Buzz’s voice came through the open window. “Did you see that oil truck pull out in front of me?”
“It’s parked, you jerk!” Dano yelled, disgusted.
“Oh,” Buzz mumbled.
I had to smile to myself, knowing we were all right. Dano was already outside looking at the front of the ambulance to assess the damage, so I joined him. I gave him a weak smile, hoping that would help, yet not knowing how the heck it would.
“Just a minor scratch. Get in,” Dano muttered.
We looked around.
No Buzz Lightyear.
“Where the f-?”
I pointed at the house we’d stopped in front of. Through a curtainless window we could see three disreputable-looking guys-and sparkling, wrinkle-free Buzz Lightyear-in what was obviously the “house of crack.”
“Oh, Jesus,” Dano muttered, “they’ll surely kill him once he opens his mouth.” He headed toward the house. “Stay in the back,” he ordered, and I sure didn’t want to get on his bad side right now, so I stayed put.
Soon Buzz, looking very sheepish, came out with Dano right behind, looking as if he wanted to smack Buzz in the back of the head like a father would an unruly son.
Once they were inside the ambulance Dano said, “Why the hell did you go into a crack house?”
“To use the phone.” Buzz sounded as if what he’d just said made perfect sense.
Dano shook his head and decided finally to let it go. “We have a radio in here,” was all he said.
Buzz hesitated.
“What!” Dano said. “Get going! Drive!”
“I can’t just pull out. I need to back up.”
“Then back the hell up,” Dano said.
“The rule is that you-the passenger-are supposed to get out and guide me.”
Oh, boy. I had to give Buzz credit for having the guts to stand up to ER Dano, who wasn’t in a very good mood. Buzz was correct. The other person was supposed to get out to guide the driver.
But Dano turned to him and in a very threatening voice said, “Back this f’n thing up and let’s get back so we can go home today. That’s what you have side-view mirrors for. You need to learn if you’re gonna continue in this job.”
Buzz put the ambulance in reverse.
I looked out the back window to see if I could help. Nothing. Coast clear. Thank the good Lord.
Smash!
There was a moment of silence from the cab of the ambulance. I stood to look out the window, flabbergasted that Buzz had managed to find a cement bollard-like the ones used to tie horses up to in the olden days-and that it was now melded with the back of the ambulance. It had been much lower than my sight line-and obviously Buzz’s too.
I couldn’t even imagine what would happen next.
Once the wrecker got the ambulance free and we were picked up by Ambulance #277, we headed back to TLC. I sat in the lounge waiting for Dano-having second thoughts about it. Maybe I should get the hell out of there before he came out, since I was sure he wasn’t going to be his jolly self.
“Don’t even get close to me,” I heard Dano say.
But-and it didn’t surprise me-I heard Buzz respond, “You didn’t have to do that for me. I’m touched.”
Yikes!
I hurried out into the hallway before Dano really “touched” Buzz.
Dano looked at me. “I’ll call you.” And then he was out the door.
I looked at Buzz. He never took his eyes off Dano’s retreating back. He said, “He covered for me. He said it was his fault, so I wouldn’t get in trouble.” Buzz turned to me. “I’ve had a few close calls before.”
I wanted to say, “Gee, what a surprise,” but knew better. Besides, the kid needed to vent.
“So what happens to him?” I asked.
“He’s so senior around here, they only gave him a day off…without pay.”
Oh…my…God.
Twenty-Five
Buzz was so upset that he couldn’t drive home. Dano had peeled out of the parking lot at high speed and neither Jagger nor Lilla were in sight, so I volunteered to give Buzz a lift. The poor guy needed a friend, and I was like a flame to a moth for poor souls. My darn nurturing nurse’s nature kicked in, and I found myself sitting in the driveway of an adorable little yellow Victorian house with white trim.
“You wanna come in?” Buzz asked.
I did, but only out of curiosity-like a rubbernecker. What kind of house would Buzz Lightyear live in? Thinking it rude though, I said, “No, hon. I’m tired. Better get home.”
Buzz turned to me. I’d seen that look before in the eyes of my nephews when I’d disappointed them-mostly by buying the wrong toys as Christmas presents. Hey, I was childless!
Before I knew it, I was standing in the foyer of the house from Leave It to Beaver, only much smaller and in color-a bit brighter but nonetheless odd and bordering on retro.
Buzz offered me a glass of iced tea, which I politely accepted. He brought me a pink glass, and the iced tea looked pink too. I only hoped Red #40 food dye didn’t cause me to become hyper.
“Here you go,” Buzz said.
“Thanks. I really can’t stay long.”
I wondered if I could drink with my mouth agape. Looking around this place caused just that.
Then a woman came in the back door. “Hello, my honey!” she called in a bright voice.
“Hi, Mommy. I’m home with a friend.”
If I’d been in mid-swallow, I’d have spewed tea out on the braided rug beneath my feet. A friend! Mommy! “Hey, don’t want to make Lilla jealous,” I teased.
Buzz looked rather serious. “She is a friend too.”
Whoa, boy. Must have been trouble in Eden. I smiled and followed him into the kitchen. Now, I really wasn’t one to judge, since Stella Sokol’s kitchen was a retro throwback, but this place, all done in pink, and I mean all done in pink, was circa 1960. And all the pink was plastic. The blender. The phone and its cord, and the toaster. Pink. Pink. Pink.
I vowed I would never wear pink or take Pepto-Bismol again.
“Did you show your friend your room?” Buzz’s mother asked.
What? Actually, she hadn’t said it in any sexual way. Nope. It was more like we’d come home for recess and my buddy Buzz would show me his prize trophies.
Well, I wasn’t far off, I thought, when Buzz led me to his room.
It was small, with a single bed with a brown plaid bedspread, but what struck me most were the walls. They were covered in posters of ambulances. On one bookshelf was a stack of EMT magazines-well read I might add-and there were little ambulances on all the other shelves.
I looked at the window and noticed the tiny red crosses on the curtains.
“What do you think, Miss Pauline?”
“Wow,” was all I could manage, and then quickly came to my senses and looked at my watch. “Oh, geez. I have to run. This place is great! You’re great!”
Before he could say a word, I was out of there, and I think I forgot to say goodbye to his mom, and I still had the glass of tea in my hand.
I spent the evening with Goldie and Miles, who kept insisting that I’d made up all the stories of the day. I told them that I really wanted Buzz to succeed as an EMT but had my doubts, and that my imagination wasn’t so good that I could make all that up.
Buzz was a veritable magnet for accidents, as ER Dano was a magnet for whacko patients, we’d all concluded. Then again, only Dano could handle some of them.
After much consideration, I decided not to call Dano, but to give him his space. He didn’t phone me either, so I went to sleep with a rather empty feeling inside; but when I woke and dressed for a new day, I decided Dano could probably use the rest anyway, and I’m sure a day without pay wouldn’t affect him as it would have affected Buzz, who would have lost his job.