LEST WE FORGET
By:
Kenda
An Emergency, Touched By An Angel
crossover story, though the emphasis is on the characters from Emergency.
Lest We Forget is dedicated to my
readers. Your input regarding what
elements you enjoy most in a fan fic story provides continuous inspiration.
Lest
We Forget
They
shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old
Age
shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the
going down of the sun, and in the morning,
We
will remember them.
Amen.*
*Lest We Forget - a sonnet written
during the first World War and often recited at funerals of war veterans.
The
woman sat curled in a corner of her couch with a box of Kleenex in her
lap. Tissues soiled by tears and mucus
were crumpled into balls and piled on the end table at her left elbow. The volume on the TV was so low she could
barely hear the reporter’s voice. Not
that it mattered. The pictures that had
been broadcast all day told the story.
It was April 30th, 1975, and Saigon was falling to the North
Vietnamese.
“Why
the hell am I sitting here crying?” the woman asked the empty room as she wiped
at fresh tears. “What the hell is wrong
with me lately? All I want to do is cry,
dammit.”
Unseen
by the home’s owner were the two women sitting at the dining room table. The house was an old but stately bungalow
with a wide front porch. A wicker settee accompanied by two wicker rocking
chairs made the porch an inviting place to relax. The rooms within the house were spacious and airy, possessing
ten-foot high ceilings. The living and
dining areas formed one big room separated only by an archway trimmed with the
type of elaborately carved woodworking that hadn’t been used in more than fifty
years now. The kitchen, with its maple
cabinets, maple drop-leaf table, and sky-blue Priscilla curtains hanging neatly
at all three windows, was behind the dining room. The arched hallway that ran behind the living room housed two
large bedrooms and a bathroom. Tucked
away at the rear of the house was a laundry room that had at one time been a
back porch.
“Her
language is a bit on the foul side, Tess.”
“Yes,
Angel Girl, it is. But you must forgive
her for that slip of the tongue. She’s
a veteran of the United States Army, she is.”
“Ah,
I see,” Monica nodded. “Yes, those who
have served this beautiful country are prone to rough language now and again as
I have come to learn.”
“Yes,
they are. But don’t let that fool you,
baby. This gal is nothing but a lady.”
“She’s
so sad, Tess,” Monica observed as the woman plucked another Kleenex from the
box. “And she seems confused. As if she doesn’t know why she’s crying.”
“She
doesn’t.”
“But
how can someone hurt this badly and not know why?”
“Years
of denial.”
“Pardon
me?”
“Years
of denial, Angel Girl. This woman is a
veteran of the Korean War. She was just
twenty years old when she first signed up to serve. Not much more than a child
really. She witnessed so many things
that broke her heart. But she was a
nurse. It was her job to be strong for
everyone else. It still is. So, over the years, she’s learned to hide
her pain. But on some days that pain is
too much for her to bear. Like today.”
“Because
of what’s happening in Vietnam,” Monica guessed, as she caught sight of the
helicopter taking off from the roof of the United States embassy as played out
on the color console television set.
“That’s
right. There have been so many things
about this war that remind her of the war she served in. Though she might not know it, today she’s
crying because she’s certain everyone will forget.”
“Forget
what?”
“The
war. The men and women who have fought
so hard for so many years now. The men and
women who have lost their lives during what has turned out to be an unpopular
campaign. Do you know what they call
the conflict she served in?”
“No. What?”
“The
Forgotten War. And that’s how she feels
today. Forgotten. Forgotten, unappreciated, and unneeded.”
“But
every human being needs to feel needed.
Pardon me for the poor sentence structure, but it’s so true, Tess.”
“You’re
right, baby, it is.”
“So
that’s our job here? To make her feel
needed again?”
“Oh,
no, Angel Girl. We can’t do that. Only she can find that feeling within
herself.”
“Then
what is our job? How are we supposed to
help her?”
“We’re
not.”
“But
she’s crying, Tess. We have to help her.”
Tess
reached out a pudgy hand and patted Monica on the arm. “You have such a kind heart, Angel
Girl. You remind me of someone else
we’re going to meet on this assignment.”
“Someone
else?”
“A
young man by the name of John Gage.”
“John
Gage,” Monica repeated with a thoughtful expression. “John Gage. Isn’t he the
one Andrew’s always being put on stand-by for?”
“That’s
right,” the Angel Of Death said as he stepped from the kitchen to join his
colleagues. “He’s the one.”
“So
are you finally going to get to take Mr. Gage home to Heaven, Andrew?”
“I
don’t know, Monica. Every time I assume
that’s God’s plan things change. Mr.
Gage appears to be very needed here on Earth.”
“Well,
that’s good. At least that means he’s
not sitting alone in his home crying.”
“No,
he’s not,” Tess agreed. “But then John Gage
doesn’t sit for very long on any given day.”
“Ah,”
Monica nodded, “he’s busy.”
“Always,
Angel Girl, even if that term just means flitting from place to place. He’s a young man with boundless energy and
an enthusiasm for life that outshines the morning sun.”
“Is
he in Vietnam?”
“No. He’s right here in Los Angeles. He’s a fireman. A fireman and a paramedic.”
“Oh,
how exciting. I’ve always wanted to
drive a fire truck. Will I have my own
helmet and turn out coat? Maybe a big
pair of those rubber goulashes firemen wear when they go to a fire? Will I be able to pull out an inch and a
half? Or cook chili for the guys when
we get back to the station after putting out a big blaze?”
“Now
you just stop talkin’ nonsense. No,
you’re not gettin’ no helmet or rubber goulashes. And you most certainly will not be driving a fire
truck. You’ll be working at Rampart
General Hospital.”
Monica
smiled. “Doctor Monica. I like the sound of that.”
“You
ain’t gonna be no doctor, either, so you just get that idea right on outta your
head, too.”
“But
if I’m not going to be a firefighter, or a doctor, what am I going to
be?”
“That
depends on Mr. Gage. And her.”
Monica’s
eyes went back to the weeping woman in the living room. “Why?”
“Because
John Gage has to live long enough for you to be part of this assignment.”
Monica
looked at Andrew who was still standing in the doorway between the dining room
and kitchen. The Angel Of Death
shrugged his shoulders.
“You
know as well as I do that sometimes the only thing that keeps humans from
crossing into our world is their will to live,” Tess said. “Or their will to
die.”
“But
Mr. Gage has always been such a strong young man in the past. He’s always had a
fierce will to live.”
“Yes,
he has, Monica,” Tess agreed. “But this
time he’s going to need some help finding that will.”
“Finding
it from where?”
“From
her.”
Monica
made a skeptical face. “If you’ll
pardon me for saying this, Tess, she doesn’t appear to be in any condition to
help even herself at the moment. Let
alone anyone else.”
“That’s
true, Angel Girl. But don’t you
see? That’s part of God’s plan.”
“His
plan?”
“Yes. In order to help themselves, John Gage and
Dixie McCall must first help one another.”
Monica
looked at Andrew who nodded his confirmation to Tess’s words.
“But
what if they don’t? Help each other
that is?”
Tess
heaved a sad sigh. “Then John Gage will die long before his time on this Earth
is due to come to an end. And while
she’ll still live on in body, Dixie McCall’s spirit will die, too.”
“It
could all end so sad then.”
“Yes,
Angel Girl, it could,” Tess said, as she listened to the lonely sound of the
woman’s sobs as they echoed off the high ceilings. “It could all end very sad.”
John
Gage paid little attention to the massive amount of news coverage given to the
fall of Saigon. He’d left Los Angeles
right after a gathering at the DeSoto home for Jennifer’s sixth birthday on
April 29th. He headed for the mountains
to hike and camp on his day off. Well,
to hike, camp, and push aside memories as he’d been doing for so many years
now. His wife Kim, and fourteen-month-old
daughter Jessie, had been murdered on April 28th, of 1967. Johnny had come to Los Angeles in January of
‘68 for a fresh start. No one here was
aware of the heartache he’d left behind in Montana. Not even Roy. Johnny had
no intention of that changing. Eight
years had now passed since Kim and Jessie’s deaths. Eight years in which Johnny had built a new life for himself
while trying to forget the past.
Johnny
would be the first to admit he never gave much thought to the war. Yes, he had
opinions like everyone else in the country seemed to, but mostly he’d kept them
to himself. He didn’t understand why
the leaders within the United States government never seemed to give the war
their best efforts. There was no doubt
that U.S. technology could have blown Vietnam right off the map if need
be. Why the politicians had let this
war go on for so long was beyond Johnny’s comprehension. Yet if he’d been called to serve he would
have. He’d been released from draft
status for Vietnam twice. The first
time was back in the summer of 1966.
He’d been exempt because he was an only son and an employee on his
father’s ranch. The agriculture
industry provided a great value to the United States during times of war. It
wasn’t unusual for young farmers or ranchers not to be called into the service
of their country, especially if there were no other male siblings in the family
to stay behind and work. The second
time Johnny had been passed over, the fall of 1970, was because he was a Los
Angeles County fireman, and therefore considered ‘necessary personnel’
stateside. Or at least that’s the way
the draft board worded it on his deferment.
Johnny knew Roy had served a year in ‘Nam back in ‘65, but they rarely
discussed it. The only thing Roy had
told Johnny was that he was one of the lucky ones. Johnny took that to mean Roy saw little action, which would make
sense since Roy wasn’t part of an infantry unit, but rather worked on a base as
both a mechanic and radio operator.
It
had been a week since the fall of Saigon, and the guys at the station were
still talking about it. Roy had been
the only one amongst them to serve in Vietnam.
Hank Stanley had been drafted several years before the build up of
military personnel in Vietnam and remained stateside throughout his two years
in the service. Mike Stoker had joined
the Navy right out of high school, and while he was aboard a ship that brought
supplies to other ships off the coast of Vietnam, he was never involved in any
fighting, nor had he ever stepped foot on Vietnamese soil.
Chet
and Marco had fallen into the same category as Johnny. Their employment with the fire department
had provided them deferments.
Nonetheless, it was a hot topic with everyone right now. Or at least with everyone other than
Johnny. Because of his deceased wife
and child he sometimes felt old beyond his years. Not that he ever showed those feelings. He’d become so good at hiding them even Johnny himself had a hard
time digging deep enough to find them.
That wasn’t to say Johnny didn’t understand the significance of the war
the United States had just lost, it was just that it didn’t directly touch his
life. If any of his friends back in
Montana, friends he hadn’t spoken to in seven years, had served in the war, or
even died over there, Johnny was unaware of it. And none of Johnny’s friends here in Los Angeles had seen battle
over there, so it wasn’t a subject the paramedic had reason to bring up.
“So,
Gage, what do you think?”
Johnny
continued washing the lunch dishes, totally unaware of the question he’d just
been asked.
“Hey,
Gage? You deaf or something?”
Johnny
turned around when a balled up napkin bounced off his skull.
“Chet,
knock it off.”
“I
asked you a question.”
“What
question?”
“What
do you think?”
“Think
about what?”
Chet
rolled his eyes at his co-workers. Everyone
but Roy was still seated at the table.
The senior paramedic was drying dishes for his partner and returning
them to their proper cabinets.
“About
‘Nam. The end of the war. The fall of Saigon. The whole nine yards.”
“I
don’t think anything about it.”
“You’re
kidding me, right?”
“No. I’m not kidding you.”
“You
mean to tell me John Gage doesn’t have an opinion he’d like to share on this
topic?”
Johnny
shrugged as he turned back to his soapy dish water. “No, Chet, I don’t have an opinion.”
“Oh,
come on, Gage. I’m not buying
that. Everyone has an opinion on
Vietnam.”
“All
right,” Johnny said as he drained the water from the sink. “If only to get you to shut up I’ll give you
my opinion. There was no reason we
couldn’t have won the war. I mean,
we’re the wealthiest nation in the world fighting a country barely larger than
the state of Rhode Island and yet we lose.
What sense does that make? Over
fifty thousand men and women lost their lives over there and for what? Nothing.
Absolutely nothing. What a total
waste.”
No
one disagreed with Johnny on that point.
The paramedic shook his head with both sorrow and disgust as he wiped
his wet hands on a dishtowel, then returned the towel to the rack.
“Most
of those kids who died weren’t over twenty years old. Twenty years old. When
you’re that age you think you’ve already lived a long life and are wise beyond
your years. But you haven’t. And it’s young. It’s just so damn young to have everything taken from you.”
The
men watched as Johnny walked out the back door. As soon as Roy heard the basketball start to bounce against the
parking lot’s pavement he knew Chet had struck a nerve with Johnny. Chet knew it, too.
“What?” The Irishman asked of the four pair of eyes
staring at him. “What did I say?”
Funny
thing was, no one could answer Chet this time, or blame him for any
wrongdoing. If what he had said upset
Johnny it was far beyond the ability of any man present to figure out why.
Hank
Stanley did what any good leader does at this point. He clapped his hands together as he stood to head to his office.
“Okay,
guys, enough on this subject for today.
It will be wise for all of us to remember this will be a sensitive topic
for many people we encounter in the weeks and months ahead. Let’s just drop it around the station for
the time being.”
After
Hank’s office door closed Chet turned to Roy.
“But
what did I say to get Johnny so narked off?”
“I
don’t think he’s narked off, Chet. Just
upset. With Johnny’s there’s a big
difference.”
“All
right. So what did I say to get him
upset?”
Roy
shrugged. “I honestly don’t know.”
“He
doesn’t have a brother who’s served over there, does he?” Chet asked, fearing
that maybe Johnny had lost someone he loved to the war.
“Not
that I’m aware of. But to tell you the
truth I don’t know much about his family.”
“You
don’t even know if Gage has a brother or not?”
“Nope.”
“You’re
shittin’ me.”
“No,
I’m not. I know his mother died a few months
before he moved out here in January of ‘68.
I know his father is still living, and every so often he speaks of his
paternal grandfather. But other than
that Johnny doesn’t mention his past.”
“Weird.”
“What’s
so weird about it?” Mike asked.
“Mike,
come on. Roy and Johnny are best
friends. They’ve been partners for over
three years now. Don’t you think it’s
odd that Roy doesn’t know more about Johnny’s home life in Montana than what
he’s just told us? I mean geez, Gage
yaks on at the mouth about everything else.
A guy would think Roy would even know the name of Johnny’s kindergarten
teacher.”
“Mrs.
Long Feather.”
“Huh?”
“The
name of Johnny’s kindergarten teacher,” Roy said. “Mrs. Long Feather. He went to grade school on an Indian
Reservation.”
“So
you know the name of Gage’s kindergarten teacher, but you don’t know if he has
a brother. See what I’m saying
here? Weird. Just plain weird.”
“Chet,
some things are private,” Marco pointed out.
“Even for someone as outgoing as Johnny. All of us have parts of our lives we’d rather not reveal, or that
are too painful to talk about.”
“No
way. I tell you guys everything.”
Roy
just shook his head at the Irishman while Marco and Mike exchanged
longsuffering smiles.
Chet’s
voice dropped, and his eyes darted around the room as though he was expecting a
figure of authority to walk in at any moment.
“You
don’t suppose Johnny’s running from the law, do you?”
“Chet,
come on,” Marco scoffed. “You’re being
ridiculous now.”
“No,
I’m not. Give it some thought here,
guys. What kind of Indian name is John
Roderick Gage anyway? Maybe that’s the
name Johnny took after he--”
“After
he what?” Roy asked. He was trying not to show it, but he was
getting a little miffed at Chet.
“I
don’t know. After he did something that
caused him to change his name and leave Montana.”
Roy
leaned back against the counter with his arms folded across his chest. He tried
to keep the glare he was shooting Chet to minimum intensity.
“Chet,
if only to shut you up I’ll tell you what I know about Johnny. Number one; the United States Government
forced Indians to take English names when they put them on reservations. This extends to the names they give their
children. Or at least the legal
names. Number two; he spent part of his
growing up years on a reservation, and part of them on a ranch his parents bought
when he was a kid. He came to LA to
work as a fireman because there weren’t many job opportunities for a ‘half
breed,’ as Johnny put it, in the small town of White Rock, Montana. End of story.”
“And
does he ever go back?”
“To
Montana?”
“Yeah.”
“I
don’t know. Not that he mentions.”
“And
no one from his family ever visits him here.
So see, something’s up.”
“How
did we get to this from Vietnam?” Roy asked.
“I’m
just curious, that’s all.”
“Well,
keep in mind curiosity killed the cat.”
“But--”
“Let
it go, Chet,” Roy advised. “Look, you
guys know my dad died when I was thirteen, right?”
“Yeah.”
“But
it’s not something I talk about much, is it?”
“No.”
“And
you never bug me about that fact, Chet, so extend that same respect to
Johnny. I don’t know why our
discussion about ‘Nam upset him and I don’t care. If he wants to tell me he will. If he doesn’t, then so be it.”
“But
I don’t think it was the discussion about ‘Nam that set him off in the first
place,” Chet said. “I think it was
something else. Only I can’t figure
out--”
Roy
grabbed a dishtowel and stuffed it in Chet’s mouth as he passed by.
“Chet,
for once and for all, shut up.”
To
the sound of Mike and Marco’s laughter Roy headed for the locker room. He had a
book in his duffel bag he wouldn’t mind reading if the afternoon stayed
quiet. Before he got that far the
klaxons went off and the squad was called into service. As Roy slipped behind the wheel a slightly
winded Johnny jumped in the passenger side.
Roy took the sheet of paper Cap handed him and passed it to his
partner. Johnny checked the map book
and navigated as Roy drove. Right
before they got to the school where a child had fallen from the monkey bars,
Roy looked at his partner.
“Do
you have a brother?”
Considering
the two men hadn’t even been carrying on a conversation the question caught
Johnny off guard.
“What?”
Roy
felt his face turning red. He had just
stooped to Chet’s level, something he could have never imagined himself doing.
“Never
mind.”
“No.
What’d you ask me?”
“It’s
not important.”
“I
didn’t hear you. Ask me again.”
Roy
gave an internal sigh, hoping he wouldn’t regret this question given Johnny’s
earlier unexplained upset. “I asked
if you have a brother.”
“No. Why?”
“Neither
do I,” Roy replied for lack of knowing what else to say.
Well,
Chet, that disproves your theory that Johnny has a brother who served in ‘Nam.
Johnny
shot his partner a look that said he was certain Roy had lost his mind.
“I
know you don’t. So what’s going
on? Are you thinking of adopting one?”
“No,”
Roy laughed, before growing serious. “I
guess you’re the closest I come to having a brother. I mean, I think of you like a brother, you know?”
Johnny
made a dramatic showing of smashing his body against the passenger side door as
though he suddenly found it necessary to get as far away from Roy as
possible. He cocked an eyebrow at his
partner.
“Are
you feeling all right?”
“I’m
fine. Why?”
“You
just don’t normally go around saying stuff like that. Don’t tell me Joanne has made you join one of those groups where
you get in touch with your feelings and junk like that.”
“No,
nothing like that.”
“Then
why the sudden sentiment?”
Damn
you, Chet.
“Just forget I said anything.”
“But--”
“Forget
it, Johnny.”
“All
right.”
Nothing
more was said until the men pulled into the school yard. As they were opening compartment doors to
get their equipment Johnny tossed his partner a teasing grin.
“Hey,
Roy?”
“Yeah?”
“If
I was gonna adopt me a blue eyed, blond headed brother, you’d be the paleface
I’d choose.”
“Very
funny.”
And
with that the two men jogged to the fallen child with the broken arm, their
conversation forgotten for the moment.
With
each year that passed since Kim and Jessie’s murders, the internal mourning
period Johnny went through at the end of every April seemed to lessen in
length. That used to upset the paramedic,
but over time he’d come to realize that was normal. Normal, and overall a lot easier on his emotional health. He knew that didn’t mean he’d ever forget
his wife and little girl, or ever stop loving them, but it simply meant he was
still amongst the living and had to carry on.
By the time mid-May arrived Johnny was
once again his old self. The same could
not be said for Dixie McCall.
The
urge to cry whenever she was alone had not left the nurse. And alone was how Dixie spent most of her
time when she wasn’t on duty at Rampart.
Unbeknownst to Dixie’s friends and colleagues, she was rarely leaving
her house these days other than when forced to make the trip to work, or go to
the grocery store. She was tossing out
excuses left and right each time an invitation was issued for dinner, or a
movie, or a Sunday afternoon of tennis with a trio of her female
co-workers. She no longer rode her bike
around her quiet neighborhood on a daily basis, and she’d lost interest in the
Candy Striper program at the hospital that she’d so faithfully been the head of
for years now. She’d taken the program
beyond what it had been; a volunteer position for teenagers who delivered
gifts, flowers, and newspapers to patients, or who played with the children on
the Pediatrics Ward, to instead introduce these young people to the world of
nursing in a way that turned many of them on to the idea of making the
profession their life long careers.
Dixie had always been so proud of that, and had always enjoyed working
with the teens, but lately she’d given more and more of those responsibilities
to another ER nurse.
Like
many people who are overwhelmed by depression, Dixie recognized the symptoms
but didn’t completely understand the cause.
When she gave it any thought at all she supposed there were a lot of
reasons why she didn’t want to get up and face each day. Certainly the end of the Vietnam War was at
least a part of it. The men and women
who served over there were arriving home, but to what? Not a nation that was honoring them, that’s
for certain. Not anymore than it had
honored her and the other veterans of Korea; and by what Dixie was seeing on
the news, even less.
This
country loves a winner, but heaven forbid you should end up fighting on the
losing side.
Dixie
sighed as she slipped into her seat at the nurse’s station. She’d been staring at next week’s schedule
all day now, and hadn’t gotten any farther on it than Sunday. Each time she found a moment to study it she
was called away. Though not called away
for a patient in crisis, but rather called away because a treatment room wasn’t
set up the way Doctor Brackett liked it.
Or because her newest nurse, a young lady fresh from college and barely
twenty-one years old, was in the bathroom crying because Doctor Morton spoke
sharply to her. Or because someone lost
the lab tests Doctor Early had ordered.
Or because an orderly hadn’t cleaned up the vomit in Treatment Room Five.
Or because a waiting family member kept interrupting her to check on a patient. Dixie stared at the black squares on the
paper in front of her.
I’m making the highest income now than I have ever earned in my life, yet every day I dislike my job more and more. I feel like an adult baby-sitter. If I’m not tending to Kel and his quirks about the set up of a treatment room, then I’ve got someone crying on my shoulder - literally - because Mike Morton brought his ill temper to work. And if it’s not that, then someone is complaining about having to wait to see a doctor, or I’m washing dirty coffee cups left behind by all the paramedics who breeze in and out of this place on a daily basis as though it’s Dixie’s Diner. I don’t know when I got so out of touch with hands-on-nursing. Trauma care is what I do best, but it’s what I’ve gotten to do the least of these last few years. <