What If?
by GCS
This story is a missing scene from "The Wedsworth Townsend Act" and my story "Rescue Man" and follows "The Boot." Also another quote challenge "The greatest mistake you can make in life is to be continually fearing you will make one." - Elbert Hubbard
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. This story is only written for entertainment. No financial gain is being realized from it. The story, itself, is the property of the author.
Roy Desoto had given up hope that there would be any others interested in the Paramedic classes. He'd spent the morning talking to several men, but they still had space in the upcoming class. They needed one more man to make things complete.
Glancing at his watch he realized time was running out. This was the last day for people to sign up; he had only reserved the room until three o'clock. It was 2:30; he only had thirty minutes to go. He slowly slid his chair back and grabbed the empty coffee cup from the desk top, before stepping out into the hallway. He glanced toward the entrance to be sure no one was coming in; the glass doors revealed the parking lot outside, and no one coming or going. If they couldn't get enough men to fill the class, the department might scrub the whole project. He sighed deeply, turned and shuffled dishearteningly toward the coffee pot.
Looking up at the building from across the parking lot, Johnny Gage couldn't decide if he even wanted to go in. The Chief had really seemed to want him to look into the new program, but "no additional pay" kept ringing in his ears. Would it be worth it to give up twelve weeks of his time to learn all the medical stuff and not make a dime extra to use it?
He'd spent the morning at the public library reading everything he could find in the newspapers and on microfiche about mobile emergency response units. He already knew enough about the role of the Mayfair Ambulance attendants to realize that it was not what he wanted to do, so if Paramedics were nothing but glorified ambulance attendants, then it would not be the job for him. He had trained long and hard to become a Rescue Man and had no intention of giving that up, but if the Paramedics could still do rescue and then follow through with some life saving medical treatments to ensure that his victims made it to Rampart alive…maybe it was a good thing.
Some guy was in there for another thirty minutes to answer questions and take the papers Johnny held in his right hand, but he didn't know what to do.
It wasn't just the idea of the medical mumbo jumbo he'd read over in the last few hours that had him confused, it was the "what ifs". What if the PM11307 bill to allow them to practice in the field never passed? What if the department decided the program wasn't a benefit? But the biggest what if of all was what if he couldn't do it? What if he made a mistake that cost someone's life? That was a huge "What If".
He slung his leg over his motorcycle and settled back into the seat. This was a bad idea…a waste of his time. If he couldn't make more money, why should he even consider taking the classes?
Roy had returned to the doorway to his office and peeked inside hoping he would find just one more man waiting to sign up. Finding the room empty he went over by the glass doors and looked out. The parking lot looked quiet. Then he saw movement on the far side of the lot beneath the shadow of a large tree. A very young looking, extremely skinny guy sat on his motorcycle staring hard at the building. 'Come on…' He remembered the kid as one of the Rescue squad from 10s. 'Come on…' He sipped his coffee willing the man to come inside and sign up. He didn't know the kid, but he'd heard good things about him from Tony. Roy somehow knew if he signed up he would be good.
But something kept Johnny from cranking his bike, something tugged at the back of his mind.
He wondered if the firemen who had responded to the car accident that killed his parents had some medical training and had begun treatment on the scene like the articles he read today described, would they have survived. If he and Tony had medical training on the call with the electrocution victim would he have been able to return home to his wife and daughter instead of going to the morgue in a black bag?
He unfolded the papers and looked at the signature line. He hadn't signed them yet. 'Why sign them if I'm not gonna do this anyway.'
He got back off the bike and leaned against it…still looking at the paper in his hand. His thoughts drifted back to the basketball game he and Scotty had played earlier. Looking down at his left hand he curled the fingers and opened them back up several times. He could almost feel the sting of the basketball and the heat from the hood of his old clunker of a car. A smile spread across his face at the memory of Scotty's ability to get him to talk…one hoop at a time.
"Anyway as I was getting at. You enjoy working the Rescue Squad, so why not improve on those skills?" Scotty had asked him...and then a few baskets later went on to explain, "Well that training could be the first step…Okay Gage, let's just say you took the training and nothing ever came of that law. You would have the training. You couldn't actually practice it in the field, but you would be trained when and if the law passed. Also you would be able to recognize and understand the symptoms better, so when you did get the victims to the doctors you could tell them what you saw. Either way you could benefit from the training."
Who could argue with Scotty's reasoning? Johnny chuckled softly to himself and nodded. He knew Scotty was right. That's why he'd hurried to shower after shift and head over to headquarters to talk to whoever this guy was waiting inside. He glanced at his watch and realized he didn't have much time. Why couldn't he make up his mind?
He remembered Scotty following him out to the back lot at the station and asking him what he was going to do.
"I don't know Scotty. I have to tell you the whole idea's kind of scary…ya know? I mean I might mess up…someone could be worse off after I get there than they were in the first place. I might make a mistake."
Scotty, who since Johnny's motorcycle had gotten a nail in it when he was still a Boot had made it a habit to park at the end of the row of spaces next to the spot Johnny always stowed his motorcycle, leaned against the front of his truck and looked like he was considering something big.
Johnny now parked on the other side of Scotty's truck…he always backed his car into the space in case he needed a boost to get it started. He leaned against his car and waited to see what Scotty might say.
"Well Boot," Scotty started slowly, "The greatest mistake you can make in life is to be continually fearing you will make one."He slapped Johnny on the back, opened the door and slid in behind the wheel; then without another word he cranked the truck and pulled away.
It had been just the nudge Johnny needed. He at least had to go over to headquarters and ask a few more questions, but first he went to his apartment and switched to his bike. He didn't want to be there in his car if he decided not to sign up and it wouldn't crank. Once he had gotten his bike he'd decided to see if he could find some answers for himself…just in case. He wanted to know everything he could, so he would know if the guy at headquarters was telling the truth or just throwing out a canned response.
Roy had been standing just back from the glass doors so that the man on the motorcycle couldn't see him watching.
Johnny stood up and straightened his shoulders. He looked at the paper in his hand one more time and set out across the parking lot. After several steps he stopped, turned around and walked back to his bike. He ran his hand through his hair and blew out a long breath. Scotty had said that the biggest mistake was fearing you might make one. That's what his problem was right now. The fear of failure…the fear of making the biggest mistake of his life; the fear of the what ifs.
He stood with his back to the building for what felt like a long time, and then he remembered something else Scotty had said.
"Maybe that extra training they're talking about is not such a bad idea…maybe it would be a good thing for you to do. Then you would have that extra ability. Maybe the next victim would live…if you knew what to do. Well that training could be the first step…you would be able to recognize and understand the symptoms better, so when you did get the victims to the doctors you could tell them what you saw. Either way you could benefit from the training."
He turned and faced the building again. Scotty was right. He couldn't let the fear of "what ifs", the fear of mistakes prevent him from trying. His eyes traveled back up to the glass doors, and he stood taller, squared his shoulders once again, and began the journey.
Roy saw him coming and slipped back into the room and behind the desk to wait. He couldn't help the smile that had found residence on his face. This was the one he'd been waiting on, the last man to fill the next Paramedic class.
Johnny walked slowly up to the door with a hand written sign on the window.
He peeked inside, and with a strong desire for change he approached the man assigned to answer questions.
He didn't want to "rescue" any more corpses.
5/20/11
Glancing at his watch he realized time was running out. This was the last day for people to sign up; he had only reserved the room until three o'clock. It was 2:30; he only had thirty minutes to go. He slowly slid his chair back and grabbed the empty coffee cup from the desk top, before stepping out into the hallway. He glanced toward the entrance to be sure no one was coming in; the glass doors revealed the parking lot outside, and no one coming or going. If they couldn't get enough men to fill the class, the department might scrub the whole project. He sighed deeply, turned and shuffled dishearteningly toward the coffee pot.
Looking up at the building from across the parking lot, Johnny Gage couldn't decide if he even wanted to go in. The Chief had really seemed to want him to look into the new program, but "no additional pay" kept ringing in his ears. Would it be worth it to give up twelve weeks of his time to learn all the medical stuff and not make a dime extra to use it?
He'd spent the morning at the public library reading everything he could find in the newspapers and on microfiche about mobile emergency response units. He already knew enough about the role of the Mayfair Ambulance attendants to realize that it was not what he wanted to do, so if Paramedics were nothing but glorified ambulance attendants, then it would not be the job for him. He had trained long and hard to become a Rescue Man and had no intention of giving that up, but if the Paramedics could still do rescue and then follow through with some life saving medical treatments to ensure that his victims made it to Rampart alive…maybe it was a good thing.
Some guy was in there for another thirty minutes to answer questions and take the papers Johnny held in his right hand, but he didn't know what to do.
It wasn't just the idea of the medical mumbo jumbo he'd read over in the last few hours that had him confused, it was the "what ifs". What if the PM11307 bill to allow them to practice in the field never passed? What if the department decided the program wasn't a benefit? But the biggest what if of all was what if he couldn't do it? What if he made a mistake that cost someone's life? That was a huge "What If".
He slung his leg over his motorcycle and settled back into the seat. This was a bad idea…a waste of his time. If he couldn't make more money, why should he even consider taking the classes?
Roy had returned to the doorway to his office and peeked inside hoping he would find just one more man waiting to sign up. Finding the room empty he went over by the glass doors and looked out. The parking lot looked quiet. Then he saw movement on the far side of the lot beneath the shadow of a large tree. A very young looking, extremely skinny guy sat on his motorcycle staring hard at the building. 'Come on…' He remembered the kid as one of the Rescue squad from 10s. 'Come on…' He sipped his coffee willing the man to come inside and sign up. He didn't know the kid, but he'd heard good things about him from Tony. Roy somehow knew if he signed up he would be good.
But something kept Johnny from cranking his bike, something tugged at the back of his mind.
He wondered if the firemen who had responded to the car accident that killed his parents had some medical training and had begun treatment on the scene like the articles he read today described, would they have survived. If he and Tony had medical training on the call with the electrocution victim would he have been able to return home to his wife and daughter instead of going to the morgue in a black bag?
He unfolded the papers and looked at the signature line. He hadn't signed them yet. 'Why sign them if I'm not gonna do this anyway.'
He got back off the bike and leaned against it…still looking at the paper in his hand. His thoughts drifted back to the basketball game he and Scotty had played earlier. Looking down at his left hand he curled the fingers and opened them back up several times. He could almost feel the sting of the basketball and the heat from the hood of his old clunker of a car. A smile spread across his face at the memory of Scotty's ability to get him to talk…one hoop at a time.
"Anyway as I was getting at. You enjoy working the Rescue Squad, so why not improve on those skills?" Scotty had asked him...and then a few baskets later went on to explain, "Well that training could be the first step…Okay Gage, let's just say you took the training and nothing ever came of that law. You would have the training. You couldn't actually practice it in the field, but you would be trained when and if the law passed. Also you would be able to recognize and understand the symptoms better, so when you did get the victims to the doctors you could tell them what you saw. Either way you could benefit from the training."
Who could argue with Scotty's reasoning? Johnny chuckled softly to himself and nodded. He knew Scotty was right. That's why he'd hurried to shower after shift and head over to headquarters to talk to whoever this guy was waiting inside. He glanced at his watch and realized he didn't have much time. Why couldn't he make up his mind?
He remembered Scotty following him out to the back lot at the station and asking him what he was going to do.
"I don't know Scotty. I have to tell you the whole idea's kind of scary…ya know? I mean I might mess up…someone could be worse off after I get there than they were in the first place. I might make a mistake."
Scotty, who since Johnny's motorcycle had gotten a nail in it when he was still a Boot had made it a habit to park at the end of the row of spaces next to the spot Johnny always stowed his motorcycle, leaned against the front of his truck and looked like he was considering something big.
Johnny now parked on the other side of Scotty's truck…he always backed his car into the space in case he needed a boost to get it started. He leaned against his car and waited to see what Scotty might say.
"Well Boot," Scotty started slowly, "The greatest mistake you can make in life is to be continually fearing you will make one."He slapped Johnny on the back, opened the door and slid in behind the wheel; then without another word he cranked the truck and pulled away.
It had been just the nudge Johnny needed. He at least had to go over to headquarters and ask a few more questions, but first he went to his apartment and switched to his bike. He didn't want to be there in his car if he decided not to sign up and it wouldn't crank. Once he had gotten his bike he'd decided to see if he could find some answers for himself…just in case. He wanted to know everything he could, so he would know if the guy at headquarters was telling the truth or just throwing out a canned response.
Roy had been standing just back from the glass doors so that the man on the motorcycle couldn't see him watching.
Johnny stood up and straightened his shoulders. He looked at the paper in his hand one more time and set out across the parking lot. After several steps he stopped, turned around and walked back to his bike. He ran his hand through his hair and blew out a long breath. Scotty had said that the biggest mistake was fearing you might make one. That's what his problem was right now. The fear of failure…the fear of making the biggest mistake of his life; the fear of the what ifs.
He stood with his back to the building for what felt like a long time, and then he remembered something else Scotty had said.
"Maybe that extra training they're talking about is not such a bad idea…maybe it would be a good thing for you to do. Then you would have that extra ability. Maybe the next victim would live…if you knew what to do. Well that training could be the first step…you would be able to recognize and understand the symptoms better, so when you did get the victims to the doctors you could tell them what you saw. Either way you could benefit from the training."
He turned and faced the building again. Scotty was right. He couldn't let the fear of "what ifs", the fear of mistakes prevent him from trying. His eyes traveled back up to the glass doors, and he stood taller, squared his shoulders once again, and began the journey.
Roy saw him coming and slipped back into the room and behind the desk to wait. He couldn't help the smile that had found residence on his face. This was the one he'd been waiting on, the last man to fill the next Paramedic class.
Johnny walked slowly up to the door with a hand written sign on the window.
He peeked inside, and with a strong desire for change he approached the man assigned to answer questions.
He didn't want to "rescue" any more corpses.
5/20/11
~The End~
