Little Boy
Lost
Part Three
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.
Chapter Seven
What he soon found out was that the feelings he had as a boy were correct. The world was a harsh and cruel place.
Like most seventeen year olds, Johnny had no real plan. He just thought boldly that he could go out there in the world; find a job and a place to live. He never considered that his age would be a deterrent.
Things didn't go so well for him on his own.
At seventeen it was hard to find employment.
At first he stayed with a few of his friends from track, one night at one house and then another while he worked different jobs. But since he had graduated early and they were still in school he no longer had much in common with his friends. He soon moved on.
He had many odd jobs he'd been forced to endure, flipping burgers over a hot grill had sucked not to mention the burns from the popping grease that speckled his forearms and the awful stretchy uniforms and ridiculous hat that made his head itch, pouring concrete was hot and dirty and he had ruined his shoes, walking dogs, even though he loved animals, had been the worst, because the owners insisted that he scoop up all of their deposits which he never understood, and he'd mowed more lawns than he cared to remember.
The one job he had wanted was not to be, at least not now.
Johnny stared at the desk clerk at the fire academy. "You don't make any exceptions? My aunt would give her permission."
"No," the middle aged motherly woman looked back at the young man. She could see the longing in his eyes and determination set in his brow, but the rules had been in place since the beginning of the department. "I'm sorry. You have to be eighteen."
"Thank you." He said softly as he turned and slowly walked to the double glass doors that he had hoped would lead him to his future. As he walked by the rows of framed portraits a shudder ran down his back. It was as if the men were staring at him, disappointed in him for trying to bend the rules. He ducked his head and pushed through the doors, bound down the stairs and retrieved his things that he had stowed in the bushes. He squared his shoulders, turned back to the building and declared in a soft statement, "I'll be back. In a year…I'll be back." Then he turned on his heel and started down the sidewalk in search of something else.
He needed a job, something that would pay well enough to afford him a place to stay even if he couldn't get any landlords to allow him to sign a lease because he wasn't of legal age.
As he walked down the long road back on the side of the road he found a wallet. Stooping down, he picked it up and looked inside. There was no money in it. 'I guess it was stolen.' He glanced around to make sure no one was watching him. There was an ID in the wallet. It said the dark haired guy in the picture was twenty one. Johnny studied the small picture. 'If they don't look closely…it could be me.' He ended up using the ID to rent a motel room for the night, but that cost a lot of money. He wasn't able to stay there more than a few nights, which wasn't really such a bad thing. During one night Johnny awoke to a strange sound. When he flipped on the light and leaned over the side of the bed he saw several roaches scurry across the floor and beneath the baseboards. He'd already noticed that the room had a distinct smell of age mixed with stale body odor, and now with the unwanted visitors he knew he would be moving on by morning.
After a short time Johnny found himself living on the streets of Los Angeles, sleeping in door alcoves and in dark alleys or parking garages if he could slip in unnoticed before they closed for the night. He only did that when it rained, because if nothing Johnny was honest to a fault. He just didn't know what else to do.
He would go by and visit his aunt regularly at first, but after a while he lost weight.
"Either you've gotten taller or you've lost weight." His aunt looked him up and down.
Johnny shuffled under her gaze. "Taller I guess." He tugged at the waist band of his jeans pulling them up from where they puddled at his ankles from sliding down his too thin hips.
His aunt smiled at him. "Well you are staying for dinner this time aren't you?"
"Yes ma'am." Johnny's stomach growled in anticipation of one of his aunt's home cooked meals. But soon after dinner he made his excuses and left. He was too late for the shelter, so he would need to find a place to sleep.
He didn't want his aunt to know things weren't going well for him so he opted to call her most of the time instead. He had found out that there were places that fed the poor and sometimes he could get to sleep on a cot if he got in line soon enough, so Johnny would get out early to do the landscaping and cutting work he had become proficient at. That way he could finish early enough to get a good place in line at the shelter. He often washed in the yard hoses before rolling them back up and putting them away. One thing Johnny hated was feeling dirty.
He had come to know several of the other shelter residents, some older men who he had started eating dinner with, Gus and Bobby. Johnny enjoyed listening to their stories, and they always saved him a seat.
One night he was late getting back to the shelter and the line was cut off before he got to the front. Like so many each night he was turned away to fend for himself.
As he turned away from the place of refuge he had an uneasy feeling like something bad was about to happen, but he shook it off as silly. He could find an alley somewhere and hold up for the night. No one would find him there. He would just have to work faster tomorrow so he wouldn't get locked out.
With that in mind he set out in the darkened streets of the city to find a place to bunk down for the night.
Johnny found a diner that was still open and he went inside to get some dinner. He didn't need much, just enough to tide him over until he could go back to the shelter for breakfast, maybe a burger and fries. He looked up at the sign above the door "Jimbo's Diner" graced the sign face. He slipped inside and shuffled over to the nearest booth. He slid his knapsack onto the bench and sat down. An older woman came over and took his order. Johnny knew this would take more money than he needed to spend if he hoped to get a permanent place to stay when he turned eighteen in a couple of months, but he was hungry. Maybe he would be able to pick up a couple of odd jobs to make up the difference on the weekend.
When his plate of food was placed on the table he noticed there was also a small salad and a piece of pie. He looked up at the man who delivered the food. "Um I…this is not…I only ordered the burger and fries."
"Well kid…it's like this. I'm about to close and I have all this pie that won't be good tomorrow so I was hoping you might help me by eating some of it." And then the man smiled, turned and walked away. He was behind the counter before Johnny had time to think of a response. He did the only thing he could do. He ate every bite.
When he got up to pay the waitress told him that it would only be three dollars. Johnny knew that was wrong. The hamburger alone was two. He tried to protest, but she wouldn't change the price, and she wouldn't accept any tip. Stunned at their kindness Johnny decided that the alley behind the diner might well be a safe hideaway. He slipped around to the side of the building and found a dry spot behind the dumpster. He was tired and his belly full. He spread out his blanket and folded his clothes to use as a pillow. It didn't take long for him to drift off to sleep.
He was awakened by voices.
When he sat up to investigate he found several guys that he had hung out with before. They were all street dwellers as they liked to be called. "Hey guys what's up?" He rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He noticed that it had started sprinkling. He began to gather up his things. He would need to find a place out of the rain.
The group of guys that had pretended to be his friends now only wanted the little bit of money Johnny had collected from cutting yards that week. He didn't keep much money. His aunt had opened him a checking account when he had moved to LA. He put most of his money there for safe keeping.
"Hand over the cash Gage!"
Johnny backed against the wall. "I don't have much. It's mine. I earned it."
He felt a sharp pain in his jaw when the first fist made contact; then several more fists slamming against his jaw. He bent over to try to deflect the punches only to feel more in his belly. Johnny fell to his knees. He could hear ringing in his ears. His eyes swam with the raindrops that had increased in speed and size. When he toppled to the ground he could feel the force of their feet against his ribs.
He moaned and swallowed trying to stop the acid wash that was making its way up his throat.
"Give us the cash you cry baby!"
Johnny could feel several hands holding him down while others rifled through his clothes in search of his money. He couldn't see their faces through the rain or his eye that had swollen shut. His jaw hurt and blood leaked from his split lip. Johnny fought hard lashing out and kicking with all he had. He tried bucking them off, but there were too many of them.
The last thing he remembered was several shadowed figures laughing at him as they counted his money. They left him there in the cold wet alley, bloody and barely aware. He slipped into darkness just as they turned the corner.
Like most seventeen year olds, Johnny had no real plan. He just thought boldly that he could go out there in the world; find a job and a place to live. He never considered that his age would be a deterrent.
Things didn't go so well for him on his own.
At seventeen it was hard to find employment.
At first he stayed with a few of his friends from track, one night at one house and then another while he worked different jobs. But since he had graduated early and they were still in school he no longer had much in common with his friends. He soon moved on.
He had many odd jobs he'd been forced to endure, flipping burgers over a hot grill had sucked not to mention the burns from the popping grease that speckled his forearms and the awful stretchy uniforms and ridiculous hat that made his head itch, pouring concrete was hot and dirty and he had ruined his shoes, walking dogs, even though he loved animals, had been the worst, because the owners insisted that he scoop up all of their deposits which he never understood, and he'd mowed more lawns than he cared to remember.
The one job he had wanted was not to be, at least not now.
Johnny stared at the desk clerk at the fire academy. "You don't make any exceptions? My aunt would give her permission."
"No," the middle aged motherly woman looked back at the young man. She could see the longing in his eyes and determination set in his brow, but the rules had been in place since the beginning of the department. "I'm sorry. You have to be eighteen."
"Thank you." He said softly as he turned and slowly walked to the double glass doors that he had hoped would lead him to his future. As he walked by the rows of framed portraits a shudder ran down his back. It was as if the men were staring at him, disappointed in him for trying to bend the rules. He ducked his head and pushed through the doors, bound down the stairs and retrieved his things that he had stowed in the bushes. He squared his shoulders, turned back to the building and declared in a soft statement, "I'll be back. In a year…I'll be back." Then he turned on his heel and started down the sidewalk in search of something else.
He needed a job, something that would pay well enough to afford him a place to stay even if he couldn't get any landlords to allow him to sign a lease because he wasn't of legal age.
As he walked down the long road back on the side of the road he found a wallet. Stooping down, he picked it up and looked inside. There was no money in it. 'I guess it was stolen.' He glanced around to make sure no one was watching him. There was an ID in the wallet. It said the dark haired guy in the picture was twenty one. Johnny studied the small picture. 'If they don't look closely…it could be me.' He ended up using the ID to rent a motel room for the night, but that cost a lot of money. He wasn't able to stay there more than a few nights, which wasn't really such a bad thing. During one night Johnny awoke to a strange sound. When he flipped on the light and leaned over the side of the bed he saw several roaches scurry across the floor and beneath the baseboards. He'd already noticed that the room had a distinct smell of age mixed with stale body odor, and now with the unwanted visitors he knew he would be moving on by morning.
After a short time Johnny found himself living on the streets of Los Angeles, sleeping in door alcoves and in dark alleys or parking garages if he could slip in unnoticed before they closed for the night. He only did that when it rained, because if nothing Johnny was honest to a fault. He just didn't know what else to do.
He would go by and visit his aunt regularly at first, but after a while he lost weight.
"Either you've gotten taller or you've lost weight." His aunt looked him up and down.
Johnny shuffled under her gaze. "Taller I guess." He tugged at the waist band of his jeans pulling them up from where they puddled at his ankles from sliding down his too thin hips.
His aunt smiled at him. "Well you are staying for dinner this time aren't you?"
"Yes ma'am." Johnny's stomach growled in anticipation of one of his aunt's home cooked meals. But soon after dinner he made his excuses and left. He was too late for the shelter, so he would need to find a place to sleep.
He didn't want his aunt to know things weren't going well for him so he opted to call her most of the time instead. He had found out that there were places that fed the poor and sometimes he could get to sleep on a cot if he got in line soon enough, so Johnny would get out early to do the landscaping and cutting work he had become proficient at. That way he could finish early enough to get a good place in line at the shelter. He often washed in the yard hoses before rolling them back up and putting them away. One thing Johnny hated was feeling dirty.
He had come to know several of the other shelter residents, some older men who he had started eating dinner with, Gus and Bobby. Johnny enjoyed listening to their stories, and they always saved him a seat.
One night he was late getting back to the shelter and the line was cut off before he got to the front. Like so many each night he was turned away to fend for himself.
As he turned away from the place of refuge he had an uneasy feeling like something bad was about to happen, but he shook it off as silly. He could find an alley somewhere and hold up for the night. No one would find him there. He would just have to work faster tomorrow so he wouldn't get locked out.
With that in mind he set out in the darkened streets of the city to find a place to bunk down for the night.
Johnny found a diner that was still open and he went inside to get some dinner. He didn't need much, just enough to tide him over until he could go back to the shelter for breakfast, maybe a burger and fries. He looked up at the sign above the door "Jimbo's Diner" graced the sign face. He slipped inside and shuffled over to the nearest booth. He slid his knapsack onto the bench and sat down. An older woman came over and took his order. Johnny knew this would take more money than he needed to spend if he hoped to get a permanent place to stay when he turned eighteen in a couple of months, but he was hungry. Maybe he would be able to pick up a couple of odd jobs to make up the difference on the weekend.
When his plate of food was placed on the table he noticed there was also a small salad and a piece of pie. He looked up at the man who delivered the food. "Um I…this is not…I only ordered the burger and fries."
"Well kid…it's like this. I'm about to close and I have all this pie that won't be good tomorrow so I was hoping you might help me by eating some of it." And then the man smiled, turned and walked away. He was behind the counter before Johnny had time to think of a response. He did the only thing he could do. He ate every bite.
When he got up to pay the waitress told him that it would only be three dollars. Johnny knew that was wrong. The hamburger alone was two. He tried to protest, but she wouldn't change the price, and she wouldn't accept any tip. Stunned at their kindness Johnny decided that the alley behind the diner might well be a safe hideaway. He slipped around to the side of the building and found a dry spot behind the dumpster. He was tired and his belly full. He spread out his blanket and folded his clothes to use as a pillow. It didn't take long for him to drift off to sleep.
He was awakened by voices.
When he sat up to investigate he found several guys that he had hung out with before. They were all street dwellers as they liked to be called. "Hey guys what's up?" He rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He noticed that it had started sprinkling. He began to gather up his things. He would need to find a place out of the rain.
The group of guys that had pretended to be his friends now only wanted the little bit of money Johnny had collected from cutting yards that week. He didn't keep much money. His aunt had opened him a checking account when he had moved to LA. He put most of his money there for safe keeping.
"Hand over the cash Gage!"
Johnny backed against the wall. "I don't have much. It's mine. I earned it."
He felt a sharp pain in his jaw when the first fist made contact; then several more fists slamming against his jaw. He bent over to try to deflect the punches only to feel more in his belly. Johnny fell to his knees. He could hear ringing in his ears. His eyes swam with the raindrops that had increased in speed and size. When he toppled to the ground he could feel the force of their feet against his ribs.
He moaned and swallowed trying to stop the acid wash that was making its way up his throat.
"Give us the cash you cry baby!"
Johnny could feel several hands holding him down while others rifled through his clothes in search of his money. He couldn't see their faces through the rain or his eye that had swollen shut. His jaw hurt and blood leaked from his split lip. Johnny fought hard lashing out and kicking with all he had. He tried bucking them off, but there were too many of them.
The last thing he remembered was several shadowed figures laughing at him as they counted his money. They left him there in the cold wet alley, bloody and barely aware. He slipped into darkness just as they turned the corner.
Chapter Eight
Plink... thunk... plink...thunk…
Through the constant soft buzzing in his ears he could hear a steady dripping that seemed to be drilling a hole in his head. That had to be why it ached so. But he didn't have the strength to see where the dripping was coming from. He hurt from head to toe and then some.
Plink… thunk… plink… thunk…
Time seemed to have no meaning in the painful haze. Cold crept in making him involuntarily shiver, but his eyes remained closed.
He was afraid to open them, afraid to find out what had happened to him. He couldn't remember where he was or why he hurt so much, and the way the world teetered with his eyes closed only enhanced the worry that it would be worse with them open…if he could in fact open them. His left eye felt big and tight and either tears leaked from his right eye or something wet was running down his cheek from somewhere else.
Plink… thunk… plink… thunk…
'Rain'… he thought… 'It's raining and I'm wet...cold.' He shivered again and tried to open his eyes, but only the right one cracked to a small slit and the world turned flips. He shut it quickly and tried unsuccessfully to push up from the asphalt. He collapsed back in the puddle in which he lay with a splash. The tiny bit of energy he had now slipped away and the buzzing in his ears seemed to grow louder.
Plink… thunk… plink… thunk…
The rain drops increased in speed. Cold washed over his face and filled his ear. Blinking one eye again Johnny struggled to stay awake. Raindrops fell into the puddle his cheek rested in and splashed cold on his nose. "Uhn." He moaned as he blinked away the sting from the water as it splashed in his eye.
Watching the movement caused when the drops hit the pool of water made him sick to his stomach. He licked his swollen lips and swallowed. The sour taste in his mouth remained. One thing for sure he'd been there all night, because now he could see the first strands of morning light as they snaked around the buildings though dimmed by the rain clouds.
Squeezing his eyes again he tried to hold back the nausea that threatened. He pushed up again and managed to roll to his side and slide back against the brick wall, and then very slowly he pushed himself into a sitting position and fell spent against the bricks. His head hung and his chin rested against his chest. He swallowed again and again. In his new sitting position it seemed as if he could breathe easier, but his side still hurt.
Things slowly came into focus and memories of voices rushed in. They'd laughed at him when they took his money. He reached for his wallet. It wasn't there. With one eye he scanned the alley until he saw it lying open a few feet away, clearly empty.
He couldn't keep himself upright any longer. He slid down the wall and the buzzing closed in again.
James Boyd turned his truck into the parking lot of his early retirement dream. The lighted sign above the diner flickered and then turned off. He glanced at his watch 6 am. 'Right on time.' The timer on the reverse channel letters lined with neon that spelled out JIMBO'S DINER along the edge if the roof seemed to be working perfectly. He grabbed his duffle bag from the seat, slid from the truck and ran for the door through the pouring rain. The streetlights had gone off at 5:30, but the smaller sign above the door provided ample light for him to see well enough to slide the key into the lock with ease.
Once inside he hurried to the kitchen and the alarm pad behind the door. Punching in the code quickly he disabled the system. Then he deposited his bag on the prep table and pulled out his newly sharpened knives. He had a lot to do before the breakfast crowd and thirty minutes wasn't much time. But, first he needed to take out the trash bag he had left beside the back door. He wasn't in the habit of leaving a bag of trash by the back door, but this one had been from the office and was only filled with papers from his late night of trying to balance the books. He didn't want it in his way all day though, so he hurried to unlock the back door and deposit it in the dumpster.
As he stepped into the alley he heard a thud and grunt. He quickly dropped the trash bag and spun while reaching beneath his jacket for the gun that used to rest there in his Los Angeles County Police Department issued holster, but there was no holster and there was no gun. His breathing grew rapid. Sweat beaded on his forehead along with the rain. Jimbo knew he had enemies from his days on the force. Coming out into the alley alone without as much as looking to see if it was clear was not a good idea and poor planning on his part. His superior officers would be very disappointed in his actions. He stepped back into the shadows and scanned the alley for an intruder.
'Jimbo you are such an idiot. It was probably just a cat.'
He stooped down to retrieve the bag and noticed an open wallet. He picked it up instead. It was empty except for an ID that read John Roderick Gage. The picture was of the kid that had come into the diner the night before and based on the birth date he was…just a kid…a kid of seventeen.
Sensing that John Gage had been in some kind of trouble in the alley Jimbo started looking for him. It didn't take long to find him slumped over, unconscious behind the dumpster. 'Not a cat, Jimbo.' He thought as he got down on his knee and reached for Johnny's wrist to see if he was still alive.
The kid was definitely alive, because before Jimbo could get his and around the thin wrist it was jerked from his grasp and tucked against the trembling body it belonged to. One bloodshot eye looked back at him and another looked swollen and very dark. The lighting was dim, but Jimbo thought it was most certainly black. "Easy…" He reached out to touch the boy on the shoulder. "I won't hurt you. You need help."
"'m o…oka..y" Johnny mumbled through his swollen lips."
Jimbo couldn't suppress the chuckle that escaped. "Sure you are kid. Now you just stay right here while I call an ambulance. I'll be right back."
Johnny struggled back to a seated position. "NO!" He gasped out. "No am…ula…ce."
"Hey take it easy." Jimbo got back down on his knee.
"No am…ula…ce." Johnny tried to say again.
"Okay…but you're hurt and soaked to the bone. At least let me take you inside and see if we can find you something dry to put on."
Johnny looked at the pile of his wet, soiled clothes and nodded his head. The movement made his stomach roll, and he turned away swallowing rapidly. Somehow he was able to keep his stomach in place. He sighed and leaned back against the wall breathing deeply.
"I'm going to help you inside, and then I'll come back for your things." Jimbo slid his arm around Johnny's shoulder and helped him to his feet. Johnny's knees felt like Jello and he swayed. Jimbo tightened his grip. "Can you make it."
"Yeah…think so." Johnny shuffled his feet and guided by Jimbo, moved toward the back door to the diner. The truth was he wanted to get out of the alley in case those thugs came back, but the buzzing returned and the alley swam before his eyes. "No am...u...lance. K?" He said as he lost the battle to stay awake.
Through the constant soft buzzing in his ears he could hear a steady dripping that seemed to be drilling a hole in his head. That had to be why it ached so. But he didn't have the strength to see where the dripping was coming from. He hurt from head to toe and then some.
Plink… thunk… plink… thunk…
Time seemed to have no meaning in the painful haze. Cold crept in making him involuntarily shiver, but his eyes remained closed.
He was afraid to open them, afraid to find out what had happened to him. He couldn't remember where he was or why he hurt so much, and the way the world teetered with his eyes closed only enhanced the worry that it would be worse with them open…if he could in fact open them. His left eye felt big and tight and either tears leaked from his right eye or something wet was running down his cheek from somewhere else.
Plink… thunk… plink… thunk…
'Rain'… he thought… 'It's raining and I'm wet...cold.' He shivered again and tried to open his eyes, but only the right one cracked to a small slit and the world turned flips. He shut it quickly and tried unsuccessfully to push up from the asphalt. He collapsed back in the puddle in which he lay with a splash. The tiny bit of energy he had now slipped away and the buzzing in his ears seemed to grow louder.
Plink… thunk… plink… thunk…
The rain drops increased in speed. Cold washed over his face and filled his ear. Blinking one eye again Johnny struggled to stay awake. Raindrops fell into the puddle his cheek rested in and splashed cold on his nose. "Uhn." He moaned as he blinked away the sting from the water as it splashed in his eye.
Watching the movement caused when the drops hit the pool of water made him sick to his stomach. He licked his swollen lips and swallowed. The sour taste in his mouth remained. One thing for sure he'd been there all night, because now he could see the first strands of morning light as they snaked around the buildings though dimmed by the rain clouds.
Squeezing his eyes again he tried to hold back the nausea that threatened. He pushed up again and managed to roll to his side and slide back against the brick wall, and then very slowly he pushed himself into a sitting position and fell spent against the bricks. His head hung and his chin rested against his chest. He swallowed again and again. In his new sitting position it seemed as if he could breathe easier, but his side still hurt.
Things slowly came into focus and memories of voices rushed in. They'd laughed at him when they took his money. He reached for his wallet. It wasn't there. With one eye he scanned the alley until he saw it lying open a few feet away, clearly empty.
He couldn't keep himself upright any longer. He slid down the wall and the buzzing closed in again.
James Boyd turned his truck into the parking lot of his early retirement dream. The lighted sign above the diner flickered and then turned off. He glanced at his watch 6 am. 'Right on time.' The timer on the reverse channel letters lined with neon that spelled out JIMBO'S DINER along the edge if the roof seemed to be working perfectly. He grabbed his duffle bag from the seat, slid from the truck and ran for the door through the pouring rain. The streetlights had gone off at 5:30, but the smaller sign above the door provided ample light for him to see well enough to slide the key into the lock with ease.
Once inside he hurried to the kitchen and the alarm pad behind the door. Punching in the code quickly he disabled the system. Then he deposited his bag on the prep table and pulled out his newly sharpened knives. He had a lot to do before the breakfast crowd and thirty minutes wasn't much time. But, first he needed to take out the trash bag he had left beside the back door. He wasn't in the habit of leaving a bag of trash by the back door, but this one had been from the office and was only filled with papers from his late night of trying to balance the books. He didn't want it in his way all day though, so he hurried to unlock the back door and deposit it in the dumpster.
As he stepped into the alley he heard a thud and grunt. He quickly dropped the trash bag and spun while reaching beneath his jacket for the gun that used to rest there in his Los Angeles County Police Department issued holster, but there was no holster and there was no gun. His breathing grew rapid. Sweat beaded on his forehead along with the rain. Jimbo knew he had enemies from his days on the force. Coming out into the alley alone without as much as looking to see if it was clear was not a good idea and poor planning on his part. His superior officers would be very disappointed in his actions. He stepped back into the shadows and scanned the alley for an intruder.
'Jimbo you are such an idiot. It was probably just a cat.'
He stooped down to retrieve the bag and noticed an open wallet. He picked it up instead. It was empty except for an ID that read John Roderick Gage. The picture was of the kid that had come into the diner the night before and based on the birth date he was…just a kid…a kid of seventeen.
Sensing that John Gage had been in some kind of trouble in the alley Jimbo started looking for him. It didn't take long to find him slumped over, unconscious behind the dumpster. 'Not a cat, Jimbo.' He thought as he got down on his knee and reached for Johnny's wrist to see if he was still alive.
The kid was definitely alive, because before Jimbo could get his and around the thin wrist it was jerked from his grasp and tucked against the trembling body it belonged to. One bloodshot eye looked back at him and another looked swollen and very dark. The lighting was dim, but Jimbo thought it was most certainly black. "Easy…" He reached out to touch the boy on the shoulder. "I won't hurt you. You need help."
"'m o…oka..y" Johnny mumbled through his swollen lips."
Jimbo couldn't suppress the chuckle that escaped. "Sure you are kid. Now you just stay right here while I call an ambulance. I'll be right back."
Johnny struggled back to a seated position. "NO!" He gasped out. "No am…ula…ce."
"Hey take it easy." Jimbo got back down on his knee.
"No am…ula…ce." Johnny tried to say again.
"Okay…but you're hurt and soaked to the bone. At least let me take you inside and see if we can find you something dry to put on."
Johnny looked at the pile of his wet, soiled clothes and nodded his head. The movement made his stomach roll, and he turned away swallowing rapidly. Somehow he was able to keep his stomach in place. He sighed and leaned back against the wall breathing deeply.
"I'm going to help you inside, and then I'll come back for your things." Jimbo slid his arm around Johnny's shoulder and helped him to his feet. Johnny's knees felt like Jello and he swayed. Jimbo tightened his grip. "Can you make it."
"Yeah…think so." Johnny shuffled his feet and guided by Jimbo, moved toward the back door to the diner. The truth was he wanted to get out of the alley in case those thugs came back, but the buzzing returned and the alley swam before his eyes. "No am...u...lance. K?" He said as he lost the battle to stay awake.
Chapter Nine
Jimbo felt Johnny go limp. He knew the kid couldn't weigh that much so he bent over and lifted him over his shoulder. He carried him through the door and into the office where he kept a cot for the nights he was too exhausted to drive home. He carefully lowered the unconscious teen onto the cot; then he hurried back into the rain to get the clothes as promised and deposit the trash bag into the dumpster.
Back inside he piled the wet clothes in the corner and turned back to look at the kid.
Johnny was soaked to the bone. First order of business had to be getting him out of the wet things and into something dry. Since his meager clothing lay in a soiled heap on the floor, Jimbo had to come up with something else.
He scratched his head and wondered what to do. He didn't have any kids of his own, so he had no experience in caring for a kid much less a teenager. He'd never married. The only woman he ever asked had turned him down. They had been madly in love with each other, but they also were both married to their jobs, she as an ER nurse; he as a cop on the street. 'Maybe I should call her. She would know what to do.' As soon as the thought had occurred to him he shook it off. That would take too long. The kid was shivering even in sleep.
He ran his hand through his damp hair, turned and grabbed his own duffle bag. The sweats he had brought for his mid afternoon workout would be huge on the kid, but it was all he had and the pants did have a drawstring. Maybe skipping his exercises for one afternoon wouldn't cause him too much trouble with his leg. Ever since he had suffered the career ending injury that forced him into early retirement he had needed to workout with the series of stretches and exercises daily to keep his leg from stiffening up on him. "These are gonna swallow you whole kid, but it's all I got." He talked to Johnny as though he could hear him. "Now this isn't gonna be easy, so you just lay still and let me get you dry."
Johnny barely stirred as Jimbo pulled the wet shoes from his feet. "Whoa boy, you need some new sox." He pulled the holey sox from each foot and unceremoniously tossed them into the trash.
Johnny groaned when his jeans soon followed. "We'll keep these. They need a good washing though." Jimbo tossed the jeans into the dirty clothes pile. With no other choice available the boxers would have to stay put, but the torn t-shirt was tossed into the pile with the jeans.
Jimbo grabbed a kitchen towel and tried to clean Johnny up a little before pulling the sweat shirt over his head. "Alright, now this is gonna sting a little." The simple first aid kit he kept in the kitchen had alcohol wipes, iodine and bandages. "This will have to do for now" Jimbo wiped, swabbed and bandaged the small cuts that littered Johnny's torso. "Man kid…I can count your ribs."
The oversized pants came next and then some thick white sports sox.
Johnny snuggled into the warmth of the dry clothes and continued sleeping. As Jimbo spread the blanket over him he realized that the shivering had stopped. "Well that's about all I can do for now except let you sleep."
Jimbo turned to his prep table and began his work day. The breakfast crowd would be there in a short while and he needed to at least make an attempt at being ready, but he kept glancing back to the office and the sleeping teen. 'I hope you don't have any serious injuries. Dixie would have my hide if she found out I didn't bring an injured kid to Rampart not knowing if they were hurt worse than I suspected and took care of them myself. I guess it's a good thing she won't know about it.' That thought saddened him a bit. It was a momentary reminder of the lost love. Jimbo sighed and began chopping the onions he had already peeled.
Several hours later and after a very busy morning rush, Jimbo pushed the door to the office open to check on Johnny. He had made some soup and grilled cheese sandwiches and hoped he could wake the teen and get him to eat. When the light from the kitchen shone into the room he could see that Johnny was awake. He lay on the cot with the blankets pulled snuggly against his chin and stared at Jimbo with one eye. "Hey kid. I brought you something to eat."
In a very hoarse whisper Johnny asked him, "Where am I?"
"Well, do you remember last night?" Johnny nodded slightly. He did remember getting mugged. "I hope you liked the pie." Recognition dawned on Johnny's face. He did remember the cook at the diner giving him extra food. "I'm Jimbo." He sat the tray on the edge of the desk and waved his arm at the room. "This is my place."
"Your place?" Johnny asked thinking surely he doesn't live here too.
"Yep, she's all mine. Now can you sit up and eat some soup?" He moved to help Johnny sit up.
It was slow going and Johnny was breathing heavily once they got him to a sitting position. He hurt all over and felt stiff and achy.
Jimbo handed him the cup of soup and made sure he could hold on to it.
Johnny sniffed the liquid and after deciding he liked the smell he blew on it through cracked and split lips before taking an experimental sip.
"It's chicken noodle, my mom's recipe. It's pretty good if I do say so myself." He reached over and got his own cup. "I made the noodles small so you could drink it. I didn't know if you could hold a spoon or not."
Johnny raised one eyebrow in question, but continued to drink. The warm broth felt good on his scratchy throat; the soft noodles tasted good and didn't hurt his sore mouth. "It's good." He licked his lips and winced when they stung.
"Do you want to try a grilled cheese sandwich? I cut the crust off so it would be softer to chew." He handed Johnny a triangular half sandwich which Johnny bit into and savored in his mouth. "There's more if you want it." Jimbo pointed to the tray. "And if you're still hungry I can make some more." He smiled.
"Thanks." Johnny said softly. "I'll just eat and get out of your way." He shifted uneasily on the edge of the cot.
"No you won't. You'll eat and lay back down and rest. I didn't call an ambulance this morning when you asked me not to, but I won't let you walk out of here today. You're hurting."
Johnny tried to sit up straighter and looked up at Jimbo.
"Don't think you can fool me into thinking you're not kid. I'm a retired cop. I'm trained to read people. I can see it in your eyes…well your eye. Now do you want some more to eat or do you want to lay back down and let me get you some ice for that eye?" He pointed at the swollen black eye on Johnny's face. "I'm sure it will help the swelling."
Johnny pushed himself further onto the cot and eased down sideways. The truth was he felt terrible and didn't even know if he could have walked out of the diner on his own two feet.
Jimbo stepped over and helped him get comfortable. "I'll be right back with some ice, and then I'm going to run your clothes to my house and throw them in the wash. I'm pretty sure everything you own is wet and dirty." Johnny sighed and closed his eye. "Okay. Now I'm going to leave you here with Rita. She was here last night. Do you remember her?"
Johnny kept his eyes closed and answered. "She was the waitress." His words slurred a little. He was already drifting to sleep.
"That's right, so don't get any ideas about leaving before I get back. I'll only be gone for a little while. If you need anything Rita will get it for you." Jimbo leaned over and heard a soft snoring. He stood back up and chuckled. "Yeah you were gonna just walk right out of here weren't you John?" He patted Johnny on the shoulder and left the office pulling the door softly closed.
It was late evening when Johnny woke up again. His throat ached terribly. He felt chilled to the bone one minute and kicked the blankets off the next. He also had another pressing need. He tried to disentangle himself from the blankets and get his feet onto the floor. He felt weak and drained even though he'd slept most of the day.
When he finally got up on his feet, he shuffled over to the office door, opened it and leaned against the doorframe.
Jimbo looked up from the grill and saw how unsteady Johnny was on his feet. "Hey kid." He flipped the burgers he was cooking and hung the spatula on its hook. "I bet you need the bathroom, huh?"
Johnny pushed away from the doorframe and took a few steps into the kitchen. He swayed a bit and Jimbo put a steadying hand on his arm.
"Let me show you where it is." He moved Johnny in the direction of the bathroom just off the kitchen for employees. "Rita," he called to the waitress.
Rita looked through the long narrow opening where food was passed from the kitchen to the dining area. "Yeah?"
"Can you watch those burgers? Let Missy take care of the customers for a minute."
"Sure Boss." She disappeared from the window and could be heard telling Missy she would be in the kitchen for a minute.
"Okay John let's get you to the bathroom." He led Johnny the rest of the way to the bathroom. "Can you do this or do you need some help."
"I can do it." Johnny pulled his arm away from Jimbo, but he held onto the door for support. "Been doing it by myself for a long time."
Jimbo chuckled and leaned against the wall to wait for Johnny to finish so he could make sure he got back to the cot alright. He looked over at Rita who smiled at him. "What?" He glared at her.
"Nothing Boss. Not a thing." She turned back to the grill with a huge grin on her face. "Except that when you had me give that kid the pie last night for free I didn't know you were adopting him." She teased.
"Oh be quiet." Jimbo smiled back at her. "How was I supposed to know he was gonna get mugged right outside my back door?" Just then the door opened back up and Johnny shuffled back into the room. "Come on kid. It's back to bed for you."
Johnny started coughing and hunched over a bit with the effort. When he finally got the coughing under control Rita was in front of him with a glass of water which he sipped gingerly. "Thanks." His voice was just a whisper. "I don't feel so good."
"I think some aspirin and some more soup might help." Rita said before turning around and taking the glass over to the sink.
Jimbo and Johnny disappeared back into the office. Jimbo emerged a few minutes later. "I think he has a fever."
"Yeah, his hand felt warm. But you know Jimbo if you're sick it's always worse in the evening and at night." Rita said as she handed him the aspirin and a glass of apple juice.
"Really?"
Rita smiled. "Trust me. It's always like that with my boys."
"Huh…I didn't know that." He shrugged as he turned back to the office. "Oh did you warm up that soup?"
"Let him drink that. If he keeps that down for about thirty minutes try some soup."
"Do you think he's going to throw up or something? He didn't earlier." Jimbo stopped and looked back at her.
"He didn't have a fever then." She answered as she pushed the burgers through the window. "Burgers up." She called to Missy.
"Oh, yeah, you're right. Maybe I'll put the office trashcan closer to the cot in case he needs it."
"That's a good idea. I do that with the boys too. That saves you a lot of clean up. You better make sure it has a clean bag in it." She called to him. "I'm going to check on my tables. Let me know if you need me back in here." She pushed through the door to the dining room.
Jimbo gave Johnny the aspirin and juice and moved the can just as they had discussed.
"I'm sorry." Johnny whispered croakily.
"What for?" Jimbo felt sorry for Johnny. He looked miserable.
"Bein' so much trouble."
Back inside he piled the wet clothes in the corner and turned back to look at the kid.
Johnny was soaked to the bone. First order of business had to be getting him out of the wet things and into something dry. Since his meager clothing lay in a soiled heap on the floor, Jimbo had to come up with something else.
He scratched his head and wondered what to do. He didn't have any kids of his own, so he had no experience in caring for a kid much less a teenager. He'd never married. The only woman he ever asked had turned him down. They had been madly in love with each other, but they also were both married to their jobs, she as an ER nurse; he as a cop on the street. 'Maybe I should call her. She would know what to do.' As soon as the thought had occurred to him he shook it off. That would take too long. The kid was shivering even in sleep.
He ran his hand through his damp hair, turned and grabbed his own duffle bag. The sweats he had brought for his mid afternoon workout would be huge on the kid, but it was all he had and the pants did have a drawstring. Maybe skipping his exercises for one afternoon wouldn't cause him too much trouble with his leg. Ever since he had suffered the career ending injury that forced him into early retirement he had needed to workout with the series of stretches and exercises daily to keep his leg from stiffening up on him. "These are gonna swallow you whole kid, but it's all I got." He talked to Johnny as though he could hear him. "Now this isn't gonna be easy, so you just lay still and let me get you dry."
Johnny barely stirred as Jimbo pulled the wet shoes from his feet. "Whoa boy, you need some new sox." He pulled the holey sox from each foot and unceremoniously tossed them into the trash.
Johnny groaned when his jeans soon followed. "We'll keep these. They need a good washing though." Jimbo tossed the jeans into the dirty clothes pile. With no other choice available the boxers would have to stay put, but the torn t-shirt was tossed into the pile with the jeans.
Jimbo grabbed a kitchen towel and tried to clean Johnny up a little before pulling the sweat shirt over his head. "Alright, now this is gonna sting a little." The simple first aid kit he kept in the kitchen had alcohol wipes, iodine and bandages. "This will have to do for now" Jimbo wiped, swabbed and bandaged the small cuts that littered Johnny's torso. "Man kid…I can count your ribs."
The oversized pants came next and then some thick white sports sox.
Johnny snuggled into the warmth of the dry clothes and continued sleeping. As Jimbo spread the blanket over him he realized that the shivering had stopped. "Well that's about all I can do for now except let you sleep."
Jimbo turned to his prep table and began his work day. The breakfast crowd would be there in a short while and he needed to at least make an attempt at being ready, but he kept glancing back to the office and the sleeping teen. 'I hope you don't have any serious injuries. Dixie would have my hide if she found out I didn't bring an injured kid to Rampart not knowing if they were hurt worse than I suspected and took care of them myself. I guess it's a good thing she won't know about it.' That thought saddened him a bit. It was a momentary reminder of the lost love. Jimbo sighed and began chopping the onions he had already peeled.
Several hours later and after a very busy morning rush, Jimbo pushed the door to the office open to check on Johnny. He had made some soup and grilled cheese sandwiches and hoped he could wake the teen and get him to eat. When the light from the kitchen shone into the room he could see that Johnny was awake. He lay on the cot with the blankets pulled snuggly against his chin and stared at Jimbo with one eye. "Hey kid. I brought you something to eat."
In a very hoarse whisper Johnny asked him, "Where am I?"
"Well, do you remember last night?" Johnny nodded slightly. He did remember getting mugged. "I hope you liked the pie." Recognition dawned on Johnny's face. He did remember the cook at the diner giving him extra food. "I'm Jimbo." He sat the tray on the edge of the desk and waved his arm at the room. "This is my place."
"Your place?" Johnny asked thinking surely he doesn't live here too.
"Yep, she's all mine. Now can you sit up and eat some soup?" He moved to help Johnny sit up.
It was slow going and Johnny was breathing heavily once they got him to a sitting position. He hurt all over and felt stiff and achy.
Jimbo handed him the cup of soup and made sure he could hold on to it.
Johnny sniffed the liquid and after deciding he liked the smell he blew on it through cracked and split lips before taking an experimental sip.
"It's chicken noodle, my mom's recipe. It's pretty good if I do say so myself." He reached over and got his own cup. "I made the noodles small so you could drink it. I didn't know if you could hold a spoon or not."
Johnny raised one eyebrow in question, but continued to drink. The warm broth felt good on his scratchy throat; the soft noodles tasted good and didn't hurt his sore mouth. "It's good." He licked his lips and winced when they stung.
"Do you want to try a grilled cheese sandwich? I cut the crust off so it would be softer to chew." He handed Johnny a triangular half sandwich which Johnny bit into and savored in his mouth. "There's more if you want it." Jimbo pointed to the tray. "And if you're still hungry I can make some more." He smiled.
"Thanks." Johnny said softly. "I'll just eat and get out of your way." He shifted uneasily on the edge of the cot.
"No you won't. You'll eat and lay back down and rest. I didn't call an ambulance this morning when you asked me not to, but I won't let you walk out of here today. You're hurting."
Johnny tried to sit up straighter and looked up at Jimbo.
"Don't think you can fool me into thinking you're not kid. I'm a retired cop. I'm trained to read people. I can see it in your eyes…well your eye. Now do you want some more to eat or do you want to lay back down and let me get you some ice for that eye?" He pointed at the swollen black eye on Johnny's face. "I'm sure it will help the swelling."
Johnny pushed himself further onto the cot and eased down sideways. The truth was he felt terrible and didn't even know if he could have walked out of the diner on his own two feet.
Jimbo stepped over and helped him get comfortable. "I'll be right back with some ice, and then I'm going to run your clothes to my house and throw them in the wash. I'm pretty sure everything you own is wet and dirty." Johnny sighed and closed his eye. "Okay. Now I'm going to leave you here with Rita. She was here last night. Do you remember her?"
Johnny kept his eyes closed and answered. "She was the waitress." His words slurred a little. He was already drifting to sleep.
"That's right, so don't get any ideas about leaving before I get back. I'll only be gone for a little while. If you need anything Rita will get it for you." Jimbo leaned over and heard a soft snoring. He stood back up and chuckled. "Yeah you were gonna just walk right out of here weren't you John?" He patted Johnny on the shoulder and left the office pulling the door softly closed.
It was late evening when Johnny woke up again. His throat ached terribly. He felt chilled to the bone one minute and kicked the blankets off the next. He also had another pressing need. He tried to disentangle himself from the blankets and get his feet onto the floor. He felt weak and drained even though he'd slept most of the day.
When he finally got up on his feet, he shuffled over to the office door, opened it and leaned against the doorframe.
Jimbo looked up from the grill and saw how unsteady Johnny was on his feet. "Hey kid." He flipped the burgers he was cooking and hung the spatula on its hook. "I bet you need the bathroom, huh?"
Johnny pushed away from the doorframe and took a few steps into the kitchen. He swayed a bit and Jimbo put a steadying hand on his arm.
"Let me show you where it is." He moved Johnny in the direction of the bathroom just off the kitchen for employees. "Rita," he called to the waitress.
Rita looked through the long narrow opening where food was passed from the kitchen to the dining area. "Yeah?"
"Can you watch those burgers? Let Missy take care of the customers for a minute."
"Sure Boss." She disappeared from the window and could be heard telling Missy she would be in the kitchen for a minute.
"Okay John let's get you to the bathroom." He led Johnny the rest of the way to the bathroom. "Can you do this or do you need some help."
"I can do it." Johnny pulled his arm away from Jimbo, but he held onto the door for support. "Been doing it by myself for a long time."
Jimbo chuckled and leaned against the wall to wait for Johnny to finish so he could make sure he got back to the cot alright. He looked over at Rita who smiled at him. "What?" He glared at her.
"Nothing Boss. Not a thing." She turned back to the grill with a huge grin on her face. "Except that when you had me give that kid the pie last night for free I didn't know you were adopting him." She teased.
"Oh be quiet." Jimbo smiled back at her. "How was I supposed to know he was gonna get mugged right outside my back door?" Just then the door opened back up and Johnny shuffled back into the room. "Come on kid. It's back to bed for you."
Johnny started coughing and hunched over a bit with the effort. When he finally got the coughing under control Rita was in front of him with a glass of water which he sipped gingerly. "Thanks." His voice was just a whisper. "I don't feel so good."
"I think some aspirin and some more soup might help." Rita said before turning around and taking the glass over to the sink.
Jimbo and Johnny disappeared back into the office. Jimbo emerged a few minutes later. "I think he has a fever."
"Yeah, his hand felt warm. But you know Jimbo if you're sick it's always worse in the evening and at night." Rita said as she handed him the aspirin and a glass of apple juice.
"Really?"
Rita smiled. "Trust me. It's always like that with my boys."
"Huh…I didn't know that." He shrugged as he turned back to the office. "Oh did you warm up that soup?"
"Let him drink that. If he keeps that down for about thirty minutes try some soup."
"Do you think he's going to throw up or something? He didn't earlier." Jimbo stopped and looked back at her.
"He didn't have a fever then." She answered as she pushed the burgers through the window. "Burgers up." She called to Missy.
"Oh, yeah, you're right. Maybe I'll put the office trashcan closer to the cot in case he needs it."
"That's a good idea. I do that with the boys too. That saves you a lot of clean up. You better make sure it has a clean bag in it." She called to him. "I'm going to check on my tables. Let me know if you need me back in here." She pushed through the door to the dining room.
Jimbo gave Johnny the aspirin and juice and moved the can just as they had discussed.
"I'm sorry." Johnny whispered croakily.
"What for?" Jimbo felt sorry for Johnny. He looked miserable.
"Bein' so much trouble."
