Chapter 5

 

Station 26’s overhead door was shut as Johnny passed by. He swung into the side driveway that would lead him to the rear parking lot.  He pulled the Land Rover into an empty space, climbed out, locked the door, and shut it.  The station’s back door that led into the dayroom, and the service door that led into the apparatus bay, were both closed.  The basketball hoop was idle, and none of the guys were about emptying garbage, hanging hose, or sitting at the picnic table shooting the bull.  Johnny wondered if Roy and his men were out on a call, but decided he wouldn’t know until he rang the bell.

 

Rather than ring the bell by the dayroom door, Johnny followed the sidewalk to the front of the building.  He stopped at the front door, hesitated a long moment, then pressed the bell with his index finger.  If Roy was in his office, he’d answer the summons.  That meant Johnny could guide the man back to his office, and the discussion could take place without the rest of Roy’s crew realizing Johnny had been there.  Not that his presence mattered to Roy’s crew, but if Roy came out of his office in a bad mood after Johnny left, then the less the men were aware of regarding who Roy’s visitor had been, the less likely that gossip would start to spread.

 

Because John Gage had often thought that if he didn’t have bad luck he’d have no luck at all, it didn’t surprise him when Roy didn’t answer the door, but rather, a paramedic did.

 

“Chief Gage!” the young man greeted, referring to Johnny by his formal title, as a result of John being the chief instructor of the paramedics.  “How are you?”

 

Johnny stepped into the building as the twenty-three-year-old opened the door wider. “I’m fine, Brett. How are you doin’?”

 

“Good. Still learning a lot, just like you said I would, but I really like being a paramedic.”

 

“Glad to hear it.”

 

Johnny looked over Brett’s shoulder as they stepped into the apparatus bay. Both Engine 26 and Squad 26 were parked there.

 

“Say, Brett, is Roy...Captain DeSoto around?”

 

“Yeah. He’s in the kitchen. We’re having a meeting. Come on, I’ll take you to him.”

 

Like I told Chris, timing is everything.

“No, no. That’s okay.  I’ll wait in his office until you guys are done.”

 

“Cap won’t mind,” Brett assured. 

 

By virtue of the fact that Brett had seen John Gage at Station 26 several times since he’d been assigned here seven months earlier, he knew his captain and the paramedic chief were good friends.  One of the older guys had told Brett that Gage and DeSoto had been partners out of 51’s for eleven years – longer than any other paramedic partnership had lasted thus far in the department.

 

“I’ll wait in Captain DeSoto’s office, Brett. Go ahead and get back to your meet--”

 

Before Johnny could finish his sentence, Roy poked his head out of the kitchen doorway.

 

“Who’s our visitor, Bre--”

 

Roy smiled when he caught sight of Johnny.  “What’s the matter?  Didn’t Joanne feed you enough last night?  If you’re here to bum a free lunch, we finished eating an hour ago.”

 

Johnny smiled in return, only because he knew Roy would wonder why he didn’t. Brett slipped by Roy and returned to the kitchen so his superiors could talk in private. 

 

“Yep, Joanne fed me enough, and nope, I’m not here to bum lunch.  Listen, Brett told me you’re having a meeting, so I’ll wait in your office until you’re done.”

 

“It might be a while.”

 

“That’s okay.  The only thing I have to do this afternoon is grade test papers, so--”

 

One of Roy’s men peered out of the kitchen.  “Hey, Johnny, do ya’ miss ridin’ with our captain so much that you’re here to sign onto our crew?”

 

“Hi, Tom.  And no, I don’t miss your captain that much.”

 

“That’s good, ‘cause he probably won’t let you drive this time around either.”

 

“Probably not,” Johnny responded to the joke that he’d started years ago, when so often relegated to the role of Roy’s navigator.

 

Another man came to the doorway. “Good to see ya’, Johnny.  You gonna join us for bowling next Tuesday night?”

 

“I plan to.”

 

“Dwyer says he’s gonna win that ten bucks back from you he lost two weeks ago.”

 

“Mac, Dwyer’s been tryin’ to win that ten bucks back from me since 1974.”

 

Donald McWinters laughed before returning to the kitchen with Tom Weiss.  “Catch ya’ later, Johnny.”

 

“Yeah, see ya’ next week.”

 

Roy cocked an eyebrow at his friend. “Now that you’ve disrupted my entire crew, at least come in and get a cup of coffee. You’re welcome to sit with us, as long as you keep your smart comments to yourself.”

 

Johnny shook his head without smiling at his friend’s teasing barb. “Nah, that’s all right. I’ll be in your office when you’re finished.”

 

Roy watched Johnny turn around and enter his office.  A slight frown tugged at the corners of the captain’s mouth. It wasn’t like Johnny to choose isolation over an invitation to join a group.

 

Roy stood there a moment longer, then shrugged.  He reentered the kitchen, and soon forgot what he perceived to be Johnny’s odd behavior, as he continued the meeting with his crew.

 

 

__________________

 

 

Johnny stood with his hands in the back pockets of his uniform trousers. While he waited for Roy’s meeting to end, the paramedic chief studied the photos encased in matching oak frames that Roy had on a shelf. 

 

The first picture Johnny’s eyes traveled to was of Roy and himself, taken as they stood next to Squad 51. Johnny couldn’t remember if the year had been 1975 or 1976.  He was grinning, and had an arm bent at the elbow and propped on Roy’s shoulder, while Roy leaned back against the squad with a smile. Johnny knew there were other pictures of them, better pictures, taken together in their dress uniforms, so why Roy chose this one to display Johnny couldn’t guess.  Maybe it reminded Roy of the same thing it reminded Johnny of – a special time, and a special friendship.  A time that you only realize passed far too quickly after it’s over and you can’t recapture it. 

 

Johnny moved two steps to his left. Chris’s high school graduation picture, and school pictures of Jennifer and John from the current year were grouped together.  Next stood a picture of Joanne and Roy seated at a round table, and taken by the photographer at Chet’s wedding.  After that, came the family picture of Roy, Joanne, and the kids taken sometime prior to Christmas.  Johnny recognized it as the same photo Joanne had enclosed in the Christmas card she’d mailed to him. 

 

Johnny smiled at the uncomfortable look on Roy’s face, as though the tie he was wearing was knotted too tightly. Or as though he was too used to wearing his open collared uniform shirts, and had no idea how to hold his head when he had a tie around his neck. You’d have to know Roy as well as Johnny did to pick up on that nuance of the photo, because Roy was smiling and had his hands resting on Joanne’s shoulders. As was typical for Roy, he didn’t broadcast his discomfort.  Roy rarely made a fuss about anything, so when he did get angry, you stood up and took notice.  Johnny had learned that long ago, and based on Chris’s request of him, the paramedic knew Roy’s kids had learned it as well.

 

Johnny focused on the photo again. Joanne and Jennifer were seated in chairs angled toward one another, their knees slightly touching.  John stood next to Joanne, leaning against his mother’s thigh and grinning as though being dressed up for the camera - and even wearing a navy blue tie – was the best thing anyone could have asked him to do that day.

 

Chris stood beside Roy looking so much like his father, that Johnny smiled again while shaking his head.  It seemed like just yesterday that Chris was John’s age, and Johnny himself wasn’t much older than Chris was now.  But that particular yesterday was long in the past, and Chris was a grown man on the verge of joining the fire department. 

 

Johnny felt a surge of pride that surprised him, and made him realize what a father feels like when he knows he’s done a good job of raising his son.  Not that Johnny had anything to do with raising Chris, but he was close to Chris in the way an uncle or much older brother would be.  He wanted to see good things come Chris’s way, and despite Roy’s desire for Chris to complete college, Johnny felt Chris was making the right decision for himself. Now all that was left was to figure out how to tell Roy that.

 

“What? You don’t see enough of the DeSotos as it is?”

 

Johnny turned as Roy entered the room.  The captain carried a clipboard and a pen.

 

“Is this a closed door meeting?” Roy asked.

 

When Johnny gave a tight nod, surprise crossed Roy’s features. His question had been in jest.  There had never been a time when Johnny had asked that the door to Roy’s office be closed when he’d stopped by the station to shoot the breeze. Which lead Roy to conclude that Johnny had more on his mind than just killing time before going home to grade papers.

 

Roy closed the door and gestured to a chair across from his desk.

 

“Have a seat.”

 

The captain laid the clipboard on his desk. It held notes from his meeting that he’d type up later, photocopy, and circulate amongst his crew. Without looking, Roy slipped his pen into the left breast pocket of his shirt, and then sat down.  The last time Roy could recall sitting across from Johnny like this was the day in 1971, when Johnny had come to speak to him about the fledging paramedic program.

 

In an attempt to lighten the tension that suddenly prevailed, Roy folded his hands, rested them on his desktop, and gave his friend a solicitous smile.

 

“You’re a little old to join the fire department, aren’t you, son?  To be honest, a guy your age has to consider that his back and knees aren’t what they used to be.”

 

Roy’s words got the desired effect. Johnny’s smile was followed by a chuckle. 

 

“Don’t you worry about my back and knees, Pally.  They’re holding up just fine.”

 

“Just wait until you’re forty-one.”

 

“Is that some kinda prediction?”

 

“Based on how my back and knees feel on some mornings, yeah it is.  I think they’re telling me we climbed too many flights of stairs in our day while wearing full turnout gear, and ran from a few too many burning buildings.”

 

“We sure did enough of those things,” Johnny agreed. “Guess that means I’d better get all the use out of my back and knees I can before I hit forty.”

 

“That’s what it means.”

 

Roy watched as Johnny’s eyes flicked to the pictures on the shelf.  The captain couldn’t quite identify his friend’s mood. It was unusual for Roy to see Johnny unsure of himself, or downright nervous, but he appeared to be a both.

 

“Johnny?”

 

Johnny returned his attention to Roy.  He pursed his lips a brief second, then decided there was no use in being evasive, or in drawing this out any longer.

 

The paramedic instructor reached into a pocket of his uniform shirt.  He pulled out a folded envelope and handed it across the desk to Roy.

 

“Here. I picked this up at headquarters for you.”

 

Roy didn’t question Johnny’s action.  The paramedic chief had an office at fire department headquarters, so it wasn’t odd that Johnny might courier something to Roy if he planned on stopping by Station 26.

 

Roy opened the envelope. He took out the paper that was enclosed.  He unfolded it, read the opening paragraph from the chief of the department, and then nodded.

 

“The list of incoming rookies.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Roy laid the paper aside without looking beyond the first name listed.

 

“Uh...I think you’d better read that.”

 

“Why?”

 

“I just think you’d better.”

 

Roy shot his friend a puzzled look before picking the paper back up.  Since the names were in alphabetical order, it didn’t take him long to reach, DeSoto, Christopher R. 

 

Roy stared at the name. He took three deep breaths, then looked at Johnny.

 

“You knew.” It wasn’t a question, and it was repeated. “You knew about this.”

 

“Yeah...yeah, I did.”

 

“How long?”

 

“How long have I known?”

 

“Yes, damn it.  How long have you known, Johnny?”

 

“I’ve known Chris had an interest in joining the fire department...in becoming a paramedic, since he was a junior in high school.  I’ve known that he took the entry exam since November.  He told me on that Sunday Joanne had your birthday dinner.”

 

“I see. When Chris claimed his car was making a noise that I couldn’t hear, and he took you for a ride with him because he wanted you to listen for it.”

 

“Yeah, that’s when.”

 

“And why didn’t you tell me?”

 

“Because I promised Chris I wouldn’t.”

 

“Since when does your loyalty to Chris outweigh your loyalty to me?”

 

“It doesn’t, Roy.”

 

“It looks that way to me.”

 

“I know it does, but...”

 

Roy slammed a fist on his desk. “There’re no buts, Johnny!  I want him to finish college.”

 

Contrary to what usually happened when someone raised his voice at Johnny – he raised his voice in return – the man remained calm. 

 

“I know that, Roy.  And I wish for your sake that Chris would do that. I really do. But it’s not what he wants.  He doesn’t wanna finish college.”

 

“And you told him that was okay.”

 

“No, I didn’t.  I’ve asked him to talk to you about this, and he’s told me he’s tried to, but--”

 

“But nothing.  He’s living under my roof and he’ll do what I say.”

 

“Roy, he’s nineteen.  You can’t--”

 

“Oh yes I can. If he goes through with this...if Chris joins the department, he’ll have to find some place else to live.”

 

Johnny sat forward in his chair. “Roy, listen to me. If you don’t respect Chris’s decision...if you don’t accept that he’s a grown man and wants begin a job he thinks he’ll love doing, then you run the risk of losing him.  You run the risk of damaging what the two of you have as father and son.  I’ve watched you raise him, Roy.  I know what kind of a dad you are.  And because of that, I also know that you don’t wanna have a permanent break in your relationship with Chris. You’re too good of a father...you love your kids to much, to allow that to happen.”

 

“Don’t tell me what I have to respect...or accept, when it comes to my son. You don’t know the first thing about raising kids.”

 

Though Johnny knew Roy’s words came from anger, they still hurt. They reminded Johnny of Jessie, and how he’d never gotten the chance to raise her.  Roy’s words also negated all that Johnny had been to the DeSoto children, from favorite uncle, to mentor, to confidante, to trusted friend. Things that up until now, Johnny knew Roy had appreciated.

 

The paramedic chief hid the pain Roy’s words evoked. 

 

“I’m not trying to tell you anything, other than the facts.  Chris has joined the fire department and will be in my class next month. He dropped out of school this morning. You can blame me for all of that if you want to, because it won’t change the facts.”

 

Roy’s anger was always at its worse when his voice didn’t get louder, but instead, sounded more gravelly than usual - as it did now.

 

“And just what are the facts?”

 

“The facts are, that I’ve tried to talk Chris out of this, but at the same time I’ve always respected that he has to do what he thinks is right for himself.”

 

“He’s nineteen years old, Johnny! He doesn’t know what’s right for himself.”

 

“Oh no?  Well, you were married at nineteen and joined the Army. How would you have liked it if someone had said you didn’t know what was right for you?”

 

“Maybe I woulda’ been smart and listened. Maybe I woulda’ gone on to college after I got out of the service.  Maybe Joanne and I would have put off having kids for a few years so I could have gotten a degree and landed a good job.  Maybe--”

 

“Yeah, Roy. Maybe.  There isn’t a one of us who can’t go back to when we were nineteen and say “maybe this,” “maybe that,” or “if only I’d done that instead of this.”  As much as you want that to be different for Chris...for all of your kids, it’s not gonna happen.  Like all kids Chris’s age, he’ll make decisions his father doesn’t always agree with.  Some of those decisions will prove to be good ones, and some will prove to be bad. But that’s just the way it is.  It’s the only way Chris is gonna learn what’s right for him and what’s not.”

 

“I already know what’s right for him.”

 

“Roy, listen to yourself.  You’re being ridiculous.”

 

“Don’t tell me what I’m being and what I’m not being.  Despite what you and Chris might think, you are not his father.”

 

“I realize that.”

 

“Well you sure as hell aren’t acting like it.  And I don’t want him in your damn class, either. I don’t want him learning to hotdog like you used to.  I don’t want to visit my son in the hospital because he’s picked up your bad habits.”

 

This time the hurt did flick across Johnny’s face, but he quickly schooled his features into a neutral mask and stood.

 

“If you kick Chris out, tell him to call me if he needs a place to stay. But if you want my advice, Roy--”

 

“I don’t.”

 

“Well, tough shit, ‘cause you’re gonna get it anyway.  Instead of ‘talking’ to your son about this tomorrow morning, listen to him for a change.  It might save you a lotta grief in the long run.  You said I don’t know anything about raising kids, and you’re right, I don’t.  I never got the chance to raise my daughter. And if you think for one goddamn minute that doesn’t hurt me every single day of my life, then you’re wrong.  For your sake, don’t screw this up.  Don’t flush your relationship with your son down the toilet just because you want him to live out the dream you had for yourself.  Take it from a guy who knows, Roy.  It’s hell when you can’t hug your child anymore. It’s absolute hell.”

 

     Johnny turned on his heel and left the room. He didn’t look back as he opened the door, nor as he closed it behind him.

 

     Long after Johnny had departed Station 26, Roy remained seated at his desk. It was daunting to try and sort all of this out – Chris going behind Roy’s back and joining the department, Johnny’s knowledge of it, and ultimately the words Roy had exchanged with Johnny. Just the previous evening Roy had been so happy to see Chris studying, and now he felt like the rug had been pulled out from underneath his feet.  Had it all been a deception on the parts of Chris and his co-conspirator, John Gage, or was Johnny right?  Somewhere along the line...somewhere since Chris was a junior in high school, had Roy stopped listening to him, or stopped being willing to hear what Chris was saying when they talked about his future?

 

     The captain kneaded the bridge of his nose and gave a heavy sigh.  He reached for the phone, not sure whom he was calling -  Joanne?  Chris?  Johnny? – when the klaxons sounded.  Roy heard the station being summoned to a structure fire.  He pushed away from his desk and ran from his office.  For now, duty overrode family concerns...which was one reason why Captain Roy DeSoto didn’t want his son to join the fire department.    

 

 

Chapter 6

 

 

Heather Langford exited the flap known as the ‘back door’ fifteen minutes before Friday evening’s last performance under the Big Top ended.  Usually she stayed to watch her father and the other clowns close the show, but tonight she followed Jack Benton as he stomped toward the elephant domain. 

 

Heather glanced left. Her mother was still working. Lynette was helping Marie Russell scoop popcorn into boxes for the last round of sales that would come when the show let out. 

 

The twelve-year-old avoided the glare of the overhead lights, so neither her mother nor Jack Benton would spot her.  Her eyes flicked to the left and right when she came to an open area devoid of tents, booths, and trailers.  As Mr. Benton approached Bhagi, Heather dashed for the Indian’s home.  She scurried behind his trailer, and then slid along its smooth side to the end. She peered around the corner.  It was dark, and there were no floodlights on this side of the trailer, which made it easy for Heather to hide from the men.

 

Rather than swaying back and forth in their ankle chains like the elephants normally did, they stood straight and tense, as though they sensed something unpleasant was about to transpire.

 

Jack Benton ran the last few feet to Bhagi. Before the man could begin feeding his animals, Mr. Benton said, “Bhagi, I wanna talk to you.”

 

Bhagi turned to face his boss.  He planted his knuckles on his hips and leaned back on his heels. 

 

“So talk.”

 

“What was that about in the ring?”

“What?”

 

“You know what.  The elephant that wouldn’t do anything.  She just stood there trumpeting and looking around. She pulled the same baloney at the first performance, too.”

 

Bhagi shrugged. He was still wearing the white pantaloons he performed in, and the vest brocaded in gold and red.  He was shirtless, and though a small man, the muscles in his shoulders and upper arms were pronounced from the physical labor caring for the elephants required.

 

“Don’t shrug.” Like Bhagi, Jack Benton was still in his costume.  He was the ringmaster, and wore a black top hat and black tuxedo with tails. “I want an answer.”

 

“I have no answer for you. She is in a bad mood.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Who knows?  Sometimes elephants are like a woman.  They need a good beating to make them behave.”

 

Heather watched as Mr. Benton chewed on his lower lip. She knew he didn’t condone abuse of the animals used in his circus, but she also knew he’d pretend not to see what was evident, in an attempt to live up to the motto, “the show must go on.”

 

Heather wanted to yell, “You do too know, Bhagi!  You know why Samara won’t perform.  It’s your fault.  It’s your fault for gambling, and then selling Sakari to pay off what you owed people.  It’s not Samara’s fault, it’s yours!”

 

The girl dug her fingernails into her palms as she fought to remain silent. If the men saw Heather, they’d send her away, and Mr. Benton might tell her father he’d caught her eavesdropping.  Though Pat Langford wasn’t often strict with his children, Heather knew there were certain areas where he tolerated no disobedience. His children sticking their nose into circus business was one of those areas. Heather had already been told to stay away from Bhagi.  Now here she was spying on him and Mr. Benton.  If her dad found out, Heather would likely be grounded the next time her family made a trip to town, and have to remain by herself in the trailer.  To a circus kid, that was the ultimate punishment – being confined to the small trailer you already spent more time in than you wanted to.

 

Heather’s concern for Samara overrode any concern she had for herself.  She listened as Jack Benton said, “Whatever the problem is, you get it resolved by tomorrow afternoon’s performance.  I can’t afford to feed an animal that won’t work.  If she doesn’t do what she’s supposed to, then she’ll be the next elephant sold.  And if that happens, I just might have to start looking for a new elephant trainer. One who knows how to do his job...and one who doesn’t spend his free time drowning his sorrows in a bottle.  Do you understand me?”

 

Bhagi’s jaw clenched. He didn’t answer Mr. Benton, and for a few seconds Heather thought Bhagi might punch the man. 

 

“Bhagi, do you understand?”

 

Bhagi turned his head and spit into the dirt. That action was the only form of contempt he openly displayed. He wiped his mouth, and then faced Mr. Benton once again. 

 

“I understand.”

 

“Good. Then I expect you to make certain she’s ready for tomorrow afternoon’s performance.”

 

“She be ready.”

 

“She’d better be,” was the last thing Mr. Benton said on the subject before swiveling on one heel of his gleaming black dress shoe and walking away.

 

Bhagi’s eyes narrowed as he tracked the man’s movements toward the front gate. Benton would stand there and thank people for coming to the show until the last patron exited. 

 

The Indian turned and marched to his trailer.  Heather ducked behind the structure. She dropped to her stomach and slithered beneath it. She heard the door open, then a faint glow of light arced across the ground in front of her.  Heavy footsteps sounded from above Heather’s head. When the door slammed, Heather slid forward.  Though her view of the world was sideways, she could see Bhagi stomping toward Samara with a thick club in his hand.  The elephant jerked on her chains and screamed as her trainer approached.  Heather squeezed her eyes shut as the first ‘Whap!’ of the club sounded against Samara’s side.

 

The elephant fought to get away, but the thick chains held her in place.  She screamed again, and her companions trumpeted their distress over her pain. 

 

 Heather didn’t know how long Samara’s beating went on until she could no longer stand it.  She couldn’t be Samara’s friend and allow this to continue. She scooted out from beneath the trailer, scrambled to her feet, and dashed across the dirt.  As Bhagi’s right hand rose again, Heather grabbed his elbow and yanked backwards. 

 

“Bhagi, stop!  Stop it! Leave her alone!”

 

The Indian whirled around and pushed Heather aside.

 

“Go away, girl!”

 

“No!” Heather regained her footing and scrambled for the man again.  “Stop! Leave Samara alone!”

 

The girl snared Bhagi’s wrist and wrestled for possession of the club, but she was no match for the Indian’s strength.  Sweat ran down his chest, and he panted like an enraged animal as he swung the club up. Heather knew he was going to hit her with it. She turned to run as Bhagi grabbed her arm.  Heather twisted and fought to gain her freedom, but couldn’t wrench herself free.  Tears ran down her face as she gave hysterical gasps for air.  Just when Heather was sure the club would smash her skull, Bhagi’s hand was torn from her arm.

 

“Bhagi, enough!” Kristof’s voice sounded.

 

Bhagi grappled with the lion trainer.  “The girl...I told her to stay away!  She has no business here!  I teach her the lesson she needs, stupid girl!”

 

     Kristof looked over the struggling Bhagi’s shoulder as Rurik ran to help him restrain the Indian.

 

     “Heather, you go on now,” Kristof ordered.  “Get out of here!”

 

     Despite her loyalty to Samara, Heather didn’t argue. She knew the show would be getting out in a few minutes, and that the last thing Kristof wanted was for any patrons to witness what was going on.   Not only would Bhagi be in big trouble with Jack Benton, so would Heather. 

 

     With one last look at Samara, Heather ran toward her home.  Bhagi hadn’t been lying to Heather when he’d told her that elephants cry real tears.  Heather had always thought Bhagi had made that up, but tonight she saw he hadn’t.  Tears ran from Sarmara’s eyes as sobs racked her huge body.

 

     Heather cried harder as she stumbled for the Airstream.  Tears blinded her, but she couldn’t stop their flow.  The trailer was empty when she arrived, and by the time her family came in thirty-minutes later, Heather had climbed in her bunk and cried herself to sleep. 

 

__________________

 

 

     When Heather awoke, her eyes were puffy and her lashes stuck together for a moment.  At first, Heather couldn’t remember why she’d gone to bed so upset, but a mournful, weak trumpet brought it all back to her.  She sat up in her bunk, hunching forward so she wouldn’t hit her head on the ceiling. The trailer was dark, and she could barely make out the form of Jay sleeping on the pullout couch. 

 

     Heather reached for the shelf above her bed and found her flashlight.  She’d bumped her knees so many times on Jay’s bed while making a nighttime trip to the bathroom; that the flashlight had been in her Christmas stocking two year earlier. 

 

     The girl slid off her bed and eased herself to the floor.  She was still dressed in her blue jeans and white Benton Brothers Circus t-shirt, and was still wearing her tennis shoes.  After two back-to-back evening performances the whole family was tired, so Heather knew her parents wouldn’t have found it odd that she had fallen asleep before changing into her pajamas.  And there would have been no need to wake her up for supper, because they always ate before the first show started.

 

     Heather flicked the flashlight on, but kept the beam pointed toward the floor. She slipped by Jay’s bed without waking him, and briefly shined the light in front of her.  Her parents’ door was slid shut, and all was quiet behind it.  She pointed the light at the VCR clock next. It was ten minutes after three in the morning.

 

     Heather held her breath as she opened the door.  The hinges squeaked when the door reached a certain point, and the girl wasn’t sure exactly where that point was.  She opened the door only far enough to squeeze through.  When no squeak sounded, Heather gave a quiet sigh of relief.  She opened the screen door, stepped onto the first step, and eased the wooden door shut.  She then guided the screen door closed so it wouldn’t bang. She didn’t bother to use the second step, but instead, jumped to the dirt. 

 

     The grounds were dark except for the interspersed floodlights.  By this hour, even the men who stayed up late drinking and playing cards were in bed.  An overhead light cast shadows across the elephants.  Chanda, Kamala, and Madri were sleeping, but Samara’s eyes were open.

 

     Heather felt no fear as she ran to the seven thousand pound beast. She encircled Samara’s trunk with one hand, and placed the other against the elephant’s neck.  She hugged Samara, and Samara hugged Heather back by gently wrapping her trunk around Heather’s waist.

 

     The girl couldn’t keep her tears from starting again.  She pressed her face into Samara’s massive side and whispered, “Oh, Sarmara, I’m sorry Bhagi keeps hurting you.  I wish I could help you.  I wish I knew what I could do to help you.”

 

     The elephant seemed to take comfort in the young girl.  The friends stood together hugging, and with Heather murmuring words of comfort, until dawn broke and the girl had no choice but to return home.

 

     Heather slipped into the trailer as quietly as she’d exited it.  She climbed in her bunk and returned the flashlight to the shelf. She lay on her back and stared at the ceiling just two feet above her nose. For the first time in her life, Heather knew what it felt like to be helpless and scared.  She didn’t like those emotions, and realized that’s how poor Samara felt every day of her life. 

 

     The girl wiped at her tears.  She wanted to help Samara, but she didn’t know how.  It made her feel like a rotten person, but even worse, it made Heather feel like a rotten friend.

 

    

Chapter 7

 

     John Gage parked his Land Rover against the curb and shut the engine off.  He was directly in front of the main entrance doors of Spring Meadow Elementary School. Three other vehicles were parked along the curb with occupants sitting behind the steering wheels, and four women stood together on the sidewalk.  Johnny glanced at his watch.  The morning kindergarten session was due to let out in twelve minutes. Two yellow buses were parked in the school’s lot, waiting to be filled with the young students who didn’t live close enough to walk home, or who didn’t have parents waiting for them in vehicles. 

 

     Johnny rolled the driver’s side window all the way down, propped his left arm on its frame, and released his seat belt. He turned his body so it was angled to the right.  He kept his eyes on the front doors, so he’d be sure to spot John as the boy came out of school.

 

     The paramedic chief ignored the rumblings of his stomach. He’d left Rampart at ten minutes after eleven, and hadn’t taken the time to grab a sandwich in the cafeteria.  Johnny knew John wouldn’t have eaten lunch yet, so planned to stop at a McDonald’s and get something for both John and himself before heading to his ranch.  While he waited for the child, Johnny thought back to his conversation with Chris the prior evening.  Like Chris had promised, he picked up the phone when Johnny called at nine-fifteen. Since Chris answered on the first ring, Johnny was certain the young man had picked up the extension in his bedroom and probably had the door closed.  As soon as Chris was assured it was Johnny on the other end, he’d asked without preamble, “How did it go?”

 

     “Like I expected it would.”

 

     “What’s that mean?”

 

     “It means I’ll be lucky if your dad’s talking to me by the time John’s graduates from high school.”

 

     “He was that mad, huh?”

 

     “Chris, let’s put it this way. He wasn’t happy.  Not with you, and most especially, not with me.”

 

     “But none of this is your fault.”

 

     “I know.  And in time, I hope your father realizes that.”

 

     “I’ll make him realize that.”

 

     “I’d appreciate it if you could, but we’ll just have to see.”

 

     “What else did he say?”

 

     “The same stuff he always says. That he wants you to finish college.”

 

     “All right.”

 

     “Meaning?”

 

     There had been a hesitation on Chris’s part, before he said, “Well...meaning I know what I’m up against.  The same thing I’ve been up against since I was a junior in high school and first told Dad I was interested in becoming a paramedic.”

 

     “That’s about the size of it.”    

 

      “Mom hasn’t said anything.”

 

     “Huh?”

 

     “Dad musta’ called around seven-thirty.  He always does.”

 

     Johnny had known what Chris meant without having to ask further questions.  For as long as Johnny had worked with Roy DeSoto, Roy had always called home at seven-thirty each night when he was on-duty.  When Chris and Jennifer were young, it gave him the opportunity to talk to them before they went to bed.  It was a habit he’d continued after John had been born. 

 

     “So your mom hasn’t said anything at all?”

 

     “No. Which means one of two things. Either Dad didn’t say anything to her about your visit to the station, or she’s trying not to take sides between Dad and me.  I got home about thirty minutes ago, and she’s been fine.  You know, not acting upset with me or anything like that.”

 

     “Oh. Well, he might not have told her yet, or she might be thinking this through before she reacts. Your mom is pretty good that way.”

 

     “Yeah, I know.”

 

     “Listen, Chris, if things get real bad between you and Ro...your dad, and you need a place to stay for a while, you can come to my house.”

 

     “Thanks, but I don’t think...well, I don’t think that would be such a good idea.  It would only make things worse between you and dad.  I’ve got a couple of friends who share an apartment.  I know I could stay there until I figure out what to do.”

 

     “What I want you to do is stay in your father’s home. But if that’s not workable, remember that my offer stands.  I don’t want you worryin’ about how you’re gonna keep a roof over your head while you’re in training.”

 

     “Yeah, but living at my instructor’s house probably won’t look too good, will it?”

 

     “No, but we’ll keep it quiet if it comes to that.  Besides, it would only be for a few weeks at the most.  I’m sure once your dad has a chance to calm down and accept all of this, things will be fine.”

 

     “I hope you’re right.”

 

     “I know I’m right,” Johnny assured with more confidence than he was feeling.

 

     The pair had said goodbye then, and Johnny had gone to bed hoping Roy didn’t do something as foolish as kicking Chris out of the house, like he had threatened.  Johnny was fairly certain those words had little truth behind them, and that Roy really wouldn’t follow through on them, but he also knew from experience how volatile things could get between a nineteen-year-old and his father.

 

     Johnny jumped when a warm hand on his elbow startled him from his musings. He turned at the familiar voice.

 

     “Fancy meeting you here, Mr. Gage.”

 

     “Joanne!”

 

     Johnny opened the door and stepped out. He shut the door behind him so they didn’t have to hear the annoying ‘ding ding ding’ that indicated his keys were still in the ignition.

 

     Johnny studied the woman’s face a moment. Though his scrutiny didn’t give him a lot of clues, one thing he did determine was that Joanne wasn’t angry with him.

 

     “So...uh...I suppose Roy isn’t gonna let me take John for the weekend, huh?”

     “Though your name was mentioned quite loudly several times around our house this morning, he didn’t say anything about your plans with John one way or another.” Joanne lifted her left hand while giving Johnny a wink. “Seems I forgot to send John’s overnight bag with him this morning. You know how it is when you’re rushing around trying to get a kindergartner and a high schooler out of the house on time.”

 

     Johnny smiled as he accepted the G.I. Joe backpack. He lifted it through the open driver’s window and placed it on his seat for the time being.  The wink told him that Joanne had wanted to talk to him privately, and the ‘forgotten’ backpack was the excuse she’d used to get out of the house and meet him here.

 

     Johnny turned to face the woman again. “How...how did things go?”

 

     “Rough, Johnny. Rough.  Roy told me what was going on when he phoned last night from the station, but to say any of it surprised me...well, it didn’t. Certainly not as much as it surprised Roy, anyway.”

 

     “Whatta ya’ mean by that?”

 

     “I mean I’m well aware that Chris has been trying to tell his father for two years that he has no interest in attending college, and wants to join the fire department.  I’ve tried to tell Roy that he needs to listen to what Chris has to say, but he’d have no part of it. He felt that he knew what was best for Chris where a career was concerned.”

 

     “Jo, I hope you know that I didn’t encourage Chris to drop out of school and join the department.  He made that decision without consulting me.”

 

     “I know.”

 

     “And I did talk him into giving college a try. I wanted him to make this work for Roy’s sake.”

 

     “That’s just it though, Johnny. Chris can’t make it work for Roy’s sake. Chris has to make it work for his sake.”

 

     “I realize that.  I’ve realized it for a long time.”

 

     “Then you’re several steps ahead of Roy in that area.”

     “That’s just because I’m not Chris’s dad.  Hell, Jo, I don’t blame Roy for wanting the best for Chris.  For wanting Chris to get a college education and do something that doesn’t involve running into burning buildings.  If I had a son, I’m sure I’d want the same thing for him that Roy wants for Chris.”

 

     “You probably would, because in the end, all Roy wants is for Chris to have a job that doesn’t carry with it high risk factors, and offers a high salary range to boot.”

 

     “So what conclusion did they come to this morning?”

 

     “You mean after the yelling was over?”

     “Yeah.”

 

     “That Chris will go ahead with his plans to join the fire department and become a paramedic.”

 

     “I take it that was Chris’s decision, and that Roy still doesn’t agree with it.”

 

     “You take it right.”  

 

     “Roy didn’t kick him out of the house, did he?”

     “No. Why? Did he say he was going to?”

     “He mentioned something about it to me. I told Chris on the phone last night that if that happened, he could stay at my place until Roy cooled down.”

 

     “Well, Roy didn’t kick Chris out, and I wouldn’t have let him anyway.  Roy would have been the one sleeping in your spare room if he’d tried to kick our son out of the house, not Chris.”

 

     Johnny smiled. “You really know how to keep your old man in line, don’t you.”

 

     “You bet I do.”

 

     Johnny reached for the woman and pulled her to his chest. “Thanks, Jo.  I...God knows the last thing I want is for this choice of Chris’s to come between me and Roy. To ruin our friendship.  But...”

 

     “But you were put in the middle the day Chris confided in you.”

 

     Johnny released Joanne and stepped back.  “Yeah, that’s about the size of it.”

 

     “I understand, Johnny, and given time, Roy will, too.”

 

     “Are you okay with Chris’s decision?”

 

     “I’m okay with it,” the woman nodded. “Do I wish Chris wanted to do anything but join the fire department? In some ways, the answer to that question is yes.  The job is a dangerous one, and I don’t relish losing sleep worrying about both my husband and my son.  But do I realize that I’m lucky to have a kid who is as ambitious and smart as Chris is?  Yes, I do.  I know Chris will succeed at anything he puts his mind to.  And I also know that nineteen is young.  Just because he’s joining the fire department, doesn’t mean that someday he may not choose to return to college and pursue another career.”

 

     “That’s true,” Johnny agreed. He’d known a guy from Station 8 who had taken classes on his days off and eventually graduated from law school.  And he’d heard of several guys who had gone to college after retiring from the department and now, during mid-life, were succeeding in entirely new careers.

 

     Johnny shifted the subject as the kindergartners were led out of the front doors by two aids. 

 

     “I’m sorry all of this crap came along and ruined the day alone you and Roy had planned.”

 

     Joanne waggled her eyebrows. “Don’t worry, I’m not allowing it to ruin our day. Chris left for work thirty minutes ago, and Roy is in the garage trying to let off some steam by building god knows what.  I’ll take him out for lunch and see if I can get him to talk about this with me, then we’ll go back home and...talk some more.”

 

     Johnny laughed. “I just bet you will.”

 

     The adults looked up as John ran toward them.  He had his transformer backpack over his shoulders and was carrying his denim jacket.

 

     “Mom, you’re not supposed to be here!  I’m goin’ with Uncle Johnny today.”

 

     “I know, I know,” Joanne assured the boy, whose face reflected fear and disappointment that his plans with John Gage had been canceled for some reason. “I forgot to send your overnight bag with you this morning.  I came to bring it to Uncle Johnny.”

 

     “Oh. Okay. Well, bye!”

 

     Before John could open the driver’s door and climb in the Land Rover, Joanne grabbed him and gave him a kiss.

 

     “Be good for Uncle Johnny.”

 

     “Mom, you already told me that about a hundred times.”

 

     “Now I’m telling you a hundred and one. Be good.”

 

     “I will be.”

 

     Joanne released her son and allowed him to scramble into the vehicle. John threw his G.I. Joe backpack into the rear seat, then shrugged out of his school backpack. He tossed that into the rear seat along with his jacket, before climbing over the center console and settling into the passenger seat. He fastened his seatbelt, leaned back, looked at Johnny, grinned, and announced, “I’m ready!”

 

     Johnny flicked a thumb at John while looking at Joanne. “He’s ready.”

 

     “Heaven forbid you don’t hop to it when little Prince John has spoken.”

 

     Johnny didn’t see Joanne’s car anywhere. “Did you walk here?”

 

     “Yes.”

 

     The man reached for the handle on the rear door. “Climb in then. I’ll swing by the house and drop you off.”

     Joanne shook her head. “I think it’s best if you don’t today.”

 

     “Oh...oh, okay. Yeah, yeah sure,” Johnny agreed, though he wasn’t able to ignore the stab of hurt the woman’s words brought forth.  He didn’t want this situation with Chris coming between Roy and him, but it already was.

 

     “It’ll be all right, Johnny, I promise.  Just give Roy a few days to come to terms with all of this.”

 

     “Okay.”

 

     “I’ll see you tomorrow night about six-thirty?”

 

     “Yeah,” Johnny acknowledged of the approximate time he’d return John home. “See ya’ then.”

 

     The paramedic chief paused in the act of climbing into his vehicle.

 

     “Jo?”

 

     “Yes?”

 

     “Tell Roy...well tell Roy that I said I’m sorry. I wish...I wish this thing with Chris could have worked out the way he wanted it to.”

 

     “I don’t need to tell Roy that, because you’ll get the chance to tell him that yourself.”

 

     Johnny smiled his appreciation at the woman.  She was attempting to assure him that his and Roy’s friendship did have a future.

 

     “Okay. I’ll take your word on it.”

 

     “You’d better.  And if my word proves to be wrong, I’ll invite you for dinner next weekend, then leave you two alone in the living room to hash it out.”

 

     “That’s what I admire about you, Mrs. DeSoto,” Johnny grinned. “You’ve always got a trick up your sleeve.”

 

     “Or two. Or three. Or four,” the woman confessed with a laugh.  She stood back and allowed Johnny to get in his Land Rover, then bent forward and waved to her son. “Bye, sweetheart!”

 

     “Bye, Mom!”

 

     Johnny started the vehicle, checked for traffic, waited for Joanne to step onto the sidewalk, and then pulled away from the curb.  While Johnny headed for the McDonald’s that was a few blocks north of the school, Joanne headed in the opposite direction that led to her home.

 

 

__________________

 

    

     Roy was standing in front of his tool bench with his back to the open garage door.  He had a Tonka bulldozer upside down in his vice.  The thin metal rod that served as the vehicle’s front axel had snapped in half several months earlier.  Considering that Roy claimed John owned more Tonka trucks than any boy needed, and that Roy was tired of tripping over, then the fact that he was fixing the bulldozer indicated to Joanne her husband was desperate to occupy his mind with any concern other than Chris.

 

     Roy didn’t turn around when he said, “So, did you have a nice long talk with Johnny?”

 

     Joanne refused to rise to the bait.  “I talked to Johnny, if that’s what you’re asking.”

 

     “I figured as much. In all the years we’ve been raising kids, you’ve never once let any of them head to school without what they needed for the day.”

 

     “Well, there’s always a first time for everything.”

 

     Roy’s eyes slid to his wife as she came to stand beside him.

 

     “I don’t believe that, anymore than I believe John doesn’t know how he broke the axel on this truck.”

 

     “Are you saying that I stretch the truth like your youngest son has been known to do on occasion?”

 

     “That’s what I’m saying.”

 

     Joanne shot her husband a sly smile. “Now you know where John comes by his skills.”

 

     Roy tightened his lips into a firm line in an attempt to keep from smiling back at his wife. The woman took advantage of the light moment.

 

     “Johnny wanted me to tell you that he’s sorry.”

 

     “He should be. The only reason I let John go with Johnny today, is because it’s not fair to punish John for Johnny’s screw up.”

 

     “Roy, he’s not apologizing for being the messenger, if that’s what you mean by ‘Johnny’s screw-up.’  Johnny’s extending his sympathy because he knows how much you wanted Chris to get a college degree.”

 

     “He was more than the messenger.”

 

     “What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

     Roy unplugged his soldering gun and laid it on a piece of tin to cool.  He picked up a clean rag and wiped his hands while turning to face his wife.

 

     “It means he influenced Chris.”

 

     Joanne put her hands on her hips. She gave her husband the look their children recognized as ‘Mom knows I’m offering her a line of baloney.’  “Influenced Chris how?”

 

     “I...I...he just did.”

 

     “What you were going to say is, ‘I don’t know,’ weren’t you?”

 

     “No, that wasn’t what I was going to say.  I just...look, Jo, I have a lot on my mind.”

 

     The woman caught Roy’s elbow before he could turn away from her.

 

     “Honey, I know you do.  But refusing to talk to me, and doing nothing but yelling at Chris, isn’t going to help.”

 

     Roy hesitated a long moment before raking a hand through his hair.  He sighed with frustration and sat down on an old kitchen stool he kept next to his workbench. 

 

     “It’s just that I wanted him to finish college, Jo. I wanted him to get that degree.”

 

     “I know you did, and for your sake, I’m sorry Chris has made other choices.”

 

     “For my sake? What about for yours? Do you really want your oldest son to join the fire department?”

 

     “No.  No more than I want my daughter to, or my youngest son to.  But, Roy, we have to let the kids make their own decisions where their careers are concerned, just like you had the freedom to make your own decision where your career is concerned.”

 

     “Now you sound like Johnny.”

 

     “Then maybe you should listen to both me and Johnny.”

 

     “This is the first time I’ve ever heard you encourage me to take John Gage’s advice.”

 

     Joanne chuckled. “That’s because this time he’s not advising you to go in on some outlandish business venture with him, or to bring home Mike Stoker’s spaghetti recipe.”  The woman pulled up a step stool and sat down across from her husband. “Roy, you can’t blame Johnny for this.”   

 

     “He should have told me.”

 

     “Told you what?”

 

     “That Chris wanted to join the department.”

 

     “He tried to tell you. Or at least, he tried to help Chris tell you.”

 

     Roy scowled. “When?”

 

     “You know perfectly well when.  Just a month or two after Chris started his senior year of high school.”

 

     “I don’t remember that.”

 

     “Then you’ve chosen not to, because you told both Chris and Johnny on that day that the subject of Chris becoming a paramedic was closed.”

 

     “Well, it was. And it should have stayed that way.”

 

     “You can’t keep Chris a boy forever. You’ve got to let him grow up, Roy.”

 

     “I have let him grow up.”

 

     “Part of letting Chris grow up is respecting the decisions he makes for his life.” 

 

     “But--”

 

     Joanne leaned forward and placed her hands atop Roy’s.  “Roy, in so many ways, we’re very lucky.  Chris never gave us any problems.  He’s been a good kid and has made wise choices, don’t you agree?”

 

     Roy gave a reluctant nod of his head. Unlike a lot of kids, Chris hadn’t experimented with drugs, and had waited until he was out of high school to try his first beer. Even at that, Chris hadn’t developed much of a taste for alcohol, and while a lot of his college classmates spent their weekends at parties where the booze flowed like water from an open tap, that lifestyle held no interest for Chris. 

 

     “Jo, I’m proud of Chris,” Roy said quietly. “I really am. It’s just that...I just wanted him to have an easier life than I did when I was his age.  I wanted him to take advantage of the opportunities I didn’t have.  I know Chris will do well in the department. I know he’ll make an outstanding paramedic.  It’s just that...”

 

     “You’re worried about him - about his safety.”

 

     Roy closed his eyes for a brief second and then nodded.  When he opened his eyes he said, “The job has risks. High risks.  I know that for all the dangers we face, we do generally walk away injury free. But that doesn’t take away from the fact that firefighting is a dangerous profession.  It doesn’t take away from the fact that the men doing it risk serious injury, and sometimes death.”

 

     Joanne silently acknowledged the truth to her husband’s words. Two years earlier four Los Angeles County firefighters had been killed when a burning building collapsed on them. Aside from that tragedy, Joanne recalled other times when men had died since Roy had joined the department seventeen years earlier, or when a seemingly non-eventful call took a life-threatening turn – like the time Johnny had been hit by that car after a late night summons to a bar.      

 

     “Roy, as a firefighter’s wife, believe me, I know the job has risks. But on the other hand, we put our children at risk every time we allow them to walk out of the front door. No matter what the circumstances, it’s never easy letting go, is it?”

 

     “No...no, it’s not.” Roy turned his hands so he was now encasing Joanne’s in his. He gave a gentle squeeze. “I’m gonna do my best to clear the air with Chris when he gets home tonight. I...I’m still angry...disappointed...and I suppose I will be for a while yet.  Maybe for a good long while.  But Johnny told me something that I... well, that I know I need to keep in mind.”

 

     “What was that?”

 

     “That I love Chris too much to risk a permanent break in my relationship with him. And that...and that it’s hell when you can’t hug your child any more.”

 

     Joanne spoke around the lump that suddenly took up residence in her throat for the child that had been so cruelly taken from Johnny.  “Unfortunately, Johnny is speaking from experience.”

 

     “I know.”

 

     “So, do you forgive Johnny, too?”

 

     “I’m still not happy with him.”

 

     “I realize that.”

 

     “Johnny should have told me about this when Chris confided in him a couple of months ago.”

 

     “Don’t you think Chris was wrong to do that?”

 

     “What do you mean?”

 

     “Don’t you think that one act on Chris’s part, put Johnny in the middle between you and Chris?”

 

     “I suppose, but still, Johnny should have told me.”

 

     “Roy--”

 

     “Johnny and I have been friends a long time, Jo. He should have told me.  If our positions were reversed and Chris was Johnny’s son, I would have told Johnny.”

 

     “Maybe you would have, and maybe you wouldn’t have. That’s a rather difficult prediction to make, wouldn’t you say?”

 

     “No. I know I would have told Johnny.  Johnny knew how much I didn’t want Chris joining the department.  He knew how much I wanted Chris to finish college. If I had known about all of this in November, maybe I couldn’t have talked Chris out of...”

 

     Joanne didn’t pay attention to the remainder of what Roy had to say.  Her husband had his faults, just like anyone did.  And one of those faults was that Roy could be set in his ways, and firm in his beliefs of just what he would or wouldn’t do in any given situation, regardless of whether or not that situation had ever arisen before.  She knew it was going to take Roy a while to fully forgive Johnny for what Roy saw as a betrayal of their friendship. Yet Joanne also knew that Roy eventually would forgive Johnny, and though he might never admit it, he’d also come to realize he was wrong in blaming Johnny for the decision Chris had made.

 

     The woman stood, and urged her husband to his feet as well. She gave him a little push toward the door.

 

     “Go on.”

 

     “Go on where?”

 

     “Go in the house and get cleaned up. Then I’m treating you to lunch.”

 

     “I won’t argue that. With Chris no longer in college, there’s no need to worry about budgeting for things like lunch out with my wife.”

 

     “No, there isn’t,” Joanne said, while keeping her tone light to counterbalance Roy’s forlorn one. “Now go on so we can hurry home for dessert.  And I don’t mean of the milk and cookie variety, either.”

 

     That got a small laugh out of the captain.  Roy pulled the woman into his arms and kissed her. When their lips parted, he whispered, “God, Jo, I don’t know what I’d do without you.  You get me through all of the bad times.”

 

      “Just like you get me through them,” the woman said. She rested her head on her husband’s shoulder for a minute, then once again urged him to go in the house and clean up.

 

     When Roy came out wearing a fresh shirt, Joanne was waiting for him in the passenger seat of the Porsche.

 

     Just like Joanne knew how to get Roy through the bad times, she also knew what car he liked to drive when he was feeling blue.

 

     The wind ruffled the couple’s hair as Roy drove toward the restaurant Joanne suggested.  For the next few hours, disappointments with a son, and a best friend, would be pushed to the back of Roy’s mind, in favor of spending time alone with the girl who had first caught his eye in the fourth grade.

 

Chapter 8

 

     It was ten forty-five on Saturday morning as Heather dried each dish her mother handed her. It was a tradition before a Saturday afternoon show, for the Langford family to share a large and leisurely meal at nine-thirty.  The meal had included pancakes, bacon, scrambled eggs, toast, coffee cake, and oranges, and would serve as both breakfast and lunch until they gathered together again in the evening.  Heather’s father had promised they’d go out for dinner tonight, and then go see a movie. On Sunday, the ritual of a late breakfast would repeat itself, followed by an afternoon performance, and then followed by tear-down work that would last late into the night as the circus troupe prepared to move south to San Diego.

 

     Jay had completed his chores of clearing the table and emptying the family’s garbage cans into a Dumpster. He was now seated on the couch watching cartoons.  Unlike most Saturdays while she was drying dishes, Heather paid no attention to the images flickering on the screen. Nor did the girl pay any attention to her mother’s chatter about Marie Russell’s ten-month-old twin daughters.  Heather loved babies, and had sat with the Russell twins a couple of times when Marie and her husband, Jessup, one of the tumblers, went out after a performance, but right now all she could think of was Samara. Heather worried about what would happen to the elephant if she didn’t perform this afternoon.  She didn’t care what happened to Bhagi.  She hoped Mr. Benton fired him yet, and got a new elephant trainer.  But Samara...it wasn’t fair that she was being punished for Bhagi’s actions.

 

     Had Heather’s mind not been mired with concern for her friend, she might have noticed the door slam.  And if she had, she would have known something was wrong, because her father never slammed the door. It was a rare occurrence when he wasn’t whistling as he entered the trailer, too, but this morning no off-key tune accompanied Pat Langford as he stepped into his home.

 

     “Heather.”

 

     When the girl didn’t immediately turn around, her father hailed her again in a louder and sterner voice.

 

     “Heather!”

 

     Heather placed the plate she was drying in a cabinet and turned. Her expression was open and inviting, until she got one look at her father’s face.  His expression didn’t mirror hers.  Instead, a deep scowl furrowed his brow and caused the corners of his mouth to turn downward.

 

     “Heather, Bhagi came looking for me in Clown Alley a few minutes ago.”

 

     Clown Alley was circus vernacular for the clowns’ dressing area. Heather’s father had gone there to make sure his costume and make-up were in order for the afternoon show.

 

     Heather swallowed hard, but didn’t answer her father.

 

     “Do you know why he wanted to see me?”

 

     “N...no.”

 

     “Oh, but I think you do, young lady. I told you to stay away from Bhagi. I told you to mind your own business.”

 

     Lynette wiped her hands on a dishtowel and turned around so she was facing her husband.  “Pat--”         

 

     The man held up a hand to silence his wife. She usually handled the disciplining of the children, but today he’d handle things. Heather had crossed the line when she’d interfered in circus business.

 

     “Heather, what do you have to say for yourself?”

 

     “Dad, he was beating Samara after the show last night. Just ask Kristof.  Bhagi--”

 

     “I don’t need to ask Kristof. Bhagi is the elephant trainer, not Kristof, and most certainly not you.”

 

     “But Samara’s my friend. She--”

 

     Jay kept his eyes on the T.V. set as he snickered and taunted, “Elephant Girl.”

 

     Heather whipped around.  “Shut up, Jay!  Just shut up!”

 

     Before Heather knew what was happening, her father grabbed her by the elbow, turned her sideways, and placed one sound ‘whack’ on the seat of her blue jeans with his open palm.

 

     Though it was by far not much of a spanking, that one whack hurt Heather more than any words could have.  It showed her father’s lack of respect for her concerns over Samara.  It showed that he was willing to put the circus before his daughter.  As far as Heather was concerned, the man she’d always thought of as so different from many other circus men because he came home to his family after a show and didn’t hang out with the other guys playing cards or drinking, was just like them after all. He didn’t understand.  He didn’t have compassion for an animal that had no voice, and therefore had no way to stand up for herself, or to escape the wretched life she was being forced to live.  He didn’t have enough respect for Heather’s worries to help her figure out what to do for Samara.

 

     “That’s enough, Heather!  That’s enough of all of this, do you understand?  You stay away from Bhagi and his elephants, or the next spanking you get from me will leave you standing for a week. And as for tonight when the rest of us go out for dinner, you’ll stay here in the trailer by yourself.”

 

     “I don’t care!  I wanna be by myself anyway!” Tears flowed down Heather’s cheeks as she ran for the door. “I don’t want to be with any of you if you can’t understand how much Samara means to me!  If you can’t understand that what Bhagi is doing to her is wrong!”

 

     Heather heard her mother calling her, but she kept on running.  She flew down the steps and across the big yard where the trailers were parked. She didn’t stop running until she plowed into something solid.  When she stepped back and looked up through her tears, Heather saw she’d run right into Kristof.

 

     The lion tamer pulled the girl to his chest. He had seen Bhagi talking to Pat, and could easily guess what had just transpired in the Langford trailer.  He smoothed a hand over the girl’s hair.

 

     “It is okay, little one,” he murmured in his soft, Hungarian accent. “It is okay.”

 

     “Oh, Kristof, they just don’t understand.  They don’t understand that the way Samara is acting isn’t her fault.”

 

     “I know. Sometimes people see only what they want to see, Heather.”

 

     The girl stepped away from the man and self-consciously swiped at her tears and her runny nose. “If there’s something I can do for Samara...if I can think of some way to change things for her, would you help me?”

 

     Heather knew she was asking a lot of Kristof.  She knew he could lose his job for interfering with any aspect of Jack Benton’s circus, but she also knew Kristof was kind-hearted and treated all animals with love and respect.  He had a special rapport with his lions in the same way Heather had a special rapport with Bahgi’s elephants.

 

     “How will you change things, little one?”

 

     “I don’t know yet. But if I can, will you help?”

 

     “Heather--”

 

     “Kristof, please.  We might be Samara’s only chance at...well, at something better. I’d ask my dad to help, only there’s no way he will now.  He won’t listen to me, and he told me I have to stay away from Samara.”

 

     Kristof looked around.  Maybe he would have told Heather there was nothing he could do, if he hadn’t caught sight of Samara chained up fifty yards away.  She was watching Heather with mournful eyes, as though Samara knew she was the source of Heather’s heartache. And yet, there was love in the pachyderm’s eyes, too, as though she recognized the bond she shared with the girl as being one of deep and longstanding friendship.

 

     Kristof put a hand on Heather’s back. “Come on.”

 

     “Where are we going?”

 

     “I have a newspaper article in my trailer I want to give you.”

 

     “A newspaper article?”

 

     “Yes. You read it, and then what you do from there, you do.  I know nothing of it, and if anyone asks where you got the article from, you do not say my name. Do we have an understanding?”

 

     “Sure,” Heather agreed, “we have an understanding,” though she had no idea how a newspaper article could help Samara.

 

      Ten minutes later, Heather emerged from Kristof’s trailer with a newspaper clipping neatly folded and tucked in a back pocket of her jeans. Heather knew she could get in a lot of trouble for what she was about to do, and that her father could even lose his job over it, but on the other hand, Heather’s father had also taught her that when you saw a wrong you had to try and right it. She was Samara’s friend, and to Heather, friendship ran deep, whether it was friendship shared with a human, or with an animal.  If Heather’s friend Michelle was being beaten, Heather would try and get Michelle help, so it only stood to reason that she should try and get Samara help as well.

 

     The girl ran for the payphone out in the parking lot. She couldn’t risk using any phone on the circus grounds. She pulled money that she’d earned doing Cherry Pie work – extra jobs around the circus that Mr. Benton paid kids to take care of - from a front pocket of her jeans. She separated the single dollar bills from the coins, and stuffed the singles into her pocket again. Heather retrieved the newspaper article out of her back pocket, unfolded it, and scanned it for the phone number it contained while she dropped the necessary coins into the phone’s slots. The girl counted four rings before the phone on the other end was picked up.  A pleasant sounding woman queried, “Hello?”

 

     Heather almost chickened out and broke the connection. Her eyes darted about, but there was no one around to see her.  Still, she would have lost her resolve and hung up the phone had she not heard the pleasant voice again.  A voice that sounded like it belonged to a person who loved animals.

 

     “Hello? May I help you?”

     “Uh...I...uh...”

 

     “Yes? Is there something I can help you with?”

 

     There it was again, just what Heather needed - an offer to help.

 

     “I...I...I’m calling from the Benton Brothers Circus, and I...my friend...my friend Samara needs your help.”

 

 

 

Chapter 9

 

    

     If John DeSoto could have turned his head all the way around, he would have. The boy held onto his uncle Johnny’s hand while they walked down the midway.  John’s eyes were wide over the multitude of unfamiliar sights that were begging for his attention.  Pitchmen called out from concession stands trying to sell popcorn, peanuts, cotton candy, taffy apples, balloons, cheaply crafted jewelry, plastic toys, and circus memorabilia, to the passersby.

    

     John laughed when two midgets dressed as clowns raced through the crowd four times.  The man in the lead was fleeing from the man behind, who was carrying a blow-up hammer. 

 

     “I’ll get you!  I’ll get you, ya’ no good clown!”

 

     The fourth time the act appeared the first midget was missing.  The midget with the hammer stopped in front of John.

 

     “Have you seen that no good clown, young man?”

 

     John shook his head. “No.”

 

     “Are you sure?”

 

     The boy could barely get out his, “Yes,” in-between a burst of giggles.

 

     The midget walked in circles around Johnny and John. “You’re not hiding him on me, are you?”

     John laughed again.  “No.”

 

     Suddenly, the other midget popped out from behind the cotton candy stand.

 

     “I’m over here, ya’ stupid boob!”

 

     “Don’t you call me a stupid boob!”

 

     “I just did.  So, stupid boob, whatta ya’ gonna do about it?”

 

     “I’m gonna bean you a good one, that’s what I’m gonna do!”

 

     “Only if you can catch me!”

 

     The two men took off running again, much to the delight of the crowd, and most especially, to young John.  He looked up at Johnny.

 

     “Those guys were pretty funny, huh, Uncle Johnny?”

 

     “They sure were.”

 

     “Were they munchkins?”

 

     “They were midgets, John. Munchkins aren’t real. That was just a name used in the Wizard of Oz.  Midgets played the roles of the munchkins.”

 

     The boy’s eyebrows knit together with puzzlement. He wasn’t sure he understood the difference, but he’d try and remember to ask Uncle Johnny about it later. Right now, there were too many interesting things to see, and too many enticing smells beckoning to a boy who had eaten only half of his peanut butter and jelly sandwich at noon before deciding he’d had enough.  At home, his mother would have made him finish the other half, but Uncle Johnny didn’t make a kid do things he didn’t want to.  There were too many fun things to do at Uncle Johnny’s to worry about eating.  Things like riding horses, and playing with Uncle Johnny’s malamute, Joe, and playing with the barn cats, and helping Uncle Johnny feed the animals, and helping him change the oil and filter in his Land Rover.

 

     John pointed to a booth. “Uncle Johnny, can I have a hotdog please?”

 

     “Sure, Little Pally.”

 

     Johnny bought a hotdog for himself and John, and then bought them each a Coke.  He stopped at another booth and let John pick out two toys, all the while aware that he was doing exactly what Roy had told him not to. Not that Roy would have expected anything else from Johnny, but Johnny supposed if he were wise, he wouldn’t make Roy any angrier than he already was.

 

     Oh well, too late now.  Besides, whoever heard of goin’ to the circus and not getting something to eat while you’re here, or not bringing home a souvenir?

    

     Although each of the DeSoto children had his or her own individual and distinct personality, there were some traits they shared that indicated they were from the same family – like their manners.  Without being prompted to do so, John thanked Johnny for the food and presents.  They ate while they walked, and once they threw their empty soda containers and hot dog wrappers in a garbage barrel, John pulled his toys out of the little bag the woman had put them in.  He’d picked out a circus wagon that had horses harnessed to it.  Inside the wagon were three tigers. The other toy was a plastic elephant that had caught John’s eye because of the jewels it was wearing on its feet that matched the jewels encrusted on the hat on its head. 

 

     “Do elephants dress up like this, Uncle Johnny?”

 

     Johnny looked down at the toy. “When they’re in the ring they do.”

 

     “Have you ever been to a circus before?”

 

     “Yep.”

 

     “When?”

 

     “The first time, when I was eight.  My parents took my sister and me to a circus that was held not far from where we lived. And then about ten years ago, I brought your brother and sister to this circus.”

     “But last night you told me that a circus travels from town to town.”

 

     “It does.  This circus...the Benton Brothers Circus, comes here at this time every year.”

 

     “Oh.  Well, we should come more often then.”

 

     Johnny chuckled at the boy’s wording. It was obvious that John spent his time in a household of people much older than himself.

 

     “After tomorrow’s performance the circus will move on to another city, John.  But maybe we can come next year when the circus is back.”

 

     “That could be my birthday present again.”

 

     “You’d better wait to decide about that until you’ve seen all the circus has to offer.  So far, you’ve only seen a little bit.”

 

     “Yeah, but what I’ve seen, I’ve liked.”

 

     Johnny chuckled again while pausing to give his tickets to the young woman in the booth outside of the Big Top. He and John followed the slow moving line into the tent.  As they ambled along, Johnny read the program the ticket taker had handed him.  Aside from glossy pictures of animals and people performing, it included a brief history of the Benton Brothers Circus, along with a smattering of other facts. 

 

     John looked up, up, up, his mouth dropping open when his eyes finally caught sight of the peak of the tent.

 

     “Wow, this is so tall! And big, too. It’s like a million times bigger than my house.”

 

     “Yep, it’s bigger than your house all right.  It says here that the tent is forty-seven feet tall and one hundred and thirty-seven feet around.”

 

     “Is that giant size?”

     “That’s giant size,” Johnny confirmed.  “And it holds two thousand people.”

 

     “Boy, that’s sure is a lot of people, huh, Uncle Johnny.”

 

     “It sure is.” Johnny strained to see over the heads in front of him. “And I think they all got here before we did, John.”

 

     Johnny asked John to put his toys back in their bag, then took the boy by his free hand. The way the people were packed into the tent meant that it would be easy to lose sight of a six-year-old, who could slip through legs and be gone from view within seconds.

 

     “Uncle Johnny, can we sit wherever I pick?”

 

     “Sure.”  Johnny looked at the rows upon rows of wooden bleachers that encircled the interior of the tent. The only thing that separated the bleachers, were the aisles that led to the exits.  “Where’re you gonna pick?”

 

     “Right in the middle. That’ll be the best spot in the house.”

 

     “You think so, huh?”

 

     “Yep. ‘Cause one time when me and my daddy went to the movies we got there late and had to sit in the front row.  That’s when I learned the front row is a crummy spot ‘cause you’re too close to the screen.  And one time when we went to watch Jennifer cheer at a basketball game, I asked my mom if we could sit at the very top of the bleachers.  That’s when I learned that’s a crummy spot, too, ‘cause you’re far away and the popcorn guy doesn’t like to climb up that high.  So now matter what, Uncle Johnny, the middle is always perfect.  You can see good, and the popcorn guy comes to you.”

 

     “Well, those sound like good reasons to choose the middle to me.  If there’re still places in the middle by the time it’s our turn to take our seats, then that’s where we’ll sit.”

 

     “Neato!”

 

     As Johnny had learned years ago when taking Chris and Jennifer on outings, it didn’t take much to make a six-year-old happy.  A hotdog, a soda, a couple of three-dollar toys, and permission to sit in the middle of the bleachers was enough to make John DeSoto’s day at the circus complete – and the circus hadn’t even started yet.

 

     Johnny didn’t let go of John’s hand until ten minutes later when they were climbing the center stairway that took them to the middle row of a set of bleachers. John scooted all the way over until he could lean against the metal railing that was attached to the side of the bleachers to keep anyone from falling off. He opened a wide kangaroo pocket on the leg of his camouflage trousers, rolled his bag up, and shoved it inside.  He looked up at Johnny as he buttoned the pocket shut.

 

     “Good thing I wore my G.I. Joe pants today, huh, Uncle Johnny.”

 

     “Yep,” Johnny agreed, glad that John had a place to put his bag of toys, which meant Johnny wouldn’t be asked to hang onto it. “Good thing.”

 

     “Is the show gonna start soon?”

 

     Johnny looked at his watch.  “In a little while.”

 

     John rested one hand on the railing next to him. He looked up, down, and around, and never quit grinning the whole time he waited for the performance to begin.

 

      

 

Chapter 10

 

     Roy DeSoto entered Station 26’s kitchen and poured himself a fresh cup of coffee. His men were gathered around the table playing cards.

 

Don McWinters glanced up. “Wanna join us, Cap?” 

 

     When Roy didn’t answer, the man asked again, “Cap, wanna join us?”

 

     “Huh?” Roy turned around to see five faces looking at him.  He knew he’d been reserved today, and even quieter than what was normal for him. However, Roy also knew he hadn’t taken his personal problems out on his crew, so overall, they were none the wiser as to the reasons behind his mood. “Sorry, Mac, I was...my mind was somewhere else.  What did you say?”

 

     “Just asked if you wanted to play a hand with us.”

 

     “Oh. Uh...no.  No thanks.  I’ve got paperwork to do in my office.”

 

     “Okay. Well, come out and join us when you’re done.”

 

     “Yeah...sure. I will. Thanks.”

 

     Roy walked through the apparatus bay and into his office. He shut the door, then crossed to his desk.  He sat the coffee mug that read, #1 Dad, onto a coaster. 

 

Roy eased into his leather chair with a heavy sigh. He ran his fingers over the bold, black letters on his mug, and recalled the Father’s Day nine years earlier when Chris and Jennifer had given it to him.  They’d been so proud, because they’d saved their allowances and then pooled their money in order to buy it.  He wished it were as easy now to be a ‘number one dad’ to his teenagers, as it had been when they were younger. If he wasn’t arguing with Jennifer over some piece of clothing she had on that he didn’t approve of, then he was arguing with her over Brad Hall. And as far as Chris went...well, some harsh words had been exchanged over the past twenty-four hours, but if nothing else, Roy had John Gage to thank for the fact that he still had a relationship with his son. 

 

It was the recollection of Johnny’s words in reference to little Jessie that forced Roy to proceed with caution when speaking with Chris. That didn’t mean there hadn’t been some yelling on Roy’s part, but it did mean he hadn’t said or done anything he now regretted. And late last night, long after Joanne had gone to bed, Roy had been waiting up for Chris when the teen arrived home from his date with Wendy Adams. Father and son had made a peace of sorts at that time, or at the very least, declared a truce.  In a quiet voice that fit the dim lighting in the living room, and the darkness prevailing throughout the rest of the house, Roy had expressed his disappointment one final time over Chris’s decision to drop out of college.

 

“Dad, I know,” Chris had said, copying the same soft tone his father had adapted. The young man sat down in the recliner adjacent to Roy’s and leaned forward with an earnest expression on his face.  “I’m sorry. I wish I could do what you want me to, but I can’t.  I just can’t.  I’m not happy, Dad.”

 

“And you’ll be happy being a paramedic?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“You’re certain?”

 

“As certain as I can be at this point. I...I’ve been taking EMT classes since August.”

 

“Where?”

 

“At Hartford Tech.”

 

Roy had absorbed that information before asking, “How are you doing?”

Chris couldn’t keep the smile off his face. “Pulling straight A’s.”

 

“I see. I...that’s great, Chris.  That’s...that’s great.”

 

     It was at that moment when Roy knew Chris had indeed found the career he wanted to pursue. The smile and the grades said it all, and Roy had no choice but to accept his son’s decision. All he had wanted was for Chris to succeed in a career that brought him happiness and fulfillment.  Though a career with the fire department still wasn’t what Roy preferred for his oldest son, he knew there was little point to further arguments.

 

     The conversation had shifted then.  It was the first one Roy and Chris had about the fire department that didn’t involve yelling. Chris gave his father the details about when his paramedic training would begin, and Roy listened without interruption.  When Chris was finished, Roy said simply, “I know you’ll do well.  I have no doubt about that,” which was as close as Roy could come to saying, “I’m proud of you, Chris,” considering the circumstances, and the fact that it was going to take Roy a while to get over his disappointment.                       

 

     Chris had gone to bed shortly after that. He’d briefly laid a hand on Roy’s shoulder as he passed him, and gave a small squeeze.  It was a gesture that seemed too grown up for Chris, but then Roy was forced to admit that Chris was grown up, and that just like Roy at the age of nineteen, Chris had to be allowed to live his life as he saw fit. 

 

     My mother was right, Roy had thought as he listened to his son’s footsteps recede down the hallway.  It doesn’t get any easier after they turn eighteen.  You worry about your kids just as much as you did when they were small.  Only now, the worries are different because you have no control over their actions, and no right to open your mouth and tell them what to do or what not to do.

 

     As he drove to work this morning, Roy had steeled himself for his arrival at the station. He hadn’t posted the list of incoming rookies before going off duty on Friday morning. Instead, he’d left the paper Johnny had brought him in his middle desk drawer with the knowledge that B-shift’s captain would find it and put it on the bulletin board. 

 

Just like Roy could have predicted, when he arrived his men were gathered around the list.  He received verbal congratulations and a few pats on the back from his crew, as well as from the men of B-shift, who were about to go off duty.  Roy smiled and said “Thanks,” just like he knew was expected of him. When Mac asked him why he’d kept Chris’s entry into the department’s paramedic program a secret, Roy had shrugged and said, “I don’t know I...I just didn’t think to mention it.”  If any of the men found that comment to be odd, they didn’t have time to dwell on it. The tones sounded, summoning Station 26 to an accident at a construction site before Roy had the chance to take roll call.

 

Roy had stayed in his office as much as possible since then.  He and his crew would have forty-eight hours off at the end of this shift.  By the time they gathered together again, Roy knew he’d be able to act more like his old self. But for today, the pain Chris’s decision had caused him was still too great, and he preferred to be alone as much as possible. He didn’t want to field any more questions about Chris’s entry into the department, nor did he want to accept further congratulations and be forced to pretend he was a happy about his son’s choice, when what he really wanted to say to anyone who inquired was, “I wish he hadn’t dropped out of college. I wanted him to earn a degree.  I didn’t want him to spend his life inhaling smoke, dealing with a bad back from years of lifting patients, and being woken up from a sound sleep at two in the morning, only to stand out in a driving rain and slosh through cold, waist-high muck while looking for the victims of a mud slide.”

 

The captain glanced at the digital clock on his desk.  By now, Johnny was at the circus with John.  Roy sighed, then took a long sip of hot coffee.  He sat the mug back on the coaster.  It was only fitting that the fire engine shaped coaster had been a gift from John the previous Father’s Day.  In that respect, it perfectly complemented the mug that had come from Chris and Jennifer so many years before. 

 

Roy mulled over how he was going to handle things with his best friend.  It wasn’t going to be as easy as having a quiet talk and calling a truce, as he’d done with Chris.  He wasn’t ready for a truce with Johnny yet, because Roy wasn’t confident enough about where he stood on the issue.  Was Johnny wrong to have kept his knowledge of Chris’s decision from Roy, or as Joanne had said, was Johnny merely the messenger who got caught in the middle the day Chris confided in him?  Regardless, it was still hard for Roy to reconcile that Johnny hadn’t come to him...that his best friend hadn’t told him about something this important.  Despite Joanne’s questions of Roy in this regard, the captain knew without a doubt he wouldn’t have kept such a thing from Johnny had their positions been reversed.  He couldn’t imagine his loyalties to a son of Johnny’s, overruling his loyalties to Johnny. Roy never gave it a thought that he couldn’t imagine this scenario, because he wasn’t putting himself in Johnny’s place, and trying to feel what it was like to be close to your friend’s children – to have watched them grow up and be a large part of their lives.  It wouldn’t be until years later, when Roy met a boy named Trevor Gage; that he came to have a clear understanding of just how Chris had put Johnny in the middle - of just how difficult that position must have been for Johnny, and of just how close you could grow to your best friend’s child.

 

But on this day in 1985, Roy didn’t have the ability to put himself in Johnny’s place, so his anger stewed and simmered. Roy knew the friendship he and Johnny shared was too strong to be destroyed over this issue, but he also knew it was going to be a while before he was ready to extend the proverbial olive branch.   

 

I suppose if I don’t make peace with Johnny in a few days Joanne will do something sneaky, like invite him dinner. I think I’ll tell her that I’ll let her know when I’m ready to invite him to dinner, and that he’d better not show up at our table before then.

 

Roy turned in his chair and looked up at the pictures on his shelf. He stared at the high school graduation portrait of Chris.  He was proud of his son and wanted the best for him, whatever ‘the best’ encompassed. Even, Roy supposed, if it didn’t encompass what he had planned for Chris. 

 

The man’s eyes flicked to the photo of himself and John Gage.  He couldn’t help but smile a little, despite his anger.  If Chris ended up with a partner half as good as Johnny had been, then he was going to be a lucky man, and many of Roy’s worries regarding Chris’s safety would be laid to rest. 

 

Before Roy could linger on his concerns any longer, the tones sounded.  He dashed for the apparatus bay, almost thankful for the traffic accident that would take his mind off of his troubles for a while.

 

 

Part 3