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| Page Seven |
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"Do you remember if you blacked out at all?" "I didn't. Not at all. Just got a little tired when I got cold." Roy's agreeing nod confirmed it for Joe. Joe stood up. "Your vital signs are normal. Your temperature is now where it should be, and you have absolutely no indications of internal injury." he took his stethoscope off from around his neck and stuffed it into a copious pocket. "I'm releasing you." "You mean, he's going to be fine?" DeSoto asked. "Healthiest near drowning I've ever seen." Joe chuckled. "But I am prescribing you some antibiotics just as a precaution. There's no telling whether or not that mud you ingested was contaminated with sewage runoff or other substances from the slide." "Oohhwwk." Marco made a face. Joe went on, with a kind smile. "But I wouldn't worry about that. Your body will excrete it naturally and maybe the only thing you'll notice is that you may get slightly constipated later on." "Wonderful.." Lopez said sarcastically. "I can prescribe a laxative if you're worried." Joe added helpfully. "Don't bother. My mother's probably got a recipe somewhere that'll do the trick if things get into a bind." Roy hid a smile. "I think your mother's corn tamales might be just the thing." Marco looked aghast, "Are you saying my mama's cooking..... " Lopez hunted around for delicate terms. "....puts..you off Roy?" "Honestly? At times..it does." Roy admitted, refolding his arms subconsciously. Lopez slumped back onto his pillow. "Oh brother..She's not going like hearing about that.." "Look. Lopez.. I- I- It's no big deal. Really. Listen.. Tell her it's just our intolerance for spicy food." Roy said matter of fact. "That it runs only in my family.." he added drolly. "It does?" "Yeah.." Roy said empathically and he uncrossed his arms to present an image of conviction. "Oh.. Thanks for uh,.. letting me know about that ..uh .. effect. Wouldn't want mom to worry that her food bothered anyone." "Tell her it truly doesn't. " Roy said. " Tell her we DeSotos are atypical gastronomically speaking. And that her reputation as Prima Dona Cocina Senora is unthreatened. Have no fear." Marco studied Roy's face for long moments, weighing his words. Finally, he slowly nodded. His hurt feelings tamed. "That settles it then. Marco's mom cooks Marco some of her famous corn tamales.. and... I give you this.."Joe rose with Marco's chart and ripped out the form from it for Lopez with his written prescription. "A broad spectrum antibiotic." Lopez nodded in tired compliance, grudgingly. Roy turned off Marco's O2 feed, took it off his grumbling co worker, rolled up its tubing, and tossed it into a waste receptacle bin. "Chin up, Marco. You could be me.." Marco glanced up in sudden alarm at Roy's out of character self jab. |
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Right then, the treatment room doors opened and a bustling, cheerfully whistling Chet, entered. He had body showered in the surgical locker room and was wearing a luxuriously clean uniform despite his still heavily mud flecked face. In his arms, he carried two more sets of shoes, shirts and slacks for Marco and Roy. And even two pairs of T-shirts and boxer shorts. Roy recognized those right away. But Marco remarked faster. "Hey, who raided our lockers at the station?" "Detello did. His company was released off scene before Cap and Stoker and he took a few liberties. Conned the Batallion Chief out of his car for an hour to go get us these." "Wow.. what a saint." Joe said, raising his eyebrows. "You have no idea, man. Detello's definitely saint grade material. Or maybe even higher, doc." Chet said, rolling his eyes. "He makes Camelot's Lancelot Du Lacque seem like a two bit wuss." "Really..?" Joe said. "It was uncanny, Dr. Early. Just when we needed equipment or needed a hand getting out of a tight spot, this Detello guy always managed to come up with a miraculous solution. He's the one who kept Marco from drowning with a flimsy 02 mask until we could get him outta trouble." Chet elaborated. "Yeah, only thing is he probably broke my nose.." Marco said. "He broke your nose?" Joe asked. "I thought that red on your face was just mud..." and he drew out his penlight to examine the inside of Marco's nose and he soon put it away to palpate the surrounding face bones carefully. "Canyon mud from Escondido.." Roy blinked. "Yeah, we were near Escondido, off the freeway." ::What a detective..:: he thought. "I'm not feeling any crepitus here. Can you breathe through your nose ok?" Marco nodded. "Yes. It's just a little tender." "Want us to do an x-ray to be sure?" "Would it effect anything? I mean, what will you do if it is broken?" "Nothing. I'm seeing no deformity. "First do no harm." Joe recited. "Better to leave well enough alone since it isn't hurting enough to bother you much." Roy grinned thoughtfully. "A symptom which seems like no symptom IS no symptom." "Exactly what I was thinking. My original prognosis stands Marco. You're free to go." Joe said. "Kel's rubbing off on you Roy. That's Dr. Brackett's mantra." Roy smiled even bigger. "From paramedic training class. I remember.." Then Roy's stress began to poke through and he found himself growing impatient to hold Kelly to his promise. "Chet..." Chet was busy at the sink and cupboard finding a wash bowl and a stand so Marco could rinse off the worst of the mud off himself before he changed into his clothes. "Chet.." Roy repeated. "Hmmm?" Kelly said, after frothing up the antibiotic soap in the bowl with a few fingers. He couldn't resist bending over and rinsing his own face free of mud. "How's Chris?" "Chris..?" Chet said, still preoccupied with the luxury of steaming clear water so near at hand. "My son..? H- How's he doing?" "Your son's here?" Joe asked quickly, looking up from the chart he was recording. |
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"Yeah, he was in the bus with us.." Marco said. "Yeah, Chet. How's he doing?" Chet grimaced and said. "Ahh! Roy couldja hand me a towel? I think I got soap in my eye.." Roy levelled one at his face with force. "Chet!!" "Oww, thanks. Uh," Kelly said using the towel's corner to twist grit out of his ear. "He's one hundred percent Ayee Okay, Roy. Just some surgery to suture him up. No lasting damage.." he said mildly to them all when he looked up. "You're certain..." "Does Morton ever smile?" Chet said deadpan. Roy let down his suspicion about the validity of his news immediately and relaxed. But Lopez was still discontented. "Chet.." Marco prompted. "Huh.." "How am I supposed to wash up with that?" "With what?" Roy and Lopez both pointed down. Kelly's charitable wash bath offering was now dark red with mud and crusty sand. "Oh,, sorry. Here Marco, let me draw you up another one." Joe left the treatment room, chuckling. Roy followed him, admonishing after Marco and Chet as he left, holding the door open with a deep lean. "You guys got fifteen minutes to clean up. We can then all leave in the squad together. If we jam in tight, we can get four in the cab. We've done it before.." "Wait a minute. You're going to leave Chris alone here at Rampart?" Kelly asked. "Yes.. No.. Oh, I don't know.. Never had this happen before, don't know if Cap'll let me remain here." "Of course he will, DeSoto. Are you outta your everloving mind?" Kelly frowned passionately. "Yeah, just a little. The crisis is over and I guess I'm finally reacting.." Roy said numbly. "I'll say." But Roy acted as if he didn't hear Kelly at all as his mind was still racing. "I'll call Joanne, let her know what's happened to Chris, and get cleaned up myself.. Then we can go.." he muttered, already losing recollection of Chet's firm belief Cap would release Roy from active duty because of his son's mishap. "You're gonna do all that in fifteen minutes? Man, Joanne's gonna fall apart for sure. Nothing like the maternal instinct." Kelly commented. "Yeah well that maternal instinct's also been down this route before. Joanne's not some snivelling panicky mother who'll faint at the slightest bad news." "Never said she was going to faint I said she might fall apar--" Chet began. "Kelly..." Roy said irritably. "What..?" "Just go help Marco change." Chet finally saw he was outta line. "Right.." He peeked out further from the Treatment Room. "But then we gotta talk pal.." "About what?" Roy snapped. "About something your son's into, man. Think I might wanna get into it, too, real soon." Chet said mysteriously. "I'm dying with suspense..Can it wait? My life's sorta kinda been turned upside down today if you haven't noticed.." DeSoto said sarcastically. "Yeah, I noticed.. And yeah. It can wait. Better yet, I'll bring up my idea to Johnny. He might be in a better mood to offer an opinion. Man, at least I know GAGE can handle his stress.." "Not this kind.." Roy fired back and he let the door swing shut between them. DeSoto felt like an immediate terd for lashing out at Kelly but a part of him really didn't care at the moment. All he could think about was that phone call to Joanne. All through his shower in the hospital locker room, he rehearsed how he was going to break the news to the family. Then he figured it out. He would let Chris call home himself, before he was prepped for surgery. ::Nothing like hearing news from the source:: DeSoto sighed. ::Maybe I'll have Dixie string in a landline from the wall, to Chris's bed so he can dial out directly from a phone that isn't the red one. Might ease the shock for Joanne and my daughter.:: An overwhelming paternal angst gripped Roy. His separation from his son following his near fatal accident suddenly felt intolerable. Roy couldn't seem to dress fast enough for comfort's sake and all he could see was the memory of Chris's mud covered face blending in with the hillside's guts, pooling in the bus, whenever he closed his eyes. Something very integral inside Roy, ....finally snapped. |
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********************************** From: Katherine Bird <kathbird01@yahoo.co.uk> Date: Wed Jan 15, 2003 12:10 am Subject: The Shell.. ----------------------------------------------- It was morning, and the day after the school bus rescue. A-shift slowly made their way into the kitchen for coffee after changing into their work clothes. Cap was the first one to the steaming coffee pot. In his hands were the run sheet forms for the bus's incident. He placed them fanned out in the middle of the table top and placed the pot in their center so anyone reaching for it would have to see the forms before getting a cup filled. |
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