Stars and Stripes By Stella Roy DeSoto grinned and took in the heady aroma of meat cooking over the white-hot coals. It sputtered and sizzled, and along with the pleasant sounds of people talking, kids screeching in glee and the dog barking as he chased the kids around the yard…it was a perfect day. Not even a cloud in the cerulean blue sky. Roy was happy to have the day off for once, so the crew of Station 51 could enjoy the annual DeSoto Independence Day Picnic on the 4th of July, not the day before or after as so often happened. "Hey, Roy, don't cremate those burgers, man!" Roy shook his head and laughed. "I thought you liked 'em well done, Chet." "Not THAT well done," Chet replied as he sidled up to the paramedic and pulled the spatula out of his hand. "What's up? You looked like you were a million miles away there for a second." "Nothing. I was just thinking how perfect today is. No work, everybody on our shift is here…." "Except for Gage." "He's coming. Don't worry." Roy gave Chet a look and continued. "Like I said, we're here with the crew and the families, and we're all gonna have a great time without worrying about the tones going off." Chet nodded in agreement. "Yeah, working the 4th really stinks. Last year, you and Johnny had nothing but runs all day." "Hey, don't talk about work," Captain Stanley chided with a tone of authority. "We're here to have fun, remember?" "Fun? It will be, now that I'm here." Roy turned to face his partner, and Chet gently pushed him out of the way to flip the burgers. Roy grinned at Johnny. "It's about time you showed up. Jennifer was getting worried you weren't going to be here." "Hah! I'd never miss one of the famous DeSoto barbecues for anything!" Johnny acknowledged JoAnne, Roy's wife, as she approached him. "Hey, Jo." "Johnny, always good to see you." She slipped an arm around his waist and hugged him as she took the six pack out of his hand. "You know where everything is. Make yourself at home." Before Johnny could accept a beer from Roy, Jennifer ran onto the deck and launched herself into his arms. "Uncle Johnny! You're here! You're here!" "Of course, sweetheart. You knew I was coming." Jennifer slid out of Johnny's grasp until her feet touched the deck. It wasn't as long a slide as it used to be. The girl was growing up fast. Clutching his hand quickly, she exclaimed, "Come on! You've gotta be my partner! Chris is bragging that he and Marco can beat us, but I know you could beat 'em both with one hand tied behind your back." Johnny grinned and squeezed her hand as he let her lead the way. "You think so?" As he stepped off the deck, JoAnne handed him a bottle. He thanked her silently and continued toward the back of the yard. "Yup! Let's show 'em!" Jennifer led Johnny to a stretch of lawn farthest from the guests. Two bright orange plastic rings lay in the grass approximately 25 feet apart, and beside one, two yellow and two red darts rested with points buried in the earth. Lawn darts was a tradition at the DeSoto barbecues, and this year, Roy and JoAnne decided the kids were old enough to participate. Johnny knew both Chris and Jennifer had been practicing for weeks, just so they could show off at the picnic. This wasn't just any old lawn darts match. This was sibling against sibling, and bragging rights were on the line. The game took longer than usual, given the fact that both kids were so serious about the shots they took, so careful to get them on their mark. Jennifer was the first to land dead center in the ring, and Marco, Johnny, and Chris (grudgingly) handed her a quarter each. She beamed brighter than the sun, scrunched up her face and stuck out her tongue in a most un-sportsmanlike way toward Chris. Chris returned it, and the war was really on. * * * * * * * * Jennifer giggled as she jangled the change in her pocket. "Bet you we'll win again, Chris. I bet ya." Jingle, jingle. She snickered at the black look he threw her. "Don't worry, Chris, we'll get 'em next time," Marco assured as he threw an arm around the boy's shoulders. "I want a rematch now," Chris grumbled. "No way, young man. You and your sister go inside and get washed up." JoAnne glanced down at them from the deck, a plate of cooked burgers in her hands. Her eyes moved up toward Johnny and Marco. "You too…boys." Her eyes crinkled with merriment along with her smile. "Nobody eats with grubby hands. Got it?" "Yeah, Mom," Marco teased as he guided Chris past his mother and into the house. "Mom? Boy, she started young," Johnny cracked. "Johnny Gage!" JoAnne balanced the plate in one hand and smacked Johnny's behind with the other. "No wonder my kids act so smart. They get it from you." Johnny laughed as he ushered Jennifer into the house. The foursome returned to find everyone seated at the picnic table in the yard or on lawn chairs set in a large circle. Everyone piled their plates high with food and enjoyed the tastes and each other's company. There was barely enough time to let the large lump in his stomach settle before Jennifer stood beside Johnny, begging him to accept the challenge of a rematch from Chris and Marco. "Aw man, Jenn, just give me a little time, okay?" "But Uncle Johnny! We have to defend our title!" Johnny grinned and chuckled, but he didn't make a move to stand. Then it happened. Jennifer gave him those beautiful blue eyes, the eyes he could never say no to. And for extra effect, she rested her hand on his shoulder, putting just enough pressure on it. He looked up, saw those eyes again, pleading silently, and he sighed heavily. "Please? Just one game, I promise!" "Okay. One game. That's it." Jennifer nodded vigorously. "That's it. That's what I promised!" * * * * * * * * What ever happened to just one game, Johnny wondered to himself. After Marco and Chris won the rematch, Jennifer looked up at Johnny again with those eyes. They had to play again, best out of three. He would rather have gone back to his seat and chatted with the others. Then he overheard Chet making bets that Marco and Chris would win again. Thankfully, Roy disagreed. The others quickly put in their assessments, and in no time at all, Johnny was forced to play again. It wasn't just the issue of winning any more. He and Jennifer had to prove they were the better team. The pressure was on, but all through the game, Johnny and Marco both coached the kids to relax and take their time. The game was even longer than the first round, and some of the shots from both sides were erratic. Until everyone got into the act giving their opinions, and betting who would win, most of the adults didn't even bother watching the game. Now all eyes were glued to the action. It was Jennifer's turn, and her two shots had the chance of giving them the win if she played them right. She eyed the orange circle over the tip of the dart. It might as well have been a million miles away. Chris fidgeted next to her and she glared at him. Jennifer returned her attention to the target. "Just take your time, Jenn," Johnny urged her calmly. "Shut everything out but the circle." If she could hit inside the circle, she could throw the other dart away and miss by a country mile. But if she didn't make it, her last shot would be the most important one. "Come on, take the shot. We don't have all day," Chris muttered. "Shut up, dummy!" Jennifer exclaimed out of the side of her mouth. Her focus returned. Now was the time to pull the dart back into an arc, swing it forward, and at just the right moment, let it go…. Everyone watched the beautiful path of the flashing yellow dart as it sailed into the air, tail spinning gracefully, propelling it forward. Mouths gaped when they saw where it was heading. This was it, the shot Jennifer needed for her and Johnny to win. The crowd shouted and cheered, and some jumped out of their seats, whistling. Sparks, the DeSoto family dog, was just as excited as everyone else. The dog had been resting in the shade beside Roy's chair, but now he got up to see what all the fuss was about. He heard someone, his master, call his name, but he continued on his path. Johnny saw the dog out of the corner of his eye moments after Jennifer's dart hit the inside of the circle. He knew Chris had one more chance to land in the center and thwart their victory. They didn't need the dog running in here and getting hit. "Chris…." It was too late to stop the small missile. Johnny dove for Sparks, hoping to get him out of the way. His body hit the ground, a rush of air squeezed out of him, and he felt his arms curl around the dog. A second later, something hit his thigh, but he didn't pay it much attention. He was more concerned about Sparks. "Hey, you okay, buddy?" Sparks stood and licked Johnny's face in thanks. "Oh my…Johnny, don't move!" "Marco?" Johnny squinted up at his fellow firefighter. "What…." Strange that he didn't feel it right away, but now a sharp pain shot from his right inner thigh, up his spine, and straight to his brain. He knew what it was, and part of him didn't want to look, but he did anyway. "Uncle Johnny! I'm sorry!" Suddenly, voices blended into a mass of shouts, cries, and hurried tones. Roy was beside him in an instant, barking to JoAnne to go in the house and call for help. Johnny screwed his eyes closed. He couldn't see them, but he sensed everyone crowding in. "Back off," Roy urged as calmly as he could. "Give him some room." Johnny met his partner's blue gaze. He could see the stress behind Roy's eyes. Roy grinned shakily and cracked, "Things around here just weren't exciting enough for you, were they, Johnny?" "Well, I didn't think you'd want shish kebob dog for supper," Johnny replied weakly. He half sat with his elbows digging into the grass, trying to keep himself calm while his eyes were drawn to the wound. It wasn't good, and Roy knew it too. He tried to slow his respirations, but it wasn't easy. Plus, he was already feeling woozy from the blood loss. Roy saw the signs. Johnny was ready to go out, and it was only a few seconds after the accident happened. As soon as he'd fallen on his knees beside his friend, Roy pressed his hands against the wound. It hurt his partner, but he had to stop the bleeding. If it was an artery…Roy couldn't think about that. Just stop the bleeding. Just stop the bleeding. He kept telling himself that inside, the voice growing more frantic, but on the outside, he was calming Johnny and making the joke about his partner trying to stir up some excitement. "It's okay, partner. You're gonna be okay." Johnny slipped off his elbows and sank back into the grass. His eyes closed, and Roy frowned. Unconsciously, he pressed harder on the wound. He'd hoped that the dart would stay in the hole, but it was made of smooth steel. The second the blood flowed, the tip slid out. Johnny could bleed to death on his lawn before help arrived. Roy forced that thought out of his mind. Hearing sirens nearing helped. "Roy, honey, I called Station 16 directly. They're on the way." JoAnne might have just bought Johnny a few extra minutes by calling the closest station and not going through dispatch. Roy silently said a word of thanks that the week before he posted a list of nearby stations by the phone, just in case. Now, having that extra time might make all the difference in whether or not they saved Johnny. Roy managed to keep most of the rising anxiety out of his voice as he spoke. "I need something to help stop this bleeding. Can somebody find something?" "Here, use this." Roy didn't even look at what was handed him; he just balled it up and pressed it against the wound. The red surprised him for a moment, but then he realized it wasn't Johnny's blood. It was their flag. Questions flitted through his brain, like whose idea this was, but he didn't really care about the answers right now. The only answer he wanted was that the bleeding stopped. But it hadn't, and he was worried. "DeSoto, what happened?" Roy glanced up and saw Brice and Bellingham parting the crowd. Roy shifted position slightly away from his partner as Brice squatted beside him and examined the makeshift bandage. "What happened?" Brice repeated the question as he got a look at the stab wound and shook his head. "They were playing with the lawn darts, and the dog got in the way. Johnny dove in and tried to get Sparks out of the way, when he got hit." "Lawn darts," Brice muttered. Little did Roy and the others know they'd already been to two other calls involving the insidious little weapons. Bellingham took Johnny's vitals while Brice replaced the impromptu pressure bandage with a real one. He exchanged them quickly and smoothly, and the bloodied flag he tossed aside without caring where it went. "DeSoto, would you mind?" He indicated the pressure bandage with the tilt of his chin. "Sure." Roy placed his hands beside Brice's and continued the pressure. Brice turned toward the biophone, opened it, and without looking at Bellingham, grabbed the sheet of paper with the vitals on it. "Rampart, this is Squad 16." "Go ahead, 16." "Rampart, we have a male, approximately 27, with a puncture wound to his inner right thigh. His vitals are BP 90/60, pulse 120 and thready, and respirations are 16. We've applied a pressure bandage and suspect an artery may have been hit." "Ten-four, 16." Dr. Kelly Brackett answered. "Administer an IV with Ringers and continue pressure. Transport as soon as possible." "Ten-four, Rampart. Ambulance has just arrived." By the time the attendants brought in the stretcher, the IV flowed and Bellingham finished taping it down. Johnny was quickly placed on the stretcher, and the attendants wheeled him over the grass toward the gate. Roy followed unconsciously and fell into step beside Brice, who carried the gear. "I wanna go with him," Roy declared firmly. "You know the regulations, DeSoto…." "I don't give a damn, I'll sit in front if that'll make you happy. I'm going." Brice shrugged as he handed Bellingham the biophone, then turned to Roy. "I have no problem with that." He closed the doors as Roy trotted to the front seat of the ambulance. By the time he signaled to the driver by thumping on the doors twice, Roy was already buckled in. Brice turned toward the squad and noticed all the people gathered in the front yard, squinting or holding their hands up to shield their eyes from the afternoon sun. One face stood out as the woman neared. "Is he going to be okay?" JoAnne DeSoto, he remembered. He'd met her briefly, once, at some firefighters' social function. Trying a reassuring smile, he answered, "They'll take good care of him at Rampart. If you'll excuse me….." "Of course." JoAnne backed away and let Brice get into the squad. "We'll be there shortly." With a single nod, Brice started the engine and backed out of the small sliver of driveway he'd managed to park in when they arrived. The curbs were parked full of cars, and he was lucky to get into such a small space. The ambulance driver was forced to park half in the street. Brice really had no idea if Gage would be okay. As he drove to Rampart, he thought about the others. So far, he and Bellingham were one for one on the lawn dart incidents. The first was a child who walked into the path of a dart and it sliced the crown of her head. There was a lot of blood and pain, but after a few stitches, the girl would be fine. They weren't so lucky on the second call. The boy, struck in the chest with the dart, died on the way to the hospital. Brice was glad that Bellingham went in the ambulance. If Gage didn't make it, he didn't want to have to go through that again. This time, he wouldn't be facing just a couple of parents, but a whole station of men and their families. He didn't want to be the one to tell them he did everything he could but it wasn't enough. There was so much blood, it must have been an artery. If that was the case, he could easily bleed out before the doctors had a chance to fix it. The ambulance was empty when Brice backed the squad into the space beside it. He got out of the squad and headed for the nurses' station in the emergency department to wait for Bellingham. Most likely, his partner would be in the treatment room with Gage and Roy, or making a cafeteria run. "Miss McCall, have you seen my partner?" Brice greeted Dixie, not with a hello, but with a question. Dixie wasn't surprised. She'd already seen the paramedics several times already, and she figured that Brice was only good for one greeting a day. She studied the paramedic's face a moment before replying, wondering if he was thinking about Johnny and comparing this incident to the others. "He's in treatment three," Dixie answered. "Dr. Brackett is taking care of Johnny." Brice nodded as Bellingham exited the room. He saw him out of the corner of his eye, but instead of turning, he waited. He didn't want to see bad news written on his partner's face. "Doc thinks Johnny's gonna be okay," Bellingham reported with a smile. "The dart nicked an artery, but they'll get it fixed." He met Brice's eyes and saw the relief there. "We're 2-1 today on lawn darts, man." He grinned and slapped Brice on the back. "Good," Brice muttered, ignoring the contact. He fished a list out of his pants pocket and handed it to Dixie. "Let's get these supplies and head out. God only knows what other stupid injuries we'll see today." Dixie handed Brice the supplies, and he quickly stored them in the drug box. As he snapped the closures, he looked up and met her gaze. She smiled. "Hope things go better for you guys." "Thanks, Dix. See ya later!" Bellingham grinned at her and turned toward the exit with Brice beside him. "Hey, nice work on that bleeding," Brackett declared as the paramedics passed him in the hall. "Thanks." "Yeah, thanks, Doc. Later!" * * * * * * * * As Brice and Bellingham rode away from the emergency entrance, JoAnne and the kids arrived with a small entourage of firefighters and their families behind them. Together, they approached Dixie's desk. "How is he? Where's Roy?" JoAnne and the others peppered Dixie with questions, so she held up her hands. Over Chet's shoulder, she saw Roy emerge from treatment room three. She smiled and replied, "Why don't you ask Roy? He knows more than I do right now." The group turned to face him. If they hadn't all been his friends and family, Roy would have flinched from the sudden attention. Instead, he smiled. "Johnny's gonna be okay, I think. They're taking him to surgery to fix the artery, and he's getting blood, so…so he should be okay, barring any complications." Roy tried to sound more confident than he felt. He could see from the others faces that they'd known him too long to be fooled. "He's in good hands." "Yeah, Roy. Why don't we all wait in the waiting room," Capt. Stanley suggested. The others voiced their agreement, and the Captain led the way with his wife beside him. They were holding hands, and she glanced up at him, knowing well that the neutral look on his face was a façade. All the other men wore it too, but the women said nothing. The wives had been through the waiting, and they knew that just being there for them was enough. After they caught sight of Johnny's form on a gurney being pushed toward the elevator, no one spoke a word. Roy became increasingly agitated as he thought about the accident and how it happened. The game had become a routine part of their get-togethers. Arguments were started and settled over lawn darts. Friendships blossomed. How could something like this have happened? He wasn't the only one thinking about the day's events. "If Brice and Bellingham hadn't gotten there when they did…. " "Chet!" Stanley shushed his hoseman abruptly. "I never thought I'd use my American flag that way." Roy said to Stanley, out of the blue, as he wrung his hands, nervously waiting. "Roy, you had no choice. It was the only fabric around, and you had to stop the bleeding somehow." His captain replied softly, trying to comfort his friend and coworker. "I know but..." "No buts, Roy. Your actions saved his life." "Yeah, I know." Roy fell silent a moment. "By the way, who came up with that idea?" Mike nervously cleared his throat. "Sorry about your flag, Roy. It was just…I don't know. You needed something fast, and it was just there." "That's probably the fastest you've ever taken a flag down, eh Mike?" Marco grinned and the others laughed anxiously. Mike smiled thinly. "Yeah, probably." "I could have brought out a towel from the kitchen, but I just wasn't thinking," JoAnne confessed as Roy put a comforting arm around her. "I'm sorry, honey. I should have been thinking!" "It's okay, Jo." "JoAnne, the important thing is that what Mike did worked." Stanley turned to his senior paramedic. "Right, Roy? "Yeah. Good thinking, Mike." Roy shook his head in disbelief. "I'll never think of this holiday the same way again, Cap. The red in the flag will always have Johnny's blood on it." * * * * * * * * Mike Stoker glanced up and noticed Dr. Brackett coming off the elevator. "Doc's coming," he announced simply. Everyone turned like sunflowers seeking the rays of the sun. In this case, they were looking for good news, and by the smile on the doctor's face, they were sure they would get it. "Well, he's done it again," Brackett began, his smile turning into a wide grin. "John Gage has sideswiped death and lived to tell about it." "Whew! What a relief!" Capt. Stanley exclaimed as he rose from his chair to straighten out the kinks. "When can we see him?" "In a little while. He's being transferred to post-op ICU now. If there are no complications, he should be in a room by early evening." Brackett paused and glanced at the large group. "I want you to make your visits short, and not too many people at one time, okay? I want him to rest. He's lost a lot of blood, which we're still replacing, and he's bound to be tired. So go easy on him." "We will, Doc." Roy grinned. "Thanks." When Johnny was finally ready for visitors, his co-workers sent Roy and his family up alone. "Hi, Johnny," Roy greeted softly as they entered the room. "Roy." Johnny smiled weakly and raised his hand slightly off the sheets in greeting. "Jo…Chris and Jenn…thanks…thanks for coming." "Well, how could we stay away?" JoAnne approached the bed and patted Johnny's hand. "You should see the troops downstairs. Everybody wanted to come see you." Johnny frowned. "I'm sorry." "For what?" Roy and JoAnne looked puzzled. "For ruining the day…for you…'n everybody." "Oh, you didn't ruin it," Roy assured. "It was an accident." "Shouldn'ta did what I did." "No, I should have been watching the dog. If he hadn't gotten in the way, none of this would have happened." Johnny nodded. "Yeah, I s'pose so. He's okay, right?" "Oh yeah. I think he knows he's in the dog house for awhile," Roy answered and glanced at his wife. JoAnne smiled. "He definitely knows he did wrong. It won't happen again, I'd bet on that." "Me too." Johnny fought a yawn. "Smart dog." "We better let you get your rest." Roy took Johnny's unintentional cue and herded up his family. "We'll see you tomorrow. Say good-night, kids." "Night Uncle Johnny." "Night Uncle Johnny." Chris added, "When you get out of here, we'll have to finish that game." "We don't have to. I won…I mean, we won." Jennifer smiled sweetly at Johnny. "No way! I had one shot left!" Before their argument could become a full-out war of words, Roy gave his partner an apologetic look and steered his kids toward the door. At the threshold, he clamped a hand over each of their mouths, turned to his partner and wished him well. "Night, partner." "Night, Roy. Next year, I promise, I won't get hurt at the barbecue." "Yeah, well, we'll see, won't we?" He winked at Johnny and left with JoAnne and the kids. Johnny pressed his head into the pillow and sighed softly. It had been quite a day! Despite his protests, he really enjoyed playing the game with Marco and the kids, and the barbecue was fun, until this happened. Chris was right. They did have to finish that game. After he was better. 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