Little Boy
Lost
Part Five
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.
Chapter Thirteen
The boys ducked into the back door to the diner just as Pete and Jim reached the place where the alley met the main road. "Should we take them now?" Jim whispered.
"Not yet. For now we follow them…see what they're up to." Pete led the way to the same door the boys had just gone through.
Once inside the boys moved quickly around the room in search of something to eat. They had been watching Johnny cleaning up the mess they had created with their little surprise last night, so they knew he was there somewhere as was the guy that owned the place. The smallest in the group bumped against a pan that rattled noisily when it hit the one hanging next to it.
"Keep it down!" One of the others whispered harshly.
Jimbo heard voices in the kitchen…voices he didn't recognize. He rose slowly to a seated position and swung his feet to the floor careful not to make any noise.
Rita heard a noise in the kitchen and thinking it was Jimbo she smiled at the sleeping young man before turning to quietly walk to the swinging door that led back the way she had come. "Shhh…Jimbo, Johnny's…." Her words died on her lips when she came face to face with several angry teens. Instead of finishing the sentence a soft gasp escaped as she moved backwards into the center of the dining area.
Something woke him, but he wasn't sure what it was. Johnny raised his head and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. When his vision cleared his mouth fell open at the sight before him. The same group of guys that had taken his money and had tried to burn down Jimbo's diner were closing in on Rita. He leapt to his feet and quickly moved to put himself between them.
"Well if it isn't Johnny Gage." The ringleader taunted, but that didn't slow Johnny down. "What do you think you're gonna do, boy?"
"Leave 'er alone!" Johnny said as he pushed his back against Rita hoping she would step back out of harm's way.
"You think you can take all four of us boy?"
Jimbo had eased into the kitchen and stood near the window in the door to see what was going on. He didn't know if the boys had any weapons or not, so he was being careful. The last thing he wanted was for Rita or Johnny to get hurt or killed.
Pete and Jim had reached the open door and now stood on either side with their backs to the brick wall. Pete pulled his gun from the holster and unlocked the safety. Jim followed his lead and did the same. With guns raised they stepped quickly into the kitchen making a sweep.
"Whoa guys it 's just me!" Jimbo whispered with his hands raised.
Pete lowered his gun. When Jim hesitated Pete put his hand on the top of Jim's pistol and lowered it for him. "It's okay…he's a friend…it's his place."
Jimbo moved over beside the two officers. "There's at least four of them. Looks like teens. Don't know if they're armed or not. I'm pretty sure they're the ones who tried to torch the place last night."
The boys spread out to circle around Johnny and Rita. Not wanting them to get behind them where he couldn't watch them, Johnny stepped back practically pushing Rita to the wall. She stumbled a bit, and he reached his hand back for her. She used his arm to regain her footing.
"Look at you, boy…such a do gooder. Why are you helping that old hag anyway?" One of the boys stepped up and pushed Johnny's shoulder. Another stepped up on the other side and shoved him into Rita who was now against the wall. "S..s..sorry." Johnny stood up straighter and took a few steps away from her. He took a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure she was alright. She nodded at his unspoken question. Before he could turn back to face their attackers, he was slapped hard across the face. He stumbled, his hand reflexively cradling his jaw.
Jimbo, who had returned to the window in the kitchen door almost burst into the room after Johnny's head rebounded from the hard blow, but Pete grabbed his arm. "We still don't know if they're armed. We won't let it go too far, but we need to be careful."
"It's already gone too far." Jimbo declared through gritted teeth. "They already mugged him in the alley, and tried to burn down the diner. What the hell do they want?"
"They're street thugs, Jimbo. You know that. What do they want? Who knows! Probably for their parents to care…to come find them and take them back home or if their parents are no longer alive…for someone to come and take them in…give them a home. That's what they really want…a home."
"I know Pete, but that boy out there that they are attacking…he wants the same thing, but thinks it's too much to ask for. He's had a hard life. Harder than most anyone could imagine, but he's not trying to take it. He's trying to earn it. I can't just stand here and let them break him. I won't."
"You're not a cop anymore, Jimbo. Let us handle this." Pete put a hand on Jimbo's shoulder and squeezed. He raised his handgun again and nodded to Jim. "Ready?" Jim raised his gun at the ready and together they slipped into the room while the thugs were distracted by Johnny and Rita. Jimbo hurried over to the office and pulled out the center desk drawer. He grabbed some keys and bent over to the bottom desk drawer unlocking it and pulling out the pistol he kept there for emergencies. He might not be a cop anymore, but he still had the skills and training from the academy behind him. He planned on being ready if he needed to use them. He deftly loaded the gun and went back to wait by the kitchen door.
Another blow sent Johnny to the floor and left Rita to the hands of the thugs. "Come on baby….let's have some fun." Rita screamed and tried to pull away.
"Freeze!" Pete yelled above the fray. "Hands in the air!"
Everything happened fast. Three of the four stopped and raised their hands, but the fourth pulled a gun from somewhere and aimed it at Johnny. "You freeze Pig! Or he gets it."
Johnny stared up at the barrel of a small pistol.
"Not yet. For now we follow them…see what they're up to." Pete led the way to the same door the boys had just gone through.
Once inside the boys moved quickly around the room in search of something to eat. They had been watching Johnny cleaning up the mess they had created with their little surprise last night, so they knew he was there somewhere as was the guy that owned the place. The smallest in the group bumped against a pan that rattled noisily when it hit the one hanging next to it.
"Keep it down!" One of the others whispered harshly.
Jimbo heard voices in the kitchen…voices he didn't recognize. He rose slowly to a seated position and swung his feet to the floor careful not to make any noise.
Rita heard a noise in the kitchen and thinking it was Jimbo she smiled at the sleeping young man before turning to quietly walk to the swinging door that led back the way she had come. "Shhh…Jimbo, Johnny's…." Her words died on her lips when she came face to face with several angry teens. Instead of finishing the sentence a soft gasp escaped as she moved backwards into the center of the dining area.
Something woke him, but he wasn't sure what it was. Johnny raised his head and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. When his vision cleared his mouth fell open at the sight before him. The same group of guys that had taken his money and had tried to burn down Jimbo's diner were closing in on Rita. He leapt to his feet and quickly moved to put himself between them.
"Well if it isn't Johnny Gage." The ringleader taunted, but that didn't slow Johnny down. "What do you think you're gonna do, boy?"
"Leave 'er alone!" Johnny said as he pushed his back against Rita hoping she would step back out of harm's way.
"You think you can take all four of us boy?"
Jimbo had eased into the kitchen and stood near the window in the door to see what was going on. He didn't know if the boys had any weapons or not, so he was being careful. The last thing he wanted was for Rita or Johnny to get hurt or killed.
Pete and Jim had reached the open door and now stood on either side with their backs to the brick wall. Pete pulled his gun from the holster and unlocked the safety. Jim followed his lead and did the same. With guns raised they stepped quickly into the kitchen making a sweep.
"Whoa guys it 's just me!" Jimbo whispered with his hands raised.
Pete lowered his gun. When Jim hesitated Pete put his hand on the top of Jim's pistol and lowered it for him. "It's okay…he's a friend…it's his place."
Jimbo moved over beside the two officers. "There's at least four of them. Looks like teens. Don't know if they're armed or not. I'm pretty sure they're the ones who tried to torch the place last night."
The boys spread out to circle around Johnny and Rita. Not wanting them to get behind them where he couldn't watch them, Johnny stepped back practically pushing Rita to the wall. She stumbled a bit, and he reached his hand back for her. She used his arm to regain her footing.
"Look at you, boy…such a do gooder. Why are you helping that old hag anyway?" One of the boys stepped up and pushed Johnny's shoulder. Another stepped up on the other side and shoved him into Rita who was now against the wall. "S..s..sorry." Johnny stood up straighter and took a few steps away from her. He took a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure she was alright. She nodded at his unspoken question. Before he could turn back to face their attackers, he was slapped hard across the face. He stumbled, his hand reflexively cradling his jaw.
Jimbo, who had returned to the window in the kitchen door almost burst into the room after Johnny's head rebounded from the hard blow, but Pete grabbed his arm. "We still don't know if they're armed. We won't let it go too far, but we need to be careful."
"It's already gone too far." Jimbo declared through gritted teeth. "They already mugged him in the alley, and tried to burn down the diner. What the hell do they want?"
"They're street thugs, Jimbo. You know that. What do they want? Who knows! Probably for their parents to care…to come find them and take them back home or if their parents are no longer alive…for someone to come and take them in…give them a home. That's what they really want…a home."
"I know Pete, but that boy out there that they are attacking…he wants the same thing, but thinks it's too much to ask for. He's had a hard life. Harder than most anyone could imagine, but he's not trying to take it. He's trying to earn it. I can't just stand here and let them break him. I won't."
"You're not a cop anymore, Jimbo. Let us handle this." Pete put a hand on Jimbo's shoulder and squeezed. He raised his handgun again and nodded to Jim. "Ready?" Jim raised his gun at the ready and together they slipped into the room while the thugs were distracted by Johnny and Rita. Jimbo hurried over to the office and pulled out the center desk drawer. He grabbed some keys and bent over to the bottom desk drawer unlocking it and pulling out the pistol he kept there for emergencies. He might not be a cop anymore, but he still had the skills and training from the academy behind him. He planned on being ready if he needed to use them. He deftly loaded the gun and went back to wait by the kitchen door.
Another blow sent Johnny to the floor and left Rita to the hands of the thugs. "Come on baby….let's have some fun." Rita screamed and tried to pull away.
"Freeze!" Pete yelled above the fray. "Hands in the air!"
Everything happened fast. Three of the four stopped and raised their hands, but the fourth pulled a gun from somewhere and aimed it at Johnny. "You freeze Pig! Or he gets it."
Johnny stared up at the barrel of a small pistol.
Chapter Fourteen
Johnny's stare at the pistol didn't waver, but his mind raced with thoughts.
Memories of hunting with his father flashed; the popping noise guns made as the firing hammer struck sending the shell from its chamber and then the whizzing of the bullet slicing through the air toward the target…the victim.
He almost raised his hands to his ears in a reflex of his childhood actions to block out the thump of contact and gasp of terror as the projectile pierced flesh and ripped a deep hot trail of death. His thin frame shuddered as the echo of life's breath escaping the dying seemed to envelope his mind.
He despised guns. He had known even as a small boy that to bring food to the table, sometimes a gun was needed, but he preferred a bow and arrow or knife. Somehow they seemed more humane…less violent.
His eyes tracked from the pistol to the crazed eyes of the boy holding it and sorrow gripped his heart. Sorrow for the deep sadness he could see beyond the rage. Sorrow for the lost childhood and hope for a productive life. Sorrow for those around the two of them that would have to see the bullet pierce flesh…his flesh and rip through his body, because there was no way he would let him aim that gun at anyone else…unless of course he was dead.
Death didn't worry him though. If he died right there in Jimbo's diner, he could join his parents. He had been taught that the spirit never dies, but lives on.
Johnny slowly began to stand with his hands out; palms facing forward in a non-threatening way like his father had taught him when approaching a wounded animal.
"What are you doing?" the gun waved in his face and pointed back to his chest.
He didn't speak, but just continued up… moving slowly, cautiously while never breaking eye contact. He had to get on his feet. On his feet he could take action.
"Stop you idiot! I'll shoot! I will!"
Now on his feet he stood with his hands still outstretched; his face an emotionless mask. His father had taught him that others could read you by the emotion you showed on your face, so in order to maintain the element of surprise he had to learn to control what he showed. Johnny did well with schooling his features into a blank canvass, but his dad always said his eyes gave him away. To prevent his attacker from reading his eyes, Johnny diverted them to the pistol.
"You got a death wish boy?"
Johnny didn't move…didn't respond. He just stood…palms out…eyes down.
He shifted his eyes to see where the two policemen were and hoped they would do something fast when he made his move. The older man met his gaze for a second before Johnny looked back at the pistol again. He took a deep breath slowly through his nose and let it out through his slightly open mouth. Time seemed to stand still.
After several breaths he sidestepped toward the door and the police officers. "I'll go with you." He said softly.
"No…Johnny no." Rita reached out toward Johnny.
"Shut up! Both of you…just shut up! And you," He pointed toward Johnny. "Stop…don't move another inch. Do you hear me! Another inch and…" He raised the gun toward Johnny's head. "Bang…bang. You get me?"
Johnny stepped again, but then stopped. He had moved away from Rita, and that was his plan all along.
"Listen, we don't want anyone to get hurt here. You're in trouble, but don't make it worse on yourself. Just put the gun down." Pete tried to reason with the boy.
"Sure…just put the gun down and let you haul me to jail. No worries right? Are you crazy? I know what happens in prison, and I ain't goin' there."
Suddenly, Johnny lunged for the gun. He grabbed it, pushing it up toward the ceiling. The two boys shuffled and the gun moved up; then down and up again. A loud pop pierced the air followed by Rita's scream, and everyone held their breaths not knowing what the bullet had hit.
Pete and Jim dove into the fray to pull the boys apart and try to get the gun before another shot could be made. The other boys saw an opportunity to run and started toward the kitchen door when Jimbo stepped from behind the counter. "Freeze!" They stopped in their tracks and raised their hands. "Get down on the floor…hands behind your heads… and don't move."
Jim pulled the perp off of Johnny and slammed him face down on the floor pulling his hands behind his back and quickly cuffing him. Pete had gotten his hands on the pistol and moved it out of reach.
It all happened so fast that Johnny felt dazed and confused. His ears rang from being so close to the gun. Sweat made tracks through the dirt still on his face from his earlier cleaning efforts, but he felt chilled to the bone.
Rita dove for the young man who had risked his life to save hers. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him back from the cuffed boy even though she knew he couldn't hurt them anymore. Johnny felt himself being pulled back. He ached all over and felt exhausted…again. He sunk into the arms that held him, to rest.
Pete moved over to Johnny to check him for injury. "Are you okay?" He asked Rita who nodded. "What about him? Did he get shot?" He asked as he moved Johnny's arms and checked him for injury. "I think he's okay."
"Johnny?" Rita asked. "Sweetie…"
Johnny looked up at Pete. "'m okay." He rubbed his ear again.
"Ringing?" Pete asked.
"Yeah…hate that. It'll go away. Always does."
"You been close to guns before?" Pete smiled.
"Hunting with my dad…before…before he…he died." Johnny's face showed no emotion, but Pete could see such sadness in his brown eyes that he immediately felt his throat constrict and his eyes tear up. He blinked away the tears. "I hate guns." Johnny said softly then laid his head on Rita's arm. He just wanted to sleep.
Sirens could be heard approaching for the second time in less than 24 hours. Jimbo had called for reinforcements. Blue strobes flashed through the front windows of the diner announcing the arrival of more police. Jimbo unlocked what was left of the front door now made partly of wood to let them in, and in short order the would be thieves were herded into the backs of the patrol cars and whisked away.
"Johnny…" Jimbo knelt down next to Rita who still sat in the floor cradling the exhausted boy. "Can you get up?" Johnny squinted up at his new friend and started moving slowly. He hurt all over. Jimbo reached out to help him. Rita got to her feet as well. Together they managed to get Johnny up and moving toward a booth. "Sit down over here and let me check you out."
"I'm okay. Just tired."
"Sure you are." Rita chuckled. "Your face is a mess." Johnny smiled back at her. He was relieved that she wasn't hurt. He remembered that she had children and hadn't wanted her children to lose their mother as he had at such a young age. He sunk bonelessly into the booth. "You wait right here. I'll get some warm water to clean you up a bit, and then you need to get back in that cot in Jimbo's office." She pushed the bangs from his face. "You feel warm. I'll get you some aspirin too."
Jimbo sat down opposite Johnny. "You sure you're okay?"
Johnny coughed. "Well...not really…I mean I've been beat up…robbed…rained on… had a fire bomb thrown at me and a gun pointed in my face… but yeah. I survived. I'm fine."
"Well you look like hell!" Jimbo leaned back and laughed at his new friend. "But seriously, thank you."
Johnny looked down at the table. "Thank you."
"What are you thanking me for? You're the one who made the move that got the gun away from that nut case, and kept Rita safe."
"But you helped me first." Johnny looked around the room, at the burnt tile, the boarded up entrance and up at the new hole in the ceiling where the bullet had left a darkened spot around a ragged hole.
Jimbo followed Johnny's eyes until his own settled on the new mark on his ceiling. "So that's where it went." He looked back at Johnny who now looked across the table at him. "I am glad I could help you Johnny. Very glad to call you friend."
"Me too." Rita chimed in from where she had come back into the room with a bowl of water and several clean rags. "Very glad to call you friend." She walked over and placed the bowl on the table. "And now let's get you cleaned up and back in bed. Jimbo and I have a lot of work to do if we are going to be open by lunch today."
"Open?" Jimbo asked with a voice laced with doubt.
"Yes open." Rita put her hand on her hip. "You wouldn't let all his hard work cleaning up go to waste would you? I mean think of the stories you'll get to tell the customers. Why I would bet the place will fill up with people who are dying to know what really happened here. And if that brings them in, then we will be happy to take their money. We have a floor and a door to repair, and the quicker we get that paid for the better. Right?" She put her hand on Johnny's chin, gently raised his face toward the light and began erasing all traces of the terrible night they'd had.
"And a ceiling." Jimbo mumbled as he slid from the booth and headed toward the kitchen to start prepping.
"A ceiling?" Rita asked.
Johnny pointed up at the hole.
"And a ceiling." She repeated.
Memories of hunting with his father flashed; the popping noise guns made as the firing hammer struck sending the shell from its chamber and then the whizzing of the bullet slicing through the air toward the target…the victim.
He almost raised his hands to his ears in a reflex of his childhood actions to block out the thump of contact and gasp of terror as the projectile pierced flesh and ripped a deep hot trail of death. His thin frame shuddered as the echo of life's breath escaping the dying seemed to envelope his mind.
He despised guns. He had known even as a small boy that to bring food to the table, sometimes a gun was needed, but he preferred a bow and arrow or knife. Somehow they seemed more humane…less violent.
His eyes tracked from the pistol to the crazed eyes of the boy holding it and sorrow gripped his heart. Sorrow for the deep sadness he could see beyond the rage. Sorrow for the lost childhood and hope for a productive life. Sorrow for those around the two of them that would have to see the bullet pierce flesh…his flesh and rip through his body, because there was no way he would let him aim that gun at anyone else…unless of course he was dead.
Death didn't worry him though. If he died right there in Jimbo's diner, he could join his parents. He had been taught that the spirit never dies, but lives on.
Johnny slowly began to stand with his hands out; palms facing forward in a non-threatening way like his father had taught him when approaching a wounded animal.
"What are you doing?" the gun waved in his face and pointed back to his chest.
He didn't speak, but just continued up… moving slowly, cautiously while never breaking eye contact. He had to get on his feet. On his feet he could take action.
"Stop you idiot! I'll shoot! I will!"
Now on his feet he stood with his hands still outstretched; his face an emotionless mask. His father had taught him that others could read you by the emotion you showed on your face, so in order to maintain the element of surprise he had to learn to control what he showed. Johnny did well with schooling his features into a blank canvass, but his dad always said his eyes gave him away. To prevent his attacker from reading his eyes, Johnny diverted them to the pistol.
"You got a death wish boy?"
Johnny didn't move…didn't respond. He just stood…palms out…eyes down.
He shifted his eyes to see where the two policemen were and hoped they would do something fast when he made his move. The older man met his gaze for a second before Johnny looked back at the pistol again. He took a deep breath slowly through his nose and let it out through his slightly open mouth. Time seemed to stand still.
After several breaths he sidestepped toward the door and the police officers. "I'll go with you." He said softly.
"No…Johnny no." Rita reached out toward Johnny.
"Shut up! Both of you…just shut up! And you," He pointed toward Johnny. "Stop…don't move another inch. Do you hear me! Another inch and…" He raised the gun toward Johnny's head. "Bang…bang. You get me?"
Johnny stepped again, but then stopped. He had moved away from Rita, and that was his plan all along.
"Listen, we don't want anyone to get hurt here. You're in trouble, but don't make it worse on yourself. Just put the gun down." Pete tried to reason with the boy.
"Sure…just put the gun down and let you haul me to jail. No worries right? Are you crazy? I know what happens in prison, and I ain't goin' there."
Suddenly, Johnny lunged for the gun. He grabbed it, pushing it up toward the ceiling. The two boys shuffled and the gun moved up; then down and up again. A loud pop pierced the air followed by Rita's scream, and everyone held their breaths not knowing what the bullet had hit.
Pete and Jim dove into the fray to pull the boys apart and try to get the gun before another shot could be made. The other boys saw an opportunity to run and started toward the kitchen door when Jimbo stepped from behind the counter. "Freeze!" They stopped in their tracks and raised their hands. "Get down on the floor…hands behind your heads… and don't move."
Jim pulled the perp off of Johnny and slammed him face down on the floor pulling his hands behind his back and quickly cuffing him. Pete had gotten his hands on the pistol and moved it out of reach.
It all happened so fast that Johnny felt dazed and confused. His ears rang from being so close to the gun. Sweat made tracks through the dirt still on his face from his earlier cleaning efforts, but he felt chilled to the bone.
Rita dove for the young man who had risked his life to save hers. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him back from the cuffed boy even though she knew he couldn't hurt them anymore. Johnny felt himself being pulled back. He ached all over and felt exhausted…again. He sunk into the arms that held him, to rest.
Pete moved over to Johnny to check him for injury. "Are you okay?" He asked Rita who nodded. "What about him? Did he get shot?" He asked as he moved Johnny's arms and checked him for injury. "I think he's okay."
"Johnny?" Rita asked. "Sweetie…"
Johnny looked up at Pete. "'m okay." He rubbed his ear again.
"Ringing?" Pete asked.
"Yeah…hate that. It'll go away. Always does."
"You been close to guns before?" Pete smiled.
"Hunting with my dad…before…before he…he died." Johnny's face showed no emotion, but Pete could see such sadness in his brown eyes that he immediately felt his throat constrict and his eyes tear up. He blinked away the tears. "I hate guns." Johnny said softly then laid his head on Rita's arm. He just wanted to sleep.
Sirens could be heard approaching for the second time in less than 24 hours. Jimbo had called for reinforcements. Blue strobes flashed through the front windows of the diner announcing the arrival of more police. Jimbo unlocked what was left of the front door now made partly of wood to let them in, and in short order the would be thieves were herded into the backs of the patrol cars and whisked away.
"Johnny…" Jimbo knelt down next to Rita who still sat in the floor cradling the exhausted boy. "Can you get up?" Johnny squinted up at his new friend and started moving slowly. He hurt all over. Jimbo reached out to help him. Rita got to her feet as well. Together they managed to get Johnny up and moving toward a booth. "Sit down over here and let me check you out."
"I'm okay. Just tired."
"Sure you are." Rita chuckled. "Your face is a mess." Johnny smiled back at her. He was relieved that she wasn't hurt. He remembered that she had children and hadn't wanted her children to lose their mother as he had at such a young age. He sunk bonelessly into the booth. "You wait right here. I'll get some warm water to clean you up a bit, and then you need to get back in that cot in Jimbo's office." She pushed the bangs from his face. "You feel warm. I'll get you some aspirin too."
Jimbo sat down opposite Johnny. "You sure you're okay?"
Johnny coughed. "Well...not really…I mean I've been beat up…robbed…rained on… had a fire bomb thrown at me and a gun pointed in my face… but yeah. I survived. I'm fine."
"Well you look like hell!" Jimbo leaned back and laughed at his new friend. "But seriously, thank you."
Johnny looked down at the table. "Thank you."
"What are you thanking me for? You're the one who made the move that got the gun away from that nut case, and kept Rita safe."
"But you helped me first." Johnny looked around the room, at the burnt tile, the boarded up entrance and up at the new hole in the ceiling where the bullet had left a darkened spot around a ragged hole.
Jimbo followed Johnny's eyes until his own settled on the new mark on his ceiling. "So that's where it went." He looked back at Johnny who now looked across the table at him. "I am glad I could help you Johnny. Very glad to call you friend."
"Me too." Rita chimed in from where she had come back into the room with a bowl of water and several clean rags. "Very glad to call you friend." She walked over and placed the bowl on the table. "And now let's get you cleaned up and back in bed. Jimbo and I have a lot of work to do if we are going to be open by lunch today."
"Open?" Jimbo asked with a voice laced with doubt.
"Yes open." Rita put her hand on her hip. "You wouldn't let all his hard work cleaning up go to waste would you? I mean think of the stories you'll get to tell the customers. Why I would bet the place will fill up with people who are dying to know what really happened here. And if that brings them in, then we will be happy to take their money. We have a floor and a door to repair, and the quicker we get that paid for the better. Right?" She put her hand on Johnny's chin, gently raised his face toward the light and began erasing all traces of the terrible night they'd had.
"And a ceiling." Jimbo mumbled as he slid from the booth and headed toward the kitchen to start prepping.
"A ceiling?" Rita asked.
Johnny pointed up at the hole.
"And a ceiling." She repeated.
Chapter Fifteen
The warm water and tender way Rita washed his face reminded Johnny of his mother's soft touch. He had been a rambunctious toddler; finding trouble wherever he played, a bee sting, a rusty nail, anything that could scratch, stab or poke seemed to be right where he wanted to be. Things hadn't changed much. A slight smile spread across his face as he relaxed a little more with each brush of the warm cloth across his face and neck.
Johnny could hear Jimbo chuckle, and he cracked open one eye to see what was so funny. Jimbo was looking at him. "What's so funny?"
"You kid…you are."
Johnny squinted at his new friend.
Rita swatted at Jimbo with the wet cloth. "Leave him alone, Jimbo!" She admonished. "The boy's had a hard time."
Jimbo straightened and sobered from his laughter. "He's had a rough time? I've had a fire bomb thrown at me, a gun pointed at me and my diner…my poor diner is barely inhabitable!" His hand lashed out at the damage.
Instinctively, Johnny ducked. Jimbo's arm moved just over his head. The arm he had leaning on the table slid outward knocking into the bowl of water sending it skidding to the edge of the table and teetering half in mid air as the three watched in stunned silence. Before any of them could react, the bowl toppled to the floor spilling water across the clean floor. The loud splash of water and clanking roll of the metal mixing bowl echoed in the silence.
Seconds later the silence was again broken as Johnny, Rita and Jimbo burst into fits of laughter. The tension leaving their bodies as they laughed until they cried…or coughed in Johnny's case.
"Um...I...I mean.." Johnny coughed out; the smell of smoke, soot and cleaning fluids from his clothes reminding him of all the events of the last 24 hours.
"What's wrong, Johny?" Rita bathed his face and neck one more time.
"I...Uh...wh...where are my clothes?" Johnny asked shyly, his brown eyes looking from beneath his long lashes.
"Oh sweetheart, they're in my car. I washed everything for you. They were so wet and dirty."
Johnny immediately turned red. "You didn't have to do that. I could've done that at the laundry mat."
"Nonsense, I just threw them in my boy's things. It was no problem...no problem at all." Rita smiled to him. "I bet you would like to clean up some. Jimbo, help him to the restroom while I get his things from the car. That's why I parked in the alley to begin with." Her hand went to her mouth. "Oh my… the groceries!"
Johnny stood up...a bit wobbly. "I can help."
Jimbo grabbed his elbow to steady him. "I have a better idea. Why don't you help him to the bathroom, and I'll get the things from the car. We don't know how safe it is out there or if those thugs had accomplices waiting in the alley."
Realizing what he had just said and how parking in the alley had given those teens a way into the diner, Rita's face paled and she looked toward the kitchen with trepidation. "You don't think..."
Jimbo held up his hand. "No I don't, but I would rather you stay inside where it's safe." He patted her arm; she reached out to steady Johnny.
Johnny pulled his arm away and said too abruptly, "I can do it."
"Sure you can sweetie. How about I just walk along with you...just in case you need me?" She winked at Jimbo who coughed to disguise the chuckle that threatened to escape. They both had come to realize how fiercely independent Johnny wanted to be.
After cleaning up and getting into some of his own clothes, Johnny felt more like himself. When he came out, Rita and Jimbo were busy getting ready to open for lunch.
"Jimbo, the ice maker is on the fritz again." Rita said as she hoisted the pan she had just filled for the front ice bin.
"I'll check it is a minute." He continued slicing the onions he'd been working on.
Johnny quietly walked over and opened the side of the machine where the motor was. He looked around for a tool box, found one in the corner nearby, pulled out a couple of tools, unplugged the machine and started to work. In a few minutes he had the machine plugged back in and whirring like a top. When he looked up he noticed Jimbo and Rita smiling at him.
"I don't know how you did that, but there is no telling how much money you just saved me on a repairman. Thank you."
Johnny shrugged, returned the tools to the box and closed the lid. "My uncle taught me." The corners of his mouth turned up into a slight smile. "He taught me a lot before…before he died." The smile disappeared as quickly as it had come. "Do you need any help?"
Unable to stop the tears that beaded up in the corners of her eyes, Rita hurried back into the dining room dabbing at her eyes with her apron. "Guess I'll open up now."
"Everything's ready for the lunch crowd. Why don't you try to get a little shut eye?" Jimbo's voice sounded a bit gravely. He cleared his throat and wiped his eye with the back of his hand. "Darned onions."
Johnny nodded. His feet did feel like lead weights. He shuffled toward the office and his temporary bed. "Ok, then I'll get out of your way."
Jimbo sighed loudly, "I thought we had agreed that you would let me help you."
Johnny looked up. "I did…you have, but…"
"But what, Johnny, you are not going anywhere today…okay? Tomorrow, we'll talk again. I know I have no right to keep you here, but I can't just let you walk out of here barely able to protect yourself. What if those kids had friends? If word got out you helped the police with their capture…" He closed his eyes and slowly turned his head from side to side. "I don't even want to think about what might happen. So, we'll take things one day at a time. When you feel strong enough you are free to go." Johnny started to protest, but Jimbo's hand went up to stop him. "You are welcome here as long as you need it. No arguments." Jimbo turned back to the prep table. He had to figure out a way to keep the kid there for a few days, and he had to think fast. He turned back to Johnny who was still standing in the same spot with his mouth open. "How about you rest and then later…after the dinner rush, you can help me clean up."
Johnny's mouth closed and he nodded. Jimbo watched as he slowly made his way into the office and closed the door before letting out the breath he'd been holding. "Well kid…I guess I'll have to find more things for you to fix. That way you can 'earn' your keep." He said to the empty room as he scratched his ear. "Humph… Never saw a kid so bent on fending for himself."
