Scene One
"Did you get one of these yet?" Roy asked, holding up a fancy white envelope as he walked into the kitchen of Station 51.
Johnny set down his coffee cup to grab at what Roy was holding. "No. I didn't get one. What is it?"
"Open it," Roy said, the smirk on his boyish face betraying that something was either amiss or astonishing.
There was only one way to find out. Johnny slid the lacy card out of the envelope and opened the flap. "Mr. and Mrs. Edward Frohm request your presence at the marriage of their daughter, Gertrude Marie Frohm to..." Johnny's voice turned from a monotonous drone to a sudden, high-pitched staccato. "... Craig Walden Brice?? Walden? Hahahaha! His middle name is Walden! That's funny! That's too flippin' funny!"
Roy's brow furrowed. Wasn't Gage missing the point? "Uh... Johnny..."
"Walden! Can you believe it? Of course! I can believe it. It had to be Walden... "
"Johnny!" Roy said, a little louder than his usual buttery words that seemed to flow over each other without any one syllable being more distinct than the other.
Gage fell silent. "What?"
"This is a... wedding invitation," Roy said, grabbing the card from his partner's hand and waving it around for emphasis.
It hit Gage suddenly. His lips pursed to form words, but it took a few seconds before they actually came out. "Brice is getting married. Brice is... getting married? Roy... who... who in their right mind would..."
"She's an heiress," Chet said, finishing the thought as he looked up from the morning paper. "Can you believe it? The walking rule book found himself an heiress. She's loaded. Daddy owns some company that hit it big and... the chick's flipped over Brice. It just doesn't seem fair."
Johnny and Roy looked at Chet as if he had two heads. They thought it couldn't get any weirder, but they were wrong. "An heiress?" Roy chirped. "What does she see in that... that guy?" Roy couldn't bring himself to say "jerk". Oh sure. The word might have fit, but Roy DeSoto was sometimes too nice for his own good.
"I dunno," Chet said. "But, you gotta hand it to him. He knows how to pick ‘em."
"Yeah," Roy said, a miffed look on his face. "I guess there's one bright side to it all. Maybe once Brice is rich, he'll retire from the fire department."
Gage laughed. "That's wishful thinking, but I wouldn't bet on it." His smile slowly morphed into a frown as it suddenly dawned on him. "Chet, did you get one of these?" he asked, referring to the invitation.
Chet nodded. "Sure did."
"Hmph!" Gage continued. "I wonder why I didn't get one..."
The claxon sounded, signaling an incoming emergency call. "Squad 51," Sam droned over the radio. "Woman injured, 1010 North Egan, 1010 North Egan, time out 09:10."
"Squad 51, KMG 365," Roy replied into the mic just before climbing into his familiar driver's seat and starting the engine.
Scene Two
Roy and Johnny knocked on the door of a Victorian-style, two story house. A short, pudgy woman answered.
"Right this way," she said, gesturing for them to follow her into the living room where an elderly woman lay on the floor, the shattered pieces of a vase strewn beside her. "I was outside gardening when I heard a yell and... and a terrible crash. I rushed in here and found her like this."
"Are you a relative?" Roy asked, setting the bio-phone down on the rug.
The woman shook her head. "No no. I'm Mrs. Cameron's next door neighbour."
If this had not been an emergency call, it would have been fascinating just to take the time to look at the many museum pieces in this room.
It was as if Roy and Johnny had stepped from the present time back to the 1940's. Nearly everything was antique. Even Glenn Miller's "String of Pearls" played softly in the background on a small cassette player, the only truly modern item they could see at first glance.
"Well, Miss," Johnny said, smiling as he squatted down beside the victim to begin his examination. "What happened here?"
"Oh, go on," the woman replied, returning Johnny's smile. Although her age had to be somewhere in her 70's, it was a pretty smile just the same. "I haven't been a Miss Anything in a long time, don't you think? But, thank you. That's the nicest compliment I've had in a long time."
Johnny noticed blood trickling from a laceration on the woman's forehead. "You still haven't answered my question," he continued. "Can you tell me what happened?"
"Well... I guess I'm not as nimble on my feet as I used to be," she replied as Johnny felt her wrist for a radial pulse. "I was dusting. You see, I'm having the Ladies' Quilting Society over for tea tomorrow afternoon and... oh... that Mrs. Sniddly... she‘s such a fussbudget. She only comes here to run her fingers over my furniture to check for dust!"
"So, you fell while you were dusting?" Johnny asked, for clarification. "Roy, pulse is 90. Respirations are 28."
"What's your name?" asked the woman, seemingly oblivious to the fact that she was in the middle of an emergency.
Johnny pumped up the blood pressure cuff. "My name is Johnny. Are you taking any medications, Ma'am?"
The woman got a strange look on her face. It was as if she had left the room and gone someplace else. Johnny thought she might faint for a moment. "Johnny," she said, finally. "That... that was my husband's name. He passed away last year. Oh my..." Her hand went involuntarily to her mouth. "You... you're tall and handsome... just like my Johnny was. That's his picture on the mantlepiece."
Johnny was trying to do his job, but how could he just ignore her? She was spry and sweet and her grey eyes sparkled with as much vitality as some women half her age. He respectfully followed her pointing finger to look at the photograph on the mantle. It was black and white, a young man in a WWII uniform. It was true. The man was tall, dark and... he could easily pass for Johnny at a quick glance. The resemblance was uncanny.
"I'm sorry you lost your husband," Johnny said, with unfeigned compassion. "Roy, BP is 110/80. Pupils are equal and reactive. Ma'am, are you on any medication for anything?"
Roy repeated the information into the bio-phone.
"No," she replied, smiling as Johnny began to tend to the wound on her forehead. "Please... will you call me Eudora? I... I haven't had a handsome man call me Eudora since... well... since my Johnny passed away."
"Ok... Eudora," Johnny said. "We'll have you fixed up in no time. We'll be taking you to Rampart Emergency. Is there anyone we should contact about this? Any family?"
Eudora shook her head. "No... no family. Johnny and I never had children."
"I'll go with her," the neighbour volunteered. "She's like family to me."
"The ambulance is here," Roy said, closing up the bio-phone. "She's ready to transport."
"Great," said Johnny. He turned to the neighbour. "And don't worry. She's going to be fine."
Scene Three
"We need more D5W," Roy said, examining the contents of the drug box.
"I'll get it," Johnny said. "Hey Dix! Did you hear the news?"
Dixie looked up from the nursing schedule she was working on so intently. "You mean Brice's wedding?" she asked.
"Yeah. Can you believe it?" Johnny asked, sarcasm evident in his voice.
"Well, even Craig Brice is entitled to a little love and happiness, don't you think?" Dixie replied, her blue eyes sparkling like tanzanite in the sun. She knew fully well how much aggravation the rigid paramedic had caused Roy and Johnny in the past. She felt a little mischievous and even argumentative today. She would attribute it to her Irish blood or to just being a woman. Either reason would do in a pinch.
Roy raised his eyebrows as he closed up the drug box. "I just gotta wonder if he'll make that woman happy... or miserable. I couldn't handle a few weeks with him. How would anybody handle living with him for life?"
"I dunno," Dixie said. "But, she's rich. I bet it'll be one heck of a wedding. I can't wait to see what she's wearing."
Johnny did a double take. "You mean to tell me, you got an invitation?"
Dixie reached into her pocket and pulled out the familiar fancy envelope. "I just got it today," she replied.
A typical Gage pout emerged on his face. "Hmph! I didn't get one."
Dixie looked surprised. "I can't believe that," she said. "Maybe it got lost in the mail.
"Yeah... maybe," Johnny said, but he didn't believe that for a second.
It shouldn't bother him. He didn't even like Craig Brice, but his ego was bruised. He thought and thought, wondering what he could have done that was so terrible, so unforgivable that Craig Brice had decided not to invite him to his wedding. Everybody else seemed to be invited. He wouldn't be surprised if Henry the dog had one of those fancy invitations.
"Are you ready to go?" Roy asked, knowing he would never hear the end of this if Gage didn't receive an invitation.
"Yeah, sure," Johnny replied. They headed towards the exit. "Catch you later, Dix. I still can‘t believe Brice didn't invite me. He invited Chet. I mean, Chet's plain annoying. Chet makes awful jokes about Brice all the time... why Chet and not me?"
Roy knew this was going to be a long shift.
Scene Four
John Gage whistled to himself as he switched out of his beige pullover sweater into the familiar blue shirt that identified him as a firefighter/paramedic for the LA County fire department. Last shift had been draining, but the day off had recharged his batteries and now he was ready to take on another day of dirt, smoke, and danger. Man! I love this job! He thought.
"How was your day off?" Roy asked, knowing by the whistling that it must have been good, or at best, his partner had not been dumped in the last 24 hours.
"Great," Johnny said. "It was great."
"What did you do that was so great?" Roy prodded, opening his own locker to get ready for a new shift.
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"Absolutely nothing," Johnny replied. "I spent the whole day relaxing. I read a book, watched TV... I haven't done that in a long time."
Roy had an expression on his face that was half grin, half smirk. "That's... that's terrific Johnny." He wished he could be that happy over nothing.
"And..." Johnny continued, "I decided that I don't care about Craig Brice's wedding."
Roy wished he could believe that, but he knew better. "Really?"
"Really," Johnny said, tucking in his shirt. "It's going to be boring anyway. I mean, c'mon. You know how nit-picky Brice is. You don't honestly think that anybody's going to enjoy that wedding, do you?"
Johnny had a point. "Ok," Roy said. "You're right. It will be boring. I discussed it with Joanne and we're not going either, but you don't have to worry. Since you didn't get an invitation, you won't be the one who stiffed the guy and didn't show up."
"Exactly," Johnny said, with a smile wide enough to receive a field goal.
"Gage," Chet called out, walking into the locker room. "Somebody's... uh... waiting for you in the kitchen." He giggled all the way out the door.
"What's that all about?" Johnny asked as he and Roy headed to the kitchen.
Roy shrugged and followed. He was as curious as his partner. His blue eyes opened twice as wide as usual when he saw Craig Brice standing in the kitchen with a pretty blonde at his side.
"Hi John, Roy," Brice said, smiling a little. "I want to introduce you all to Trudi, my fiancee. Trudi, this is Roy DeSoto and John Gage."
"Hello," Trudi greeted the paramedics, extending her hand to shake theirs. "Craig has told me so much about you."
"Uh... hi," Johnny said, suddenly feeling like his feet were no longer on the floor. How had Brice landed such a gorgeous chick? This girl should be on the cover of a magazine. "Would... would you like some coffee?"
"Yes, I would," Brice answered. He was off duty today, so he was only half his annoying, rule-book self. Still, there was not a wrinkle or a speck of anything to be seen on his clothing. "Double sugar, double milk."
"Oh Craig," Trudi chided. "You know too much caffeine and too much sugar is bad for you. Do they have de-caf here?"
There was a pause. Johnny had the coffee pot in mid-air as they all waited. "Uh... you're so right, Sweetheart," Brice responded. "I'll have to pass on the coffee. Trudi takes good care of me. She's... a real gem. Oh, uh... Gage... I wanted to ask you something... I've been meaning to ask for a while, but... I guess being in love has thrown me a little off schedule."
The couple looked at each other and grinned. Roy thought he would be sick, but he just smiled in his "nice" Roy DeSoto way.
"Shoot," Johnny said, sipping his coffee rudely in front of Brice.
"I was wondering," Brice said, "would you honour me by being an usher at my wedding?"
You could have heard a pin drop in the kitchen at Station 51. Even Henry's ears perked up at this. Chet almost dropped his coffee cup. The moment could be described as... intense.
"Well," Johnny began. "I... I'm so flattered. I don't know what to say."
"Say yes," Brice said, patting him on the shoulder.
Was it too much caffeine? Temporary insanity? Mercy run amuck? No one would ever know, but John Gage suddenly grinned and blurted out, "Yes... I'd be happy to usher for you at your wedding. That would be incredible."
Once again, you could hear a pin drop. This was a moment too strange for words.
"Great," Brice said. "I knew I could count on you. You're a good friend, John. Well, I know you have a busy shift ahead of you, so we'll be on our way. I'll call you with the details."
"Sure," Johnny said, and as quickly as he had come, Craig Brice was gone.
Roy rolled his eyes. "I don't believe it," he said.
"What?" Johnny feigned innocence.
"Five minutes ago you didn't care about his wedding. It would be boring. It would be terrible. You don't even like this guy and... and suddenly you're in the wedding party? Don't you find that a little hypocritical?"
Chet began humming the theme from The Twilight Zone. Johnny grimaced at him.
"Well," Johnny said, looking like the cat that just swallowed the canary. "Not exactly. I mean, I didn't know that Brice thought so highly of me. He's not such a bad guy."
Roy shook his head and left the room before he said something he would regret later.
It was Mike Stoker who put the whole thing in a suddenly new perspective. "He asked you to do it because all the guys at the station where he works said no."
Johnny gave Stoker a dirty look. "Where did you hear that?"
"From his partner," Stoker replied. The handsome engine driver was generally quiet, but when he did decide to put in his two cents worth, it usually ended up being worth a dollar. "You got stuck with a job that nobody else wants... and Brice reeled you in... like a big, juicy bass."
Gage hated to admit he had been had. His stubbornness kicked in and he ended up repeating Dixie's famous words. "Well... even Craig Brice deserves a little love and happiness, doesn't he?"
The claxon sounded. Everyone was relieved at the interruption.
"Squad 51, woman unconscious. 1010 North Egan. 1010 North Egan. Time out, 9:35."
"Hey!" Johnny said, climbing into his familiar seat. "Isn't that..."
"Eudora Cameron's house," Roy confirmed as he started the squad.
Scene Five
When Johnny and Roy pulled up to Eudora Cameron's house, it was like deja-vu. There was the short, pudgy woman again, though this time she was trotting across the yard, garden gloves still on her hands, soil on the knees of her pants.
"Hurry!" the woman said, sounding flustered. "She fell again... and this time I can't wake her up!"
Roy and Johnny wasted no time in getting their equipment and rushing up the stairs behind Eudora Cameron's worried neighbour. She led them to a bedroom this time, where Eudora lay motionless on the floor, still in her white cotton nightie.
"Eudora!" Johnny said, slight angst in his voice. His worry was there, just controlled. "Eudora, can you hear me?"
No response. She was out cold.
"Do you know how this happened?" Roy asked.
The neighbour shook her head, throwing her hands up in frustration.
"No. I'm sorry. I was going to do some gardening for Eudora, you know. She can't... get around the way she used to, so I was going to plant some impatiens for her. I knocked on the door to ask her to come out and... and give me her opinion. There was no answer, so I let myself in to check on her and... and..." A tear trickled down the woman's round face.
Roy put his hand on the woman's shoulder. "It's all right," he said. "We'll take care of her."
"She's alive," Johnny said, taking her corotid pulse. "It's 120, but thready."
Roy hooked up the bio-phone. "Rampart, this is Squad 51."
A momentary pause, then Dr. Early responded. "This is Rampart. Go ahead, 51."
"We have a female patient, approximately 70 years old. She's unconscious. We don't know how it happened or how long she's been out. Uh... pulse is 120 and thready. Respirations are..."
"16," Johnny said, his face betraying how much he did not like this situation. "BP is 90/60."
The information, the instructions, the treatment... John Gage did his job automatically, but his mind kept drifting back to his conversation with Eudora two days ago. He noticed another photograph of "her" Johnny on the bedside table. It made him feel like he was looking at his own eyes, his own frame, though this man had nothing to do with him and he had been, not a firefighter/paramedic, but a hero just the same, in another time, for another cause. Both men risked their lives to save others. Both men were obviously cut from a common thread. Gage's emotions churned like turbulent waters. It was a no-no to get emotionally involved with a patient. He knew that, but... in this case... his heart wasn't listening to his head. This lady had pierced through, right where it could hurt him to lose her.
"I'll ride with her," Johnny said.
Roy just nodded. He could see what was going on with his partner. He knew he would have to address the issue, but it could wait. Roy had had a few of those cases himself where his heart ran away with him. He had no condemnation for his friend, just concern.
Scene 6
"The doc said she's going to be okay," Roy said, breaking the silence that had been hanging over them since they left the hospital.
Gage half-smiled. "I know."
The silence returned; uncomfortable, thick silence. "She seems like a really sweet lady," Roy continued. "I can see why you're so concerned for her, but... but, you've got to detach a little. It's going to swallow you up if you don't."
"I know," Gage said, like a parrot that didn't know any other phrase.
Roy sighed. He knew his words were hitting a brick wall. "What do you think will happen now?"
Gage shrugged. "I don't know." He leaned his chin on his hand, his elbow resting on the open window of the squad. "When she came to, she couldn't remember what happened. She didn't even remember being in the hospital the other day. Oh... she called me Johnny, but... but I realized that she wasn't even talking to me."
"She thought you were her dead husband," Roy completed the scenario, knowing how much that must bother his partner.
"The other day, she seemed so spry, so... so alive. How can she have Alzheimer's disease? I don't get it. She... she knew who she was, where she was... the other day... can this thing strike that suddenly?"
"From what the neighbour says, Eudora's been sliding downhill like this for some time... forgetting where she is, who she is... having accidents... leaving food cooking on the stove. She's been concerned for a while, but didn't want Eudora to end up in a nursing home. So... she's been helping to take care of her."
Gage's face emanated his pain. He didn't like this... Alzheimer's thing. It was going to rob a sweet woman of her freedom and her mind. It would eventually rob her of her life.
"The neighbour says that Eudora was the most coherent she's been in a long time the other day... when she was talking to you," Roy added, not wanting to feed Johnny's attachment, but hoping he would take comfort in the fact that he had affected her life somehow.
Gage looked at his partner, his dark eyes narrowing. "You're just saying that."
"No," Roy shook his head. "I'm telling the truth. That‘s what Eudora's neighbour told me. She connected you with her dead husband and... she came right out of herself and... apparently... she was her old, normal self."
Gage smiled slightly. Maybe bringing Eudora a moment of her life back was something. Maybe... maybe bringing her a happy memory was something too.
Scene 7
"Make sure you put Trudi's family here and my family here," Brice told Gage for the tenth time in so many minutes.
"All right. I hear you," Johnny said, trying not to lose patience with the groom. "After all," he thought, "you'd be nervous too if you were getting hitched." Johnny shuddered. Just the thought of that made him squeamish.
"And... and the mother of the bride goes here," Brice said, wiping the pew with a handkerchief to make sure there was no dust.
"Brice," Johnny said, patting him on the shoulder. "Relax. This is your wedding day. You're... you're supposed to be enjoying this, waiting for the woman of your dreams to come down that aisle right there and... and you'll be together for the rest of your lives..."
Suddenly, Brice bolted, leaving Johnny muttering, "Was it something I said?"
Johnny thought he'd better follow him. He could hear Brice long before he found him in the men's room, throwing up what seemed like a ten course meal. "Great," Gage thought. "If this keeps up, the wedding ceremony will have to be moved to the bathroom."
"Oh, I don't feel so good," Brice said, as Johnny helped him back up to his feet.
"You don't look so good either," Gage said. "You're really pale. Let's check you out."
"No, I'm all right," Brice argued.
"Brice," Gage insisted. "Will you... will you just let me... come here and sit down."
Brice sat down and let Johnny examine him. It looked like a father dealing with a little boy. Johnny had never seen Brice so obviously... vulnerable. The walking rule book was always in control, always right, always annoying his colleagues, but suddenly, he was... Johnny didn't want to say it, but he thought Brice was scared out of his wits.
"Well, your vitals are fine," Gage said. "But, man, you look..."
"I don't know what I'm doing," Brice confessed, looking around to make sure no one else could hear.
Johnny nodded. He recognized the anxiety. He had felt the same way once when he thought he was going to marry Valerie. "Do you love this..." Gage was going to say chick, but changed it to, "lady?"
Brice sighed. "I... I don't know," he admitted. "She... she's pretty. She's rich. She wants me. I guess I've never had an opportunity like this offered to me before. Gage, you won't believe this, but some women find me... a bit annoying."
Johnny tried not to smirk. "I can relate to that," he said. "But, I'm not in a church about to get hitched to a woman I'm not sure I love."
Brice had a "save me" look on his face. "What... what do I do?"
Gage couldn't believe this. Not only was Brice valuing his opinion, but all of a sudden, Gage was discovering that Craig Brice was just as human as everyone else. "There's only one thing you can do," he said. "You've got to tell her the truth."
Brice got up and started pacing, nervously. "How can I... it's too late... all the guests... it... it's going to devastate Trudi. I never wanted to do that. No... No... I've got to go through with this. It's gone too far and... and it's the right thing to do."
"Brice... you can't be serious," Gage argued.
"Shhht!" Brice shushed him. "I've made up my mind. What time is it?"
Johnny looked at his watch. "It's 4 o'clock."
"It's time," Brice said as they advanced to the front of the church where the best man and the other usher were already waiting in their positions. "Gage," Brice said, pausing for a moment.
"Yeah?"
"Thanks anyway."
Why did Johnny suddenly feel like he was about to witness an execution instead of a marriage ceremony?
Scene 8
Johnny tapped on the door of the familiar Victorian house. Linda Palmeroy, Eudora's pudgy neighbour answered, smiling to greet him as he entered.
"How is she?" he asked, swallowing over a lump in his throat before entering the living room where Eudora stood amidst a mountain of boxes that held her memories, her treasures, her life.
"She's all right, considering," Linda replied. "I know she doesn't want to leave here, but... there's an opening for her at Barryvale Lodge. I have friends who work there. It's a well-run senior's villa. She'll still have her own space there, but she'll also have round the clock medical attention."
Johnny frowned. Eudora suddenly looked more fragile than the china that was being packed away. It wasn't fair to see a disease steal the very soul of such a beautiful creature. He pictured her back in the 1940's. She must have driven her suitors crazy. That brought the trace of a smile to his face, and eased some of the raging emotions in his heart.
"Johnny!" Eudora greeted him, her grey eyes lighting up when she saw him. "Where have you been? I've been waiting for you!"
"I came as soon as I could," he replied. "I came to help you take care of things." He took her delicate hands in his. "I'm sorry about all of this, Eudora. I know this house is important to you."
"Oh, don't you worry about me," she replied, giving him a wry grin. "Nothing else matters now that you're here. Do you remember the first day we met? You were on shore leave and I was singing at that little club, "The Swing Shift." Oh my! I never saw such a handsome thing in all my days... I told my friend that same day... I said, ‘Do you see that soldier boy over there? I'm going to marry him.'"
Johnny was confused for a moment. Didn't she recognize him? Had this disease so captured her already that she didn't know him? Then, he understood. She may not recognize John Roderick Gage, the firefighter/paramedic for LA County, but she did recognize "her" Johnny and, for the moment, he was content to be just that... her Johnny.
"That was a wonderful night," he replied. "And you were beautiful."
Her cheeks flushed with a pink colour that contrasted against the paleness of her skin. "Oh... Johnny... you always were one for colourful words and romance. I kept every one of the letters you wrote me during the war."
"I meant every word," Johnny said, looking deeply into her eyes. Maybe Eudora wasn't long for this world, but for a few moments, he could give her back the happiest time of her life.
Eudora turned up the volume on her cassette recorder. "They're playing our song," she said. "I sang it for you the night we met."
The crackling strains of "I'll Be Seeing You" began to play. It was as if Eudora became more alive, more animated with every note. None of it was real. It was all phantoms and shadows of what had been, but John Gage didn't mind. He reached out his hand to offer Eudora Cameron a dance.
"Oh, I'd love to," she said. "I hope my boyfriend doesn't catch us. He's terribly jealous."
"Is he here?"
"No. He left me all alone," she said, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
Johnny smiled. "Well, that's his loss, isn't it?"
Eudora giggled as they began to whirl and waltz across the living room floor. Perhaps it was that image of John Cameron spurring him on from Eudora's mantlepiece. Perhaps it was Eudora herself, giggling and responding to his cues. Who knew John Gage could come across so suave and debonair? But, he did. He made a dying woman feel like her feet were floating on air.
"I wish this dance would never end," she said, looking up into Johnny's handsome face. Yes. John Gage was dancing with her, but she saw someone else with similar features and as noble a heart. She saw her Johnny the way he was in his youth. It was the most beautiful gift anyone had ever given her.
When Roy DeSoto arrived to lend a hand in helping pack up Eudora too, Linda Palmeroy led him to the tall archway leading into Eudora's Victorian living room. What Roy saw explained why Linda's eyes looked so misty. There was his partner, his best friend, Johnny Gage, waltzing across the floor, deftly whirling and twirling Eudora so that she never once stumbled over any of the packing boxes that surrounded them. For this small span of time, Eudora had Gage's full attention and, in a way, he was rescuing her now, rescuing her from the gloomy prognosis of her present and taking her back to a time when she was free and happy.
"She thinks he's her Johnny," Linda commented, smiling at Roy. "Does your partner realize what he's doing for her right now?"
"I don't know," Roy said, grinning back. He felt a lump forming in his throat. Johnny had been known to surprise him. He could be impulsive, cranky, pushy and sometimes just annoying, but right now, Roy DeSoto knew why John Gage was his best friend.
"I hate to break this up," Linda said.
"Just let them finish this song," Roy said.
Scene 9
"I still can't believe what happened the other day," Chet said, grabbing the last jelly donut from the box.
"Me neither," Marco said. "Craig Brice got stood up at his own wedding. That must have done wonders for his ego."
"C'mon fellas," Cap interjected. "Let's not gloat too much. Brice is... a hard guy to work with, but I certainly never wished anything bad like this to happen to him."
"Why'd she stiff him anyway?" Chet asked. "Has anybody heard anything?"
Stoker piped in. "His partner says that Trudi was stricter than Brice is. She wanted everything her way and she couldn't handle Brice because he was always doing things wrong."
All the guys stared at Stoker, unable to believe his words. "No way,"
Chet said. "Nobody's as rigid as Brice!"
"I still feel sorry for the guy," Cap said. "He must be devastated."
"Uh... I wouldn't worry about it too much," Johnny said, his mouth full of donut. "Brice was having second thoughts about the whole thing himself."
"How would you know that?" Roy asked, smirking.
"He told me," Johnny said. "We had a great little chat just before the...uh... just before the almost wedding."
"Hmph!" Cap said. "Well, how do you like that? He wanted out anyway and she didn't show up. Brice must be ecstatic."
"I doubt it," said Roy.
"What do you mean, you doubt it?" Johnny asked, a few crumbs flying from his mouth as he spoke.
"I know just what he'll do," Roy said. "He'll be upset that he just got dumped. Then, he'll torment his partner through the entire shift... the entire shift!"
"I get the point, Roy..." Johnny said.
Roy was on a roll. "Brice's partner will never get a minute's peace all day because the guy will go on and on and on and..."
"Roy... I get it!" Johnny said, more emphatically.
"I mean, he wanted out of the deal anyway, but he'll be flapping his gums over and over and over again, looking for sympathy for something he wanted anyway... it'll be terrible..."
"Roy!" Johnny almost yelled, trying to stop his partner's tirade.
Roy stopped suddenly. "But, then again, maybe he won't do that at all. I've just... heard... that some guy's partners do that."
Roy walked out of the kitchen leaving Johnny's mouth hanging open, forming a word in slow motion. The rest of the firemen turned back to breakfast, paper reading and whatever they had been doing prior to this interesting conversation. Even Henry rolled over for another siesta.
Johnny looked towards the doorway, back to the table, then back towards the doorway again. "Hmph!" he said, finally, popping the last piece of donut into his mouth. "I wonder what's eating him!"
The End - KMG 365
