Little Boy Lost
Part Eight
by GCS
DISCLAIMER: "Emergency!" and its characters © Mark VII Productions, Inc. and Universal Studios. All rights reserved. No infringement of any copyrights or trademarks is intended or should be inferred. This is a work of fiction, and any similarity to actual persons or events is purely coincidental. This story is only written for entertainment. No financial gain is being realized from it. The story, itself, is the property of the author.
Johnny settled quickly in his makeshift bed. He draped his arm over his eyes and dropped off quickly. HIs dreams started pleasantly, with memories of meeting Mr. Wong and Ms. Sanders, getting a job and apartment and of his new friends, Jimbo and Rita.
Then his dreams took him back to the alley, back to the sounds.
Plink… thunk… plink… thunk…
He was in a painful haze and felt unbearably cold. He shivered uncontrollably and tried to open his eyes, but all he saw was blackness. A darkness that was so inky black, he couldn’t see past his nose.
Plink… thunk… plink… thunk…
He squeezed his eyes tightly, trying to stop the inky blackness from swallowing him up, but he couldn’t stop it. The darkness seeped into his skin, raced through his veins and to his heart.
His heart beat faster. His breathing came in pants. The dreams swept him back to another dark time. Back to when he was a young boy, sitting in a courtroom, in a large wooden chair that was much too big for such a small boy. He felt little, exceedingly small and alone.
The tall ceilings and windows mocked his small size making him feel even less. The beautiful colors in the windows had heavy black lines that fractured any hope of the gaiety bright colors usually brought. As Johnny looked at the dark lines, he thought they somehow represented how broken his world had become. Nothing made sense anymore, and the thought of what was going to happen to him, where he would go, and would anyone ever love him again, gripped his heart.
The oversized desk at the front of the room loomed tall and foreboding. He couldn’t help but wonder why it needed to be so big and tall compared to all the other furniture in the room. It reminded him of a throne where someone royal might sit, except it was dark and very heavy. Not at all like a place someone kind would sit while leading their kingdom and caring for the people. No, this desk spoke of a strong hand, a place where not so good decisions might be made.
He didn’t understand the things the people in suits said. He didn’t understand why they were sending him to that place. He hadn’t done anything wrong. He wanted to ask them. He wanted to tell them that he just wanted to go home. But he hadn’t spoken since… since it happened. He wasn’t even sure if he could anymore. He looked down at his hands and tried to sink into himself to a place in his memory, a place he felt safe and loved. The noises in the big room seemed to fade into a buzzing hum like bees flitting from flower to flower for nectar.
Bang… bang… bang…
The sound echoed in the big room. The hum of voices immediately silenced. The tall, suited man beside him yanked him up by his arm. He stumbled to his feet and flinched when the big wooden chair screeched across the floor behind him. His legs trembled. He was barely able to stand after the man let his arm go. He shivered. Not from cold. He shivered in fear, fear of what the man banging on the huge dark desk was about to say. Was he being sent to that place they spoke of?
The dark haze seeped in again, blacking out the scene in the courtroom. He floated alone for a time, in the darkness. Then he was alone in another big room. This room had only one window at the end of the long row of small beds. The only link to the outside was heavily draped with a dark curtain, blocking out any hope of light. No more could he see the sunlight that filtered in past the dark black lines and through the colored glass in the courtroom. Now the darkness had consumed his world.
He shuddered in his sleep. His arm came down from his eyes and his hands gripped the edge of the blanket. “No, I don’t want to be here,” he whispered. He squeezed his eyes again, trying to clamp out the memories. “No… no.” He tossed and turned over on his side, curling into himself.
Bang! A car outside backfired. Johnny shot up to a sitting positing, shouting in a strangled voice, “No, don’t send me back.” He looked around the empty room. His eyes landed on the window, and the heavy curtain that covered it, blocking out any hope of sunlight. He shuddered. He was covered in sweat from the bad dreams and the gentle breeze from the fan was making him cold. He untangled himself from the blanket, got to his feet, on shaky legs and pulled the cord to stop the blades on the fan from circling. He wrapped his arms around himself and stood in the middle of the room for a few minutes trying to slow his breathing. His mind was cloudy with feelings. Feelings of anger. Feelings of hurt. Feelings of hope that had started with the kindness of Officer Brewster and then his aunt and uncle. He turned away from the darkness that sometimes threatened him in his dreams and reminded himself that the life from his bad dreams was his past, and yesterday he had started a new life.
He decided to clean up and try to get some more sleep before he had to get up and start his new job. He ran hot water into the tub, stepping in as soon as it was full enough and began washing away the sticky feeling waking up from a nightmare left behind. He really preferred showers, but until he got a curtain, that would have to wait. He quickly dried off, pulled on his sweatpants, and laid back down in his makeshift bed, only this time he had opened the heavy curtains and cracked the window open. Light would come in as the sun rose. The open window would let in the freshness of morning.
Johnny thought back over how he’d felt coming into his apartment the night before. He knew it was silly to be so enamored with having his own hangers and playing with the ceiling fan, but it was his first apartment, the first place he could call his own. He finally felt like he could be happy again. Happy like when he was a small boy, with two loving parents, safe like Officer Brewster had made him feel, and strong like his aunt and uncle taught him to be. He drifted off peacefully and slept well for the rest of the night.
Morning dawned bright.
Sunlight streamed into the room and across Johnny’s face. He stretched his long arms toward the warmth, pointed his toes until they peeked out from beneath the blanket. He’d slept well after washing away all traces of his nightmare. He got up, dressed quickly, brushed his teeth, and drank the cold water he’d put in the refrigerator the night before. Refilled the cup and placed it back on the shelf to get nice and cold. He wanted to be on time for work, but before that, he planned to look around the property to see what kind of work the lawn needed. Part of his agreement with Ms. Sanders was that he would help with the lawn work. That was something he knew how to do and do well. He hurried across the balcony and down the stairs after making sure he had closed the window in his bedroom and locked the door to the apartment. He didn’t have much but didn’t want anyone getting in and taking what little he did have.
A quick look around, left him doubting his own ability to make the place look better. Without some grass seed, mulch, and plants about all he could do was cut the grass, edge, and clear out the weeds. He wondered what lawn tools Ms. Sanders had to work with. He glanced up at the sun, figuring it was around 7 o’clock by the angle of the sun. It was too early to try to talk to Ms. Sanders, so he would have to wait until after work. He decided to walk on over to the store. He was a little early, but that was ok. He didn’t have anything else to do. He shrugged his shoulders and turned toward the sidewalk. As he passed Ms. Sander’s door, it opened. “Oh, Johnny.” She smiled. “I saw you out her and was just coming out to bring you this.” She handed him a brown bag. “I thought you might not have had time to get any groceries, and so I made you a sandwich for lunch. I put in some cookies I baked, and an apple.”
Johnny took the bag, opened it, and looked inside. “You didn’t have to do that. I, uh, I don’t want to make any trouble for you.”
“Oh, honey, it was no trouble. No trouble at all.” She patted his arm. “It felt good to have someone to think about besides myself. It’s been pretty lonely around here, since my…” She placed her hand on the side of her face. “Oh.” She sniffled. “Oh, I don’t mean to be sad. It’s just…”
“Thank you,” Johnny curled the top of the bag closed and reached out with one arm, wrapping it around Ms. Sander’s shoulder and pulling her into a quick hug. “I really appreciate it.” His stomach growled. He blushed. “I didn’t have time to get any groceries.”
“Do you have time for breakfast?” Ms. Sanders asked. She pointed over her shoulder. “I made biscuits and gravy. I have plenty. I haven’t learned to make just enough for one, so…” She shrugged. Then she opened the door wider and turned toward her kitchen. “Come on in. I’ll just plate up some real quick.”
Johnny stood in the doorway with a protest dying on his lips. The smell was inviting and made his stomach growl again. “I… uh, um, well.” He rubbed his empty stomach. “I guess.” He slowly stepped forward.
“Well come on.” She waved him to the table. “You don’t want to be late. I’ll drive you down after you eat.”
“No, I have plenty of time. It’s not that far.” He protested as he slowly sank into a chair and breathed deeply of the hearty aroma. He looked down at the plate she placed before him. Not only were there biscuits and gravy, but sausage and scrambled eggs too. He looked up at Ms. Sanders who smiled back at him. He couldn’t help the crooked smile he gave her in return. He picked up his fork, and dug in. when he was finished, he rose to clear his place.
“No, you don’t.” Ms. Sanders took the plate from his hands. “You are my guest. I have plenty of time to clean up.”
“Ms. Sanders, do you have a lawn mower?”
“Yes, I have a storage room where all the lawn equipment is stored. I’ll show you when you get back from work. Now don’t you worry about dinner tonight either. We will eat first and then talk about the lawn. I’ll show you the equipment room and share with you my plans for the flower beds. I have some mulch and plants arriving in a few days.”
“You don’t need to feed me all the time. I mean, I’m grateful, but…”
“Nonsense, I’m a lonely old woman with too much time on my hands, and no one to tend to. If I cook for you now and again, it is because I want to. You can cook for me too if you take a notion to. All right?”
“Yes ma’am.” His crooked grin appeared once again. “I’ll do that.” He picked up the brown lunch bag. “I better get going.”
“Have a good day, sweetie.”
Johnny blushed again and headed to the door. “Thank you again for breakfast and lunch.” He raised the bag. “I’ll see you later.” He squinted as he stepped into the sunshine and closed the door behind him. He started down the walk at a swift pace that turned into a jog, and then a run. He was excited to get to work.
Then his dreams took him back to the alley, back to the sounds.
Plink… thunk… plink… thunk…
He was in a painful haze and felt unbearably cold. He shivered uncontrollably and tried to open his eyes, but all he saw was blackness. A darkness that was so inky black, he couldn’t see past his nose.
Plink… thunk… plink… thunk…
He squeezed his eyes tightly, trying to stop the inky blackness from swallowing him up, but he couldn’t stop it. The darkness seeped into his skin, raced through his veins and to his heart.
His heart beat faster. His breathing came in pants. The dreams swept him back to another dark time. Back to when he was a young boy, sitting in a courtroom, in a large wooden chair that was much too big for such a small boy. He felt little, exceedingly small and alone.
The tall ceilings and windows mocked his small size making him feel even less. The beautiful colors in the windows had heavy black lines that fractured any hope of the gaiety bright colors usually brought. As Johnny looked at the dark lines, he thought they somehow represented how broken his world had become. Nothing made sense anymore, and the thought of what was going to happen to him, where he would go, and would anyone ever love him again, gripped his heart.
The oversized desk at the front of the room loomed tall and foreboding. He couldn’t help but wonder why it needed to be so big and tall compared to all the other furniture in the room. It reminded him of a throne where someone royal might sit, except it was dark and very heavy. Not at all like a place someone kind would sit while leading their kingdom and caring for the people. No, this desk spoke of a strong hand, a place where not so good decisions might be made.
He didn’t understand the things the people in suits said. He didn’t understand why they were sending him to that place. He hadn’t done anything wrong. He wanted to ask them. He wanted to tell them that he just wanted to go home. But he hadn’t spoken since… since it happened. He wasn’t even sure if he could anymore. He looked down at his hands and tried to sink into himself to a place in his memory, a place he felt safe and loved. The noises in the big room seemed to fade into a buzzing hum like bees flitting from flower to flower for nectar.
Bang… bang… bang…
The sound echoed in the big room. The hum of voices immediately silenced. The tall, suited man beside him yanked him up by his arm. He stumbled to his feet and flinched when the big wooden chair screeched across the floor behind him. His legs trembled. He was barely able to stand after the man let his arm go. He shivered. Not from cold. He shivered in fear, fear of what the man banging on the huge dark desk was about to say. Was he being sent to that place they spoke of?
The dark haze seeped in again, blacking out the scene in the courtroom. He floated alone for a time, in the darkness. Then he was alone in another big room. This room had only one window at the end of the long row of small beds. The only link to the outside was heavily draped with a dark curtain, blocking out any hope of light. No more could he see the sunlight that filtered in past the dark black lines and through the colored glass in the courtroom. Now the darkness had consumed his world.
He shuddered in his sleep. His arm came down from his eyes and his hands gripped the edge of the blanket. “No, I don’t want to be here,” he whispered. He squeezed his eyes again, trying to clamp out the memories. “No… no.” He tossed and turned over on his side, curling into himself.
Bang! A car outside backfired. Johnny shot up to a sitting positing, shouting in a strangled voice, “No, don’t send me back.” He looked around the empty room. His eyes landed on the window, and the heavy curtain that covered it, blocking out any hope of sunlight. He shuddered. He was covered in sweat from the bad dreams and the gentle breeze from the fan was making him cold. He untangled himself from the blanket, got to his feet, on shaky legs and pulled the cord to stop the blades on the fan from circling. He wrapped his arms around himself and stood in the middle of the room for a few minutes trying to slow his breathing. His mind was cloudy with feelings. Feelings of anger. Feelings of hurt. Feelings of hope that had started with the kindness of Officer Brewster and then his aunt and uncle. He turned away from the darkness that sometimes threatened him in his dreams and reminded himself that the life from his bad dreams was his past, and yesterday he had started a new life.
He decided to clean up and try to get some more sleep before he had to get up and start his new job. He ran hot water into the tub, stepping in as soon as it was full enough and began washing away the sticky feeling waking up from a nightmare left behind. He really preferred showers, but until he got a curtain, that would have to wait. He quickly dried off, pulled on his sweatpants, and laid back down in his makeshift bed, only this time he had opened the heavy curtains and cracked the window open. Light would come in as the sun rose. The open window would let in the freshness of morning.
Johnny thought back over how he’d felt coming into his apartment the night before. He knew it was silly to be so enamored with having his own hangers and playing with the ceiling fan, but it was his first apartment, the first place he could call his own. He finally felt like he could be happy again. Happy like when he was a small boy, with two loving parents, safe like Officer Brewster had made him feel, and strong like his aunt and uncle taught him to be. He drifted off peacefully and slept well for the rest of the night.
Morning dawned bright.
Sunlight streamed into the room and across Johnny’s face. He stretched his long arms toward the warmth, pointed his toes until they peeked out from beneath the blanket. He’d slept well after washing away all traces of his nightmare. He got up, dressed quickly, brushed his teeth, and drank the cold water he’d put in the refrigerator the night before. Refilled the cup and placed it back on the shelf to get nice and cold. He wanted to be on time for work, but before that, he planned to look around the property to see what kind of work the lawn needed. Part of his agreement with Ms. Sanders was that he would help with the lawn work. That was something he knew how to do and do well. He hurried across the balcony and down the stairs after making sure he had closed the window in his bedroom and locked the door to the apartment. He didn’t have much but didn’t want anyone getting in and taking what little he did have.
A quick look around, left him doubting his own ability to make the place look better. Without some grass seed, mulch, and plants about all he could do was cut the grass, edge, and clear out the weeds. He wondered what lawn tools Ms. Sanders had to work with. He glanced up at the sun, figuring it was around 7 o’clock by the angle of the sun. It was too early to try to talk to Ms. Sanders, so he would have to wait until after work. He decided to walk on over to the store. He was a little early, but that was ok. He didn’t have anything else to do. He shrugged his shoulders and turned toward the sidewalk. As he passed Ms. Sander’s door, it opened. “Oh, Johnny.” She smiled. “I saw you out her and was just coming out to bring you this.” She handed him a brown bag. “I thought you might not have had time to get any groceries, and so I made you a sandwich for lunch. I put in some cookies I baked, and an apple.”
Johnny took the bag, opened it, and looked inside. “You didn’t have to do that. I, uh, I don’t want to make any trouble for you.”
“Oh, honey, it was no trouble. No trouble at all.” She patted his arm. “It felt good to have someone to think about besides myself. It’s been pretty lonely around here, since my…” She placed her hand on the side of her face. “Oh.” She sniffled. “Oh, I don’t mean to be sad. It’s just…”
“Thank you,” Johnny curled the top of the bag closed and reached out with one arm, wrapping it around Ms. Sander’s shoulder and pulling her into a quick hug. “I really appreciate it.” His stomach growled. He blushed. “I didn’t have time to get any groceries.”
“Do you have time for breakfast?” Ms. Sanders asked. She pointed over her shoulder. “I made biscuits and gravy. I have plenty. I haven’t learned to make just enough for one, so…” She shrugged. Then she opened the door wider and turned toward her kitchen. “Come on in. I’ll just plate up some real quick.”
Johnny stood in the doorway with a protest dying on his lips. The smell was inviting and made his stomach growl again. “I… uh, um, well.” He rubbed his empty stomach. “I guess.” He slowly stepped forward.
“Well come on.” She waved him to the table. “You don’t want to be late. I’ll drive you down after you eat.”
“No, I have plenty of time. It’s not that far.” He protested as he slowly sank into a chair and breathed deeply of the hearty aroma. He looked down at the plate she placed before him. Not only were there biscuits and gravy, but sausage and scrambled eggs too. He looked up at Ms. Sanders who smiled back at him. He couldn’t help the crooked smile he gave her in return. He picked up his fork, and dug in. when he was finished, he rose to clear his place.
“No, you don’t.” Ms. Sanders took the plate from his hands. “You are my guest. I have plenty of time to clean up.”
“Ms. Sanders, do you have a lawn mower?”
“Yes, I have a storage room where all the lawn equipment is stored. I’ll show you when you get back from work. Now don’t you worry about dinner tonight either. We will eat first and then talk about the lawn. I’ll show you the equipment room and share with you my plans for the flower beds. I have some mulch and plants arriving in a few days.”
“You don’t need to feed me all the time. I mean, I’m grateful, but…”
“Nonsense, I’m a lonely old woman with too much time on my hands, and no one to tend to. If I cook for you now and again, it is because I want to. You can cook for me too if you take a notion to. All right?”
“Yes ma’am.” His crooked grin appeared once again. “I’ll do that.” He picked up the brown lunch bag. “I better get going.”
“Have a good day, sweetie.”
Johnny blushed again and headed to the door. “Thank you again for breakfast and lunch.” He raised the bag. “I’ll see you later.” He squinted as he stepped into the sunshine and closed the door behind him. He started down the walk at a swift pace that turned into a jog, and then a run. He was excited to get to work.
