by Jamie Davis
“Okay,” Brynne said. “We’re going to give you a little more fluid and then we’ll get you up and move you to the ambulance.”
Jaina turned her head and looked at the bag of fluid Dean was holding, now only half full. A look of concentration crossed her face, and Dean was astounded as the saline fluid in the clear plastic bag began to disappear quickly. “Ahhhh,” the Naiad gasped as she closed her eyes, a smile on her face. “That feels good.” She said, smacking her lips. “Though it’s a bit salty for my taste.”
The bag hung empty in Dean’s hand, completely dry. He looked at Jaina and Brynne. “Would you like some more?” he asked as he smiled at her.
“I’ve got a few bottles of water in the ambulance,” Brynne said. “Why don’t you let us take you back there and we’ll try and get you back to normal, or at least as close as we can until your pond is filled up again.”
“That sounds good,” the Naiad said trying to sit up. “Whoa, I’m still a bit dizzy.” She laid back down again.
“You need to take it easy and let us do the work,” Brynne said. Dean turned and put the empty IV bag on top of the med bag then got up to help Brynne unload the rest of the gear from the stretcher. They put it down to its lowest position and rolled it up next to the patient on the ground.
“Dean and I are going to help you sit up and then move to the stretcher, Jaina,” Brynne said. “Do you think you can help us out with that?”
“I think so,” Jaina responded.
“Okay,” Brynne said nodding to Dean as she put her hand under Jaina’s shoulder and helped prop her up to a seated position. Then the two paramedics each took a side and, lifting under the patient’s arms, lifted her up to sit on the side of the stretcher. Dean put the head of the stretcher up to a semi-reclining position and helped her lay back as Brynne lifted her feet up. They put the seat belts on her to secure Jaina on the stretcher. Dean carefully put the heart monitor on the stretcher and secured it next to her legs. He then asked the foreman Jim and the Gradall operator, who were still hanging around, to help carry the bags for them while they wheeled the stretcher back towards the ambulance.
When they got to the ambulance and loaded Jaina into the back, Brynne took the remaining bags from the workers and thanked them for their help. She packed them away and then climbed in the back with Dean and the patient.
Dean was handing Jaina a water bottle as Brynne stepped up into the back of the unit via the side door.
“How do you feel?” Brynne asked, sitting down in the chair by the head of the stretcher.
“Better, thanks,” Jaina replied. She held her hand up to her forehead. “I think they caught me by surprise. By the time I realized what they were doing, they had drained too much water from the pond for me to make up the difference. I had no time to tear myself away from the connection to the water.” She opened up the plastic water bottle and downed the contents in one go. She put the bottle down next to her and held her hand out for more. Brynne handed her another bottle that quickly went the way of the first one.
Brynne glanced at the screen of the heart monitor. Jaina’s vitals were looking better now that she’d gotten some fluid on board. “I’m glad we were able to help,” she said. “Can we take you to the hospital to get checked out and make sure your labs are good?”
“No,” Jaina replied. “I’m good now that I’m awake and able to take care of myself. I’ll be fine.” She handed the empty bottle back to Dean. Her touch lingered on his arm while he took it from her. “I would like a few more bottles for the road, though.”
“No problem,” Dean said, reaching into the cabinet at the foot of the stretcher for two more water bottles. “Is two enough?”
“Yes, thank you,” Jaina replied taking the bottles.
“I just need you to sign this transport refusal and you’re all set to go,” Brynne said, holding up the iPad for Jaina to sign. The woman scrawled a signature on the line with her finger. Brynne handed her a paper with some printed and handwritten information on it. “This is a sheet with some basic instructions for you and advising you that you have the right to call us back if you need us, even if it’s just after we’ve left.” She caught the woman’s eye. “I’m serious, Jaina. If you feel worse, call 911, and we’ll come back and check you out. We can give you more water or even take you to the hospital if needed.”
“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind,” Jaina said. “But I am feeling better now. I’ll be okay.”
Dean helped her unbuckle the stretcher’s seat belts and then opened the back doors, climbing out and turning to offer a hand to the Naiad. Jaina jumped down nimbly from the back step. She didn’t look shaky at all anymore. She thanked the paramedics and walked around the back of the ambulance towards the pond. Dean turned to say something about being careful but the woman was nowhere to be seen. He spun around and then looked up at Brynne, who gave a little chuckle.
“Fairies who don’t want to be seen, can’t be seen, Dean,” she said. “It goes with the whole supernatural thing. It’s one reason I suspected who she must be when the construction foreman said that it was like she just appeared. When she suddenly went unconscious from the severe dehydration she lost control of her magic or mojo or whatever you want to call it, and ‘Poof’ there she was.”
“I think I’m gonna take a little while before I get used to all this Unusuals have magic and stuff thing,” Dean said shaking his head. “She was cute though.”
“I figured you’d noticed,” Brynne said. “Just don’t get in the habit of dating former patients or Unusuals in general. It leads to complications most of the time.”
“Really, Brynne?” Dean asked. “You’re telling me not to date Unusuals?” He stopped himself even as he thought that he was not the one wearing a turtleneck on a warm day. She was clearly covering up the hickey or whatever else she didn't want people to see on her neck. He didn’t dare say that out loud, though. It was none of his business.
“I’m not having this conversation with you, Dean,” she snapped. “Just take my word for it. It’s not for the faint of heart. Leave it at that.” She turned and left him standing there as she stepped down from the back of the unit and headed back toward the driver’s seat. “Put fresh sheets on the stretcher while I get on the radio and put us back in service. You never know when we’ll get another call.”
Dean stood there for a moment, watching her walk away, kicking himself for stepping over a line. Her private life was just that, private. It was hard, though, for EMS partners to avoid learning a little too much about each other. Dean had seen his share of rocky relationships without one of the significant others being a probable vampire. Still, she was the boss and certainly knew a lot more about this than he did. Maybe she knew something he didn’t. He climbed into the back of the unit and remade the stretcher for the next call. He heard her on the radio in the front seat, calling dispatch. Hopefully, she’d forget he ever said anything about it. He didn’t want to get on her bad side.
They headed back to the station on the other side of town in silence. When they arrived, they cleaned out the mud and dirt that had been tracked into the back of the ambulance, all without saying a word. Dean went in and started on the report while Brynne sat down in one of the recliners and looked at something on her phone.
By lunchtime the tense silence was driving Dean nuts. He finally spoke from where he was sitting by the computer checking his email. “Brynne,” he said, turning to look at her where she sat in the recliner. “I apologize. If I stepped over a line, I didn’t mean to. I had no intention of hurting your feelings or making things awkward between us.”
She put her phone down in her lap and looked up at him. “I shouldn’t have delved into the subject of dating Unusuals myself if I didn’t want to have that conversation with you, Dean,” Brynne said. “Just trust me. It can get pretty complicated. Just be careful.”
“You, too, Boss,” Dean responded. “I’m sure you know what you're doing and all but I remember some things from
a class I had once on relationship violence and …”
“It’s not like that at all,” she interrupted. “Look, I don’t want to talk about this with you or anyone else. Everything is fine, okay?”
She got up and plugged her phone into the USB charger on the wall by the desk. “Look, apology accepted,” she said, “and thank you for your concern, but there’s nothing to be concerned about. Deal?”
“Deal,” Dean said.
“It’s time for lunch. Any thoughts?” Brynne asked.
“I don’t know,” Dean said. “What are you up for?”
“Lets hit that salad place out on Rt. 40. You can get a sandwich there if you don’t want a salad.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Dean said, wondering if this was the end of the discussion.
———
As was usually the case in the EMS world, you order lunch and the next call comes in. The two paid for their meals, grabbed the bag of food from the counter, and headed out to their ambulance. Dean put the bags behind the seat as he climbed into the passenger side. The call was for a choking subject and it wasn’t far away. Brynne hit the lights and Dean turned on the siren as his partner drove the unit out of the strip mall and back out onto Route 40. Turning right, they headed down two lights and turned left onto a winding road on the outskirts of the city. It lead to a lane with a group of ramshackle mobile homes in various states of disrepair.
“I’ll take the lead on this one, Dean,” Brynne said. “Just watch and keep your eyes open.” She pulled up next to a trailer. “Bring in the portable suction and the oxygen/airway bag. Watch your step coming into the trailer. Most of them are falling apart and there are probably holes in the floors.”
She jumped out and started up the steps toward the rusted screen door. Dean got out and retrieved the suction and oxygen bags. Brynne had already gone inside. As he stepped up on the makeshift cinder block steps, he slipped the straps of the oxygen bag over his right shoulder. He cradled the portable suction in the crook of his right arm as he reached for the screen door.
He entered a dark room with a musty, moldy odor just in time to see his partner standing behind what looked like a dead guy, administering the Heimlich maneuver. The guy’s eyes were sunken in, and his skin was mottled and blue in tone. She pulled back sharply once, then a second, third and then a fourth time.With a gasp, something flew out of the guy’s mouth and struck him in the chest followed by something else. Dean stepped back with a disgusted groan as he brushed at his chest with his free hand. He reached into his pocket, fumbling to put on some gloves as Brynne released the man’s midsection from her embrace and stepped from behind him.
“Is that better?” she asked. The man groaned at her but nodded. Then he looked confused, stuck two fingers in his mouth fishing around as if looking for something then started scanning the floor at Dean’s feet. Dean looked down and there, on the floor next to his left foot was what looked like a tongue and a lump of chewed food.
“It that his tongue?” Dean asked. “What the …?”
“Oh, good,” Brynne said as she walked over. “Freddy’s always losing that.” She bent over and picked up the detached muscle with her gloved hand. “Do you want me to wash it off first?”
Freddy held out his hand with a shake of his head. Dean noticed that there were two fingers missing from his right hand. He took the proffered tongue, blew it off and then unceremoniously shoved the whole thing back into his mouth. He poked around with the forefingers of both hands for a bit, obviously trying to position it. When he pulled them away, he offered a gap-toothed grin to Dean and croaked, “That is better. Thank you, Brynne.”
“What happened Freddy?” Brynne asked. “I thought you said you weren't going to let that happen again?”
“I tried to be careful but I just wanted to have a brownie.” It was hard for Dean to make out the words that came out of the guy’s mouth. It was a wonder that he could talk at all considering he had a loose tongue, oh, and was clearly dead.
“You know you shouldn’t eat anything.” Brynne admonished. “You’re dead so you can’t digest it anyway.”
“But,” the dead man’s voice groaned. “I can still sort of taste things. I used to be so good at cooking and tasting things. I miss that, Brynne. I really do.” She nodded in sympathy as he continued. “I decided that I could make a small batch of brownies and try just one.” He turned and ambled into the kitchen at one end of the trailer home, stepping around a foot-wide hole in the floor. Dean and Brynne followed. Once there they looked around at what had to be the filthiest kitchen Dean had ever seen. There were pans and pots everywhere with rotted bits of food in them. The sink was piled high with dirty plates and more pots and pans. Flies buzzed around the rotten food and the trailer’s occupant.
Freddy picked up one square baking pan with what looked like fresh brownies in it. One corner piece had been removed. “See,” he said. “I just had one.”
“Freddy,” Brynne said putting her hand gently on the guy’s shoulder. “I know you used to be a pretty good chef, but you’re dead now. You can’t do all the things you used to do no matter how much you want to. I’m not always going to be this close to come bail you out.”
“I know. I’ll try,” Freddie said with a sigh. “I just wish I had more opportunities to cook again.”
“We’ve all told you that you’re welcome to come by the station any time and cook a meal for us,” Brynne offered.
Dean turned to look at her and stared at his partner, dumbstruck.
“What?” she asked, looking back at him. “Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it, Dean. Freddy here was once one of the best chefs in the country. Why, if he were still alive and cooking today, he’d have a cooking show on the Food Channel for sure.”
“Really?” Freddy asked. “You think so?
“Absolutely!” Brynne answered. “Why don’t you plan to come over tomorrow evening in time for shift change. We are still on days and I know that Brook and Tammy, who are both coming on tomorrow night, would love a home cooked meal after they missed the last feast you cooked for us.”
“I would love to.” Freddy choked out. “Thank you. I’ll stop by tonight after dark and leave a shopping list for you. Just a list of some of the things to pick up. I’m going to make something special for you, Brynne. It’s going to knock your socks off!”
“I can’t wait,” Brynne said. “In the meantime, no more brownies! Okay?”
“Okay,” he answered, walking them to the door. “Thank you again. Both of you.”
The paramedics stepped carefully down the rickety, cinderblock steps and headed back to the ambulance. Brynne walked around to the driver’s side while Dean went over to the side compartments to replace the oxygen bag and portable suction. He turned and climbed into the passenger seat. They were just about to pull away when the screen door slammed open and Freddy shuffled out holding up a zipper baggie of brownies as he came up to the passenger side of the ambulance. Dean put down the window.
“I thought you’d appreciate these since I can’t.” Freddie croaked, handing the baggie through the window to Dean. “Thank you for coming and helping me out again. I’ll see you both tomorrow night.” He stepped back and let the ambulance pull away, waving goodbye.
Dean leaned out the window. “Thank you,” he called, then sat back, closing the window again. He was just about to shove one of the brownies into his mouth when Brynne reached over and batted it out of his hand.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked. “Are you crazy? Don’t eat that!”
“But the way you were talking back there ….” he said, suddenly confused. “All that ‘you are a great chef, Freddy’ and ‘can not wait to have you cook us dinner, Freddy.’ I assumed they must be pretty good.”
“Did you see that kitchen?” She asked. “He always offers us snacks when we come help him out. That doesn’t mean it’s a good idea to eat them.” She shook her head. “You’re a pretty good medic for the most part, D
ean, but I keep forgetting that you’re still a newbie at this. It is one thing to have Freddy come over and cook for us in our kitchen with some supervision to make sure he doesn’t lose something into the sauce. It is quite something else to have something a zombie made in that disgusting excuse for a kitchen.” She glanced over at him. “I thought you would have had more sense than that.”
Dean grinned. “I guess it was pretty stupid. But in my defense, you had me completely flipped out and turned around when you offered to have him come cook for us.”
“Oh, you just wait and see, newbie,” Brynne said. “You just wait and see. He’s going to come and cook the kind of meal that a guy on a paramedic’s salary can rarely afford. The last time he came over and cooked he made us fresh tortellini with a homemade marinara sauce that I still have dreams about.”
“What happened to him anyway?” Dean asked. “I assume he’s a zombie or undead.”
“Zombie’s right,” Brynne answered. “It’s a sad story. He was dating a girl who was dabbling in some dark magic when he decided to cheat on her. She created a zombie potion of some sort and then tricked him into drinking it. Then she shot him five times in the chest after informing him that he would come back as a member of the undead. She ended up going to prison for the rest of her life and he ended up in that trailer for the rest of his unlife.”
“But it looks like he’s slowly disintegrating,” Dean said.
“Yes, that’s true, unfortunately,” Brynne said. “He’ll slowly rot away and eventually die, or whatever it is that zombies do since he’s already dead. Our job is to help occasionally reattach things to him that fall off and keep him from ending his existence early by choking on the food he can no longer eat.” She pulled up next to a dumpster in the industrial park next to their building. “Toss that baggie in there and then we’ll park and go inside to finish our lunch.”
Dean tossed the baggie of brownies into the open dumpster. He again got the impression he was never going to figure out all the nuances of this job or get used to the surprises it held in store. Maybe he hoped it never did.
