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NOTE: The story below is copyrighted to the author, Kalvere. Do not reproduce or distribute in any form without author's permission. In any story based in fact by this author; names, places and certain facts have been altered to protect the privacy of the firefighter's families.
Darrin's Shift
Part1
The fire was perfect. The little boys, Josh and Tyler, loved holding their marshmallows over it on long sticks, letting them burst into little fireballs and then quickly blowing them out. Their father, Dan, watched their antics and smiled. He thought of the years they waited to have a child, and then were blessed with two in a row, less than 11 months apart. He knew he was a very lucky man. To have this family, this home in this nice area, and now he was starting his own contracting business. When the phone rang, he knew it would be his foreman calling, setting things up for the job site.
He took the boys sticks and told them no more marshmallows till he returned. He talked to his foreman on the phone in the kitchen while watching the kids out the window, rolling around in a mock wrestling match. He smiled again ... he found himself smiling a lot.
When the fire began to dim, Josh looked at Tyler and they looked towards the house to see if dad was on his way back. They could see him through the window, still on the phone. Josh said he knew what to do, he saw the red can, he had seen dad use it many times to get the fire going again. Wouldn't dad be proud that he didn't let it go out? Wouldn't he say he was a big boy to have learned by watching him? Tyler was wary, they weren't supposed to go by the fire. But he didn't want it to go out either. Maybe dad would be mad if they let it go out. Maybe he would think it was good of them to keep it going.
Josh tried to shake the liquid from the can, but there was nothing coming out of the little rubber tube attached, so he unscrewed it. He went over and stood with the can above the dying fire, and turned it upside down.
Dan had the floor plans spread out on the table. He was running his finger along the section he and the foreman were discussing, when he heard and felt the Whhuumpp that rattled the windows. He spun to the window, and saw flames reaching high into the morning sky. His eyes scanned the yard for the boys. What happened? Where are they? Part of his mind registered that the fire had spread to two smaller fires ... moving across the grass. Part of his mind knew...
He dropped the phone, crashed through the patio screen door, jumped over the railing of the deck, falling down to one knee ... up again ... running ... running ... he reached the first little fireball and knocked him down, rolled him, slapped the flames with his hands. Then the second. A neighbor ran over with his phone in his hand "I called 911... Oh... Dear God..." Dan collapsed in tears. Stroking the hand of his littlest son. Smelling the burnt flesh. Part of his mind knew his life would never be the same. Part of his mind began to shut down.
When the firefighters arrived they found two badly burned little boys in the grass, one frantic neighbor with a phone in his hand, and one anguished father deep in shock.
Paul and Darrin were first on scene. Paul started working on the older boy, Darrin took charge of the youngest boy. He had no face, no ears, no lips. He tried to find a place to put the needle, to get fluids into him. He talked to him non stop, trying to keep him calm, keep him from slipping into shock. "I'm here, I'll stay with you ... you're such a brave boy. I'm just going to cover you with this ... this won't hurt at all... I'm Darrin, what's your name?" Darrin got in the back of the ambulance, beside the boy, holding the IV bag and breathing apparatus. Talking to him the whole time. Shouting to Paul behind the wheel "Let's go! Let's move!" The boy was slipping away. He grasped Darrin's hand. Darrin leaned down to hear his raspy voice, the boy said "Ty...ler... is my ... name." Darrin smiled down at him, "Hi Tyler... Hang on to me, Buddy." When they arrived at the hospital, Darrin crashed through the ER doors with the gurney, shouting out vitals. He ran alongside, with the boy still clinging to his hand, until the nurses peeled his little
fingers away from Darrin's hand and said "We've got him." When they took him away down the hall, he stood and watched until he disappeared through the swinging double doors at the end. Judy, a nurse he knew well, asked him if he was okay. Darrin said, "I'm fine. I meant to tell them ... his name is Tyler."
Back at the station, Darrin phoned his wife Mary at home. "I was just
thinking of you ... you and the boys ... what are they doing?" He could hear them in the background. His sons, Joey and Tony. Mary answered They're driving me crazy!" Darrin smiled, "That's good ... that's good. I miss you." It was 10:00 AM. The campfire call was the first call of a 24-hour shift that started at 8AM, Darrin hadn't been away from home very long yet. Mary never knew what exactly prompted these sporadic calls from Darrin, but she liked them. They never said much. But she liked the connection with him when he was at the station. She missed him. She worried about him.
Darrin was above all else a family man, deeply devoted to his wife and sons. Joey was 7, Tony was 5. Joey had been to the station many times, putting on the oversized boots and helmet ... he was all set to follow in dad's footsteps. That fatherly part of Darrin was what he drew strength from when dealing with frightened, injured children. He had been a Firefighter for 10 years, it was a part of who he was. He was a calm, logical thinker in the most un-calm, illogical of situations.
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* * *
The call was to a head-on crash. The driver's side of the smaller car was totally obliterated. Muffled screams came from the passenger side. They quickly divided into teams among the two cars, knowing time was of the essence...wondering if there was any time left.
Darrin wedged himself as far as he could into the smaller smashed car to get a read on the occupants...how many...how bad. The woman was grimacing in pain, she looked at him with panic filled eyes. "My husband...I need my husband..." Darrin looked over at Paul, on the driver's side of the car. He met Darrin's eyes and shook his head, in answer to the unspoken question. There was no hope for the driver. He said to the woman "Someone else is with your husband... I can't see him from here." This was the truth ... the kind of truth you tell people when you can't tell them the truth right then. She grimaced again. Darrin said "Tell me what's hurting..." She stared at him and said "Oh God...I need...Eric... I need my husband..." He twisted his body to
see into the car at a different angle. The dash was pushed forward all the way into her lap, pinning her legs completely. There was no way to get her legs out without a lot of dismantling of the car, that would take a lot of time ... and meanwhile her legs were probably not getting any circulation. Then he noticed something else ... and then he understood her pain.
He pushed himself out and straightened up. He got the attention of the crew around the car with a sharp: "Gentlemen!!" They paused at their tasks, confused, and looked at him...waiting ... thinking he would say it was all too late. He said "Gentlemen ... we're having a baby!" There was a stunned delay while they absorbed this news, and then they went about their work with a renewed sense of urgency. Darrin conferred with the crew chief and some others ... her legs were totally crushed under the dash, she was pinned up to her pelvis. "We can't cut the dash off of her in time, can we cut the seat out from under her? I know it will shake her up, but damn...where's this baby going to go?" The crew chief called in for a chopper, and more help.
This was her first baby. She kept asking for her husband. Darrin talked to her and calmed her as best he could. He never lied about her husband, but he never directly answered her either. He tried to get her to focus on helping them to help her. The entire crew could concentrate on freeing her now. The occupants of the other car, a man and a woman, were beyond help. She was the only survivor of the crash.
A young police officer ran up to them, radio in hand, "They're bringing in LifeFlight, landing at the end of the bridge" Darrin told him, "Be sure they know we have a woman in labor ... there'll be two patients... " The cop looked shocked, peered into the car. "Damn... " The cop turned away, talking rapidly into the radio.
Darrin scraped up his arms and twisted his back wedging himself into a position to catch the baby in a space not even big enough for his arm to fit. The crew worked like a well oiled machine, silent unless calling out what they needed help with, what was secured, what was accomplished. Running lines into her, running equipment all around her. She was screaming, the pain of her injuries adding to the pain of delivering a baby through her broken pelvic bones. But somehow ... in a crash that had taken three lives, one life was granted. Darrin maneuvered himself out of the torn apart car, with a tiny baby screaming in his arms. He yelled to the woman, "It's a boy! It's a boy!" She cried ... the baby cried ... and the rescue workers tried to pretend they weren't crying.
As they wheeled her to the waiting helicopter, she gripped Darrin's arm "Tell me ... tell me the truth ... please?" Darrin said he would tell her the truth if he knew the answer. She asked, "Eric ... my husband ... is he dead?" Darrin looked directly into her eyes, laying his hand on her hand, "Yes ... but I don't think he ever left here. I think he coached you. I think he is here now with you, do you feel him?" He saw a pain in her eyes that went beyond her physical pain. She asked him "What is your name?" and when he told her, just before they loaded her into the chopper, she looked at the baby and said "I'm going to name him Eric Darrin".
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* * *
The call was vague... "child trapped." Hard to prepare, equipment or mentally, with so little information. The woman who called was on a cell phone. Dispatch heard "child trapped," and "her arm is caught." They knew nothing else, beyond the address. The phone had cut out.
Michael drove the rescue van, Larry rode beside him. They were a good team. Michael was proud to work with someone of Larry's experience. He was a big, boisterous man, with an infectious grin and an upbeat attitude. But now, he was looking serious, imagining all the possibilities they might be coming up against.
When they arrived at the home, a woman answered the door with a sheepish look on her face. "Thank you for coming, I just wasn't sure what else to do." They followed her down the hall, to the bathroom, where a sobbing little girl had her arm inside the toilet bowl, stuck almost up to her shoulder. Larry and Michael looked at each other and smiled. Larry sat right down cross legged on the floor, eye level with the little girl. "Wanted to see where the water went, did ya?" The girl nodded her tear streaked face. Michael asked the mother if she had any cooking oil. She nodded her head towards a bottle on the sink. "I tried that. I tried everything." Larry told Michael to hand it to him, "I have some of that special fireman oil additive." The girl looked at him with interest, intently watching Larry take a small white plastic bottle from his pocket and make a show of "adding" it to the bottle of oil.
Larry knew that the child was tensed up, probably involuntarily had her hand in a fist. Whenever the mom tried to pull her arm out, the anticipation of pain would cause her to scream and tense up more. The mom, not being able to bear to cause pain to her daughter, would stop. Larry knew if he could get her distracted and relaxed, she'd relax the arm and the fist, and Michael could probably maneuver her arm out. Plan B of course, would work too, but would do some damage to the toilet fixture!
Larry explained that there were magic ingredients in the oil now, while
Michael rubbed it down her arm. At the same time he was feeling the angles of her arm, trying to picture how it was turned inside the hole. Larry talked to her, keeping a steady stream of banter and keeping her eyes on him, not on her arm. Michael got it out to the elbow, when the girl screamed in pain. The mother jumped, Michael stopped. Larry just kept talking. "That only felt funny, it didn't really hurt did it?" and he continued where he and the child had left off. The mother was getting frustrated, told them she didn't care if they smashed the toilet, just get her out. But they knew there were risks involved, and hoped to avoid that scenario. The mother's frustration caused the girl to tense up again. Larry got the girl calmed back down. At one point, she asked him why he had a helmet on in the house. Larry laughed, "I must look silly with a helmet on in the bathroom!" The little girl laughed, and at that moment, Michael got the rest of her arm out.
When they were leaving, Larry tipped his hat to the Mom, and said "So... Mom ... where does the water go?" Just as he walked out the door, he heard the daughter asking her to 'splain it to her. Him and Michael laughed all the way back to the station. "So what's the magic oil additive?" Michael asked. Larry took the white bottle out of his pocket, "Tylenol!" Michael told him he should have given it to the mother. Then Michael asked sarcastically, "So, you think this story will make the front page?" Larry replied, "Oh Hell yeah! I was damn heroic. I think I lost all feeling in my legs sitting on the floor like that, that's gotta count for something!" They rode in silence for a while, smiling to them selves. Then Larry asked, with that infectious grin, "But Michael, seriously ... where does the water go?"
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* * *
Darrin had brought in a heart attack patient to the ER. While they were there, Darrin saw his nurse friend, Judy. He asked her about the two burned boys from that morning's first call. They would survive, but had a long road to recovery ahead, and would be disfigured. He asked her about the baby that LifeFlight had brought in, from the head on crash. Judy brightened, "That baby is an absolute miracle, he's feisty! He's doing great!" Darrin smiled, "What about the Mom? Can they save her legs?" Judy looked confused. Darrin repeated "The baby's mother, from the crash, her legs were pretty badly crushed." Judy's eyes slid back and forth between Darrin and an older couple who were walking towards them, clinging to each other. She touched Darrin's arm, while still looking at the couple, and told him "The baby's mother was DOA. She died in flight." The older couple approached them, they were holding tightly to each other and looked worn and gray, as if they carried all the troubles of the world. The woman said to Judy, "We had to make some calls ... may we see him again?" and Judy answered in her gentle way, "Of course, you can see him, he's yours." She turned to Darrin, "This is Roger and Debra. The woman you were asking me about, who had the baby ... these are her parents..." She turned to the couple; "Darrin delivered the baby at the accident scene." The father, Roger, reached out to shake Darrin's hand, saying "Thank you, sir. Thank you for saving our grandson... I only wish..." His eyes filled with tears. Darrin shook his hand "I'm... so sorry ... for your loss" He was caught off guard, he didn't know what to say. Why are you thanking me? I couldn't save your daughter. The woman looked at the man as if prompting him, he nodded slightly, and asked Darrin "Could you tell us...? We wondered ... did she get to see her baby ... before she... " He was unable to finish the sentence. Darrin told him "Yes, she was awake and alert ... and pain free ... while the baby was delivered. She saw him, she touched him ... she even told me what his name was going to be." The couple looked at each other. Darrin could see this seemed to bring some tiny measure of comfort to them. Roger, the father, spoke again, "She named him? Please...do you remember what she said?" "Yes," Darrin answered, "she named the baby Eric..." He looked at the father's eyes, and said, "Eric Roger. She named him Eric Roger."
As Darrin walked away, he thought the woman wouldn't mind that he had given the baby a different middle name. He wished he could tell her, and tell her he was sorry he didn't save her. Then he realized, he didn't even know the woman's name. He probably never would.
It was 8PM, Darrin's shift was half over.
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* * *
The call was to a multi-vehicle crash. Michael and Larry were called out first. Darrin and Paul were standing by, it was a sure thing they'd be calling for more help.
As Michael raced to the scene a car came out of a side street ... it never slowed down. He hit the brakes, turned to the right to avoid it, but the car had the same reaction and turned to the right at the same time, it was still in his path. He saw the driver for an instant in a blur of long brown hair. Then directly in his line of sight was the back seat window behind the driver, with a terrified little boy with eyes as huge as saucers, mouth open in an "O" in a silent scream, staring out at Michael. Michael cranked the wheel hard to the left, pumping the brakes "Hang on!" He knew he would throw it in the ditch, lose control, and still hit the car ... he just hoped against all hope that he wouldn't hit directly where this little boy was strapped securely into his seat.
The rescue van hit, climbed partway up the car ... they were almost airborne for a moment, both front wheels completely off the ground, and then they began to tip and slammed down on the passenger side, and continued to roll. The car spun away. Michael had two questions go through his mind: Did I kill that little boy? and Why is the world suddenly upside down and spinning? He felt a weight fall on top of him. The last thing he saw before everything went dark was a blur of red and white: The light bar from the top of the rescue vehicle cartwheeling end over end down the street, leaving a trail of tiny bits of red and white.
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* * *
Moments later, Darrin got the call to the multi-MVA scene. He was already on the road before he learned he was not additional help, he was replacing Rescue 12, that never made it there. He tried to find out if Michael and Larry were all right, but there was no information available. He had to put it out of his mind, and concentrate on the work to be done.
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* * *
Michael opened his eyes and saw fragments of light. The windshield was a spider web of cracks, bulging inward. He was aware of a sharp edge cutting into his cheek, and fragments of light flickering in his eyes. He thought he could push out the windshield and crawl out, but when he tried to stretch towards it, blinding pain shot up and down his back. He felt like he was drifting in a fog, everything looked fuzzy around the edges. He tried to clear his mind. His cheek was resting on the edge of the roof-mounted radio, the van had come to rest upside down. He could see his arm beneath his head, but couldn't move it or feel it. Then he slowly realized it was Larry's arm he was laying on. "Larry? Larry, you OK buddy? ...Larry? Can you hear me?" If he looked down, he could see Larry's leg draped across his own. They had been thrown together like two discarded rag dolls.
He felt the coiled cord of the radio and started dragging the hand mic to his face. Have to ... call it in... What's the code? What's my location?... God... I can't remember... Where was I going? He started talking weakly into the mic "...We're ... down ... we crashed ... we're down ... hello??" He heard a woman's voice, sounding very far away "Rescue 12? It was called in, we have help coming for you. Rescue 12, What is your condition?" Rescue 12... is that me? Am I Rescue 12? "My back... Larry doesn't talk, he doesn't move ... he needs help..." The woman's voice again, "We have help on the way, hang on. Just a few minutes they'll be there. Can you tell me more about Larry's condition?" He tried to place the voice, he thought he had heard it before, he wasn't sure. The fog was closing in again. He said "Larry is behind me... I can't see him, I can't turn my head ... he needs help."
The woman continued to assure him they would be helped soon. And soon he heard pounding on the van, and voices calling his name, telling him to stay back from the windshield. He heard noises, something shattering, then beams of light played across his eyes. He saw dark shapes reaching for him, heard voices talking to him. He knew these voices ... but he couldn't think of how he knew them, or who they were. He said to them "Larry is behind me."
He closed his eyes and let himself relax ... let the fog roll in ... help was here. They were strapping his head to a back board when he remembered ... his eyes snapped open, he reached up and grabbed the sleeve of the man who was strapping him down, "Hey ... there was a little boy ... we hit a car ... there was a boy..." He looked at the helmeted face above him, he knew him ... who was he? He searched the man's eyes. The eyes were kind and concerned. He answered "There was a woman and a boy, Michael, and they're both OK." He continued to stare at his eyes, looking for a sign that he was holding something back, the man seemed to know that's what he was doing. "They're OK, Michael, really. I promise. Minor injuries ... fractured arm, lacerations, contusions ... like that. They'll both be fine." He knows my name... I know him... Why can't I remember? He looked in his eyes again, still gripping his sleeve, "What about Larry?" The man finished strapping him in, his face a grim mask. He answered with his eyes averted, "I don't know." Then he looked away.
He knew.
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* * *
Continued in Part Two
Copywrite Kalvere, Kal The Rebel@aol.com
The Author has given me permission to post this. Please do not forward it in email.
Submitted by Richard
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Darrin's Shift
Part1
The fire was perfect. The little boys, Josh and Tyler, loved holding their marshmallows over it on long sticks, letting them burst into little fireballs and then quickly blowing them out. Their father, Dan, watched their antics and smiled. He thought of the years they waited to have a child, and then were blessed with two in a row, less than 11 months apart. He knew he was a very lucky man. To have this family, this home in this nice area, and now he was starting his own contracting business. When the phone rang, he knew it would be his foreman calling, setting things up for the job site.
He took the boys sticks and told them no more marshmallows till he returned. He talked to his foreman on the phone in the kitchen while watching the kids out the window, rolling around in a mock wrestling match. He smiled again ... he found himself smiling a lot.
When the fire began to dim, Josh looked at Tyler and they looked towards the house to see if dad was on his way back. They could see him through the window, still on the phone. Josh said he knew what to do, he saw the red can, he had seen dad use it many times to get the fire going again. Wouldn't dad be proud that he didn't let it go out? Wouldn't he say he was a big boy to have learned by watching him? Tyler was wary, they weren't supposed to go by the fire. But he didn't want it to go out either. Maybe dad would be mad if they let it go out. Maybe he would think it was good of them to keep it going.
Josh tried to shake the liquid from the can, but there was nothing coming out of the little rubber tube attached, so he unscrewed it. He went over and stood with the can above the dying fire, and turned it upside down.
Dan had the floor plans spread out on the table. He was running his finger along the section he and the foreman were discussing, when he heard and felt the Whhuumpp that rattled the windows. He spun to the window, and saw flames reaching high into the morning sky. His eyes scanned the yard for the boys. What happened? Where are they? Part of his mind registered that the fire had spread to two smaller fires ... moving across the grass. Part of his mind knew...
He dropped the phone, crashed through the patio screen door, jumped over the railing of the deck, falling down to one knee ... up again ... running ... running ... he reached the first little fireball and knocked him down, rolled him, slapped the flames with his hands. Then the second. A neighbor ran over with his phone in his hand "I called 911... Oh... Dear God..." Dan collapsed in tears. Stroking the hand of his littlest son. Smelling the burnt flesh. Part of his mind knew his life would never be the same. Part of his mind began to shut down.
When the firefighters arrived they found two badly burned little boys in the grass, one frantic neighbor with a phone in his hand, and one anguished father deep in shock.
Paul and Darrin were first on scene. Paul started working on the older boy, Darrin took charge of the youngest boy. He had no face, no ears, no lips. He tried to find a place to put the needle, to get fluids into him. He talked to him non stop, trying to keep him calm, keep him from slipping into shock. "I'm here, I'll stay with you ... you're such a brave boy. I'm just going to cover you with this ... this won't hurt at all... I'm Darrin, what's your name?" Darrin got in the back of the ambulance, beside the boy, holding the IV bag and breathing apparatus. Talking to him the whole time. Shouting to Paul behind the wheel "Let's go! Let's move!" The boy was slipping away. He grasped Darrin's hand. Darrin leaned down to hear his raspy voice, the boy said "Ty...ler... is my ... name." Darrin smiled down at him, "Hi Tyler... Hang on to me, Buddy." When they arrived at the hospital, Darrin crashed through the ER doors with the gurney, shouting out vitals. He ran alongside, with the boy still clinging to his hand, until the nurses peeled his little
fingers away from Darrin's hand and said "We've got him." When they took him away down the hall, he stood and watched until he disappeared through the swinging double doors at the end. Judy, a nurse he knew well, asked him if he was okay. Darrin said, "I'm fine. I meant to tell them ... his name is Tyler."
Back at the station, Darrin phoned his wife Mary at home. "I was just
thinking of you ... you and the boys ... what are they doing?" He could hear them in the background. His sons, Joey and Tony. Mary answered They're driving me crazy!" Darrin smiled, "That's good ... that's good. I miss you." It was 10:00 AM. The campfire call was the first call of a 24-hour shift that started at 8AM, Darrin hadn't been away from home very long yet. Mary never knew what exactly prompted these sporadic calls from Darrin, but she liked them. They never said much. But she liked the connection with him when he was at the station. She missed him. She worried about him.
Darrin was above all else a family man, deeply devoted to his wife and sons. Joey was 7, Tony was 5. Joey had been to the station many times, putting on the oversized boots and helmet ... he was all set to follow in dad's footsteps. That fatherly part of Darrin was what he drew strength from when dealing with frightened, injured children. He had been a Firefighter for 10 years, it was a part of who he was. He was a calm, logical thinker in the most un-calm, illogical of situations.
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* * *
The call was to a head-on crash. The driver's side of the smaller car was totally obliterated. Muffled screams came from the passenger side. They quickly divided into teams among the two cars, knowing time was of the essence...wondering if there was any time left.
Darrin wedged himself as far as he could into the smaller smashed car to get a read on the occupants...how many...how bad. The woman was grimacing in pain, she looked at him with panic filled eyes. "My husband...I need my husband..." Darrin looked over at Paul, on the driver's side of the car. He met Darrin's eyes and shook his head, in answer to the unspoken question. There was no hope for the driver. He said to the woman "Someone else is with your husband... I can't see him from here." This was the truth ... the kind of truth you tell people when you can't tell them the truth right then. She grimaced again. Darrin said "Tell me what's hurting..." She stared at him and said "Oh God...I need...Eric... I need my husband..." He twisted his body to
see into the car at a different angle. The dash was pushed forward all the way into her lap, pinning her legs completely. There was no way to get her legs out without a lot of dismantling of the car, that would take a lot of time ... and meanwhile her legs were probably not getting any circulation. Then he noticed something else ... and then he understood her pain.
He pushed himself out and straightened up. He got the attention of the crew around the car with a sharp: "Gentlemen!!" They paused at their tasks, confused, and looked at him...waiting ... thinking he would say it was all too late. He said "Gentlemen ... we're having a baby!" There was a stunned delay while they absorbed this news, and then they went about their work with a renewed sense of urgency. Darrin conferred with the crew chief and some others ... her legs were totally crushed under the dash, she was pinned up to her pelvis. "We can't cut the dash off of her in time, can we cut the seat out from under her? I know it will shake her up, but damn...where's this baby going to go?" The crew chief called in for a chopper, and more help.
This was her first baby. She kept asking for her husband. Darrin talked to her and calmed her as best he could. He never lied about her husband, but he never directly answered her either. He tried to get her to focus on helping them to help her. The entire crew could concentrate on freeing her now. The occupants of the other car, a man and a woman, were beyond help. She was the only survivor of the crash.
A young police officer ran up to them, radio in hand, "They're bringing in LifeFlight, landing at the end of the bridge" Darrin told him, "Be sure they know we have a woman in labor ... there'll be two patients... " The cop looked shocked, peered into the car. "Damn... " The cop turned away, talking rapidly into the radio.
Darrin scraped up his arms and twisted his back wedging himself into a position to catch the baby in a space not even big enough for his arm to fit. The crew worked like a well oiled machine, silent unless calling out what they needed help with, what was secured, what was accomplished. Running lines into her, running equipment all around her. She was screaming, the pain of her injuries adding to the pain of delivering a baby through her broken pelvic bones. But somehow ... in a crash that had taken three lives, one life was granted. Darrin maneuvered himself out of the torn apart car, with a tiny baby screaming in his arms. He yelled to the woman, "It's a boy! It's a boy!" She cried ... the baby cried ... and the rescue workers tried to pretend they weren't crying.
As they wheeled her to the waiting helicopter, she gripped Darrin's arm "Tell me ... tell me the truth ... please?" Darrin said he would tell her the truth if he knew the answer. She asked, "Eric ... my husband ... is he dead?" Darrin looked directly into her eyes, laying his hand on her hand, "Yes ... but I don't think he ever left here. I think he coached you. I think he is here now with you, do you feel him?" He saw a pain in her eyes that went beyond her physical pain. She asked him "What is your name?" and when he told her, just before they loaded her into the chopper, she looked at the baby and said "I'm going to name him Eric Darrin".
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* * *
The call was vague... "child trapped." Hard to prepare, equipment or mentally, with so little information. The woman who called was on a cell phone. Dispatch heard "child trapped," and "her arm is caught." They knew nothing else, beyond the address. The phone had cut out.
Michael drove the rescue van, Larry rode beside him. They were a good team. Michael was proud to work with someone of Larry's experience. He was a big, boisterous man, with an infectious grin and an upbeat attitude. But now, he was looking serious, imagining all the possibilities they might be coming up against.
When they arrived at the home, a woman answered the door with a sheepish look on her face. "Thank you for coming, I just wasn't sure what else to do." They followed her down the hall, to the bathroom, where a sobbing little girl had her arm inside the toilet bowl, stuck almost up to her shoulder. Larry and Michael looked at each other and smiled. Larry sat right down cross legged on the floor, eye level with the little girl. "Wanted to see where the water went, did ya?" The girl nodded her tear streaked face. Michael asked the mother if she had any cooking oil. She nodded her head towards a bottle on the sink. "I tried that. I tried everything." Larry told Michael to hand it to him, "I have some of that special fireman oil additive." The girl looked at him with interest, intently watching Larry take a small white plastic bottle from his pocket and make a show of "adding" it to the bottle of oil.
Larry knew that the child was tensed up, probably involuntarily had her hand in a fist. Whenever the mom tried to pull her arm out, the anticipation of pain would cause her to scream and tense up more. The mom, not being able to bear to cause pain to her daughter, would stop. Larry knew if he could get her distracted and relaxed, she'd relax the arm and the fist, and Michael could probably maneuver her arm out. Plan B of course, would work too, but would do some damage to the toilet fixture!
Larry explained that there were magic ingredients in the oil now, while
Michael rubbed it down her arm. At the same time he was feeling the angles of her arm, trying to picture how it was turned inside the hole. Larry talked to her, keeping a steady stream of banter and keeping her eyes on him, not on her arm. Michael got it out to the elbow, when the girl screamed in pain. The mother jumped, Michael stopped. Larry just kept talking. "That only felt funny, it didn't really hurt did it?" and he continued where he and the child had left off. The mother was getting frustrated, told them she didn't care if they smashed the toilet, just get her out. But they knew there were risks involved, and hoped to avoid that scenario. The mother's frustration caused the girl to tense up again. Larry got the girl calmed back down. At one point, she asked him why he had a helmet on in the house. Larry laughed, "I must look silly with a helmet on in the bathroom!" The little girl laughed, and at that moment, Michael got the rest of her arm out.
When they were leaving, Larry tipped his hat to the Mom, and said "So... Mom ... where does the water go?" Just as he walked out the door, he heard the daughter asking her to 'splain it to her. Him and Michael laughed all the way back to the station. "So what's the magic oil additive?" Michael asked. Larry took the white bottle out of his pocket, "Tylenol!" Michael told him he should have given it to the mother. Then Michael asked sarcastically, "So, you think this story will make the front page?" Larry replied, "Oh Hell yeah! I was damn heroic. I think I lost all feeling in my legs sitting on the floor like that, that's gotta count for something!" They rode in silence for a while, smiling to them selves. Then Larry asked, with that infectious grin, "But Michael, seriously ... where does the water go?"
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* * *
Darrin had brought in a heart attack patient to the ER. While they were there, Darrin saw his nurse friend, Judy. He asked her about the two burned boys from that morning's first call. They would survive, but had a long road to recovery ahead, and would be disfigured. He asked her about the baby that LifeFlight had brought in, from the head on crash. Judy brightened, "That baby is an absolute miracle, he's feisty! He's doing great!" Darrin smiled, "What about the Mom? Can they save her legs?" Judy looked confused. Darrin repeated "The baby's mother, from the crash, her legs were pretty badly crushed." Judy's eyes slid back and forth between Darrin and an older couple who were walking towards them, clinging to each other. She touched Darrin's arm, while still looking at the couple, and told him "The baby's mother was DOA. She died in flight." The older couple approached them, they were holding tightly to each other and looked worn and gray, as if they carried all the troubles of the world. The woman said to Judy, "We had to make some calls ... may we see him again?" and Judy answered in her gentle way, "Of course, you can see him, he's yours." She turned to Darrin, "This is Roger and Debra. The woman you were asking me about, who had the baby ... these are her parents..." She turned to the couple; "Darrin delivered the baby at the accident scene." The father, Roger, reached out to shake Darrin's hand, saying "Thank you, sir. Thank you for saving our grandson... I only wish..." His eyes filled with tears. Darrin shook his hand "I'm... so sorry ... for your loss" He was caught off guard, he didn't know what to say. Why are you thanking me? I couldn't save your daughter. The woman looked at the man as if prompting him, he nodded slightly, and asked Darrin "Could you tell us...? We wondered ... did she get to see her baby ... before she... " He was unable to finish the sentence. Darrin told him "Yes, she was awake and alert ... and pain free ... while the baby was delivered. She saw him, she touched him ... she even told me what his name was going to be." The couple looked at each other. Darrin could see this seemed to bring some tiny measure of comfort to them. Roger, the father, spoke again, "She named him? Please...do you remember what she said?" "Yes," Darrin answered, "she named the baby Eric..." He looked at the father's eyes, and said, "Eric Roger. She named him Eric Roger."
As Darrin walked away, he thought the woman wouldn't mind that he had given the baby a different middle name. He wished he could tell her, and tell her he was sorry he didn't save her. Then he realized, he didn't even know the woman's name. He probably never would.
It was 8PM, Darrin's shift was half over.
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* * *
The call was to a multi-vehicle crash. Michael and Larry were called out first. Darrin and Paul were standing by, it was a sure thing they'd be calling for more help.
As Michael raced to the scene a car came out of a side street ... it never slowed down. He hit the brakes, turned to the right to avoid it, but the car had the same reaction and turned to the right at the same time, it was still in his path. He saw the driver for an instant in a blur of long brown hair. Then directly in his line of sight was the back seat window behind the driver, with a terrified little boy with eyes as huge as saucers, mouth open in an "O" in a silent scream, staring out at Michael. Michael cranked the wheel hard to the left, pumping the brakes "Hang on!" He knew he would throw it in the ditch, lose control, and still hit the car ... he just hoped against all hope that he wouldn't hit directly where this little boy was strapped securely into his seat.
The rescue van hit, climbed partway up the car ... they were almost airborne for a moment, both front wheels completely off the ground, and then they began to tip and slammed down on the passenger side, and continued to roll. The car spun away. Michael had two questions go through his mind: Did I kill that little boy? and Why is the world suddenly upside down and spinning? He felt a weight fall on top of him. The last thing he saw before everything went dark was a blur of red and white: The light bar from the top of the rescue vehicle cartwheeling end over end down the street, leaving a trail of tiny bits of red and white.
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* * *
Moments later, Darrin got the call to the multi-MVA scene. He was already on the road before he learned he was not additional help, he was replacing Rescue 12, that never made it there. He tried to find out if Michael and Larry were all right, but there was no information available. He had to put it out of his mind, and concentrate on the work to be done.
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* * *
Michael opened his eyes and saw fragments of light. The windshield was a spider web of cracks, bulging inward. He was aware of a sharp edge cutting into his cheek, and fragments of light flickering in his eyes. He thought he could push out the windshield and crawl out, but when he tried to stretch towards it, blinding pain shot up and down his back. He felt like he was drifting in a fog, everything looked fuzzy around the edges. He tried to clear his mind. His cheek was resting on the edge of the roof-mounted radio, the van had come to rest upside down. He could see his arm beneath his head, but couldn't move it or feel it. Then he slowly realized it was Larry's arm he was laying on. "Larry? Larry, you OK buddy? ...Larry? Can you hear me?" If he looked down, he could see Larry's leg draped across his own. They had been thrown together like two discarded rag dolls.
He felt the coiled cord of the radio and started dragging the hand mic to his face. Have to ... call it in... What's the code? What's my location?... God... I can't remember... Where was I going? He started talking weakly into the mic "...We're ... down ... we crashed ... we're down ... hello??" He heard a woman's voice, sounding very far away "Rescue 12? It was called in, we have help coming for you. Rescue 12, What is your condition?" Rescue 12... is that me? Am I Rescue 12? "My back... Larry doesn't talk, he doesn't move ... he needs help..." The woman's voice again, "We have help on the way, hang on. Just a few minutes they'll be there. Can you tell me more about Larry's condition?" He tried to place the voice, he thought he had heard it before, he wasn't sure. The fog was closing in again. He said "Larry is behind me... I can't see him, I can't turn my head ... he needs help."
The woman continued to assure him they would be helped soon. And soon he heard pounding on the van, and voices calling his name, telling him to stay back from the windshield. He heard noises, something shattering, then beams of light played across his eyes. He saw dark shapes reaching for him, heard voices talking to him. He knew these voices ... but he couldn't think of how he knew them, or who they were. He said to them "Larry is behind me."
He closed his eyes and let himself relax ... let the fog roll in ... help was here. They were strapping his head to a back board when he remembered ... his eyes snapped open, he reached up and grabbed the sleeve of the man who was strapping him down, "Hey ... there was a little boy ... we hit a car ... there was a boy..." He looked at the helmeted face above him, he knew him ... who was he? He searched the man's eyes. The eyes were kind and concerned. He answered "There was a woman and a boy, Michael, and they're both OK." He continued to stare at his eyes, looking for a sign that he was holding something back, the man seemed to know that's what he was doing. "They're OK, Michael, really. I promise. Minor injuries ... fractured arm, lacerations, contusions ... like that. They'll both be fine." He knows my name... I know him... Why can't I remember? He looked in his eyes again, still gripping his sleeve, "What about Larry?" The man finished strapping him in, his face a grim mask. He answered with his eyes averted, "I don't know." Then he looked away.
He knew.
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* * *
Continued in Part Two
Copywrite Kalvere, Kal The Rebel@aol.com
The Author has given me permission to post this. Please do not forward it in email.
Submitted by Richard
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