"Only In The Movies"

Chapter Four

The two rescuers reached the bottom of the hidden staircase.

Chet shone the powerful beam of his flashlight over the motionless figure of an elderly gentleman, lying face down on the floor.

Roy set his equipment down and felt for a pulse.

"Is he…dead?" Kelly nervously inquired.

DeSoto completed his initial examination. "No," he opened their base kit, picked up the phone and inserted the call stick. "At least, not yet."

Back up in the mansion's second-floor library…

Mike Stoker used the hydraulic pressure of the Ajax tool to pry the bookcase away from the wall, and created an opening wide enough to slip through.

The Captain snatched one of the extra flashlights up from the desk and flicked it on. "Make this opening a little wider, and then bring down the backboard and the Stokes," he requested, prior to ducking under the Ajax and disappearing into the secret passageway.

"How is he?" Stanley asked, when he reached the bottom step.

"Not too good, Cap," DeSoto solemnly announced. "We got to him just in time."

Hank left the staircase and stepped off across the 'secret' room. "There's gotta be another way outta here," he determined and allowed the beam of his light to illuminate their 'secret' surroundings—floor to ceiling. He stared down at a narrow strip of light, directly below a hinged section of one of the walls and gave a shove.

The wall section swung away from him and opened up into—the old mansion's entrance hall.

The Captain poked his head out into the entryway, to see what was on the other side of the hall wall.

A full-length mirror appeared.

"Well, what d'yah know!" the Captain softly exclaimed and turned his helmeted head back toward the hallway.

Two, very pale looking, ambulance attendants were staring back at him—wide-eyed and open-mouthed.

"You just about scared us half to death!" one of them emphatically stated.

"Sorry 'bout that," Stanley insincerely replied and stepped out of the hidden room, to hold the mirror open for them. "In here with the stretcher."

Stoker and Lopez came down the hidden staircase, carrying the Stokes. Their jaws also went slack, when they spotted the two ambulance guys—guiding their stretcher over to the patient.

"How did you two get in here?" Marco wondered.

"Easy," one of them smartly replied. "We just walked right through the wall!"

"Cute trick!" Mike told him.

"Actually," the other attendant piped up, "there's no 'trick' to it. It's all done with mirrors."

The Captain pursed his lips and crossed back over to Kelly. He felt his foot hit something and shone his light down on the floor.

A black, L.A. County Fire Department helmet—with a paramedic's emblem on it—appeared.

Stanley picked the helmet up and turned to Stoker, feeling rather smug. "I told you there was a 'reasonable' explanation."

"We were both right," Mike immediately came back, looking—and sounding—equally pleased with himself. "Remember? I said that there was somebody hiding in this house…"

Hank flashed his 'know-it-all' engineer an unseen smile.

Roy got Rampart's ordered IV established and its flow rate adjusted. "Cap, possible pelvic fracture. I'm gonna need some help getting him on the backboard…"

His shiftmates promptly positioned themselves around Mr. Bentley's motionless body.

"On three," Roy informed his helpers. "One…two…three."

The victim was lifted carefully off the floor, just enough for the paramedic to slide the backboard under him.

"On three, again," DeSoto told his helping hands. "One…two…three."

Mr. Bentley was gently lowered, face first, onto the backboard and immediately immobilized.

The back-boarded Mr. Bentley was then placed onto the waiting gurney, and quickly buckled in.

Roy snatched the Bio-phone back up. "Rampart, Squad 51. The, uh, victim's vitals are now stable and he's ready to transport…"

"Roger, 51," Dr. Brackett came back. "Transport immediately. 51, what is your ETA?"

"Squad 51. ETA is approximately fifteen minutes, Rampart."

"10-4, 51."

Roy gave the two ambulance guys a nod and they began guiding the gurney off across the darkened room.

"Somebody wanna get the mirror?" the lead attendant requested, as they neared the concealed room's far wall.

Mike and Marco watched—wide-eyed—as their Captain proceeded to walk right through the wall, closely followed by the attendants, the stretcher and an equipment-laden Roy DeSoto.

Hank suddenly poked his helmeted head back into the hidden room. "Chet, take the Squad! Mike, Marco, bring the gear! And, for Pete's sake, make darn sure you bring everything! I don't want to ever have to come back here again—ever!" he re-emphasized, with a slight shudder.

His crew exchanged unseen grins, and eagerly complied.

Dr. Kelly Brackett entered Room 202 and noted that John Gage was no longer sedated. The physician frowned and glanced at his watch. It was going on four in the morning. "What are you still doing up?" he wondered, and began giving his restless patient a quick—but careful—once over.

"I was just about to ask you the same question, Doc." The fireman gazed up at the off-duty doctor, looking completely baffled. "Don't you ever sleep? An', since when, do you get called out—in the middle of the night—for a simple concussion, anyway?"

"Since I left standing orders with Admissions, to be notified whenever any of my family members or close, personal friends come through this hospital's doors."

"Yah mean…you actually got 'called in'…just for me?" the paramedic tentatively inquired, following several seconds of stunned silence.

"Twice!" Kel informed his young friend, with a rather wry smile. "You made both lists," the physician further explained and his wry smile broadened into a grin. Brackett gave his 'Rampart Family' member's right wrist a reassuring squeeze.

Gage returned the good doctor's grin. "How are Mr. and Mrs. Bentley doing?"

"Margaret Bentley is one door down, and is currently awake. She claims she must've fainted from all the excitement, fell back—and hit her head on the desk. All her tests came back negative, and one of the prescriptions you sent in with her is for hypotension. So I can't really argue with her 'syncopal episode' claim.

Arthur Bentley is alive—thanks to you. He came to in the treatment room. He has a mild concussion. X-rays revealed a hairline pelvic fracture on the left side, and a couple of busted ribs on the right. We were able to replace his blood loss, from the pelvic trauma. As to 'how' Mr. Bentley is currently doing…You'll be able to see for yourself in just a few more minutes. Seems the Orthopedics' Ward is overflowing. So we're going to be moving him in here—with you." Kel gave his concussed patient a concerned stare. "Speaking of you…How are you doing? Any dizziness, headaches, blurred vision, nausea?"

"No. Yes. No. Yes," Johnny smartly replied.

The doctor was displeased to hear the paramedic's response. "You make a lousy patient," Kel lightly determined. The physician picked up his 'lousy' patient's medical chart and quickly jotted down a couple of orders, for some pain relief—and some Compazine.

The paramedic, on the other hand, was pleased to hear his doctor's response. "Hopefully, the lousier I am, the faster you'll get rid of me. I wanna go back to work."

"You won't be going back to work until you get your stitches out. So you may as well relax…enjoy your stay…and work at becoming a 'model' patient."

"When can I get my stitches out?"

"Oh-oh…a week to ten days ought to do it."

"What am I supposed to do—for a week to ten days?"

"I'll be keeping you here for a couple more days—for observation. After that, you can use that famous imagination and curiosity of yours…" The doctor paused, looking extremely pleased. "You probably won't be able to stay out of trouble, but you shouldn't have any problem staying busy." Kel gave his forlorn young friend's wrist another reassuring squeeze and then disappeared out into the hall.

John Gage gazed glumly up at the ceiling. The looking 'black and blue', and feeling just a tad bit blue paramedic continued to just lie there, in his uncomfortable hospital bed, impatiently awaiting the arrival of his new 'roomy'.

Thanks to Dr. Brackett's Demerol and Compazine prescriptions, John was finally able to rest—comfortably.

In fact, the fireman slept clear through his roommate's noisy arrival, and didn't awaken again, until nearly nine.

John blinked his view of the ceiling clear and then carefully turned his heavily bandaged head to the right.

There was, indeed, a body in the bed next to his, and the guy was also awake. "Arthur Bentley," the old gentleman introduced.

"John Gage," John managed to answer back, after clearing his throat a couple of times.

"What happened to you?"

"The same thing that happened to you. Only, I didn't break anything."

Speaking of breaking things...

Mr. Bentley's face broke into a broad grin. "You must be the guy the doctor was telling me about! You must be the young fireman who saved my life!"

"I think the guys I work with saved your life. I just told them where to find you."

"You saved my life," Arthur assured him. "I would have died at the bottom of that stairs, if it weren't for you."

"Your wife would have told them about you, when she woke up."

"Perhaps. But the doc' seemed to think that it would have been too late, by then. So…thanks!"

Gage returned the grateful old gentleman's grin. "You're welcome."

Mr. Bentley suddenly turned solemn. "I'm sorry…I nearly got all three of us killed. And all because I watched that stupid 'Late Late Show' a few days ago. That movie got me thinking. Yah see, my brother, Eric, died last year and left me his estate—along with a mortgage as large as the house. I told Peggy—that's my wife's name—I told her that Eric was the 'secret passage' type. So I started measuring rooms. None of the rooms' inside diameters matched their outside diameters. So I knew I was right about Eric. The whole house is riddled with secret passageways and hidden staircases! Unfortunately, the first one I found, nearly got me…and Peggy—and you killed!" His head turned toward the hospital room's far wall. "They say she's gonna be all right…"

Gage's grin returned. "If THEY say it, it's gotta be true. THEY know everything."

Mr. Bentley gave his roomy a strange stare.

Suddenly, somebody tapped on the open door to their room.

Craig Brice was standing in the open doorway. "Gage," he aloofly acknowledged. "May I come in?"

John overcame his astonishment and nodded.

Brice stepped into the room and began to pace—back and forth—at the foot of Gage's hospital bed. "First, I'm glad that you are going to be all right. Second, headquarters has just informed me that I will be replacing you…again. Replacing you is becoming a full time job. How can I build up my seniority at 16's, if I'm always over at 51's—replacing you? Third, I do wish that you would 'try' to be more careful. You may find this difficult to believe, but I don't perform as well when I am working with DeSoto. I sense a hostile attitude, on his part. It interferes with my concentration. Bellingham and I are much more compatible."

'Yeah,' Gage silently agreed. 'That's because he lets you walk all over him.'

"And so, you will try to be more careful in the future. Won't you, Gage," Brice told, more than asked, him. "For your sake, as well as mine."

"Yeah. Sure," John assured his visitor. 'For my sake…and your sake…and my poor partner's sake,' he silently added. 'Forgive me, Roy.'

"Excellent!" Craig declared. "Then I wish you a speedy recovery." With that, and a wave, he left the room.

Arthur Bentley stared after him. "Now, there goes a very concerned young man," he determined. "Too bad it's only with himself."

John snickered at his roommate's astute observation.

"He must be real 'interesting' to work with," Mr. Bentley 'politely' figured.

"I've never had that dubious pleasure. He's my replacement. My partner, Roy, has had to work with him, though. Roy claims he wouldn't mind working with Brice, if Brice would only work with him. Don't get me wrong. Craig is a great paramedic. If you don't believe me, just ask him. He'll tell you how great he is. In fact, he'll tell you how great he is even without being asked."

Mr. Bentley found the young fireman's sarcastic comments most amusing.

There was another knock on their door.

"In the mood for some visitors?" Roy DeSoto hopefully inquired.

John's eyes just about bugged right out of his head.

There, standing in the hallway, was 51's entire A-shift crew…minus one.

"Of course!" Gage assured him—er, them. "C'mon in, guys!"

The off-duty firemen filed into the room and gathered around their fallen comrade's hospital bed.

"We found something that belongs to you," Hank announced with a smile, and handed the paramedic his helmet.

John kept his recovered headgear, but returned his Captain's smile. "Thanks, Cap...guys."

"Yeah," Arthur Bentley piped up. "Thanks, guys! Yous saved my life!"

"You're welcome," Hank Stanley assured the elderly gentleman in the bed next to Gage's. "We're just glad that everything worked out all right, for you and your wife."

"Say," Mr. Bentley continued, "when I get back on my feet, how would you guys like to come over and help me find more secret passageways? The old house is full of 'em!"

"Count me in!" Mike Stoker promptly responded.

"Me, too!" Marco Lopez eagerly volunteered.

"Sure!" John Gage joined in. "Why not? As long as we all wear hardhats and safety belts."

"This is gonna be so-o-o-o-o incredibly cool!" Chet Kelly confidently predicted. "Just like in the movies!"

John turned to Kelly, looking completely confused. "Che-et, I thought you said that old house gives you the willies…"

"It does! Big time!"

"Then why on earth do you wanna go back there?"

"For the same reason I stay up til two in the morning watching horror movies on the 'Late Late Show', Gage. Cuz it's kind a' fun to be scared…sometimes," Chet further specified, with a waggle of his bushy brows.

Kelly's light-hearted, but truthful, comments prompted more than a few groans and grins.

Hank Stanley turned to his senior paramedic, and the two of them exchanged eye rolls.

The End