Author’s note: Events in this story begin immediately after those in my story, The Inspection. 

Aftermath
Patricia Embury

Johnny sat bolt upright in bed and opened his eyes. White-hot pain seared through his chest, taking his breath away. Wha? Where am I? His heart pounded, and he braced his injured side with his left arm. Johnny rubbed his eyes, then quickly looked around the room. The late-afternoon sun streamed through the open blinds. The Dodgers game played softly on the television set. Thank God. I’m still at Rampart. The pain subsided, and he leaned back into the mattress. Man, that was some nightmare.

Johnny pulled up the bottom of the thin hospital gown, exposing the thick bandages protecting the long incision on the right side of his chest. He wiped the sweat off his brow, then inventoried the equipment attached to him. A tube poked out of the lower edge of the dressing and dropped off the side of the bed. Chest tube’s still there. Small thick, white patches were stuck on each corner of his chest. A wire from each patch coalesced into a cable attached to a monitor above the bed. He craned his neck to see the green blips cross the screen. Heart rate’s slowing, good. He dropped the gown and picked up the sheet. Yep, still got that hose, too. Johnny covered himself with the gown and pulled the sheet up. He pulled the nasal cannula down and scratched his nose, then uncurled some I.V. tubing that had wrapped around his wrist. Man, I hope they let me eat soon. He scratched his chest where it itched and burned beneath the bandages.

I can’t believe I’ve been out for three days. It’s like it happened a few minutes ago. I’ll never forget seeing Brice’s brother standing there with the gun. I couldn’t believe that little tirade about his parents. I would’ve thought Brice had Ozzie and Harriet for parents. Man, his brother was one screwed up kid. Yeah, Gage, he was so screwed up, he hung himself in his jail cell. I’m just glad Gary and Marjorie got out of it with only a few cuts and bruises.

Johnny sighed and winced. You did the best you could.

No. If I had done my best, he wouldn’t have hung himself.

There you go again, trying to save the world. Always the hero, just like Josh screamed at you. Johnny jumped slightly as a hand brushed against his own.

"I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. One of your leads popped off." The nurse was an attractive, raven-haired young woman with coal-black eyes.

I’ve never seen her before, or have I?

"I’m Sarah, and I’m your nurse for the evening."

"Hi." Johnny smiled weakly. "Sorry, I was a million miles away," he rasped. "What time is it, anyway?"

Sarah looked at her watch. "A little after five. You slept most of the day." She shook a thermometer. "Your folks went back to your place for a while. They said they’d be back later. They were going to call your brother Dave about something. Right now, I need to take your temperature and do a quick exam." Sarah placed the thermometer in Johnny’s mouth and listened to his lungs with her stethoscope.

Doctor Brackett entered the room as Sarah wrote down her findings on the flowsheet. Fatigue lined his features. He wore a pair of rumpled blue surgical scrubs beneath his white lab coat. "I see our star patient is finally awake. How are you feeling, Johnny?"

Johnny pulled the thermometer out so he could answer. "Pretty tired, and kinda sore." He set the thermometer under his tongue.

Doctor Brackett closely examined the bedside chart over Sarah’s shoulder. "Everything looks good. Sarah, has he been behaving himself?"

"He’s been the perfect gentleman." she said with a half smile.

"You must be tired." Doctor Brackett grinned and gestured to the thermometer. "Normally you’re checking out the nurses when they’re checking you out."

Johnny blushed and pulled the sheet a little higher over his chest.

Brackett turned to Sarah. "How’s his temperature?"

Sarah took the thermometer out of John’s mouth. "100.4 degrees."

Doctor Brackett frowned slightly and pulled his stethoscope from his pocket. He listened to Johnny’s lungs and heart, and looked at the bag filled with urine. "This might hurt." Doctor Brackett pulled the tape from John’s chest.

Johnny winced slightly as Doctor Brackett palpated around the incision.

"It looks pretty good so far," Brackett pressed the dressing back into place. "Your breath sounds are equal, but I heard a little rattle. Start doing some coughing and deep breathing exercises."

John nodded. "Thanks, Doc. I appreciate everything you’ve done."

"It’s the least I could do." Doctor Brackett sat on the edge of Johnny’s bed. He shook his head. "It took a lot of guts to do what you did. I never would have guessed Craig Brice could have a brother who was that messed up."

"Neither did I. Especially since Craig is ‘Mister Perfect’." John mused. "I thought I was hallucinating when Josh mentioned Craig’s name." He shook his head. "I feel bad about it."

"About what?" Doctor Brackett twitched his mouth.

"About Josh hanging himself." Johnny shifted uncomfortably in bed. "I don’t know. Maybe if I hadn’t tripped him, it wouldn’t have ended like it did. Maybe he wouldn’t have killed himself. I almost reached him. Maybe he’d be alive right now if I’d kept him talking."

"He might be alive now, but you wouldn’t. If you’d spent much more time in that liquor store, you would’ve bled to death." He twitched his mouth and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his lab coat. "I know Doctor Morton’s already filled you and your parents in on what happened afterward. We almost lost you in the ambulance, and you had a bleeder that we had to go back in to repair a few hours after your first surgery."

Johnny picked at the sheet and nodded. "So I heard."

"No, Johnny," Doctor Brackett sighed, "you didn’t hear it all."

Johnny furrowed his eyebrows. "Go on."

"The bullet hit your ribs when it entered, and fragmented. It tore small holes in your lung, and nicked several blood vessels. It took a long time to find all of the fragments and cauterize the bleeding vessels. You dropped your blood pressure a couple of times during surgery, " Brackett sighed, "and for a while there, I wasn’t sure you’d make it through the operation." He shook his head. "When I called your family, I told them that I wasn’t sure you’d survive the night."

He set his jaw and looked at Brackett. "Doc, mind if I ask you something?"

Brackett shook his head. "No, go ahead."

"What did my father say when you told him how bad it was?"

"I don’t know. I didn’t talk to your father. Your mother answered the phone when I called."

"Oh." Johnny winced as he ran his hand through his unruly hair.

Doctor Brackett looked up as he heard his name paged over the loudspeaker. "I have to run. Listen, Johnny. Try not to feel too bad about Josh Brice’s suicide. Sometimes there are people you can’t help, no matter how hard you try." He stood. "From what I’ve heard, there wasn’t much anyone could have done. If you hadn’t tripped him, he would have probably killed both you and Gary Williams. It sounded like he was close to the breaking point near the end."

Johnny braced his side and grimaced as he coughed. "I guess you’re right, Doc. I keep telling myself the same thing, but somehow, I’m not sure I really believe it."

###

Sarah sat at the circular nurse’s station and wrote a progress note in Johnny’s chart. She looked up as the sound of footsteps echoed in the quiet unit. Sarah watched as the thin, sandy-haired gentleman with wire-frame glasses hesitated in front of the door to Gage’s room. This is the third night in a row he’s been here. Nice suit. He looks good in pinstripes. But, why a suit?

There he goes. First he tries to see through the blinds. Now he’ll start to knock on the door, but doesn’t. Yep. I have to talk to this guy.

The man removed his eyeglasses and cleaned them with a pressed handkerchief. He neatly folded the handkerchief then returned it to his suit pocket. He put his glasses on and rested his hand on the door. The man shook his head and walked towards the elevator.

"Can I help you?" Sarah intercepted the mystery man.

"I just wondered how John Gage was doing." The gentleman pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "He appeared to be sleeping, and I didn’t want to disturb him. Ah, we work together."

"He’s doing better. You can go in if you’d like," Sarah replied. "I’m sure he’s still awake. Some of his buddies left a few minutes ago."

The gentleman sighed in relief. "So he’ll be okay?" He started to speak more quickly. "The other night he went back to surgery, and he’s been unconscious for an extended period of time."

Sarah smiled and put her hand on the man’s arm. "Yes, he’ll be okay. Come and see for yourself."

The gentleman paled and shook off Sarah’s hand. "I...I can’t." The elevator doors opened. "I have a matter I need to attend to." He jogged to the elevator and stepped inside.

"Can I give him a message?" Sarah raised her voice slightly.

"No, thanks." The elevator doors closed.

Sarah shook her head and returned to her charting.

###

"The Dodgers welcome the Los Angeles County Fire Department" flashed on the scoreboard as Johnny, Sarah, Johnny’s brother Dave, his wife Linda and their son Danny filed into the row of reserved seats at Dodger Stadium. "These aren’t too bad." Johnny nodded approvingly. He supported the paperboard tray loaded with hot dogs and sodas with one hand, and pointed at the row directly behind them. "There’s Roy, Joanne and the kids."

Sarah smiled and waved. "Hi, guys."

"Hi everybody," greeted Dave. "It’s the upper deck," he looked back at Johnny, "but we’re not that high up. At least we’re not in the nose-bleed seats." He juggled his food-laden tray and checked the numbers on the tickets. "These must be ours, seats 16 through 18." He pointed to the three seats behind them.

"We have 14 and 15," Johnny read his tickets. He and Sarah sat down.

"Dad, can I sit between you and Mom?" asked Danny.

"Sure," Dave and his family took their seats. He passed a sausage to Danny. "Too bad we didn’t bring your mitt. This is foul ball territory."

"I’m glad you guys finally made it," said Roy. "I was starting to get worried." He sipped a cold beer.

"Traffic was heavy coming from the airport." John passed a hot dog and a soda to Sarah.

"Did your folks make their plane?" Joanne asked between bites of a greasy cheeseburger.

"They made it in plenty of time," John replied. "We stuck around to make sure it took off on schedule. Roy, Joanne, you remember, Dave, Linda and Danny, right?"

"We met at the picnic." Roy put his beer between his legs and picked up a chili dog from the tray Joanne balanced in her lap. "I think your mom makes better chili than Marco."

"Better not let Marco hear that, or you’ll be scrubbing pots for a week," Joanne joked. "It’s good to see you again, Sarah."

"Thanks," Sarah smiled as she wiped ketchup from her mouth with her napkin. She balanced the hot dog on one knee as she pulled a piece of paper from her purse. "Here’s the recipe I promised." She handed the paper to Joanne.

"Thanks, Sarah." Joanne put the cheeseburger in the tray on her lap and wiped her hands with a paper napkin. "That was one of the best potato salads I’ve ever had. Mine don’t normally turn out so well." She studied the recipe for a few moments and put it in her purse.

"The secret’s in the onions. You have to use the purple ones, and don’t use too much mayo," Sarah replied. "Oh, and you have to use the good stuff, not the generic mayonnaise." She watched as a sandy-haired man with wire-framed glasses stepped down the aisle of the next section of seats. A stunning blonde in tight shorts and tank top walked closely behind him. Sarah tugged at John’s shirt sleeve. "Hey, Johnny."

"Wha?" The hot dog in Johnny’s mouth muffled his reply.

"See that guy with the blonde," Sarah leaned closer to Johnny and pointed surreptitiously at the next aisle. "That’s him. That’s the guy I told you about."

Johnny looked in the direction of Sarah’s finger. He swallowed the hot dog. Hard. "Roy, isn’t that Craig Brice?" Who’s that with him?

Roy looked over. "That’s him. I wonder who the blonde is. She doesn’t look like his type."

Dave, Linda and Danny craned their necks to see.

"I don’t recognize her from Rampart." Sarah replied. "She looks..."

"Like a bimbo?" Linda interjected.

The women giggled.

"Mommy, what’s a bimbo?" Roy’s daughter tugged on her mother’s sleeve. Joanne whispered something into the little girl’s ear. The girl giggled and stuffed a French fry in her mouth.

Dave studied Brice and the blonde. Brice stood at the end of the row on the same level as Roy, while the other fans stood up. "He’s the brother of the guy that shot you?"

John nodded. "That’s him. I wonder why he would come to the hospital and just leave?"

"Yeah, that was pretty weird," Linda added.

"I don’t know," Sarah shrugged. "He seemed awfully worried about you." She sipped her drink. "I wonder if he’ll say anything to you."

###

"Amber, I believe these are our seats," Craig stopped at two chairs in the middle of the row and read his tickets.

Amber sat down and tugged at her shorts. She put her purse beside her and accepted the hot dog from Craig. "It’s a be-you-ti-ful day, Craiggie."

"It’s perfect weather for baseball." Craig sighed and handed a soda to Amber. "The wind is blowing in, which should make this a real pitching duel." Too bad Josh isn’t here. He used to love watching baseball, and going to games. He fought the catch in his throat and smiled at Amber.

"Is everybody in this section a fireman?"

"Yes, they are." Craig looked around at the surrounding spectators. He pointed to a distinguished-looking gentleman seated several rows ahead of them. "That’s Captain Hollander from Station 21. This is one of the most popular department-sponsored activities." Craig pointed to three men seated in the section to their left. "Those guys are from Station 38, and the two in front of them are from 110’s."

The public address system sprang to life, cutting off the conversation as the starting lineups were announced. Craig continued to scan the crowd. He stopped in mid-chew when he spotted Johnny laughing with Sarah and Dave. Gage. What’s he doing here? He’s only been out of the hospital for a few days. He should be at home, resting. I see he didn’t waste any time hitting on that I.C.U. nurse. He felt a sudden chill on the warm summer afternoon. I don’t blame him, though. She was very kind to me when I went up, the day of the funeral.

The crowd stood for the national anthem. Craig locked eyes with Johnny. Damn. Spotted. What should I say? Hi, how’re you feeling? Gee, I’m sorry my brother nearly killed you. I screwed up the most important task I’ve ever been given, and you nearly died because of it. Friends?

Johnny mouthed "Hi, Craig."

Craig hesitated, then started to mouth a reply, but stopped as the organ music faded. Phew. He sighed. I’ll have to talk to him eventually. At least I’ll have time to think of something...merely adequate to say. The crowd sat in unison as the Dodgers took the field.

###

"When do you leave for Montana?" asked Roy.

"Tomorrow," Johnny replied. "Dave and I are gonna pick up the horses Dad bought from Lieutenant Morgan. Then we’ll get these guys," he gestured to Linda, Danny and Sarah, "and hit the road." Pop actually asked me to come home. Maybe things’ll be different. Maybe he finally understands the reasons why I left. He sighed contentedly. It’ll be good to see everybody again. Letters and an occasional phone call aren’t the same as being there.

"Lieutenant Morgan sells horses?" asked Joanne.

"He had a couple of mares he needed to unload." Dave said. "Lou and his wife own a small farm. They plan to retire to Arizona in a few months, so they have to sell all their livestock. The Lieutenant and Dad really hit it off while they waited for Johnny to wake up."

"Wow," commented Joanne. "He never struck me as being the...pastoral type. He was all business when I saw him in the Emergency Room after the shooting." Joanne flashed a knowing look at her husband. "Sarah, I didn’t know you were going home with them."

"I didn’t either." Sarah turned in her chair. "Surprisingly enough, one of Johnny’s mom’s brothers lives near my parents. They’ve been practically neighbors for years. John’s mom had planned to visit next week, even before this happened. She discovered I couldn’t afford a plane ticket home until at least Christmas, so she offered to take me. This will be my first real vacation since I started at Rampart. I’m looking forward to it."

"Where are you from, again?" Joanne asked.

"Pine Ridge, South Dakota." Sarah crumpled the foil hot dog wrapper and placed it beneath her seat. "I’ve only been in L.A. six months, so I’m still a little strapped for cash. Johnny and I must have played together when we were kids."

"Yeah," Johnny interjected. "I used to spend part of the summer at my uncle’s place. I remember some pretty rough ball games. There was this girl who used to trip me every time I ran around third base." He pointed at Sarah at smiled. "I think it was her."

Sarah coughed as she choked on her soda. She grinned and poked Johnny’s arm with her index finger. "I only tripped you because I couldn’t stand that victorious little smirk on your face when you headed for home."

Joanne nudged Roy with her elbow, smiled, and gave him a "thumbs-up" sign. This could be the one!

Roy rolled his eyes. Don’t start, Jo. Johnny can find his own woman. Better change the subject, fast. "Boy, Johnny, it sounds like your parents made a lot of friends."

"They always do," John said. "I can only imagine what they told the guys at the station."

"Chet brought lunch for your parents quite frequently." Roy wiped his hands and put the napkin on his tray. He leaned over and placed the paperboard tray beneath the seat.

"Great," John sighed. "I hope they didn’t tell him any stories of my misspent youth, or I’ll be in real trouble when I get back to work."

###

Don Sutton retired the Giant batters in order. The Dodgers came out swinging in the bottom of the first. Davy Lopes led off with a double. Dusty Baker hit a single that advanced Lopes to third. Rick Monday walked, which loaded the bases. The count went to three and two on Steve Garvey. He fouled off the payoff pitch. The ball trailed into the seats.

###

"Here comes one," Roy said as the men stood and reached for the foul ball. It was just beyond the grasp of their outstretched hands. The ball dove into the next section. Amber shrieked as it hit Craig in the face. The ball ricocheted off the concrete floor and was caught by a boy seated in front of Craig.

Craig’s nose bled heavily, and his glasses were missing. He pinched his nose and tilted his head forward. Damn! It feels broken.

Roy sighed and looked at John. "Let’s go, Johnny."

"Right with you, Roy. Can I have your ice?" John asked Sarah as he stood.

"Do you want any help?" Sarah poured the melting ice chips into John’s cup.

"We should be fine," replied Johnny as he stood and shook the crumbs off of his shorts. "The Paramedics on stadium detail should arrive shortly. We won’t be gone long."

John and Roy threaded their way through the crowd gathered around Craig. Blood seeped through the napkin Craig held to his nose. He squinted as Roy and John knelt in front of him. Don’t tell me, Gage and DeSoto. Just great. I’m glad I can’t see Gage at the moment. I don’t know what I’d say to him.

"Nice catch, Craig." Roy greeted Brice. "Let me have a look at your nose."

"Vewy funny, Desoto," replied Craig as he tried to keep his nose plugged. "I tink it’s bwoken." He removed the napkin and dropped it into an empty cup held by his date. His nose was swollen and bruised. "Ouch!" Craig jumped as Roy palpated the bridge of his nose. Yep, it’s broken.

"Ewww. Does it hurt a lot, Craiggie?" asked Amber, grimacing.

"Well, Craiggie, I’d say your nose is definitely bwoken," Roy replied as he tried not to laugh.

Craig glared at him. Smart ass. I bet you’re just loving this.

Johnny looked beneath the seat and found Craig’s glasses. The impact of the ball had shattered one of the lenses and bent the frames.

"Here’re your glasses," Johnny said. He gently placed them on Brice’s face, then poured ice from his cup into a plastic wrapper. "Hold this." John balanced the makeshift icepack on Craig’s nose.

Craig glared at Roy. "At least somebody is twying to be helpful." He looked at Johnny. "Tanks, Gage." I’m surprised he’s even talking to me, let alone helping me.

Ed Newfield and his regular partner, Steve Beane, filed into the row, carrying their equipment. Ed smiled when he saw Roy and John kneeling in front of Brice. "Hey guys! Are you paying homage to Brice the Magnificent, or are you doing all of our work?"

Craig gave Ed a dirty look. Snot. You’re getting a real kick outta this, too.

Roy exchanged places with Ed. "Craig caught a foul ball with his nose. Johnny and I wanted to be sure he got seen by real paramedics before you clowns showed up. That way, all you had to do was transport him."

"You’re so thoughtful, Roy." Ed grinned as he set the drug box down. "If Steve and I had known you two were here, we would’ve stopped for lunch on our way over." He removed the icepack and palpated Craig’s nose and face. "Sorry, Brice, this will probably hurt."

Craig jumped when Ed touched the bridge of his nose and forehead.

Ed peered over at Roy. "You’ve been very helpful thus far. Why don’t you get on the horn to Rampart, and inform them of your great save."

Roy assembled the biophone and relayed a set of vital signs.

Steve grinned. "It’s good to see you up and around, Johnny. How do you feel?"

Johnny stood to make more room for Ed. "Not bad. I get pretty tired and a little winded after I do anything. Brackett said it’ll improve with time." He shrugged. "Let’s face it, I’ve only been home for a week."

"How long will you be out of work?" Steve handed some dressing sponges to Ed, who taped them to Brice’s nose.

"Possibly five or six more weeks. I have to see Brackett later this month. He’ll know more then."

Steve shook his head. "Hell of a way to get the rest of the summer off. Everybody in the department’s talking about it. I hear you’re being considered for a commendation."

Johnny put his hand up in a silencing gesture.

Steve continued. "You know, I never saw the waiting room at Rampart more crowded than on the night they brought you in. Between the cops, the reporters, the firemen, the other patients and their family members, you could hardly move. Even the Chief was there."

Johnny drew his finger across his throat. "Ahh, Steve."

"It really became a three-ring circus when 10 brought that wacko kid in from the jail." Steve blushed.

Johnny rubbed his face and looked away.

Steve apologized. "I’m sorry, Craig. I didn’t mean anything by it."

Craig bit his lip and said nothing. Just repeating the departmental gossip, I’m sure. I’ve heard the whispers, then the silence when I walk into the room.

The ambulance attendants carried the stretcher down the concrete aisle steps. Ed broke the uncomfortable silence. "Craig, we’re going to have to transport you to Rampart. You’re going to need x-rays of your face."

Craig shook his head defiantly. "You’re not twanspwoiting me anywhere."

"You really should go," Roy said sternly. "You could have other facial fractures that you can’t even feel. That ball hit you pretty hard."

"Yeah," added Amber, nodding earnestly. "You could have brain damage, and that wouldn’t be a good thing." Her statement was punctuated with a high-pitched, nervous giggle.

Johnny snorted and turned his head.

Craig raised his voice. "I said no! I don’t want Ed and his little pal taking me anywhewe. I’ll dwive myself." I don’t want any more fuel for those gossip-mongers.

"You’re in no shape to dwive, I mean drive," Ed said quickly. "The ambulance is here."

"I’ll bring your car," offered Amber.

Hmm, maybe this is my chance. "Okay. Dewe is one condition. You wide in fwont of the wig," Craig pointed at Ed. He cut off Ed’s protest, "I want Gage to wide in de back."

"Me?" Johnny said, stunned at Craig’s request. "Are you sure?"

Craig nodded. "Yeah. If dere’s any twouble, you can pull over and switch." He locked eyes with Johnny. Come on, Gage.

Johnny sighed and studied Craig’s face for a moment. He looks sincere, almost pleading. This’ll be very interesting. "Okay."

Roy lifted his eyebrows and flashed a "Do you really know what you’re doing?" look at his best friend.

Johnny raised his hand and nodded in response.

Ed and Steve helped Craig to his feet.

The spectators gave Craig a round of applause. The little boy thrust the baseball into Craig’s hand. "Here, Mister. I saved it for you."

Craig smiled and looked at the dirty, blood-stained ball. "Tanks, kid." He let Ed guide him to the end of the row. Craig sat on the stretcher and fingered the ball as the attendants secure the straps.

Steve gathered the equipment and headed towards the top of the stairs. Amber followed Steve.

Roy stopped John at the end of the row. "I’ll tell the others where you’re going." He paused. "Tell me one thing."

"What?"

"Why are you doing this?"

Johnny put his hands on his hips. "I need some answers. I have a feeling that if I don’t face him now, I’ll never get them."

###

The ambulance lurched as it pulled away. The bag of intravenous fluid gently swayed on the pole. Craig studied the baseball as he turned it over in his hands. He held it up to Johnny, who sat on the bench. "See dis, Gage?"

"I see it, Craig." John took the ball and ran his fingers across the stitching. "Are you going to get Garvey to sign it?"

"Maybe. Do you tink he would?" Boy, that would be cool. Josh would’ve loved an autographed baseball from Steve Garvey for his birthday. That would’ve been next week. Brice bit his lip, hard.

"Couldn’t hurt to try." John shrugged. "You did break your nose for it."

Here goes nothing. Craig felt as if a thousand butterflies were fluttering around in his stomach. "You know Gage, dat kid giving me the ball," he paused to catch his breath, "and your twying to shut Steve up, wuw the nicest tings tat have happened in a long time." Craig’s eyes grew misty, and he tasted blood as he swallowed. Don’t ruin this by getting emotional. He loosened the dressing on his nose and gently rubbed the throbbing pain above his eyes. I’m going to sound like Elmer Fudd, but it can’t be helped.

John gave the ball back. "Come on Craig, I don’t believe that."

"It’s twue," Craig replied. "I was weally suwprised when you came over to hep me." He raised his hand as John opened his mouth to speak. "No. I need to say dis. Pwomise you won’t tell anyone." He smiled thinly. "I have...a weputation to uphold." He coughed, then a slight groan escaped his lips.

"Okay," John nodded. "Only if you let me say something, too."

Craig nodded. "It’s a deal." He’ll probably tell me off, and I don’t blame him. "I’m suwprised you don’t hate me for what happened." Craig gulped as he breathed through his mouth. "It’s all my fault."

John lifted an eyebrow.

Craig continued, " I have to apologize for my ineptitude. I failed Josh and I failed you when it mattered the most." Phew. I said it. He braced his nose as he coughed.

Johnny opened his mouth to protest, but closed it when Craig raised his hand.

"You pwomised to let me finish." Craig paused to catch his breath. "I twied to talk some sense into Josh, but I failed." He shook his head. "I twied to be suppowtive of his painting, his life, but I wasn’t. I tought it was just anudder kick he was on. I let him go back into dat store without me." He rubbed his aching eyes. "I could have, should have insisted dat he let me inside, but I didn’t." He opened his eyes and peered at Johnny as he gulped in a few breaths. "I know I could have gotten twough to him if I had twied harder."

The words continued to tumble out. "De time Josh needed me de most, I ignowed him." Craig ran his finger over the stitching of the baseball, as he paused to take a few more breaths. Damn, this hurts. My mouth is getting so dry. I wish I’d saved some ice. "I didn’t let him live wit me when he moved out of my parents’ house. I tought I was doing the wight ting by fowcing him to be mowe independent. He needed to find out what it was like to suwvive in de real world. Josh never had much diwection in life." Craig braced his nose as he coughed again. "He was always going from one ting to anudder, den having somebody bail him out when his initial plan didn’t succeed."

He paused to gulp some breaths. "When I found out he was on dwugs, I could have gotten him into tweatment. Vince found him fow me, and told me whewe he lived, where he hung out." Craig licked his lips to moisten them. He paused, and a frightened look crossed his face.

"What’s wrong, Craig?" asked Johnny in alarm. He leaned forward and looked frantically for the suction equipment.

Craig shook his head, and covered his mouth as he burped loudly. He closed his eyes momentarily and rested against the back of the stretcher.

Johnny sighed in relief, and suppressed a smile.

Craig rubbed his eyes, and opened them. "I could have gone to see Josh, but I didn’t. I kept putting it off. I could have talked to Doctow Bwackett or Doctow Eawy and awwanged for wehab, but I didn’t. In a way, I let him shoot you twough my own inaction."

Johnny sat silently on the bench. Wow. He’s tellin’ me his whole life story. He must really be upset about this.

"I’ve had nightmawes about de shooting," Craig continued. "You’we lying on de gwound, dying. Josh stands there, pointing his gun at you, begging me for hep. I can’t weach him because I can’t move." He paused to catch his breath. "He feels youw neck and yells to me ‘See what you did? He’s dead and it’s all youw fault! You made me do dis!’ Den Josh shoots ‘imself in the ‘ead."

"I’ve nevew failed at someting dis important," Craig reflected, his expression clouded with guilt and shame. "I was the pewfect one. We had to be pewfect so Mudder and Fadder could show us off. My fadder was a fiwefightew, but fow yeaws, my mudder mewely tolewated his caweew choice." He paused to gulp in air. "Once he weached wetirement age, he got out," Craig massaged his aching eyes, "and ‘moved up in life’ as my mudder put it." Craig coughed, and paused for a moment. "Fadder used a small inhewitance and some savings to open an accounting fiwm. Den, my pawents joined a countwy club fow duh business contacts. Once my pawents saw de accomplishments of dewe new fwiends’children, we had to become ‘model offspwing’ they could take evewywhewe."

Craig wrinkled his face at the memory, and rubbed his eye. "Josh wasn’t de pewfect son, and dey couldn’t stand it. If he did someting good, it was usually de wrong ting. Fadder wanted us to be spowts staws." He paused to gulp in a few breaths. "Josh wasn’t any good at spowts. He was bettew at other tings, like art and music. My pawents...couldn’t appweciate it." He swallowed and licked his lips. "Dey needed weal accomplishments to bwag to dewe fwiends about at de Countwy Club. Craig, de baseball and twack star, was acceptable." He paused to gulp in air. "Josh, de designew of a muwal at de high school, wasn’t. I tought dat if I was the model child, Josh would come awound." He paused and shook his head. "It was de only way I knew to help him. Do you know what dat’s like?" Craig squinted at Johnny, and caught his breath. "I did so many tings because my pawents wanted me to, not because I wanted to!"

John shook his head. "I was never the model child."

"So I’ve heawd." Craig grinned slightly as he caught his breath. "De last time I saw Josh was at de jail. When he asked whewe ouw pawents wewe, I had to tell him dat Mudder and Fadder had disowned him." He rubbed his eyes quickly. "I couldn’t lie to him. I pwomised him dat I would pay fow an attowney." Craig gulped more air. "I told him I’d get him de help he needed. He didn’t say a wowd. He just sat dewe. I didn’t want to go home, so I went to Rampawt." Craig paused to breathe. "I sat in de cownew of de waiting woom and twied to stay out of de way. I don’t tink any of de guys even noticed that I was dewe. I wanted to tell DeSoto and de guys how sowy I was, but I couldn’t." Craig slapped his thigh with his fist as he gulped in more air. "I fwoze. Den I saw Wick and Dave wheel in Josh. I knew he was gone de moment I laid eyes on him. Dix and Doctow Eawly let me stay in de tweatment woom while dey wowked on him, but it was too late."

Craig shook his head and paused to breathe. "I don’t know why, but I felt dwawn to Rampawt. De night after your suwgewy, you bled out. You wewe getting blood and fluids left and wight to twy to bring youw blood pwessuwe up." Craig paused to breathe and rub his eyes. "I watched fwom outside of youw woom. I couldn’t see much, but, I wasn’t sure you wewe going to make it." He paused to breathe. "I don’t tink Bwackett was, eider."

Craig moistend his dry lips. "You wewe so alone. DeSoto and his wife had gone home. Nobody fwom de station was dewe. Your family hadn’t awived yet." He paused to breathe. "I wanted to go in and be dewe for you." Craig shook his head. "I couldn’t. I wanted to tell you to hang in dewe. I couldn’t." Craig gulped in air. "I don’t know why." Craig furrowed his brow. "I was...afwaid. I don’t know of what."

Brice, afraid? Johnny studied Craig’s face. He’s not lying. I can see it in his eyes.

"I ducked into the cownew as Doctow Bwackett, youw fwiend Sawah, and de Anestesiologist took you to de Opewating Woom. De next mowning, Miss McCall found me sleeping in de Doctow’s lounge." Craig paused to take in some breaths. "I made hew pwomise not to tell anyone. She told me you had made it twough suwgewy and offewed to buy me bweakfast." Craig paused to gulp in more breaths. "I couldn’t stay. I had to be the ‘pewfect son’ and suppowt my gwieving pawents. My mudder was upset about Josh. My fadder..." Craig shrugged his shoulders. "Dey blame Josh, of couwse, and society. Dey don’t see what dey did wong."

Craig coughed, and closed his eyes for a moment. He opened his eyes, licked his lips, and continued. "Anyway, I went back to Wampawt a few mowe times. I always went late in de evening, hoping no one else would be dewe. I ovewheawd youw pawents weminiscing while dey sat at youw bedside." Craig gulped in several breaths. "I stood outside the doow and listened. I couldn’t go in. I felt like an intwuder. I passed youw fadder in de Men’s room de night he awived. I could tell he’d been cwying. I wanted to intwoduce myself, and tell him dat I was sorry." Craig paused to breathe. "I couldn’t. My fadder nevew cwied for Josh, not even at de funewal."

Craig swallowed and moistened his lips. "It was the same ting evewy night. I wanted to see you, but I didn’t have de newve." Craig shook his head and wiped an unshed tear from his eye. "I’m sowy, fow everyting." The ambulance slowed as it turned a corner. "Tell me one ting."

"What?" John leaned against the wall of the ambulance.

"Did you weally shave youw dog?"

Johnny nodded sheepishly. "Yeah. Bubba was a friendly, stupid, hairy kind of mutt that helped us with the herds. It was really hot one afternoon, and he just stood in the yard, panting. He looked pretty pathetic. My brother, Mike, said that his coat looked a little shaggy, and maybe Bubba’d be cooler if he had a haircut like the one my mother had just given me." Johnny blushed. "So, I went in the house and grabbed one of my dad’s old razors. The rest is history."

Craig grinned. "Okay, Gage, it’s youw tuwn."

Johnny took a deep breath. "This stays between us. I also have a reputation."

Craig nodded solemnly.

"I wanted to thank you, and apologize," said Johnny.

Craig raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"I never expected to see you deliver that pizza." John said. "You tried, Craig. You tried to help Josh, me, and Gary. You didn’t have to do that, and I appreciate it."

"Josh cared about you," John continued. "I think he even admired you, but he was very jealous of you. You almost reached him, but he was pretty strung out." John shook his head. "You know, I think if you’d insisted on coming in, he would’ve shot you, too." He glanced at Brice, then studied the I.V. bag. "I tried. I told him you bragged about his artwork, that you cared about him. It didn’t do any good. I’m sorry."

Johnny sighed, and rubbed his hands on his thighs. "I didn’t know what else to do. He got more agitated as time went on. I knew I wasn’t gonna be able to stay conscious for much longer, and Josh looked like he was going to lose control. So, I tripped him. Maybe I shouldn’t have." Johnny shrugged and glanced at the floor momentarily. "Maybe I should have given him more time, but I didn’t want anything to happen to Gary." Johnny sighed. "You know, I’ve had nightmares myself. I figured you blamed me for his suicide."

"I don’t blame you." Craig shook his head, then grimaced. "You did what you had to do." He paused as the ambulance stopped. "So, tings are...okay between us?" Craig asked cautiously as he extended his hand.

"Yeah, Craig. Tings are okay." A grin spread slowly up John’s face as he shook Craig’s hand. "Tell me one thing."

"What?"

"Where did you ever find that blonde?" John asked incredulously.

"De pwoduce section of de supewmawket." Craig rolled his eyes. "She asked me how to tell if de melons wewe wipe. I had a weak moment."

John laughed and shook his head.

The ambulance door opened. "Is it safe?" asked Ed as Johnny climbed out. Ed and the ambulance attendant pulled the stretcher from the ambulance.

"Perfectly," Johnny answered as Ed and one of the attendants pulled the stretcher onto the pavement. They raised the stretcher, and entered the Emergency Department. "Room Two. Hi, Johnny." Dixie smiled as she held the treatment room door open. "Since when did shorts and a T-shirt become the official paramedic uniform?"

"Since the paramedic got drafted by a line drive foul off a nose in the next section." Johnny laughed. "Craig asked me to come in with him."

Dixie looked surprised. Carol walked past the treatment room. "Carol, could you take over in here?"

"Sure, Dixie." Carol flashed a smile at John and entered the treatment room.

Dixie led Johnny to the base station, and poured him a cup of coffee. "You didn’t kill him?"

"No, Dix," John shook his head and took a sip. "I didn’t."

"Did you make peace?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah," John said solemnly. "We have an...understanding. I discovered a lot of things about Craig Brice." He raised his eyebrows and shook his head. "More than I ever expected."

"Think this will change how you two get along?" Dixie asked as she sipped her coffee. "You’re normally at each other’s throats."

Johnny shrugged. "Who knows?"

Ed clapped Johnny on the shoulder, causing some of the coffee to spill onto the floor. "Ready to go back?"

Johnny took a napkin and crouched to wipe the spill. "Yeah, I’m ready." He put the mug down on the counter, and lobbed the napkin into a nearby trash can. "See ya later, Dix." John and Ed met Steve at the treatment room door.

"Hey, Johnny!" Dixie called.

Johnny stopped and turned around. "What?"

"What ever possessed you to shave your dog?" Dixie leaned over the counter and smiled.

A pained look crossed Johnny’s face. "What else did my mother tell you?"

Dixie shrugged her shoulders. "I’ll never tell. That would be a violation of nurse-mother confidentiality."

Johnny groaned.

"You shaved your dog?" Ed asked incredulously.

"I...I was a kid at the time," Johnny blushed and started to walk away. "I don’t wanna talk about it." He waved a hand dismissively at them and headed for the exit.

Ed and Steve looked at each other, and laughed. Ed patted Johnny on the shoulder as the three turned the corner to leave.

Author’s note: Thanks to my beta readers, Carol and especially Margaret-Anne.