursing and an ominous crash. Marco, wondering what exactly Chet had done in there, was the first to arrive. He found Gage on the floor, the back of the chair beneath him and the seat upside down across the room, wheels still spinning. A large rubber snake was laying across Johnny's chest. Their captain was staring angrily at the ceiling tiles above his head. "Are you okay, Johnny," Marco asked anxiously. "Uh, I mean Captain Gage?" "Fine!" Johnny ground out between clenched teeth, making no attempt to move. Dwyer and Manley peeked in over Marco's shoulder to see if there was any need for their services. "I'm fine, gentlemen," Johnny told them. "The show's over." After the crew returned to their meal, their murmurs accompanied by some soft snickers, their captain sat up gingerly and felt the back of his skull. It was tender, but not bleeding. He shook his head to clear up a brief dizzy spell and quickly regretted the motion. I'm gonna have a headache out of this, he sighed. Man, Chet would've loved to see this! An examination of the chair showed that it was not broken. It had been partially disassembled. Johnny began to wonder what else was in store for him when the station was toned out again. This time it was a chemical fire. The building was fully involved and Gage called for a second alarm assignment. It was a tough blaze, but Johnny's vigilance kept it from being a man-eater. There were no injuries to civilians or firefighters beyond some minor cases of smoke inhalation. Four long hours later C-Shift pulled back into the station. None of his weary crew could complain about the way Johnny had handled the fire scene. He seemed to be everywhere at once coordinating the various station crews, watching for hazardous developments and keeping tabs on his men. At times he was backing them up on the hoses, sometimes holding lifelines. Even when time for clean up finally came, nobody worked harder than 51's captain. He even remembered to thank his men for a job well done before they loaded up to return to the station. The fumes from the fire had thoroughly permeated John's clothes and he was anxious to shower and change. Wearily opening his locker for a fresh uniform, there was a brief flash of white and then darkness. Johnny seethed as he scooped and scraped a good three inches of shaving cream away from his face. The foam served to burn his eyes and irritate the already sensitive abrasions on his face from earlier in the day. Blindly he tried to make his way to the sink to rinse off the painful substance. Forgetting about the bench between his locker and the latrine, he tripped over it and fell headlong, scraping his shins on the bench and bruising his forearms as he landed on them on the hard tile floor. C-Shift heard another loud string of epithets from the latrine. Konnitsky rose to investigate. The others remembered Gage's reaction to the earlier incident in his office and chose to remain at their places in front of the television. Marco, knowing Chet had done something to Johnny's locker and figuring it was the usual water bomb, began preparations for dinner, smiling slightly. By the time Dave Konnitsky arrived at the bathroom, Gage was rinsing his eyes in the sink and muttering to himself. With a shrug, the young fireman returned to the dayroom. His eyes blurred and feeling like they were on fire, Johnny thought dispiritedly, you didn't have to do all this, guys, I'm quitting anyway. After a quick shower and change of uniform, the defeated captain fetched his tool kit from the rover and set at putting his chair back together. If they wanted to confirm my decision to leave, Johnny vowed, they couldn't do a better job. I thought I would escape this kind of stupid nonsense once I made captain...but I guess once a pigeon, always a pigeon. Why do people do this stuff to me? What did I do to them? ************* Marco outdid himself for dinner and the men made appreciative noises as they sat down to eat. When Gage failed to appear for yet another meal, possibly because no one thought to call him, banter around the table was generally lighthearted. Johnny, his stomach pinching from hunger, smelled the delicious aroma emanating from the kitchen and decided to see if he could stand to join them for one last meal. Marco, in a low voice, was relating to the others the gist of the conversation he overheard earlier between their captain and Chief McConikee. There was a few minutes of silence, during which Johnny waited just outside the kitchen door to find out their reaction. "Man," Dwyer said at last, "that's sad, but I can't say I'm sorry. I always liked Gage just fine before he got promoted. This is probably the best thing that could happen for him...or us." Squeezing his eyes together to hold back the pain of his reaction, Johnny was cut to the heart by Charlie's words. A wave of dizziness and nausea overtook him and he grabbed the doorframe to keep from falling. When he opened his eyes they refused to focus. Well, he thought, between that chemical fire and the shaving creme, I'm a wreck. Maybe if I just lay down for a few minutes things will clear up. It isn't like I have anything else to do. Supper forgotten, he made his way across the apparatus bay toward the dormitory. The captain watched his bunk spin and sway as he put out a hand on the divider wall to steady himself. He eased himself down onto the mattress, which suddenly felt inordinately full of small hard lumps. Pushing himself wearily off the mattress he jerked back the covers and was rewarded with a veritable waterfall made up of hundreds of marbles. The colorful cascade turned into a fast-moving rainbow river that scattered quickly in all directions, some surrounding his feet, others rolling crazily under the bunk. "ALL RIGHT, DAMMIT, ENOUGH'S ENOUGH!" Gage shouted. Wondering what on earth could have happened to their captain now, the crew came running out of the kitchen and searched for their leader until they found him, infuriated, standing in the dormitory surrounded by a sea of marbles. Dizzy, eyes refusing to focus, and pushed beyond the limits of his temper, Gage took a wavering step toward the men who had become his tormentors. One step, however, was one too many. As the men watched in horror, unable to stop the inevitable, Johnny's foot came down on several marbles and flew out from under him. Out of control, arms flailing, he crashed to the floor. An ominous and audible snap as he reached a hand back to break his fall was followed by the sickening thud of his head impacting the tile floor, seeming to bounce before his body became still. After a moment of disbelief, Dwyer went into paramedic mode. "Marco, call in a still alarm, we're gonna need an ambulance here. Konnitsky, get me the backboard out of the squad. Manley, we're gonna need splints and the drug box and biophone. Taylor, get these damned marbles outta the way!" Everyone rushed to do the senior paramedic's bidding as he knelt beside their downed captain. ************** "Well, hello, stranger," Johnny heard a familiar female voice intone from somewhere behind his head. He tried to focus his aching eyes, but the brightness of the overhead lighting made keeping them closed much less painful. The familiar smell of antiseptic told him without visual input exactly where he was. Rampart. How did I get here, he wondered? Dr. Kelly Brackett leaned over to force open each eyelid in turn and check his pupils while somebody, he supposed it was Dixie, took his pulse and blood pressure. The familiar routine began. "Name?" Brackett asked. "John...um...Gage." I think. "What day is it?" "Wednesday?...no huh?" It was Friday. "Just relax, Johnny," Kel sighed. "You got a pretty good knock on the head." Sudden discomfort made Johnny lurch upright. "Doc, I'm gonna..." As if by magic, or at least Dixie's quick reflexes, a familiar dull gold emesis basin appeared beneath Johnny's chin. Kel and Dixie helped support him as he emptied the contents of his rebellious stomach. "Thanks," Johnny said weakly as the basin was taken away and Dixie wiped his face with a cool damp cloth. "Con...cussion?" he guessed. "Probably. That and a broken wrist," Brackett agreed. "My friend, you have not one, but two good-sized bumps on your hard skull and several small bruises on your back. I'm interested to hear an explanation. Also you can tell me about those extremely irritated bloodshot eyes and the abrasions on your face. Charlie Dwyer didn't seem to know about anything but the fall that broke your wrist." "C...can't." Gage replied woozily. "Can't, or won't, Johnny?" Brackett said skeptically. "I d-don't know what you mean." Johnny refused to tell anyone that the damage was a result of his own men trying to get rid of him. That was between him and them. "Yeah," Kel shook his head. "Right! Anyway you've earned a night in the Rampart Hotel--at least a night. Depending on what the x-rays tell us, it may be more." "Doc, I can't stay here. I gotta get back to the station." "Not on your life, Pal," the doctor told him, arms crossed as if to say that was his final word on the subject. "After we get pictures of that hard head of yours, you're probably on your way to orthopedics to get that wrist set and then to the reserved 'Gage Suite' upstairs." "Doc," he began impatiently, "I got responsibilities...my men..." "...are right outside waiting to hear how you are doing." Kel finished for him. You're kidding. "They are?" Johnny asked in total surprise. "Well, of course." "There's no 'of course' about it," Johnny muttered, a little more loudly than he thought. "Would you care to explain that?" Kel asked, becoming suspicious. "Not really, Doc. Forget I said it." "Johnny, if there's something going on..." "There isn't!" Johnny insisted earnestly before raising a hand to his aching head. "Let's just get this over with, okay?" Reluctantly Kelly Brackett let the subject drop as the portable x-ray was wheeled into the room. After issuing instructions to the technician, Kel heard Johnny exhale in relief before he and Dixie left the treatment room to face the anxious group awaiting them outside. ************** After a very long night, Johnny Gage was lying in his hospital room staring at the wall unseeingly. For all the remarks he had made about Hookrader, it seems he hadn't fared any better. Worse, in fact, Captain Hook retired after 29 years in the Department and Johnny was only up to fifteen--four years as a firefighter and eleven years as a paramedic. He wouldn't even make it one year as a station captain, Johnny thought morosely. I've never felt so alone and rejected in my life, he thought. My relatives never accepted me in the first place--I learned to live with that. But this, I thought these guys were my friends. Man, I can't deal with this. If I go back to being a paramedic, I have to work with the same people again, maybe even at 51's. It's time, John Gage, to move on. At this rate I won't live long enough to retire anyway. Better to pick another career while I'm still young enough to earn retirement benefits. At least it's my left wrist that's broken, Johnny thought. My right hand is still perfectly capable of writing my resignation from the Department. Unable to prevent it, a tear slipped quietly down his cheek, followed by another until a small moist circle spread on the pillow beside his ear. Frustrated with his own weakness, Johnny swiped impatiently at his eyes only to grimace as the roughness of his cast scraped harshly against the abrasions on the side of his face. From the sounds in the hall he guessed it must be close to nine o'clock. The tray carrying his unappetizing breakfast had come and gone untouched as he continued to lay facing the wall. How had he let the situation come to this? He wondered idly if he would be released this morning. Brackett should be in any time now to give him the news. How was he gonna get back to the station to pick up his Rover if he was released. Maybe the paramedics from A-Shift would give him a ride when they came in for a supply run. Marco Lopez and Charlie Dwyer sat in Dwyer's car staring at the floorboards. They were waiting for the rest of their shiftmates to arrive before they went into Rampart to see their captain. Marco was mentally composing his resignation from the department, his part in The Phantom's little series of Pigeon traps no small part of the guilt they all bore. Charlie too was reviewing his actions and words toward Johnny and seeing them in a much less favorable light. Taylor drove up and parked by Dwyer as Konnitsky pulled in right beside him. Manley drove Johnny's rover in, sure the captain would want his own as soon as he was released. It was, he felt, the least he could do. A silent sullen group gathered in the parking lot trying to come up with the courage to enter the hospital. Each was jarred from his own version of a guilt trip as Marco's fist suddenly impacted the top of Gage's truck. "We never gave him a chance, did we?" Konnitsky asked hoarsely. He was biting his lip and turned his head away suddenly to hide his emotions. Dwyer just shook his head and said, "Let's go." He led the group across the parking lot. He was unsure of their reception, but he knew they at least had to try. Johnny heard the scuffle of numerous feet outside his door before a timid knock announced the arrival of C-Shift. He looked up, seemingly without interest, as the five men filed in and stood in a small cluster just inside the doorway. None of them seemed very ready to talk. Since they're here, Gage decided, I guess I'll just say my piece and be done with it. "You know," Johnny began, "you really didn't have to go to all that trouble. I decided yesterday morning to resign from my position as captain. After all the fun you all had with me yesterday, I've changed my mind. I'm resigning from the Fire Department effective upon my release from the hospital. I've spent six weeks trying to figure out what I've done to all of you to so earn your dislike. Now, I guess it doesn't much matter. I really don't care anymore. Now, gentlemen, I would appreciate it if you would just leave me alone." The men turned to go, a picture of dejection, but Marco said, "Wait, guys." "Captain Gage..." Lopez began, "Johnny, I have a confession to make." Johnny turned and faced the wall. He didn't want confessions now. It was more than too late. "The things that happened to you yesterday didn't happen for the reason you think. All of those booby traps were set by The Phantom." Johnny just snorted in disbelief. "No, it's true! It really was Chet Kelly...but I put him up to it." "Why, Marco?" Johnny said looking at him in bewilderment, the hurt apparent in his soft brown eyes. "What did I ever do to you to make you want to hurt me?" Marco took a deep breath and assured him, "Nothing, John, it really wasn't about making you quit at all. You see, when you worked with us all on A-Shift and things got too tense, when bad fires and freeway pile-ups had us all mad and upset, all it took was one of The Phantom's pranks to make everybody laugh and lighten things up. You got mad, sure, but you took it in stride and everything was okay again." Johnny was looking at Marco in astonishment. Marco plunged on, "And when you came on as station captain, you seemed to have lost your sense of humor. You didn't laugh and joke with us or rant and rave about whatever was driving you crazy that day. It was like the Johnny Gage we all knew...and loved...was gone. You were a stranger. I was hoping a few of Chet's pranks would bring back your sense of humor and work could be fun again." "I guess it really backfired." Marco looked at his feet. "Instead of bringing back the fun I almost got you killed. I'm really sorry, John. You'll have my resignation at the beginning of next shift." "Wait a minute!" Gage said sternly, holding up a hand. "That's what this was all about? Me not acting like a goofy clown around the station? All this time...that's all it was?" He looked at each of the men in turn and they reluctantly nodded. "WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME THAT?" he yelled, then grabbed his head as the knifelike pain split his aching skull. After the pain subsided, Johnny emitted a bitter, humorless laugh. "Geez, I figured you guys would have no respect for me if I acted like I used to. Man! I don't believe this!" Johnny thumped the covers with his good hand several times. Charlie Dwyer looked sheepishly at John before venturing, "Look, could our old friend Johnny Gage come back to the station and give it another try? You might just be surprised at how much we respected HIM all along." Johnny looked at the men doubtfully. "We'd like you to try," Manley said softly. "We're sorry we never talked it over with you," Taylor added. "Will ya give us another chance?" Konnitsky asked. "Please...CAP?" said Charlie Dwyer. After a minute of hesitation, Johnny gave them all a big dopey grin and nodded, instantly regretting it. "OW!" he cried. I gotta stop doin' things like that. "Ok, I guess," he said, "BUT...Marco, no resignation--just latrine duty for a month." At Marco's look of protest, Johnny said with a smile, "well, I can't give it to Chet now, can I?" As the guys left the hospital room, relieved at the way things had turned out, they passed a concerned Captain DeSoto trying to push his way in and heard their captain exclaim, "Well where the hell have you been, Pally?!!!" Marco exhaled in relief. Everything was going to be okay. He couldn't wait to tell Chet and Mike. THE END <<<<<<<<<<<<E!>>>>>>>>>>>> Author's comments: "Thanks Janet for the grammar and spell checks and for being so quick to get this on the web. It's my first time being published and is a real thrill. Thanks also to Marty, Min, Sharon, Pattie, Icecat62, and Betty for your words of encouragement." feedback goes right here! |