OH CAPTAIN, MY CAPTAIN... by Nexxie "Johnny, how long have we been doing this?" Roy DeSoto took stock of the drug box and made a mental list of the supplies they would need from Rampart. "Doin' what?" Johnny Gage closed the trauma box and reached for the biophone to do the morning communications check with the hospital base station. "Working together as paramedics," Roy elaborated. "How long have we been doing this?" Roy wasn't one to bring up such a topic without some purpose, and Johnny felt a cold chill wash over him as he answered his partner's question. "Oh, 'bout eleven years, I guess, give or take. Why do you ask?" The senior paramedic hesitated, knowing his partner wouldn't like the direction in which he was about to steer the conversation. "I turned down the promotion to engineer about seven years ago, hoping the department would create some kind of advancement system within the paramedics." "I seem to recall that. Just a second...Rampart, this is County 51, how do you read?" Johnny knelt at the biophone awaiting the usual response. "I read you loud and clear, 51," Dixie McCall's voice came back over the speaker clear and static free, just like it had for the past eleven years. "10-4, Rampart. Have a nice day, Dix." Johnny put down the handset, closed the biophone and stood to put it back in the squad before reluctantly returning to the conversation. "Now, what's on your mind, Partner?" Roy cleared his throat. He'd be willing to bet that Johnny addressed him as 'Partner' just now on purpose to remind him of their friendship and all they'd been through together. Whether or not it was intentional, it worked. Roy's guilt complex kicked in and he nearly didn't resume the conversation he'd been rehearsing since the end of the last shift. He cleared his throat again, stalling. "Something bothering you, Pally?" It was definitely intentional. Dammit, Johnny, you're not gonna make this easy on me, are you? "Bothering me? Yeah, you could say that. Look, Johnny, Chris graduates high school this spring and we have enough money saved to pay for his first two years of college. But things are more expensive than we anticipated seven years ago." With swift, economical movements, the junior paramedic hefted the trauma box, drug box and O.B. kit into the right front compartment of the squad and closed the doors. Then he turned to face his partner and leaned back against the side of the vehicle. Gage crossed his arms and assumed an 'I'm listening' posture, but remained uncharacteristically silent. He looked like a man awaiting unpleasant news...fateful news. As he waited for what he pretty well knew was coming, Johnny recalled the last time they had this conversation. He'd been drying out the drug box and all the supplies after they---and Roy---went for an impromptu swim during a response. The call, a reported suicide attempt, turned out to be a false alarm. But it reminded Roy of all the nasty and unpleasant people they had to deal with every day and the messy nature of their job. He told Johnny then that he planned to take the promotion to engineer...and break up their partnership. I can still remember the sound of his still-wet shoes squishing, as he crossed the apparatus bay when he came to tell me he'd decided to leave. Of course later he changed his mind, but I had this same sick feeling that day. Shifting uncomfortably, Roy forced himself to continue, "Joanne and I worked out a budget based on my pay back then that would allow us to put our kids through college and start saving for retirement. We figured in emergencies, house payments, inflation...everything we could think of. But the paychecks haven't stretched as far as we anticipated and even scrimping and saving we won't be able to put both kids through college." Roy's voice held a tone of reluctance and finality. Like the last time, the balance tipped on the side of money. Telling himself not to panic, Johnny made a counter plea. "Hey, Roy, I have some money saved up...it isn't a lot...but whatever I have, you know you're welcome to it." The earnest concern and total selflessness of his partner's offer sent Roy's guilt trip into overdrive. "N-no, Johnny. I mean, thank you, but... Do you remember, you once asked me if I would be content to be a fireman all my life? And I said 'yes'? Well, I was wrong..." "Roy!" Johnny interrupted, "you're not leaving the Department?!!" Gage stood to his full height, his eyes widening in alarm. "No, Johnny," Roy reassured him, "but after talking it over with Joanne, I've pretty well decided to take the captain's exam next month." The announcement was like a physical blow. Fighting back a rising sense of nausea, Gage lowered his eyes, willing his feet to stay where they were and face this. He'd been upset enough when they got word that Hank Stanley passed the chief's board and would be leaving the station in a few weeks. Station 51 without Captain Stanley wouldn't be the same easygoing place to work. Without Roy it would be empty...just a job...a sometimes very unpleasant job. Somehow, I figured we'd just go on being 'Johnny and Roy' forever. Now he tells me he's breaking up the team. I don't think I can handle taking on a new partner. After a brief struggle, Johnny schooled his features to hide the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him and managed to infuse false cheer into his voice as he responded to his best friend. "That's good, Roy. I hope...I hope you make it. Heck, I know you will. You're smart and already have everybody's respect. I..." He broke off and clapped his friend on the shoulder. "You'll make a heck of a captain." Unable to continue the pretense of equanimity, Johnny walked over to the closet and pulled out his helmet and turnout coat, returning to place them at the ready in the squad. Then he headed toward the latrine, needing privacy to deal with this new development. Roy put his head on his crossed arms and leaned against Big Red. That was probably one of the most difficult conversations he'd ever had with his partner...much harder than last time. Johnny looked absolutely miserable. Seven years ago Gage managed to come up with a smile...a pathetic smile, but now...he just looked lost. *************** Two voices raised in argument emanated from the locker room. Chet Kelly and Marco Lopez were involved in a serious discussion. "I'll help you, pal," Marco told Chet. "I know we can both make it. Besides, you gotta try, it just won't be the same without Cap here. When we get a new captain, the Phantom's gonna have to retire, amigo, you can bet on that one. Do you think you could handle that?" "Hi," Johnny interrupted, "what's going on?" "This is a private conversation, Gage," Kelly informed him. It gave him no little satisfaction to turn the tables on the paramedic. Chet was usually the one excluded from conversations between Gage and his partner. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry." Johnny raised his hands in capitulation. Things were changing already, he could feel it in the air. Johnny went to the sink and splashed cold water on his face to appear as if he had a purpose in coming to the latrine. Keep busy, Johnny, he told himself. Keep busy so you don't have time to think about Roy leaving. I wonder what Chet and Marco were talking about? Mike Stoker wandered in to clean up after mowing and trimming the small grassy area in front of the station. Mike the quiet...Mike the unflappable...Mike the observant, asked him, "What's wrong, John?" "Nothin', Mike, why? Do I look like something is wrong?" Johnny's defensive bluster began to take over. "Yes," Mike answered calmly, "you do." Nothing like quiet honesty to cut through the crap, Johnny thought. With a sigh, he gave up any further attempt at denying the truth. Besides, here was somebody willing to listen. He'd be a fool to alienate Stoker too. "Roy's gonna take the captain's test." Johnny knew he didn't have to say any more than that. "So, what are you going to do?" Mike asked quietly. It was obvious Johnny was hurting. Zing! Another question hit the target. "I don't know... I never thought..." Johnny turned and leaned back against the sink, gazing at the floor intently. "I guess I'll break in a new partner. There isn't anybody left that's been in the program longer than me, so I'll finally be the senior paramedic. Maybe, at last, I'll get to drive." The words sounded lame, even to Johnny. "Lots of changes coming to the station, John, lots of changes to the Department." Mike shook his head sadly. He didn't particularly care for change. "Like what? Who besides Cap and Roy?" Johnny was almost afraid to hear the answer. "Well, Marco is going to try for engineer and he's about persuaded Chet to try again as well. Then Hookrader is finally retiring from C-Shift." "Roy might be his replacement," Johnny said hopefully; at least they would see each other at shift change. "Maybe," Mike admitted. "Or it could be Brice or Bellingham. They're both taking the captain's exam too." "Brice and Bellingham are going for captain?!!" Johnny shut his eyes, shaken. It was the eighth wonder of the world that those two managed to stay partners all these years. Maybe they found common ground in being misfits...who knew? Johnny swallowed painfully. It seemed everybody was moving up...everybody but him. "Well, at least I won't be partnered with Brice again." "No, but you might end up working for him." Mike's voice was still quiet, and held no hint of teasing. At Johnny's inquiring look, he explained, "Cap's going to be replaced too, remember?" The intense nausea returned. Gage covered his eyes with shaking hands and took deep breaths to quell the rising panic. "Well, I guess it'll just be you and me, Mike," he said after a minute, his shoulders drooping. He lowered his hands, "Unless you're planning to move up too." "No, John," Mike replied with a negative shake of his head. "I'm happy where I am and what I am. I guess we're a little bit alike. We both like our jobs and just want things to stay like they are now forever. It's going to be hard to lose the other guys; they're family, but I've still got Big Red." Mike didn't say anything about still having Johnny. After Roy left, he figured Johnny wouldn't stay long. The man didn't realize how much being Roy's partner was part of the attraction of his job---or maybe he did. Johnny just nodded and left. He didn't feel like talking anymore; he wasn't sure he could. With a wry smile he realized they'd reversed roles. Mike the Quiet Man was almost chattering, for him, and Johnny the ceaseless talker couldn't manage to say a word. Why can't we get a call when I need one? he thought. I need something to keep me from thinking about this. But no calls came. It was the slowest morning for the station in weeks. Johnny decided to do some preventive maintenance on the squad; anything to keep busy. *************** Roy knew Johnny was badly hurt by his announcement. His stomach tightened into a knot at the thought of their partnership of eleven-plus years suddenly severed---and by his own actions. Almost he was tempted to change his mind...again. "Hey, Roy," Captain Stanley called to him as he exited his office. "I hear you're going to take the captain's exam." Roy gave him a grin that was half grimace. "Boy, Cap, good news travels fast." "Yeah," Hank Stanley nodded, placing his hands on his hips as he leaned against the kitchen doorway. "Lots of opportunity right now. Hookrader's retiring from C-Shift, I'm leaving A-Shift, Melton from 99's is moving up to battalion chief. A new station is being opened...that's six new captain's positions that I know of." "Yeah," Roy agreed, "lots of opportunity." "Hey, Roy, maybe you'll replace me; wouldn't that be somethin'?" "I don't really wanna be over these guys, Cap. I've worked with them for too long. You know...familiarity breeds contempt..." "Well, Marco is taking the engineer's exam, and Kelly's gonna give it another shot---Marco's gonna help him study. If they both make it, that'll just leave Mike and John. Everybody else will be new." "Yeah." Roy swallowed. He seemed to be stuck on that word. This was gonna devastate Johnny. The last thing he wanted was to be in charge of Johnny Gage, for his best friend to have to call him 'captain'. "STATION 51...MAN DOWN...1333 WAYCROSS BOULEVARD...1-3-3-3 WAYCROSS...CROSS STREET CORBIN...TIME OUT 11:45" Johnny slid the creeper out from under the squad where, undetected, he'd heard every word of Cap and Roy's conversation. Familiarity breeds contempt! Is that what Roy feels for me? Contempt? Well, it's good to find that out now! If Roy becomes A-Shift's captain, I'll just get my 'contemptuous' self transferred to a brush station. Getting a new partner will be bad enough; working for Roy would be just too much! ...especially now that I know how he really feels. The men ran for the engine and squad, tensions and anxieties forgotten as adrenaline and professionalism took over. *************** "Joanne, you should have seen his face. It was like I'd just told him there's no Santa Claus." Roy rested his chin in his cupped hands and stared at his wife across the breakfast table, certain now that Station 51 would be very a very uncomfortable place for the next few weeks. "I feel sorry for him," the petite auburn-haired woman replied. "And I'm glad I'm not the one that had to tell him. But Roy, there's too much at stake here. The numbers don't lie, and they say without this promotion, one or both of our children won't go to college." She reached across the table and gently squeezed her husband's arm in a gesture that was as much affection as commiseration. "Johnny Gage is resilient; he'll bounce back...he always does." With lowered eyes, Joanne took a sip of her coffee. At least I hope he will. I hate to be the one to put the hurt in those puppy dog eyes. "Not this time, Jo. This is different. He didn't speak to anybody more than absolutely necessary the rest of the shift. He just moped around the station all day and avoided the rest of us like the plague." "Honey, we can't let our lives be ruled by Johnny's feelings. He wouldn't want that." Joanne stood and started clearing the dishes, in need of some sort of activity. She was very much afraid that, while Johnny would be dismayed at the idea of the kids not being able to go to college, subconsciously he still wanted Roy to stay a paramedic forever with him, regardless of the consequences. "That man has saved my life more times than I can count. He'd willingly do it again---and I'd do the same for him. Heck, he'd do anything for us. We're all the family he has, Jo. We can't just turn our backs on him after eleven years. Do you know, he offered to give us all the money he has in savings just to help with the kids' college education?" "There's nothing to keep Johnny from trying for promotion too, is there?" Jo was losing ground, and she knew it. Roy sighed. "Well, besides the fact that he probably wouldn't make it, he likes what he's doing now. Can you imagine Johnny Gage as a captain? He wouldn't be able to command the respect necessary for the job, and I'm pretty sure he knows it. He's just the playboy, the clown, everybody's little brother, the schemer, the dreamer...but not the captain." Roy shook his head sadly, sure his partner would fall to pieces over this and unable to see any way out for him. "Roy, Johnny is a bachelor. He has only himself to think of..." "And yet he thinks of us all the time. He helps work on this house, ferries our kids around and plays surrogate uncle whenever we need him. He's never too busy to do us a favor; he'd give us the shirt off his back. Joanne, he's like a brother...more than a brother. How can I do this to him?" Roy stood up abruptly, his chair crashing backward to the floor, and strode through the living room to the back deck, the deck Johnny helped him build, he recalled, and began to pace. It didn't help that 'Johnny's chair', the straight-backed kitchen chair his friend preferred over the webbed lawn furniture, sat in silent disapproval at its usual place against the house. On a normal morning after shift, Johnny would be sitting in that chair, balanced on the back two legs, with a can of cold soda in his hand, leaning back against the siding. He would be ranting non-stop about something that happened on shift, making predictions on the next Dodgers game, laughing and joking with Chris and Jennifer, or thanking Joanne again for breakfast. Roy wished to heaven it was a normal morning. Joanne picked up the fallen chair and followed her husband to the deck. She knew Roy was beginning to cave, and with that capitulation, would come the end of their dreams. Jo felt a little like the wicked witch as she made a final gambit. "Is that what you want? Is that what you think he would want? Sweetheart, we're talking about our children's futures...about Christopher and Jennifer's chances of getting the education we've always planned for them. Johnny's your partner, but they're your children, Roy DeSoto, and I'm your wife. Don't we count as much?" She hated to play the 'guilt for your family' card...heaven knew he was feeling bad enough already...but Roy was on the verge of changing his mind. I always told him if he made the living, he could make the decisions about his job...but I never gave up the right to voice my opinion on the subject. Defeated, Roy sat down in 'his' chair, a lawn chair with brightly colored webbing, and sipped at the now cold coffee. With a grimace of distaste, he set the cup aside and picked up the morning paper, making a useless effort to end the thousand accusations playing havoc with his peace of mind. Returning to the kitchen with Roy's discarded coffee cup, Joanne knew she'd finally won. So why did she feel like they'd all lost? *************** "Ow! Son of a ....!" Johnny dropped the hammer and shook his finger in the air before popping the damaged digit into his mouth. Fixing the loose rails on the corral fence seemed like a good idea when he started out, but unable to keep his mind on the job, he'd done more damage to his left hand than good to the fence. First splinters, then barked knuckles, now this... He examined the finger impatiently. The nail would be black before long and sore for several days. Perfect. A soft tickling on the back of his neck told him that Dancer, the graceful chestnut filly he'd come to love for her speed and sense of mischief, was investigating his injury as well. Johnny turned and buried his face in her neck, finding comfort in the warm dusty scent and unquestioning devotion of the animal. Dusty, the buckskin colt that occupied the stall next to Dancer's, would be over soon as well, Johnny knew. His natural inquisitiveness wouldn't allow him to be left out for long. "At least I still have you, lady," Johnny whispered, stroking her dark, satiny coat. "You and Dusty won't leave me." Dancer's ears flicked forward at the sound of his voice, then back again as her friend and playmate ambled over for his share of Johnny's attention. *************** "What's with Gage and DeSoto?" Chet Kelly quizzed Mike Stoker as he and Marco Lopez joined the engineer at 'The Extinguisher', their favorite watering hole. As usual, Mike Stoker gave slow and careful thought to the question before answering. "DeSoto is going to take the captain's test." "So?" Is Kelly really that dense about Johnny? Mike wondered in amazement. "Gage isn't." "So?" Chet was still puzzled. "Look, amigo, Cap is leaving, Roy is probably leaving, we might be leaving. We're all the family Johnny has. It's gonna be just him and Stoker left at 51's. Remember what Johnny was like when he first came to the Station?" "Marco, we were all new to each other; 51 was a brand new station." Chet was beginning to see, but not ready to concede the point. Lopez shook his head in frustration. "Chet, Johnny a had tough time making friends with all of us. He hid behind smart alec remarks and a cocky attitude, but he was lonely and insecure. Now that we've been like a family for eleven years, he's about to lose us and have to start all over again with a whole new crew." "Come on, Marco, he's a grown man, for crying out loud. He's not the same kid he was then. He'll be fine. Think about me...I'll have to find a whole new pigeon. I'll never find anyone as gullible as Gage." "You mean as tolerant," Marco corrected him. At Chet's questioning glance, Marco said, "Anybody else would have let you have it a long time ago, pal." "Gage won't stay," Mike said quietly. "He'll leave, maybe not the Department, but he won't stay at Station 51, and he most likely won't stay in the paramedics." Mike's statement startled both of the men. "That's crazy! Why would he leave? Why would he quit the paramedic program? He loves this job." Chet thought Mike was way off base. "No, Chet, Mike's right. Johnny won't be able to stand working at 51's without Roy. He'll leave. I just hope he'll be okay." Marco concentrated on his beer and the three fell silent. *************** "STATION 51...VEHICLE ACCIDENT WITH INJURIES...INTERSECTION OF EAST CRENSHAW AND DOUGLAS AVENUE...EAST CRENSHAW AND DOUGLAS...TIME OUT 16:42" Johnny slid to a stop in front of the passenger door of the squad and jumped in, reaching for his helmet as Roy took the call slip from Captain Stanley. "Crenshaw is a one-way, right?" Roy waited for a reply as he headed for Douglas Avenue. "Johnny? Crenshaw? Isn't it one-way?" "Huh?" Johnny jumped slightly then quickly flipped through the map book. "Uh, yeah. We have to go down Grayland to Crenshaw and backtrack to Douglas." He realized he was giving less than full attention to the job and straightened in his seat, determined to focus on the business at hand. Roy gave Johnny a worried glance. It wasn't normal for his partner to be so distracted when they left on a call. "You okay, Johnny?" Roy has a right to be concerned, Johnny realized, I can't afford to let my mind wander during a run. "Yeah, I'm fine. Wait...wait...there it is." Johnny pointed to the flashing light of a police car parked at the curb. Roy pulled up behind the police car, with Big Red close behind the squad. A cargo van lay on its side across two lanes of traffic, the side caved in from the impact of a garbage truck. The garbage truck was parked on the side of the road, the driver seated on the running board, his shaking hands covering his face. "I'll take the van," Roy said, leaving Johnny to tend to the driver of the garbage truck. He doesn't trust me with the tough stuff, Johnny thought. After all these years, I'm slightly off for a couple seconds and immediately he doesn't trust me. Maybe he really does feel contempt. Has he always felt like that? or just now that he's decided to go for captain? Doesn't he think I can handle it without him? Johnny shook his head to still the accusing voices and attended to business. As he suspected, the driver of the garbage truck wasn't seriously injured. There was a small cut on his forehead from impact with the side window and ribs tender where the steering wheel hit him. He would probably need to be x-rayed to make sure his ribs weren't broken or cracked, but otherwise the guy would most likely be okay. "Hey, Marco," Johnny called, "ask Roy what he's got, would you? This guy isn't hurt too bad." Marco Lopez waved and trotted over to the van where Chet and Stoker were busily removing the roof with the K-12. Johnny quickly checked his patient's pulse, respiration and pupillary response. "I'm gonna to talk to the hospital over the radio and I'll be right back, okay? It's just a precaution. You're gonna be all right." The man nodded, grimacing as he held his sore ribs. Marco met Johnny halfway. "Roy has one Code F and a multiple fractures with a ruptured femoral artery. Cap's on the biophone with Rampart." "Okay, I just need to get the BP cuff and a couple things from the trauma box, and my guy will be all set. I'll be back to help Roy in a couple minutes." Marco nodded and ran back to the van, pausing to pull the backboard from the squad. Johnny bandaged the man's forehead and wrote down his vital signs, expecting there would be no need for further treatment here. "You just sit tight; the ambulance will be here in a few seconds. I'll be back to check on you in a little bit, but you'll be all right." Johnny noticed a police officer waiting to talk to the truck driver. "Hey, he'll probably be fine; if you have any problems, I'll be just over there, okay?" Johnny pointed toward the van and the police officer nodded acknowledgement. As he approached the van, Johnny could see that Kelly and Stoker nearly had the roof off and shortly they would be able to extricate the victim. The twisted metal and the shifted cargo made it impossible to bring him out through the passenger's door, and the driver's door lay beneath the man. Roy crawled in through the front window, which now lay in pieces on the pavement. Captain Stanley hunkered down just outside with the biophone. Johnny bent down to make his way in beside Roy. "How's it goin', Roy?" "Compound fractures both legs, right arm broken, right shoulder dislocated, ruptured femoral artery, possible internal injuries, possible spinal injury. You wanna put pressure on this artery while I get an IV started?" Nodding, Johnny applied direct pressure to the leg, trying not to wonder why Roy hadn't asked him to start the IV. It was just the luck of the draw, he thought. One of us would have the easy patient either way. I'm making way too much of this. "Johnny!" Roy called sharply, breaking through his preoccupation. At Gage's startled look, Roy repeated his question, "What's his pulse and respiration?" Johnny quickly checked the requested vitals, keeping pressure on the artery with one hand. He flushed guiltily; he hadn't had to be reminded like that since becoming Roy's partner. He was acting like a rookie. Maybe Roy's right to worry. Roy was indeed worried, but he pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind, saving them for after the rescue when he could devote the necessary time and gray matter. Right now, this patient needed the full attention of both paramedics. "Good job, Roy," Dr. Brackett told him thirty or so minutes later. "Thanks to you, that guy's going to keep his leg. He's lucky." "That's good to know. Hey, Doc, do you have a minute?" "Sure, Roy, what's on your mind?" Roy shifted nervously from foot to foot, glancing at the base station where his partner leaned against the desk, apparently in earnest conversation with Dixie McCall. "Let's go to the lounge for a cup of coffee." With a slight nod, the senior paramedic accompanied the doctor down the hall. From where he stood at the base station, Johnny saw Roy and Kel Brackett head for the doctors' lounge. He was pretty sure he knew the topic of conversation. Gage has lost his edge; he can't concentrate on work anymore. With a sigh, Johnny fiddled with the strap of the Handy Talkie, wondering what he was going to do. "Hey, Good-Lookin'," Dixie tapped Gage on the shoulder. "Something wrong?" It must be something serious, Dixie thought, a whole class of new nursing school graduates just walked past on a tour of the hospital and Johnny didn't even look up. Johnny just shook his head and clasped his hands, resting them on the desk. He didn't really want to talk to Dixie; maybe he should just wait in the squad. "Need supplies?" Dixie had a pretty good idea what was bothering the younger half of her favorite paramedic team. She'd heard via the grapevine that he might soon be losing his partner. "Huh? Uh, yeah," he replied, digging in his shirt pocket for the notebook where he'd jotted down the list of supplies that needed replenished. He tore off the sheet and handed it to Dixie without looking up. As she gathered the items on the list, mechanically placing them in the box kept on hand for that purpose, Dixie watched John Gage out of the corner of her eye. Johnny, she knew, could fall in and out of depression with the same amazing swiftness that he fell in and out of love. He was just plain wallowing in it now---depression that is, not love. Should she get involved? Why change now? "I hear we have some paramedics who might be leaving the program to become station captains." Might as well cut to the chase, Dixie thought. "I guess so," Johnny muttered, refusing to take the bait. "It's not going to be the same around here without Roy." She waited for a reaction. "I guess not." Johnny sounded almost apathetic. Boy, he's got it bad! "Why aren't you taking the test?" Nothing like the direct approach. That got a reaction. "Me?!!" Johnny looked at her in open-mouthed astonishment. "I'd never make it in a thousand years!" The head nurse shrugged. "There's a lot of fellas that couldn't pass the paramedic course, Johnny. You could almost be an instructor. You've taken the recertification exam twice now and passed with flying colors. What makes you think you couldn't pass the captain's test?" His face a study in confusion, Johnny sought words to explain why there was such a vast difference in the two. He failed, lamely answering, "It's just not the same, Dix." "I know. There are captains out there that could never cut it as a paramedic. But as far as I know, every paramedic that's tried for captain has made it. Remember Stony? You did better on your exams than he did, and he's been a captain now what, five years?" "Eight. Huh, you're right," he admitted. "But Dix, who'd want me for a captain?" Johnny recalled all the silly schemes he'd gotten involved in and the way Chet seemed to always nail him. He'd been laughed at more than most guys in the Department between getting dumped and falling for nearly every gag and prank they threw at him. "Who would want you for a captain? Anyone who's ever watched you work in a tense situation when lives are on the line. I've been there, Johnny. When it comes down to it, you're professional, dedicated and competent. You come up with some pretty ingenious solutions to difficult rescues. There are no cut and dried answers in your job; flexibility and inventiveness are real assets." "You tryin' to get rid of me, Dix?" Johnny still couldn't accept what she said, but she did know how to boost his ego. "You know better than that, Johnny Gage," Dixie admonished. "If I had my way you'd all get a big promotion and be able to remain paramedics." She motioned down the hall where Roy and Dr. Brackett were approaching side by side. "Here comes your partner." "Yeah." She watched his mood slide from being almost normal right back down to the basement. Now what? Is something going on between Johnny and Roy? Johnny just turned without greeting his partner and walked toward the exit. At Dixie's raised eyebrows, Roy shrugged and followed, a discouraged look on his face. "What was that all about?" she asked Kel Brackett when the paramedic team was out of earshot. "DeSoto's worried that Johnny will fall apart when he gets left behind after Roy makes captain. He might just be right. Roy said Johnny has been really depressed since he found out, and today he spaced out twice on a run. Added to that, two of the other guys are trying for engineer and Captain Stanley will be leaving to take up a chief's position. That will leave Johnny pretty much the only one still at 51's of the crew that's been together for eleven years." "What I don't understand is why Johnny doesn't just take the captain's exam too." "I asked Roy the same question. He looked at me like I was nuts. You know what, Dix? I think everyone at that station has been underestimating John Gage for a long time...especially John Gage. He's competent and dedicated, and more intelligent than he lets on." "That's pretty much what I told him, Kel, but I could tell he didn't believe me." Dixie shook her head sadly. "It's just too bad, too. I don't think he believes he can do the job without Roy, or at least he's pretty sure nobody else believes he can. When I asked him about becoming a captain, he just asked me 'Who'd want me as their captain?' I'm worried about him, Kel, he doesn't deserve this." "If it came in a bottle and could be administered with a syringe, I'd definitely prescribe John Gage a dose of self-confidence," Kelly Bracket said with a shake of his head as he pocketed his pen and left to make his rounds. "And I'd know just where to administer the shot," Dixie muttered, picking up a patient chart to slip it back into the rack. *************** The great room in John Gage's ranch house seemed to echo each tick of the Regulator clock on the wall as Johnny stood disconsolately on the brightly colored rug in the center of the room. The arrow-shaped designs on the rug were like spokes of a wheel, pointing to all directions of the compass. It reminded him of his own inability to pick a new direction for his life. Words and ideas played a crazy confused medly in his brain while pieces of advice crowded thick and fast, one upon the other. Roy's announcement, Mike's additional news, Dixie's questions. Idly he traced one of the points on the rug with a bare toe and then turned in a slow circle before stopping to stare at the fieldstone hearth before him. The accumulation of thirty-five years of living filled the great room of his home. On the fireplace mantle sat all he had left to remind him of his family and life before L.A. At sixteen his world was ripped apart by the automobile crash that took the lives of his parents. He managed to salvage a few pictures and letters before well-meaning aunts and uncles held an auction to dispose of the contents of their farm. At least he chose to believe they were well-meaning, whatever the truth might be. The pictures on the mantle, faded smiling captured moments with his mom and dad, seemed to have been taken a lifetime ago. He'd so often described the events shown to Jennifer and Chris DeSoto that they'd become part of some story, and not his own real past. A small silver sculpture of a horse with Native American rider beside the framed photos appeared to nearly come to life as it reflected the movement of the ceiling fan above his head. The statue was a fifteenth birthday present from his cousin Trina, her talent apparent even back then. Now her name and signature mark, a long feather, guarantee the artwork to be expensive. This piece, one of her first, is probably worth a small fortune, he mused. But it means more than money to me. Trina, Claire, Johnny and Billy, four cousins, remained close, at least for a while. One of the pictures showed them all clowning around at some family do. Their teenage faces reflected the family resemblance; Trina even sported the lopsided grin, and Billy's narrow hawkish nose, broken in a football game, pointed in the opposite direction from Johnny's. Claire called them the bookends. Trina was the artist, Billy the adventurer, Johnny the rebel and Claire...well, Claire was just silly but loveable. They were the Four Musketeers and inseparable until Johnny left for a new life in California. Two years later Claire got married and moved to Washington state. Last he heard she had four kids ages ranging from sixteen to the surprise baby born two years ago. Billy died of leukemia fifteen years ago now, Johnny remembered. The last time I saw him, he didn't even have it. Claire's letter about his death was sure a shock, but in a way I'm glad it didn't come until after the funeral. I'm not sure I would have gone and I'm glad I didn't have to decide one way or the other. Maybe I'll visit Trina or Claire this Christmas, they both ask me every year, and every year I put it off again. I didn't want to miss seeing Chris and Jen on Christmas morning. This year that may not be an issue. Roy DeSoto and his family... Somehow it always comes down to my partner. Up to now he'd avoided looking at the pine bookshelf built into the corner of the room like a large shadow box. It was a display of all the things that came to mean so much to him over the last eleven years. The top shelf held framed pictures from Station 51 and the DeSoto's house. One eight-by-ten photo of all six guys in front of Big Red, taken with Johnny's camera set on a timer, was used by a trade magazine for an article about LACoFD. Each of them had a copy of the photograph. Next to that was a picture of him and Roy leaning against the squad. There were also snapshots of the two of them at the conference in San Francisco and with the paramedics in Seattle. Twin frames above the top shelf contained Chris and Jennifer's school pictures. Twelve small openings in a circle around a central frame displayed the kids' progression. Jennifer was up to 10th grade and Chris' 12th-grade picture was added just a week ago. The center spot was reserved for graduation, a picture in cap and gown. Johnny wondered if he would complete the set now. Would the DeSotos drift away from him as Roy's life took a different path? With a sigh he walked into the kitchen to grab a beer from the refrigerator. Beneath several magnets shaped like helmets and hydrants a collection of homemade cards from Roy's kids swung drunkenly as he jerked open the refrigerator door. His whole house was a painful reminder of all he would soon be losing. Back in the great room he stared once more at the corner book case and took a swig of amber liquid from the brown glass bottle, then wiped his lips with the back of his hand. Black onyx bookends shaped like horses' heads held upright a mixture of volumes on the second shelf. His paramedic manuals were there and his high school yearbook. He pulled it down and went to the page that had his picture looking up from behind a typewriter, an eraser pencil pushed behind one ear. The picture was captioned 'Editor John Gage hard at work on the school paper'. Was he ever that young? There were pictures from the track meets, one good action shot of him crossing the finish line in the 440, and the team picture. His date for the senior prom was Margie. She looked pretty good once she got rid of the braces. Wonder where she is these days? He closed the volume and put it back on the shelf between the paramedic study guides and a few novels, mostly gifts from people who didn't know him well. He smirked, except one. Seven years ago he'd gotten a three-volume collection of Maxwell Hart stories from Dixie McCall. One of these days he would get around to reading them. A fourth volume, written and published after the author's attempted suicide and subsequent stay at Rampart, nestled against the other three like a postscript. That one Johnny bought and read himself. A sharp rat-a-tat on the screen door startled the paramedic from his depressed musings. He was surprised to see Hank Stanley standing on his front porch peering in through the screen. "Cap?! Come in. What brings you all the way out here?" To say the visit from his captain was a surprise would be putting it mildly. "Hey, John, I wanted to talk to you." Hank opened the screen and shuffled uncomfortably into Johnny's living room, unsure if his mission would be accepted in the kindly spirit of its intent. Johnny could be pretty touchy at times. Captain Stanley halted just inside the door, one hand shoved deep in his pocket while the other cradled a stack of books. "I know the changes coming to the station have been getting you down, pal. Don't bother to deny it," Captain Stanley said, raising one hand to halt the protest Gage seemed about to make. "You and Roy have been working together for a lot of years and it will be tough getting used to a new partner." Gage's eyes shifted to the floor and his shoulders hunched defensively as his captain continued. "I kind of thought maybe if you... that is you might want to consider..." At Johnny's uneasy look he thrust the books into the other man's hands. "Aw, heck, study and take the darn captain's test!" The volumes seemed to stare up at Gage as he stared down at them open-mouthed. Without apparent comprehension, Johnny focused mutely on an embarrassed Hank Stanley. This was the second person to encourage him to try for promotion, that seemed to think he would have a chance. "Me?" he squeaked when he finally recovered his voice. "Why not? Look, John, you're a helluva paramedic and that says a lot; I couldn't do that job day in day out. You've got the necessary experience as a firefighter---you know both jobs and do them well. If you really think this test will be a big challenge for you, I'll help you study." Johnny gulped. A lump the size of Montana just filled his throat. "I don't know, Cap. I just never figured I would ever be...that anybody would... Cap, who'd pay any attention to me? I mean, heck, I'm just a goofy guy half the time..." "John, there isn't one of the guys you work with that wouldn't trust you with his life, including me. Around the station you're a twit sometimes...okay more than sometimes, but when the tones go off, it's a different story." "Cap, I don't know what to say. I...thanks. If you really mean you would help me study this stuff," he looked at the intimidating stack of books still in his hands, "then I'll give it a shot. I guess it can't hurt to try." Johnny shook his head doubtfully, not completely convinced his captain wasn't loco. *************** The men of A-Shift jostled each other in the crowded locker room as they dressed and readied themselves to begin the day. Johnny placed his gym bag on the bench in front of his locker and knelt to dig out his work shoes from the bottom bin, nearly crawling inside as his quarry proved elusive. Hoping to make a quick trip to the latrine before roll call, Chet Kelly barreled into the locker room, heedless of the crowd. He tossed his own gym bag onto the bench in passing, knocking Gage's to the floor, where it hit with a resounding THUMP. There was a near repeat of the sound when Johnny's head impacted with the top of the bin in startled reaction. "Ow!" Johnny crawled backwards, shoes in one hand, using his other to rub the back of his head. "What was that?" "I think it was your head hitting the bottom of your locker," Roy informed him dryly, reaching down to rerieve the fallen gym bag and return it to the bench. His eyes widened in surprise at the unusual weight. "What have you got in this thing, rocks?" Roy hefted the bag by one handle and teasingly held it out of the reach of his partner, who was still on his knees. "Give me that!" Johnny said testily, his teeth clenched in frustration as he made a futile grab for the bag. Rising partway to his feet, he managed to catch the remaining handle and tugged on his property to pull it from Roy's grasp just as his partner tightened his grip. The bag fell open over Johnny's head, its contents scattering at his feet. Eyes averted, face aflame, Gage frantically gathered books and papers as well as his clean underwear and socks, and stuffed the whole as far back into his locker as possible. Tossing his gym bag on top of the pile, he pulled out a fresh uniform and quickly changed before slamming the door shut. Still without meeting Roy's eyes, he pushed his way out of the locker room and into the apparatus bay. Marco Lopez and Mike Stoker stared in wordless fascination at Johnny's locker door, wondering what that had been about. His partner declined to enlighten the two men. Having looked at them for several weeks now, Roy DeSoto easily recognized the study materials for the captain's test. *************** It amused Hank Stanley to be the constant focus of Gage's attention. The man never watched him much before, but now he could feel Johnny's eyes following his every move, listening to each command, analyzing them all. The end of every response found the junior paramedic in his captain's office asking questions, reviewing procedures, analyzing the call and committing the conversations to memory. Some of Johnny's probing questions were especially on-target, Stanley realized in surprise. The younger man's analysis of each fire showed insight and indicated an intelligence not normally displayed by Johnny Gage. How well, he wondered, do we really know this man? *************** Johnny laid back on his bunk and pinched the bridge of his nose. His head ached from continued concentration on the study manuals and mental review of each fire. Cap Stanley kept his promise to help and Johnny was beginning to feel hopeful of actually passing the exam. He was about two weeks behind Roy, he knew, as far as preparation went, but Roy had family obligations and other distractions to hinder his progress. Johnny could and did dedicate his off-duty time to learning all he could about the position he now felt an intense desire for. If I don't make it, he determined, it won't be for lack of trying. This was Johnny's chance to prove he wasn't the goofy mental lightweight everybody took him for. He smiled, his crooked grin appearing for a brief moment. Maybe it was just a little bit of his natural perversity, he admitted, letting everybody believe what they wanted about him. The grin faded. He'd done that before. Nearly my whole family thought I was a rebel and a punk. They couldn't wait to ship me out here to Los Angeles after Mom and Dad died---anything to get rid of the 'bad boy'. The tones went off, bringing Johnny out of his mental wanderings as habit and training kicked in. Dropping the study manual onto his bunk, the junior paramedic ran for the squad. As Johnny ran out of the dormitory, Chet peeked around the opposite door. The tones had been for the Squad only and the situation worked out perfectly for The Phantom. Gage had become much too serious of late, spending time in Cap's office after each run and returning to his bunk in between calls to study. He avoided the dayroom and the rest of his shift mates like the plague. This has got to stop! Chet knew what was up; they all did. He was also sure that life around 51's would be unbearable once Gage failed to make captain. And he would fail, Chet was sure, no matter what Stoker thought. Somehow John has to be persuaded not to take the test...for his own good. Marco and Mike wouldn't agree, but what they don't know won't hurt them. Those two bozos actually believe Gage might make it. Talk about your fantasies! "Gage doesn't stand a chance," Chet had opined to Mike Stoker and Marco Lopez as they met for lunch at 'The Extinguisher' yesterday. "Why doesn't he realize that?" "What makes you so sure," Mike asked him, tracing a trail of water across the tabletop. He watched in dismay as it began running off the edge into his lap. "Oh come on, Stoker, bandaging cut fingers and splinting broken bones is one thing, but being a captain requires a lot of knowledge and the ability to be organized...to keep on top of things. Gage can't even find his shoes half the time, for crying out loud." Chet shook his head; Gage was gonna be living in depression city for weeks after he got the news. "You're not being fair, Chet," Marco said indignantly. "Being a paramedic is a lot more than taking care of minor injuries---Johnny saves lives every day, and sometimes risks his own doing it." "The paramedic test is tougher than the one for engineers," Mike Stoker observed, "and Johnny's passed that one three times now." Chet gulped, fully aware that the possibility of his own failure to score high on the upcoming engineer's exam wasn't all that slim. It would be intolerable if he was way down the list again and Gage somehow made captain. Still fighting to make a point, Chet tried another tack. "But Gage is such a goof-off. Who would want him as their captain?" "I would," Marco said quietly, "that is if it has to be somebody besides Cap." "You gotta be kiddin' me!" Chet exploded. "You'd be willing to work for Gage? the Loser? the Pigeon?" "Johnny's good at his job, Chet. When he needs help with a victim, I do what he says; so does Cap. Roy usually takes charge and Johnny lets him, but Johnny's just as good as Roy when it comes to being a paramedic." Shaking his head at the memory of Marco's words, Chet Kelly glared at the book laying on the junior paramedic's bunk as if it were to blame for his friend's misguided attitude. Disaster, Chet was sure, loomed in Gage's future. If he failed to recognize the futility of wasting all this time only to be disappointed, the Phantom would have to help him out. Making sure none of the other guys were in sight, Chet went to the desk and picked up the phone. *************** "I don't see it...no wait, wait...pull over!" Roy pulled the squad over to the curb. His partner sprang from the passenger side and threw open the side compartment doors. Drug box, biophone, oxygen, Johnny thought to himself, pulling the pieces of equipment from their places on the shelves. It was as natural as breathing after eleven years and he knew without thought that Roy would bring the bulky IV box. Their work habits usually meshed in perfect sync, like two halves of some whole, their confidence in each other's ability creating a synergy---normally. Today Johnny seemed out of rhythm, stopping to think before doing what he normally did as a matter of course. Roy gave him a couple of worried looks, but Johnny stayed focused, not absent-minded like last shift. It was like working with a stranger. Uneasily Roy climbed into the ambulance with the victim. He'd received good and proper care, but not the usual calming words from Roy, or Johnny's reassuring grin, an integral part of their routine. Roy's guilt and Johnny's resentment held the two men in icy silence. Roy's watching me again, thought Johnny, like he expects me to start making mistakes because he won't be here to keep an eye on me. Has he always done that? Did I just not notice? The younger man barely kept himself from throwing the equipment into the squad. Maybe this break-up isn't such a bad thing. He probably feels sorry for 'Junior' the kid who can't think for himself. Well, big news, 'Pally', Junior is thirty-five, not twenty-four, and he's ready to stop playing second fiddle. Heck, Roy's probably convinced he's doing me a favor by leaving so I can finally be the senior paramedic and drive the squad...while he takes charge at a fire. Geez, he's gonna still be givin' me orders if we work the same response. And what if they make him Cap's replacement? No thank you! Johnny glared at the back of the departing ambulance. "Well, Johnny, how's the studying going?" Dixie looked up from her place at the base station as Johnny approached. Her smile faded when she took in the grim line of his mouth and the angry set to his shoulders. Uh oh, things are deteriorating. Johnny fished in his shirt pocket for the list of supplies they would need without returning Dixie's greeting or answering her question. His eyes narrowed as he stared at the closed door of treatment room four where his partner was helping with the victim. The sooner this shift ended, the better. He wordlessly handed a list to the head nurse and waited while she gathered the requested items. "Ummph!" Startled from his dark thoughts, Johnny gasped as a box of supplies was thrust ungently into his midsection. "Have a nice day, Fireman Gage," Dixie said tersely before stalking off down the hall in the direction of the doctors' lounge. Johnny immediately regretted his behavior. He hadn't been on Dixie's bad side for years, and it was not something he was looking forward to now. He sighed. Just one more thing... "You ready?" Roy DeSoto walked up to the base station where his partner stood staring off into space. In response, Johnny pulled the squad keys from his pocket and slapped them on the counter, then took off toward the exit without a backward glance. Morosely Roy retrieved the keys and followed his silent partner to the squad. Something would have to give soon. *************** "Good morning, DeSoto," Craig Brice greeted Roy from the kitchen as the senior paramedic entered in search of some coffee. At Roy's questioning glance, Brice informed him, "I'll be your partner this shift. Gage took some vacation time. He will probably be studying, I imagine, since the exam is in two weeks...for all the good it will do." Roy stiffened, "What do you mean by that?" "No need to take umbrage, DeSoto, it's common knowledge that Gage is trying for captain. I understand some stations are wagering on the outcome. I don't agree with gambling, but if I were to hazard an opinion, it would be that he will fail. Gage just doesn't have the organizational skills or the necessary discipline to be a good station captain. All in all, it will be better for the department if he doesn't pass. While he is an adequate paramedic, he would be a very inadequate captain." As Brice voiced his opinion, sure as usual that he was right, Roy felt his hands begin to form fists. It was one thing for his station mates to doubt Johnny's ability to pass the test; theirs were feelings and expressions of concern. But for this...this self-righteous prig to spout his opinion of Johnny's short-comings was way out of bounds. "Brice, let's get one thing straight." Roy stood toe to toe with the other paramedic. "Whether John Gage does well or badly on the captain's test is none of your business and not a topic of conversation while you are working here at 51's, got that?" The shorter man gulped and nodded, making his exit from the kitchen as rapid as possible while still maintaining a semblance of dignity. Roy went in search of Hank Stanley. "Cap, have you got a minute?" Hank was just leaving his office, a stack of memos in hand to post on the bulletin board. "Sure, Roy, can you talk while I do this, or do you want to wait until I'm done and we can talk in my office?" Glancing around to make sure they were alone, Roy assured him, "Here is fine. Cap, did you know that some stations are making bets on whether Johnny is going to pass the exam? I just found out from Brice, of all people. By the way, Johnny's okay, isn't he? I mean he is just taking vacation, right?" Frozen in place by the revelation of his senior paramedic, Hank was at first dumbfounded, and then livid at the news. "They're what?!! Which stations?" "I was so mad, I didn't think to ask," Roy admitted. "Well you'd better believe I'm gonna get to the bottom of this! Nobody's gonna do that to one of my men." Cap exited the dayroom and nearly ran into Chet Kelly. Sidestepping rapidly, he entered his office, slamming the door behind him with a force that echoed throughout the station. Kneeling beside the squad, Brice swallowed nervously and continued rearranging the drug box. It could be that he'd made a miscalculation in telling DeSoto about the wager. Chet Kelly stroked his mustache and smirked knowingly. This was going to be good...if Cap didn't find out where the bets started. He could hear Hank's raised voice through the closed office door ..."unprofessional" ..."intolerable"..."insulting". The Cap was most likely talking to Chief McConikee. Moments later Hank sat back in his chair, relaxed. Not much got by the Chief, he admitted. McConikee was already in the process of nipping the tasteless wager in it's unprofessional bud. I'm almost sorry I had to do that, Stanley thought. If I weren't in this position, I might have called and wagered in Johnny's favor...I could have been a rich man. The odds against him are so high, a lot of people would have been much poorer. If John does as well on the exam as he did when I quizzed him at his house last night, there's going to be a lot of very surprised people in this department when the list comes out. *************** The ringing of the telephone cut into Johnny's concentration and he put down his book without any real reluctance. He was beginning to feel eyestrain anyway. Groaning he unfolded his long limbs and headed for the kitchen phone. Five hours in a cross-legged position on his sofa had stiffened his knee joints, reminding him that he was no longer a twenty-year-old probie. "Gage home, John speaking." As usual, his mother's instruction kicked in. "Always tell the caller whose home he has reached, John, and to whom he is speaking." Of course, if he expected it to be one of his relatives, and his parents were out of earshot, he would answer, "It's your nickel...talk!" Funny how little memories popped up like that after all these years. "Hey, Johnny," Charlie Dwyer's voice came over the line. "How goes the studying?" "Fine, Dwyer, what's up?" Johnny knew there was something going on. Dwyer the eternal joker wouldn't call just to check on his progress. Besides not making any sense whatsoever, it was out of character. Johnny could hear the usual station noises in the background as he waited for Dwyer to come to the point. Manley, Dwyer's partner snickered not too subtly nearby. Corning, the engineer told somebody to turn down the television, and Konnitsky, C-Shift's probie, could be heard apologizing to Captain Hookrader about something or other. "I was just checking up on ya, John. Wanted to protect my investment." Dwyer spoke in a confidential undertone. "If you know what I mean." Johnny stared blankly at the receiver, clueless. "No, Dwyer, I don't know what you mean. Why don't you tell me." This was becoming a very strange phone call. "The bet, John Boy! The bet. I want to make sure you're getting plenty of sleep and taking good advantage of your study time. Oh, and don't forget to eat right. Fish, I hear is good for the concentration." "Dwyer, just what the hell are you talking about? What bet?" "THE BET, Johnny! Whether or not you'll pass the captain's exam, the whole department's in on it now. I took a shot on the long odds and bet in your favor. I'm just calling to protect my investment." "WHAT?!! I don't believe this! Geez, Dwyer, I..." Gage gritted his teeth and slammed the receiver down on the cradle hard. Fists clenched, Johnny strode from the house, letting the screen door slam behind him with a resounding SMACK. He stopped in the middle of the yard and yelled in frustration, staring at the sky with both hands extended upward in a 'why me' gesture. "AAAAAAARGH!" It's hopeless. Even if I do pass, nobody thinks I'm gonna be any good. Hell! the entire department's betting against me! I don't believe this. I can't win. Charlie Dwyer pulled the phone away from his ear after the angry click on the other end of the line told him that Gage was no longer there. "Damn! You said he knew! You told me he was in on it. He must think I'm a total jerk." Charlie's partner, Greg Manley looked at him in confusion. "Gage didn't know about it? I thought he started the whole thing. I was under the impression that he made the bet in the first place, saying he would score higher than...oh, man. Charlie, I'm sorry. No way would I have gotten in on this if I thought... Oh, man." "You know Johnny. He's gonna freak out over this. He'll believe everybody wants him to fail. Man, what do we do now?" Manley shook his head. "I guess maybe we should tell Roy, huh? He's Johnny's best friend; maybe he can smooth things over." *************** Roy hung up the phone after Dwyer's call and sank into his recliner. He knew exactly how Johnny must have taken the news about the bet, and he wouldn't take it any better that his partner knew about it and opted not to inform him. Cap had been so sure that McConikee would stop the whole thing. Now what? Two hands snaked over Roy's shoulders and lifted his chin from behind. Joanne leaned down for a kiss, but backed up in hurt and confusion when Roy shook off her hands and stood up, his whole body angrily rigid. "I just don't get it, Jo. Who would play such a lowdown dirty trick on Johnny?" "Hmm, lowdown dirty trick on Johnny Gage? That's a hard one. Let me think..." "I'll kill him!" Roy responded, picking up on her line of logic. "If Chet Kelly did this, it's absolutely the last straw. I've stood by for a lot from that jerk, but this is way over the top." "Good for you, honey. What did somebody do to Johnny this time?" Joanne stifled a smile. Somebody, usually Chet, was always pulling something on John Gage. His paranoia usually kicked in too late to warn him not to fall for whatever it was. "Jo, somebody started a bet that Johnny wouldn't pass the captain's exam. It snowballed and lots of guys got in on it. It was supposed to have been stopped, but Dwyer called Johnny to rib him about it. Dwyer was under the impression that the bet started when Johnny boasted that he would score better than me on the exam." "Johnny said that?" That was pretty hard to believe. There were lots of things Johnny bragged about, usually in relationship to his charm, but this was ridiculous. "I doubt it. Things aren't real good between Johnny and me right now, but that's not like him. Besides, Dwyer said Johnny blew up when he heard about it and slammed the phone down." "This really must be hurting him, Joanne. I've got to go talk to him, see if I can fix things. In a way, I'm to blame too. I should have offered to study with him, encouraged him. Instead, I just pretended not to notice how hard he's working to prepare for the test. I guess I didn't believe he would really go through with it. Some partner I am." "Do you think he'll make it?" "Before this? I don't know, maybe. Cap's been working with him, helping him study. Now? I think we'll be lucky if he doesn't leave the fire department altogether. Dwyer told him that the odds were on his failure." "Oh, no. How could they do that to Johnny?" *************** When Roy pulled up in front of Johnny's house, the Rover sat in its usual spot at the side, under a large oak tree that shaded the house and a good portion of the yard. Johnny sat beneath the tree, his back leaning against its broad trunk, knees pulled almost defensively against his chest, his head down. Roy hesitated before he got out of the station wagon. He knew this wouldn't be pleasant. "Hey, Johnny." Despite the fact that Gage didn't react in any way to the greeting, Roy plunged ahead, hoping to break through the anger that radiated from every muscle of Johnny's body. "Dwyer called me after you hung up on him. He's really sorry. He thought you knew about the bet." "Man, what do you want from me?!" Johnny stood and scooped up a small stone, then hurled it with all his might toward the barn, relaxing his shoulders as the missile smacked hard against the frame of the high small window. A couple of swallows exited the loft in haste, indignant at the interruption. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves, changing the patterns of shadows and light that played upon Johnny's face as he stared, eyes narrowed and lips drawn taut, at his best friend. His shaggy hair, lifted by the same puffs of wind, provided the only movement. Statue-like, Johnny just waited. Either Roy would stay or he would go. It just didn't matter anymore. "Johnny, I... I want to say I'm sorry." "And which way did you bet?" The words were softly uttered and full of pain. Roy recoiled as if slapped. Still, he supposed he deserved it. "I wouldn't bet against my best friend." Roy replied. "I did something far worse." Johnny raised his brown eyes to gaze into Roy's blue ones. Roy would confess whatever sin he had dreamed up to be guilty of, Johnny would forgive him, and he would leave. But it was over. John Gage would find another place, another job. He wouldn't be so trusting, so gullible again. The spark that drove the younger man had gone out with his friend's betrayal. "I don't know how I'll tell Joanne, but I'm not going to take that exam. We'll find some way to put Chris and Jen through school. I guess I just let the whole idea go to my head and it turned me into someone I don't like very much. I didn't realize how far it had gone until that phone call from Dwyer today." The slender man across from him finally moved. Staring down at the ground, he traced figure-eight patterns in the sandy soil beneath the tree with one sneaker-clad foot. "You can't do that," Johnny finally said. "You've made a committment to Joanne, to the kids. They're your first priorities. Besides, the damage is already done. I...I can't work with those guys any more. It's time for me to move on, find something else. Go home, Roy. I'll be all right; I always am." There was a resignation and finality in Johnny's tone that told his partner it would be useless to stay and argue. Defeated, Roy returned to his car, his dragging feet stirring up little plumes of dust on the dry ground. Roy DeSoto watched from behind the steering wheel as his friend returned to the house, his usual good posture absent, his steps slow and aimless. How can this be fixed? I can't let this happen. With renewed purpose, Roy started up the car and headed out to the highway. When he reached the road, he turned in the direction of Hank Stanley's house. *************** "Hurry, hurry, step right up! Place your bets. Final chance to place your bets. Will Johnny Gage save the patient's life or will he fail? No more wagers. He's at the gate. And he's off..." Johnny jumped from the squad, drug box and defibrillator in hand as he ran toward the victim lying in pieces like a broken doll in the green oval of the racetrack. Frantically he gathered scattered limbs and tried to reattach them, stopping to catch a quick glimpse of the timer and the tote board. Even as he watched, the odds against him climbed...5:1...8:1...10:1 He fell behind, stopping to read the instruction manual. He should have studied harder. A little ways away, Roy DeSoto had completed assembly of his victim and the man stood up, raising his hands in victory. Worried, Johnny worked faster, but the arms and legs popped back off his victim as quickly as he could put them on. The tote board now read 50:1 and climbing as the clock ran down. "Come on, Johnny," Hank Stanley called from behind the fence, "I know you can do it." In another corner of the field, Craig Brice finished with his victim, a woman, who stood up and gave him a kiss. Johnny looked in disbelief, as much that a victim would kiss Brice as that he finished before Gage. The counter was racing upwards...100:1...200:1 Johnny panicked, tying on the limbs with strips of gauze, mixing arms and legs, left and right. As time ran out, Gage tried to pick his victim up and stand him on his feet. The victim's face morphed into the face of Chet Kelly, laughing hysterically. As time ran out, Johnny could see Hank Stanley and Dixie McCall tearing up their wager tickets. He had failed. Torn tickets rained down on him from the stands as he watched the crowd, all in blue fire department uniform shirts, turn their backs on John Gage, the Loser. Roy DeSoto disappeared into the stands then came back out onto the field, his hands full of banknotes which he proceded to dole out to his children. Jennifer and Chris magically transformed, appearing in caps and gowns, diplomas in hand, as Joanne and Roy looked on proudly. Jennifer and Chris walked toward Johnny, and then past him. Jennifer reached her hand down toward Chet Kelly who pulled himself together and stood up, still grinning. "Here's your engineer's test, Uncle Chet," Chris said. "You passed with flying colors." As the teenagers returned to their parents Johnny reached out toward them. "Sorry, John," Jennifer said reprovingly, "You failed." Without a backward glance, Jen marched off toward college. The track went dark as Johnny sank to his knees, hands covering his face, a failure and alone. Sweating and breathing hard, Gage sat up on the couch where he'd fallen asleep several hours ago. The dream that had seemed so real faded as the familiar objects in his great room came into focus. Groggy, his fuzzy brain registered the ringing of the phone. As he picked up the receiver, his usual response started to kick in, but then he thought, What the hell? "It's your nickel...talk!" *************** "It's your nickel...talk!" "Wha...Gage?" Hank Stanley stumbled in confusion. That wasn't Johnny's usual way to answer the phone. Was he drunk? Given what Roy had told him, the captain wouldn't be surprised. Darn it, things weren't supposed to happen this way. McConikee was so sure he could stop the whole thing before it got too far out of hand. Unfortunately, he was wrong. Twelve stations were involved... that they knew of. When they got to the bottom of this one, somebody's butt would be in a sling. "Cap? Is that you?" "Yeah, pal. Listen, we need to talk." Johnny shook his head, like talkin' is really gonna help. "Cap, I really don't see what good that will do. This is a done deal. The only way everybody loses is if I don't go through with this...unless that was one of the options. 'Will Gage win, lose or crap out?'" Still holding the phone, the paramedic walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out a beer. He hadn't eaten that day, first because of his concentration on studying, and then because he'd lost his appetite. Now just numbing the pain seemed like the best course of action. "Johnny, there's gonna be an investigation into this whole mess. Whoever started this will be formally reprimanded, and maybe some discipline doled out to everyone who placed a wager." Gage choked and spewed beer on the kitchen floor. "Hell, Cap, I don't want that! What will that accomplish? The object was to let me know I was a stupid fool for thinking I could do this. Well it worked...magnificently. I don't even care who started it. Just let it drop. Please!" "I can't do that, John. Gambling within the department is against the regulations; you know that. It's been winked at up to now as harmless, you know, baby pools, the baseball games at the Picnic, but this time it's gone too far." In a small voice, Johnny asked, "Did anybody on A-Shift bet against me?" He closed his eyes, wanting, yet afraid to know." "I don't know, pal, I sure hope not. I have to admit, though, I was tempted." "Cap!" Unable to associate the statement with his captain, Johnny just went silent. "Relax, John. It's just that the odds were so great I would have cleaned up by betting on you. You know, don't you, that you are a cinch to pass." "Wh--what do you mean?" Johnny sputtered in surprise. "John, if you do as well on the real exam as you did on the sample one I gave you, you won't only pass, you'll rank pretty high. I wish you would re-think this. If you don't take it, you'll only prove the jerk right that did this. Take the exam, John. Win back their respect; I know you can." "Huh! I'll think about it, Cap. I'll think about it." Johnny looked thoughtfully at the pictures on the corner bookshelf in the great room. He'd never been a quitter. "Oh, and John..." "Yeah, Cap?" "Call your partner and put him out of his misery. He's sworn he won't pick up a pencil for that exam unless you're right there beside him taking it too." "Geez! I told him..." John smiled crookedly and shook his head. When had it ever done any good to try and talk Roy out of a guilt trip? "All right, Cap, I'll talk to him." *************** Johnny leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, hat lowered defiantly over his eyes, as he waited for the Chief to finish the boring speech. He was bordering on disrespect, and he knew it. What was more, the Chief knew it... and ignored it. As the new badges of office were handed out, Gage smirked at the irony of it. Some of the men in this room, he knew, had wagered against him. He wondered how crow tasted. Maybe he would ask. Nah. Out of thirteen men promoted this day, Johnny ranked third. He had, in fact, scored higher than both Roy and Craig Brice, but that was better kept to himself. He passed, and that was all Roy needed to know. Roy received his badge, then it was Johnny's turn. "John Gage." Johnny walked up and accepted his badge. "Finally cracked one, eh John?" the Chief asked. "Congratulations." Johnny smiled acknowledgement and nodded. What did he mean by that? wondered Captain John Gage as he gave the gave the Chief an odd look. Oh well, I did it, that's what counts. As he joined Roy outside after the ceremony, it began to sink in exactly what he'd done. He was going to be in charge of a station. As one of the top six promotees, he would be given a station immediately when the projected vacancies were filled. Idly he wondered what station and shift would inherit the Walking Rule Book...and where would Roy go? Hopefully they would at least manage to be on the same shift. *************** "Kelly! Lopez!" Hank Stanley's voice rang out through the apparatus bay. "The lists are in guys." Chet, Marco and Mike tore across bay floor, anxious to hear the news. Chet peeked around the doorframe of the captain's office, hesitant to just barge in. "Good news, guys, you both passed. Marco, you ranked 10th and Kelly, congratulations, pal, you came in at fourteenth this time." Hank was all smiles, happy that two more of his men had advanced. Miller and Carnes, the paramedics that replaced Gage and DeSoto were out on a run and his two former paramedics had just about received their captain's badges by now. It seemed that everything was working out for the best, and he could leave the station next week for his new position with an easy mind. Mike Stoker congratulated his co-workers on their promotion and welcomed them to the rank of engineer, proposing that they celebrate at The Extinguisher after the shift was over tomorrow. He wasn't sure whether to be happy for them or sad for himself, but he knew he was glad for John Gage. Now if the man could just make good. Chet felt a momentary pang of regret about the bet he'd started. He honestly hadn't believed Johnny would pass the exam. Luckily Kelly's friends never told where the original wager came from. Chet shrugged. He'd have to break in a new pigeon wherever he ended up, but Johnny was still in the Department and The Phantom wouldn't let him get lonely. THE END *************** Author's Note:  Thank-you to Min and Icecat62 for helping me through a sticky spot in this story, and to LiveWyr70 who turned out to be right.  And most of all, thanks to Kajakat for sharing my stories on Johnny's Green Pen. ~Nexxie feedback return to main menu