ROUND TWO by Nexxie Part Two "STATION 45...STATION 15...STATION 127...RESPOND WITH BATTALION 14 TO THE BRUSHFIRE IN PALOMA CANYON...REPORT TO THE COMMAND POST AT THE PALOMA VALLEY SCHOOL...APPROACH FROM OWL CREEK ROAD...TIME OUT 19:38." Captain Vaughn acknowledged the call and hurried to the Engine 127. This time the whole station responded, including the snorkel truck and deluge. The extra manpower would be needed if the equipment was not. J.R. hurried to the engine, the adrenaline kicking in to temporarily counteract his overall exhaustion. It wasn't his first brush fire, but it definitely sounded like the biggest he'd seen yet. Reynolds and Larkin, faces set, pulled on their gloves and tightened the chin straps on their helmets. It promised to be a night filled with hard work, sore muscles, and little sleep. The Phantom and his relentless attacks on J.R. Gage were shoved to the backs of everybody's consciousness as the men and vehicles of Station 127 raced to join their brothers. Engine and Truck 127 were sent to protect a small cluster of homes about a mile from the fire line. Frightened people huddled awaiting evacuation, clutching what possessions they could carry. The fire quickly advanced as the wind picked up, jumping firebreak after firebreak. Captain Vaughn trotted over to Jeff Brady, the incident commander for this group. 51's responded in the first alarm, along with 99's. "Where do you need us, Jeff?" Terry Vaughn shouted. The buzz of chain saws and noise from the various engines made yelling a necessity. "Use the snorkel to hose down the rooftops of those houses on the end. Put a couple of inch-and-a-halfs on the single-story over there, and I guess the rest of your guys need to work with 99's on the firebreaks. We have no dozers here, they are over working on the fire line on the western slope. So we're having to use hand tools. We need to get a head start on this, it's a bad one. This is the first group of homes in the path of the fire, I don't want to lose it. We already lost one isolated structure, a small ranch house. This thing isn't gonna get past us again." Vaughn nodded and ran to place his crew. The steel in Brady's voice matched his own determination. The glow from the fire on top of the opposite ridge already lit up the sky and the heat flowed toward them in waves. They didn't have much time. "Kelly, supply water to the snorkel. Larken and Reynolds, take two inch-and-a-halfs over to that single story and soak it. Gage, I'm sending you to help 99's and 45's on the fire break." Vaughn pointed toward the group of men busy with chain saws, axes and shovels just north of the houses. J.R. nodded and hustled in the direction of the firebreak. He spotted Batsios wielding a chain saw as he approached and gave the man a friendly wave. Batsios paused to wipe away the sweat trickling down his face. Gage couldn't hear, but understood Batsios' friendly, "Hi, Baby!" He shrugged, it would eventually get straightened out. "Baby," 99's captain called to him, "start clearing brush in that area. I've got two men there already. Gage nodded and ran to join the others. ~*~*~*~*~ In the DeSoto living room Jennifer clicked the remote through the channels. Not much to choose from. "Cutter to Houston"...nnnno. "Silver Spoons"? Ricky Schroeder was cute, but way young for her. "T. J. Hooker"? Well, not a favorite, but "The Love Boat" was on next. Gopher was cute too...not that she would tell J.R. that. Of course, when they watched it together, he pretended no interest in Julie...but she could tell. "...Firemen on the scene of a raging fire in Paloma Canyon are desperately trying to save a group of homes directly in the path of the blaze. Behind me, firefighters are hard at work creating a firebreak as the flames race down the ridge in this direction. As you can see, the wind is picking up, carrying sparks for long distances and seriously hampering the efforts of the firemen." "Mommmmmmm!" Jennifer called, forgetting for the moment that her parents were at Johnny's house. She nosed closer to the television, trying to identify the numbers on the various engines and trucks. The camera man panned to show the large number of men and equipment involved in saving the houses. Almost as an afterthought he focused on Engine 127, Chet Kelly busily watching the dials and turning to survey the approaching fire. "Omigosh! Where's J.R.? You doofus! Would you point that thing at J.R.!" Jennifer yelled at the camera man, willing him to pick out and focus on the firefighter that was her special concern. She gulped, her throat going dry. The fire approached the houses from the opposite ridge, ravenously consuming everything in its path. "Get out of there! Hurry!" Chris clomped down the stairs, wondering what all the yelling was about. "Geez, Jen, you're gonna wake the dead!" Jennifer pointed at the screen. "J.R.'s in that," she said hoarsely. "It's gaining on them." Chris made out the engines from 127's, 51's and 99's. He whistled as a helicopter gave an aerial view of the fire which now spanned hundreds of acres. "And me still working in a stupid department store," he grumbled, his face wistful. "The Captain is motioning the men back," the reporter said excitedly. "They're being told to fall back." "Excuse me, sir, you have to get out of here now." Chris and Jen recognized Captain Jeff Brady of 51's speaking to the newsman. "You have to leave now, it's not safe here." "Are you giving up on these homes?" the newsman asked. "Are you going to desert these houses?" Brady raised an HT to his lips, "HT 99, HT 51, get out of there, we're moving to a new location." He turned to the news crew. "Did you people hear me? I said it's time to go." "Well, you heard it," the reporter told the camera, "they are unable to save these homes, some ten houses here in this quiet little commun..." The screen went black as the crew was obviously made to leave. The station cut back to the news desk. "We will bring you updates on this devastating fire as new developments occur. Fire Department sources tell us it is less than six percent contained at this point. Our thoughts are with those firefighters there in Paloma Canyon. This is Steve Redmond, Channel Two News. We now return to our scheduled programming." "What are you doing?" Chris asked Jennifer as his sister picked up the phone. "I'm calling out to Uncle Johnny's. That's where Mom and Dad are." Chris shrugged and turned to watch the rest of "T. J. Hooker". "Hello...Mom? Where's Dad and Uncle Johnny? They did? That's good. Hey, Mom, there's a bad fire in Paloma Canyon. J.R.'s there, and so is 51's and 99's. I was just watching it on Channel 2. They're gonna give updates, so you might want to turn on the TV." ~*~*~*~*~ Johnny and Roy sat in the Porsche and stared at the dark and vacant Station 127. Gage already put the extra shirts and other items on the front seat of the Rover. When the engine returned, he would tell J.R. that they were there. "Roy," Johnny asked finally with a sigh indicative of the internal battle he fought, "if this were Chris, what would you do?" "I don't know," Roy admitted. "Joanne says I'm pretty protective. I might have asked Vaughn to keep Chet in line from the beginning." "It never seemed to bother you when it was me," Johnny grumbled. He still felt the sting of being the Phantom's prime target after all these years. Roy shifted uneasily. Unfortunately that was too true. He laughed along with the others at the tricks pulled on his partner for all those years. Roy, himself, was younger then, and there wasn't much difference in age between Johnny and Chet. Mentally, there was probably none. "I guess it should have bothered me more, but the prank war was between you and Chet. You were two young, single guys, always insulting each other, always joking around. J.R. or Chris would be at a little more of a disadvantage, I guess, being younger and not experienced with Chet Kelly." "And we're talking about our kids," Johnny added. Roy nodded agreement. "Yeah, now we're talking about our kids. It's always easier to put up with something ourselves than to stand by and watch the people we love get hurt." "That's the bottom line, isn't it?" Johnny asked. "J.R. did nothing to ask for this. He's never insulted Chet Kelly, never hurt him in any way. Chet is using my son to get to me. It still is between him and me...it always has been." "That pretty well sums it up, Junior," Roy agreed. "Dammit! I can't let him get away with this. He's not gonna draw my son into this twelve-year prank war. Is the station open?" "There's one way to find out." Roy opened the door and started to head toward Station 127. Johnny stepped in front of him, hands raised in a halting gesture. "Roy, you don't have to do this. J.R. is my son and this...this vendetta is aimed at me." "Johnny, we're best friends, right?" Johnny nodded, waiting. "If you were around when my kids were born, you would have been their godfather. I would like to think I would have been J.R.'s if it were possible." Johnny nodded again, his crooked grin surfacing. He could see where this conversation was heading. "So, as J.R.'s should-have-been-godfather, and as his probable future father-in-law, I'm claiming my right to get in on this. Besides, I had to put up with you in the squad for eleven years of moaning and complaining about Chet Kelly. I figure I owe him for that too." Gage slapped Roy on the back. "Let's see what mischief we can make, Partner." The two men crossed the parking lot to the back kitchen door of the station. The handle turned easily and they slipped inside. "Wonder how long they'll be out." "Don't know. We'd better hurry though. First thing I want to do is find J.R.'s locker...then Chet's." "I'm gonna call Joanne and let her know we'll be a little late getting back." Nodding acknowledgement, Johnny headed to the locker room. He'd worked enough shifts at 127's to recall the location of everything. ~*~*~*~*~ The sound of the approaching fire mingled with the noise of the engines to create a steady roar as the evening wore on. J.R. continued working more out of habit than from directed thought. One more piece of brush to clear, and then another. His arms ached. His bruised shoulder felt like it was on fire, and the headache pounded with each fresh siren or shouted command. His back was to the engines, his face, drenched with sweat and red with exertion, toward the fire. 99's captain raised the Handy-Talkie to his ear and received the order to pull back. Shaking his head at the hours of effort that were now all for naught, he called to the men under his charge and motioned for them to leave with a wide sweeping gesture of his arm. Time to start all over again. Tight-lipped he led the men back toward the engines. One fireman didn't stop working. "Hey, Baby!" Batsios called, "Time to go!" Gage knew he was due for a break, but there were just two more scrawny bushes before the area was cleared. He turned and signaled to the other fireman that he understood, began to follow and then returned to the stubborn pieces of flora. He would rest when this last bit was done. After hacking with a mattock, J.R. reached for the brush and gave a yank, then sat down hard as it came away more easily than he expected. Three consecutive shifts took their toll; the effort required to get up and go for a break was just too much. He would rest right here then get back to work in a few minutes. As he closed his eyes and lay back, J.R. didn't notice that he was now alone. "Where's Gage?" Chet asked Captain Vaughn, noting that only five men were preparing to depart on Engine 127. "I sent him over to work with 99's and 45's on the firebreak. He must be still with them. Uneasy, Chet helped load the hoses onto the engine prior to evacuating the area. The Squab was assigned to 127's for the shift. He should be leaving with us, not some other station. After the hoses were secured, Chet approached Cap Vaughn again. "Cap, I haven't seen the Squa...uh Gage anywhere. I'm gonna go make sure he's all right, okay? He was looking pretty ragged." Vaughn wondered what new twist this was. "Kelly, if this is another one of your jokes..." "No, sir! I don't play games at a fire. I...just feel kind of responsible for him. I mean, I worked with the kid's father for eleven years, okay?" "Make it fast, Kelly," Vaughn said. He guessed it couldn't hurt. Chet approached the captain of 99's. "Cap, is Gage with you?" "You mean Baby? He went back to his own engine...didn't he?" "No, man. Maybe he's with 45's." Chet hurried toward the other engine, starting to panic. "Hey, Cap!" He waved at 45's captain just as the engine was ready to pull out. Gage wasn't with them, he could see at a glance. 45's captain told the engineer to wait and leaned out of the cab. "What's the matter?" "Cap, have any of you seen Gage? He's from 127's and he never came back to the engine. He was working on the firebreak. He isn't with 99's either." "Batsios!" The fireman jumped down when summoned and ran around to join Kelly and his captain who was now out of the cab. "You were working on the firebreak, weren't you? Did you see what happened to...was it Gage?" At Kelly's nod, Batsios paled. "I thought he left with the rest of us, Cap, I swear. He was right behind me. You mean he didn't come back?" "Where were you, man?" Kelly shouted, grabbing the lapels of Batsios' turnouts. "Come on!" The fire fighter from 45's took off at a dead run followed by his captain and crew mates, Chet Kelly hot on their heels. At the firebreak, thick smoke limited visibility to almost nil. They were racing against time...and the odds. The heat nearly overpowered the searchers as the fire approached unchecked. The firemen fanned out, keeping within sight of each other; a few had remembered to grab flashlights. "We've got to get out of here," 45's captain told Kelly. "He must be on one of the other trucks." "No, Cap! He never came back, I told ya. He's out here somewhere." Chet stubbornly refused to give up. We can't leave without finding him. John's boy can't be lost in the fire. Oh hell! What am I gonna tell Gage? Captain Vaughn shifted uneasily from foot to foot, waiting for the return of his engineer. Jeff Brady from 51's hurried over to 127's unhappy captain, followed by the captain from 99's . "Terry, what's the holdup? We were ordered out of here twenty minutes ago!" Brady looked ready to spit nails. "Gage never came back to the engine," Vaughn admitted. "Kelly went to look for him on the other engines. That was ten minutes ago. I haven't seen either of them since then." Brady immediately raised his HT. "Paloma Base, HT 51, we have a missing firefighter up on Lobos Road. We are still searching at this time." "10-4, 51. What is your current status?" As Brady communicated with the CP, Reynolds and Larkin hurried over to Captain Vaughn. "What's up, Cap? Where did Kelly go?" "Gage is missing," Vaughn admitted. "Kelly went to look for him." Reynolds ran for a flashlight while Larkin reached for his SCBA, determined to help with the search. At the firebreak, burning ash rained on the firefighters as they desperately searched for their missing comrade. Kelly, tears running unashamedly down his cheeks, stared at the ground as he walked, willing himself to locate the young man. "Kelly, we can't stay any longer," 45's captain informed him. "We're barely gonna make it out of here now." "Cap, we can't leave him," Chet shouted, "he's Johnny's son!" "I found him! I found him! Over here!" Batsios' yell brought the rest of the men on the double. "I'll take him," Kelly said, elbowing the others aside. J.R. Gage lay unconscious on the ground, looking for all the world as if he were taking an afternoon nap. Viewing the innocent expression on the boy's soot-smeared face, Chet was reminded of Little Boy Blue, peacefully sleeping under the haystack while mischief broke out all around. Grinning like a child on Christmas morning, the Phantom lifted J.R. to his shoulders and plunged toward the engine, mindless of the smoke and ash-filled air. As Kelly approached, Vaughn ran out to walk back with him. "Put him up in the cab, Kelly, I'll ride in his spot." Chet complied. "Now let's get the hell out of here while we still can!" Vaughn climbed aboard and waved to the other captains. The engines pulled out onto the road heading for the Command Post, all firefighters accounted for. ~*~*~*~*~ John Gage, a huge satisfied grin playing on his lips, entered the dayroom at Station 127 to find his partner glued to the television watching a fire. "Hey, Partner, I thought you were in this with me." Roy pointed to the events taking place on the screen. "Now we know where they are, Johnny. I called Joanne at your house. She said Jennifer saw 127's on Channel 2 at this fire." Johnny sat down and watched intently; his son was in that unholy mess. "...now we cut back to Jerry at the Command Post. Jerry, I understand there was a firefighter injured." "That's right, Steve. It was a dramatic rescue involving a group of firefighters working frantically to save a small cluster of houses, homes which were lost after a heroic struggle. The firemen, instructed to evacuate, were all set to pull out when it was discovered that one of them was missing. Steve, you can see an aerial view of that situation now. The place is completely engulfed in flames, yet only moments ago, five fire trucks and their crews refused to leave without their missing man. The thickness of the smoke, and the proximity of the fire was so great that they were again ordered to evacuate. Again they delayed, searching for their own. The tenacity of the men was repaid soon after the second evacuation call. Against almost impossible odds, the missing man was found and is even now being brought here to the Command Post where paramedics are waiting to treat him." "Jerry that's a real illustration of the strength of the human spirit. Do we know the name of the firefighter?" "Steve, it's my understanding that the name is being withheld until the family has been notified." "Do you have any indication of how seriously he was injured?" "Steve, we do not know at this time. You want to angle over there a minute?" This to the cameraman. "We can see the five trucks coming in now. The one in front appears to be...I think it is 137, it's hard to tell in the dark and the haze that is hanging over the whole area." "137?" Johnny looked puzzled. "Why would they be there? They're way over on the other side of the county!" "No...Steve I stand corrected. The first truck coming in is number 127. The paramedics are running up to meet them and you can see a man being lifted out of the cab. He appears unconscious, I'm going to see if I can learn anything more. This is Jerry Dryden for Channel 2. Now back to you, Steve." "No!" Johnny yelled. "You idiot! Go back to the fire!" "I'm gonna call Joanne and see if..." Johnny nodded bleakly, his eyes never leaving the television screen. Something told him that limp figure in sooty turnouts was his son. The television station gave no further news about the injured firefighter, although the anchorman did show a map of the area and pointed out the extent of the fire. High winds fanned the flames, rapidly driving the fire southward. Tones blared and echoed in the empty station summoning still more men and equipment to battle the blaze that now threatened a larger community. "Johnny!" Roy's voice called from the kitchen area. As Johnny approached, Roy mouthed the words "Chief McConnike". Gage looked at the phone like it was a rattlesnake poised to strike. He knew then that the injured fireman was his son, and that this was the notification to the next of kin. Johnny swallowed the lump in his throat that threatened to strangle him and managed to speak. "Yes, Chief." Roy hovered nervously, watching Johnny's face. Upon answering the phone, Joanne immediately told him McConnike had called and they were to phone in. Chris would pick her up in the morning if Roy couldn't make it back to the ranch before shift change. Meanwhile she would be watching the television. After few words and a relieved look, Johnny hung up the phone. "It was J.R.; he's on his way to Rampart. Mostly dehydration and smoke inhalation, but he's disoriented and pretty incoherent. They're pumping him full of fluids and he's on O2." "I think you can probably add exhaustion to that." Roy shook his head, relieved that J.R. was not seriously injured, but certain the son was as stubborn as his father. Johnny nodded. "The chief also said that C-Shift is going to relieve B-Shift at the scene if they don't have the fire under control by morning. At this point, that looks pretty doubtful." "Well, anything can happen," Roy said optimistically. "Meanwhile, I'm sure you want to be at Rampart. Did you accomplish everything here that you needed to?" He received a half-hearted grin in reply. "I think it will be enough." The two men turned off the television and the lights, then left Station 127. Roy clapped his best friend on the back, startling Johnny from his preoccupation with J.R. "Johnny, now that we know he's gonna be all right, I'm going to pick up Joanne and head home, maybe get a few hours sleep before I have to go out in that mess. Gage nodded acknowledgement and gave an absent wave as he made for the Land Rover. ~*~*~*~*~ "Well, well, if it isn't J.R. Gage." Dixie McCall walked beside the gurney as it was wheeled down the hall toward Treatment Three. "What have you done to yourself this time?" J.R. stared bleary-eyed at the passing lights on the ceiling as they raced by above him. A woman's voice from a very great distance called his name and asked him a question. His eyes flickered. He was so tired...so tired. The voice ceased as the world settled into a comfortable haze. There was a blessed coolness as his sweat soaked turnout pants and T-shirt were removed and a sheet thrown over him. Someone took off his socks and seemed to be tickling his feet. He was too tired to laugh, but a soft smile worked its way to the surface. "J.R....J.R. Gage, open your eyes." He tried to comply, but it was hard. Couldn't they just let him sleep? "Hey! Fireman Gage, wake up!" His eyelids were forced open and a bright light invaded the comfortable darkness for a moment, then departed. He felt a constricting pressure on his left arm and tried to move away. "Hold still, we're just taking your blood pressure." Dixie put a soothing hand on his shoulder. J.R. winced. "Still 90/60, Joe," she reported. "Try it sitting up." J.R. felt himself raise up; a wave of nausea enveloped him and he gagged. Weak as a kitten, he was supported by strong hands as the constriction on his arm resumed. "75/45. Joe, look at this." Dixie pointed to the purple bruise that started at J.R.'s shoulder and continued down his back. He moaned as Dr. Early palpitated the darkly bruised area of his back and shoulder. Carefully they laid him back down. "X-rays?" Mike Morton asked, heading toward the phone on the treatment room wall. "Just as a precaution," Joe affirmed. "What is it with you Gage men," Early asked, "you sure do like to keep us doctors busy." The voice seemed to come from a long way off. "He's going out on us..." In the corridor, Johnny approached the two paramedics conversing at the base station desk. They were covered with soot and dead on their feet. He recognized one of them as Bob Phillips from 99's B-Shift. The other must be Phillips' partner, new to the program. Phillips was a bluff, stocky man, shorter than Johnny, but he always wore a smile. His fresh-faced partner attempted to look serious and no-nonsense. Johnny could relate. He had wanted to be taken seriously too as a young fireman. "Hey guys, what's the news from the fire?" Gage sauntered over to the two men. Not long ago this might have been him. The younger man did a double take, first looking at the treatment room door, and then at Johnny. He gestured, a puzzled look on his face, "Didn't we just..." "Captain Gage," Phillips acknowledged, ignoring his junior partner. "It's still pretty hairy out there, but the wind is dying down a little bit. We'll be going back pretty soon." "Are you the ones that brought in my son?" Johnny tried to look casual, and failed. "That's...that's your son in there?" The junior paramedic, Chad Marks, gawked at Johnny. Was I ever that young? Johnny wondered. Phillips snorted. "He's gonna be fine, Cap. He's dead tired and really out of it, but not even singed. It was a close call, though. Captain Vaughn said if Kelly hadn't missed him, and insisted they stay to search, he might have been left behind." "Chet Kelly insisted...what?!!" "They were split up, Cap. J.R. was working on the firebreak while the rest of the engine crew hosed down the houses. Everybody thought the kid was with somebody else. Kelly wouldn't settle for that and rushed around looking for him. Said he wasn't gonna leave without 'Gage's boy'." "Where did they find him?" Johnny felt his throat constrict. "He was laying on the ground at the firebreak. Nobody saw him fall, so we don't really know what happened. Batsios from 45's said he was right behind them when they evacuated. He must have gone back." "Anyway," the junior paramedic chimed in, "Kelly and the guys from Engine 45 went back and searched the firebreak. The fire was getting real close, thick smoke, flying embers, see, and..." "Marks, he doesn't need any dramatics here, he's upset enough." Phillips silenced his partner with a stern look and continued his account. "One of the men from 45's, it was Batsios in fact, found him, Cap, and Kelly carried him out. That nutty engineer wouldn't let anybody else near the kid until they got to the engine. Vaughn helped Kelly get him in the cab then rode on the outside of the engine back to the Command Post." "Kelly saved my son's life?" Johnny felt a rush of gratitude toward the stocky Irishmen. He always knew Chet was a heluva fireman, but it took a real crisis before he realized just how good a friend the man really was. All the petty insults and ill-timed jokes paled in comparison to the precious gift Chet Kelly had just restored to him. "Oh, no!" Johnny remembered what was awaiting The Phantom upon his return to 127's. He looked at his watch. He would just have time to check on J.R. and return to 127's to dismantle the booby traps before reporting to work at 51's. "Guys, thanks again." Johnny held out his hand to each of the paramedics before turning toward Treatment Three...and his son. "Is he really that guy's father? That fireman can't be much younger than me. No wonder they call him 'Baby'." Johnny heard Marks say he walked away. "That captain had to be just a kid himself when..." ~*~*~*~*~ "Mom!" Jennifer shrieked, running like a blond cannonball toward her parents as they walked in the kitchen door at the side of the house. "Mom...oh hi, Daddy...Mom they just said on TV that the injured fireman was J.R. Gage!" Jennifer threw herself into Joanne's arms. Chris DeSoto yawned and stretched as he rose lazily from the sofa. "I'm glad you guys are home. Jen's been shrieking like a demon ever since they said it was J.R. How's a guy supposed to close his eyes, I wanna know." He looked at his sister in disgust. Used to Jennifer's theatrics and tendency to speak in exclamation points when she was excited, Joanne guided her daughter to the sofa and pushed her down, then plopped down beside her. "He's going to be fine. He was dehydrated and inhaled a little too much smoke. Johnny's gone to Rampart. He'll call if there are any other problems." "Mom, we've got to go to Rampart! I've got to see for myself that he's okay. What if they didn't tell you everything? What if he's really hurt bad? Dying...or...or disfigured...or..." "Geez, Jen! Look at you! What kind of fireman's wife are you gonna make? What guy wants his wife going crazy every time he eats a little smoke?" Chris shook his head in disgust. A constant diet of Jennifer's hysterics for the past half hour ran him completely out of patience. Jennifer blinked in surprise. It was something she hadn't considered. Her father was hurt several times over the years, mostly minor injuries, but Joanne seemed to remain steadfastly calm. "How have you managed it all these years, Mom," she asked. In light of Chris' remark, Joanne didn't even pretend not to understand. "I didn't always," Joanne admitted. "There were times, expecially during bad fires like the one tonight, that I was worried sick. But I had the two of you to think about. I tried not to act too upset in front of you, and I knew that the last thing your dad needed was to have to worry about me too. He needed to concentrate on his job. So I pasted a smile on my face and pretended not to worry." "You faked it!" Chris grinned. Isn't it amazing, Joanne mused, how kids can cut through all the unnecessary words? "I faked it," she agreed. Jennifer looked thoughtful for a few moments, then more determined. "Well, if you could do it, then I guess I can. It really bothers J.R. when I cry." Jo wasn't sure whether she'd just been complimented or insulted. "It bothers everyone when you cry," Chris informed his sister. "If you can't stop it, at least tone it down." "I don't know what you mean." Jennifer frowned at her brother, standing to face him arms akimbo. "No?" Chris screwed up his face and let loose in a shrill, whiny falsetto, "Daaaddy, Chris ate the last donut!" He stamped his foot and crossed his arms, lower lip extended in a pout. Roy covered his mouth with one hand to hide a wide grin. Chris had his sister's routine nailed. "Christopher!" Joanne managed not to smile...barely. "Mommmmm, he's making fun..." Jennifer trailed off just as her left foot stomped on the linoleum. Chris broke into a grin that was a carbon copy of his father's, then made a gesture as if to say, "see?". Lifting her chin to depart with dignity, Jennifer DeSoto sailed out of the kitchen and up the stairs. The effect was spoiled a little by the pouting frown that turned down the corners of her mouth. ~*~*~*~*~ Johnny pulled into the parking lot at 127's just as the engines backed into the bay. He raced in to view thirteen dirty, tired figures step wearily down and head for the showers. Most didn't even mark his presence. A few waved and smiled a tired smile. Only Terry Vaughn approached to talk to him; courtesy demanded it. "John," Vaughn nodded toward Captain Gage, acknowledging his presence. "Good mornin', Terry." Distractedly Johnny watched Chet Kelly depart the engine and remove his turnouts. Any moment now the engineer would head for the locker room. "Look, I can't say enough how sorry I am about your boy nearly getting left out there." Vaughn figured Gage had come for an explanation and an apology. "Nah, forget it. He just worked too many shifts. Not your fault." Johnny craned his neck to watch Kelly's progress. When the man started across the bay, Johnny quickly said, "Excuse me." That was damned peculiar, Vaughn thought, watching John Gage tear off across the apparatus bay as if pursued by demons. He shook his head. Maybe I'm not meant to understand. "Uh, Chet..." Johnny caught up with the engineer and slid to a stop in front of him, blocking the entrance to the locker room. "Is there something you want, Gage...er Cap?" Kelly asked. "I'm dog tired and I need a shower." "Um...well," Johnny stalled, thinking fast, "I...um...wanted to know about the fire. I figured we'd be heading out there this morning and..." Chet squinted at his opponant in disbelief. "I'm sure the chief would have briefed you, Gage. But the fire's contained now. 51's was sent home the same time we were." Kelly shook his head and made to push his way past Johnny. Johnny hurried to block his way yet again. "Um, how did you find J.R.? I mean it was so smoky and all out there." "We just looked until we found him. Look, man, why are you really here? I'm in a hurry to shower and change before we get another run. It's still a good twenty minutes to shift change. Speaking of that, why are you still here?" The Phantom's curiosity began to kick in. "I just wanted to know the details. Phillips from 99's said you were the one that went back after J.R." Johnny leaned on the doorway, blocking Chet's access to the lockers. "Yeah, I guess so. Look, Gage, you can hear all about it and be grateful later when I'm not too beat to listen. Now will you move!" Chet pushed Johnny out of the way and headed for his locker. As he reached to open the door, Johnny's hand reached in and forcefully held it closed, then the captain slipped in and leaned against the door, still trying to look casual. "How about coming to dinner day after tomorrow, Chet," he said desperately, still trying to figure a graceful way out of what was about to happen. "Dinner? All right, Gage, what's going on? You never ask me to dinner." Johnny thought he had a reprieve as Chet crossed his arms and looked at him skeptically. "I...uh...wanted to express my gratitude and...uh..." Johnny stammered. Chet reached for the handle of his locker and Johnny slapped his hand away. "Oh, hell!" Johnny pushed Chet out of the way and stood in front of the locker. He opened it himself with a deep sigh. Chet watched in disbelief. Captain John Gage received a face full of water, followed by shaving cream, confetti, and baby powder. At least he knew to close his eyes. Without a word, Johnny wiped some of the mess away and started toward the parking lot. "You're welcome," Chet called after him, his eyes twinkling. "Round two...The Phantom." Kelly smiled through the soot and grime that crusted his face. It's been a good shift after all. ~*~*~*~*~ For the first time, J.R. Gage walked into Station 15 through the kitchen door, trying not to be noticed. He slipped into the locker room and let a tiny smile tug at the corners of his mouth as he opened his locker and nothing happened. All he saw was the usual contents of his locker...and a picture of Smokey Bear. It was a gift from his dad for good luck. "Gage! My office...now!" Captain Riley's voice echoed through the station. J.R.'s smile faded. This was going to be unpleasant, he knew. Still half dressed, buttoning his shirt as he stood, J.R. took a deep breath and knocked on Riley's office door. As the door opened, he tucked in the shirt tails and waited. "You wanted to see me, Cap?" "Come in." Riley didn't offer him a seat, but let the young fireman stand at attention before him. "I just got off the phone with Captain Vaughn of 127's. He was too tired to call last shift, so he saved the good news for today. I don't like it when one of my men plays dangerous games." "But Cap..." "Stow it Gage. You reported for a second overtime shift already too tired to work. If you hadn't fallen asleep at the scene of a fire and ended up in the hospital, you would have reported in here the next morning in a condition unfit for duty. You endangered the lives of your crew mates at 127, the men of 45's who searched for you and you were willing to risk the lives of your station mates here the next day. I should suspend you." J.R. held his breath. Every word Cap Riley said was true. He'd heard the same speech already from his father two days ago, interspersed with terms like "foolish", "stupid" and "not worth it". "Yes, sir," J.R. whispered, gulping. It was his first reprimand. "Instead I'm going to put you on a modified form of probation." J.R. looked at him wide-eyed, unsure which was worse. "Until further notice, you will be limited to only one overtime shift. You will report to work sufficiently rested to perform your duties. If you are ever too sick or too tired to work, I expect you to tell me. You will also get my appoval before working any more overtime shifts. Is that understood?" "Yes, sir," J.R. whispered again. "What was that? Did you say something?" "I said, 'Yes, sir'," Gage replied, louder this time. "Gage, do you know what this little incident has meant? I was watching television at home, enjoying my days off, when a news bulletin interrupts my show. First I see a fireman carried unconscious from a brush fire. Later I learn it was one of MY men. Then, the TELEVISION says it was because the man fell asleep in the middle of a fire. I've received phone calls from Chief McConnike, Chief Houts, several television stations and the Fire Department public relations people." J.R. hung his head. "I didn't mean to cause so much trouble, Cap. I'm sorry. I guess I'm just a screw-up after all." "Gage," Riley sighed in frustration, "...get outta here. And straighten your badge, it's crooked." He was glad his daughter Kalie found someone else to pursue. This one would be DeSoto's problem off-duty. J.R. straightened his badge in front of the mirror and debated whether or not to just sit in the dorm until roll call. Ten minutes could be a long time to put up with the razzing he was sure would come. Farms Farmer and Del Nichols entered the locker room, hurrying to their lockers. Winston and Crawford were in the kitchen already. J.R. walked purposefully toward the dorm. "Hey, Baby!" J.R. halted, a pained look on his face as Farms began what promised to be a merciless teasing this shift. "Leave him alone," Nichols warned Farmer. "It probably wasn't fun being 'Baby Gage' for a whole shift." "He must have got used to it, though," Farms continued, "he even managed to get in a nap." J.R. silently left the locker room and headed for the kitchen. Might as well get it all over with now. "Well, well, if it ain't Sleeping Beauty!" Crawford leaned back in his chair and stroked his ginger-colored mustache in amusement. "No, it's the Baby Gage doll. He drinks, he gets wet, and he can sleep through a fire." Walt Winston's voice was slightly less than booming as Crawford cackled in appreciation. Farms and Nichols joined the others. "Hey, I heard he went to a fire with egg on his face." J.R. was glad to hear Riley's voice. "All right you laughing hyenas, line up for roll call." Fifteen minutes later, J.R. was only too happy to fill his mop bucket at the utility sink and head for the latrine. Roll call proved to be only slightly less painful than the rest of the morning. He would probably have latrine detail for some time to come. He'd embarrassed the station. In the locker room, Del Nichols shook his head sadly as he spoke to Kit Crawford. "...so anyway, I'm gonna have to cancel our trip to San Francisco. Stoker's mother-in-law decided to come for a visit, and he won't be able to work my shifts. At this late date, there's no way I can find someone to work for me." "That's a shame, pal," Crawford told him, "I know you were looking forward to this vacation." Both men leaned against the lockers talking as J.R. passed by, looking straight ahead. Crawford couldn't resist. "Hey, Gage, when you gonna work some more overtime at 127's?" "When hell freezes over, Crawford," J.R. replied, squeezing out the mop preparatory to cleaning the floor. Del Nichols stood up transfixed, a grin split his lips and he tore from the room. Moments later he was back, the grin wider and firmly in place. "Kit, I could kiss you!" Nichols told FF/PM Christopher Crawford. "I'm going on the trip after all." "Don't even think about kissing me," Kit warned him. "What do you mean you're going on the trip? Did Stoker change his mind?" "Nope! I remembered one other person to call. I have a substitute for the next two shifts." "Really? That's great? Who is it?" Crawford looked at the engineer, puzzled. "My pal, Chet Kelly!" "NOOOOOOOO!" Both men heard a SMACK as the mop dropped and J.R. Gage sank to the floor, heedless of the water, his head in his hands. At his apartment across town, Chet Kelly hung up the phone and walked to his recliner. Two whole shifts next week with The Squab. Life had meaning again. THE END? feedback for Nexxie return to main menu