25 January 1994 - Crystal Street, Malden, Massachusetts

Jeff saw the other person’s mouth set into a smirk when he stepped in front of Jeff. For his part the attacker thought this ambush strategy was a pretty good one; it was successful for him every time he’d tried it. He stepped towards Jeff with the knife extended.

An assailant holding a knife within twenty-one feet is considered an immediate life threat for police officers; that assailant could close with and kill the officer before a duty weapon could be drawn and fired. Great care is taken to teach recruits never to allow such an assailant that close to them. Anyone advancing on them with a knife runs the risk of an officer reacting with deadly force. Such force, especially if the assailant ignores commands to stop, is justified.

Jeff was just inside that twenty-one foot zone and closing. His momentum would carry him into the assailant before he could stop; he’d be on his heels and on the defensive. He was unarmed, like all of the other victims. The man had always walked away with all of his victim’s belongings or cash.

Until today.

The assailant’s first hint that his choice of tactics might be flawed was when Jeff’s eyes narrowed, rather than widening in fear. The next and more concerning hint was the snarl Jeff’s mouth curled into. Standard infantry tactics when being ambushed called for immediately assaulting through the ambush itself. The instructors at Fort Benning had taught Jeff well.

Jeff let out a war cry and accelerated. The attacker was startled, causing him to begin to back-pedal. Jeff closed with the assailant in two strides. His left hand knocked the knife away. He put all of his weight behind a devastating right cross and crashed into his attacker; his attacker landed on the track unconscious. Jeff kept his feet and began scanning the area for other threats.

A Malden police officer came charging out of the shadows, his weapon drawn. Jeff could see a motionless cruiser just behind his car; its emergency lights were flashing and the driver’s door was wide open. A second cruiser, approaching from the opposite end of the access road, slid to a stop; that officer dismounted and began running over as well. Jeff’s hands went up right away.

“Turn around!” the officer barked; Jeff complied without hesitation. “Hands behind your head!” Done. “On your knees!” Jeff knelt. He heard the officer’s weapon slide back into his holster; a strong hand grabbed his interlaced fingers before the first handcuff fastened around his left wrist. His hands were then placed in the small of his back while the second cuff was secured around his right.

“Scott, he has a knife,” Jeff said.

The officer paused in his actions before Jeff heard, “Watch that other guy, Eric. There’s a knife in his right hand.” The officer pulled the hood of Jeff’s sweatshirt off his head; he searched it before he came into view. “Who the hell... ?” the officer started to ask. “Jeff?”

“Hi, Scott.” The first officer was Scott Nyquist, someone he’d seen on a number of the ambulance calls he’d handled in Malden. Jeff turned his head to look at the other officer. “Hey, Eric.” The same was true of Eric Ryerson.

“Jeff, are you okay? I saw that guy pull out the knife right before you ran into him.”

“I’m okay, Scott, thanks.”

“What happened?”

“Scott, can we move over there, out of hearing distance of that other guy, before I answer any questions?”

“Scott, this guy’s unconscious,” Eric reported. “I’m gonna call for an ambulance.” Scott nodded.

“Let me help you up and take the cuffs off, Jeff,” Scott said. He helped Jeff to his feet. He led Jeff back down the track and started asking questions in a quiet voice. Jeff described what he’d seen and how he’d reacted. “You’ll have to sign a statement. Can you come down to the station tonight?”

“Yeah. Can I head over there to give it now? I’m sweating and I’m gonna start getting cold at this temperature.”

“Sure. You’ll have to wait in the lobby until either Eric or I get there, though; one of us has to go to the hospital with that other guy.”

“Good morning, Mr. Brophy,” Jeff said after he knocked on the man’s door.

“Hey, Jeff. I hear you had quite the evening last night.”

Jeff sighed. “Yes, sir. May I ask you which law firm you use? I think I might find myself in need of representation soon.”

“Is that guy suing you already?”

“No, but as the Boy Scouts tell us, ‘Be Prepared, ‘ sir.”

Seamus nodded, jotting something on a Post-It note. “If he can’t help you, Norm will point you in the right direction.”

“Thank you, sir. I’ll get out of your hair.”

“You’d have to be in it first, Jeff. I’ve always got time for the people who work for me, especially someone who’s a great asset to this company. How’s your new partner working out?”

“Great kid, sir. He’ll go as far as he wants to, especially now that he’s taken a deep breath and allowed himself to settle in. I think he’s also got his eye on one of the ER nurses at Malden.”

“Your friend Charlie?”

“No, sir. Charlie’s already in a relationship. It’s a newer hire there, Beth. Nice girl.”

“He ask her out yet?”

“No, sir. They’re both dancing around each other like skittish fawns. It’d be comical if it wasn’t so adorable.”

“What about you, Jeff?”

“No rush, sir; I’m only twenty-four. Choose in haste and you’ll repent in leisure.”

“I think I’m going to ask Beth out today,” Sean announced two weeks later.

“It’s about time. You guys have been dancing around each other long enough.” Sean blew him a raspberry. “If it will help any, offer her a dinner hosted by mutual friends before you do a solo date; ease into things if you need to. Otherwise, you could keep that offer in your back pocket for after you two get to know each other on your own.”

“Yeah, but who’s gonna help out like that?”

“I’ve been known to cook a meal or two. Charlie will you help out, too.”

“I’ve gotta hear a ‘yes’ from her first.”

“Like that’s gonna be a problem.” Jeff wasn’t about to wait for Fate to get its act together; he drove straight to Malden ER.

“What are you doing?” Sean asked in a near panic.

“Improving response time. Get in there and ask that little girl for a date.”

“Oh, shit. Shit, that coffee just turned to lead in my stomach.”

“You want me to grab a barf bag from the back?”

“I might need it.”

“Your red hair goes well with the shade of green you’re turning. The freckles clash a little, though.”

“You’re not helping.”

“Sure I am; you’re being too serious. It’s like you’ve never asked a girl out before.” Sean turned a greenish-red. “Wait, you haven’t have you?”

“No. I was a real bookworm in school; college wasn’t much different.”

“Then there’s no time like the present. Let’s go, youngster.” Jeff exited the ambulance.

“Shit,” Sean said to himself before opening his door.

A condemned man took his final walk with more enthusiasm than Sean while they approached the doors to the ER. “Show a little life, buddy,” Jeff admonished him. “You’re about to get yourself a date.” Sean shot him a look.

Jeff entered the ER and approached the nurses’ desk. He leaned against it and began chatting up the assembled staff; the ladies were soon in stitches. He glanced back at Sean. The younger man looked like he was standing on the edge of a cliff, about to fall over. Jeff raised his eyebrow at Sylvia who held up five fingers, indicating Beth was in Room Five.

Jeff pushed off the counter, circled behind Sean and gave him a firm shove in that direction. Sean gave Jeff a look which promised retribution as he stumbled towards Room Five. Jeff just motioned for him to get moving. Sean peeked around the door frame to see Beth checking the equipment and stock levels in that room. He knocked and caught her attention.

“Sean!” she exclaimed with a bright smile.

Sean wasn’t sure whether that made him more or less nervous. “Hi, Beth.” She walked closer; he could smell the faint fragrance of her shampoo. He swallowed and summoned all of his courage. “I was wondering if you’d like to go out with me some time?”

Her smile grew wider. “Yes!”

“Really? That’s great! Um, there’s a little Irish pub up in Wakefield we could go to? It’s a really nice place and the food’s terrific.”

“That sounds good to me. When would you like to go out? I’m off tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow works for me, too. Would you like to meet there at seven?”

“So? How’d it go, Romeo?” Jeff asked Sean three days later, during their next shift together.

“Really well. We even went out again last night. She’s terrific.”

“Good for you, buddy. See? It wasn’t that hard was it?”

“No,” he admitted, “it really wasn’t. Makes me wonder what life would have been like growing up if I’d taken that risk a time or two.”

Jeff wondered what his own life would have been like if he hadn’t those same risks.

“I can’t believe the nerve of that guy!”

“To be fair, he was doing his job.”

“Wait, you’re defending the defense attorney?“

“The guy wasn’t a dick to me. He seemed to be genuinely apologetic for calling me an ‘ambulance driver;’ after I corrected him he didn’t use the term again. He even apologized again after his client was led away in handcuffs. The kid looked like he isn’t much older than we are; this has to be his first job out of law school.”

“Still...”

“Sean, a good defense attorney is the reason I’m here and not doing a long stretch in Leavenworth.”

“What?”

“Someone tried to frame me for a robbery at Fort Bragg when I was stationed there in 1988; my defense attorney got the charges dismissed and kept my record clean. The person who tried to frame me is at Leavenworth, not me. The asshole who tried to rob me last month was found guilty and will likely spend the next several years as a guest of the Commonwealth.”

Jeff smiled when he stepped out of the condo in early March. Winter had departed Eastern Massachusetts early this year; temperatures were in the mid-forties already, the snow was almost all gone and the sun was shining while he drove the three minutes to Brophy EMS’s headquarters. It was going to be a good day.

Jeff walked into the headquarters building and punched in. He waved to the folks in the communications center through the room’s large window. He was chatting with his old partner Aaron Steele when the on-duty shift supervisor, Lon Ferullo, poked his head into the break room.

“Hey, Jeff, just the guy I’m looking for!”

“Wasn’t there, Lon. Didn’t do it.”

“Very funny, wise guy. There’s someone out in the front office asking for you.”

“Probably a process server,” he muttered to Aaron while he rose from his chair.

“That paternity suit finally going to trial?”

“Yeah, your wife lied to me; she told me she’d let you think the kid was yours.”

“That’s cold, buddy. Cold, cold, cold,” Aaron laughed as Jeff exited with Lon.

“Tough room,” Lon commented while they made their way to the lobby.

“Have you seen Aaron’s wife? ¡Ai, caramba! Holy hotness, Batman!”

The two were laughing when they stepped into the reception area. There was a clean-shaven man, dressed simply in a plaid flannel shirt and jeans, standing there. He looked vaguely familiar to Jeff.

“George?“

“Hi, Jeff.”

“George!” Jeff stepped over and embraced the man whose name used to make crews cringe. “You look great, George! How have you been?”

“It’s been an interesting month, that’s for sure. Those first few days after you dropped me off at the hospital were the worst. I shook so hard while I was drying out I thought the fillings would fly out of my teeth.”

“When did you get out of your treatment program?”

“I finished the in-patient portion last week; I’m in the residential portion of the program now. You know their halfway house near the hospital, I’d imagine?”

“Vaguely. The folks that are there rarely call us, so we don’t go there much. Is that where you’ll be for a while?”

“For at least six months. It’s close enough that I can walk to my new job at the hospital.”

“What will you be doing there?”

“Housekeeping.”

“Weren’t you a stockbroker or something before?”

George nodded sadly. “That was my old life, Jeff. It’d be easy to say that job is what started me down my path of destruction, but it was mostly me. The job certainly didn’t help any. No, I lost my job, my wife and seven years to the bottle; I need to start slowly. Housekeeping will be a good job.”

“I’m sure you’ll do great. Have you been by the ER since you got out, or now that you’ll be working there?”

“No. I need to go by and thank them for giving me that one last chance, but I’ll be working the floors for now; I asked if I could not be assigned to the ER, given my history.”

“Has it been as hard as you thought?”

George snorted. “Do you know how many package stores are around here? How big’s that one in Wellington Circle over in Medford?”

“Did you walk here? Across the city?”

“It’s a nice day,” George shrugged.

Jeff looked at Lon, who nodded. “Come on,” Jeff said to George. “We’ll give you a ride over to the hospital, save you some shoe leather.”

George accepted the offer. They passed Seamus Brophy’s office while they walked towards the garage. George stopped, introduced himself and explained who he was; he thanked Mr. Brophy for the care the crews always tried to give him, even when he wasn’t willing to accept it. He named Jeff specifically as his savior which Jeff downplayed. He and Sean drove him back to the west side of the city. George was as nervous to enter the Emergency Room as Sean was before asking Beth out.

“Come on, George. They’ll be glad to see you; we rarely see the success stories.”

“I haven’t succeeded yet, Jeff,” George pointed out.

“Yes, you have; you just said ‘yet.’ You’re already thinking positive. Come on.”

George trailed Sean and Jeff as they entered. The two EMTs greeted the staff on-duty, many of whom George felt he still owed apologies. When Jeff introduced the person standing behind him, you’d have thought he’d just introduced the President. All of the nurses who’d had George as a patient came around the desk to give him a hug. They complimented him on his appearance and congratulated him on his new job; they asked when he’d be starting and were disappointed when they learned he wouldn’t be assigned to the ER.

Jeff turned to Charlie after she’d greeted George. “Is it in your trunk still?” he asked in a whisper.

“Yeah, do you have your set of my keys on you?”

“Yeah, I’ll go grab it.” Jeff darted out to Charlie’s car, retrieved an item from the trunk and darted back to the ER. He hid the item in the break room.

“George, come into the break room for a second,” Charlie said, waving George over. “We’ve got a little something for you,” she said before producing the guitar case from behind her.

George looked at the case in awe. He’d been dreaming of holding a guitar again since his conversation with Jeff in the back of the ambulance. He walked over to the table where the case lay. He unsnapped the latches with Charlie’s encouragement; he lifted the six-string acoustic guitar out of the lined enclosure with reverence. He sat and strummed it, checking its tuning. The full, resonant sound it produced buoyed his soul. He looked over at Jeff who smiled.

An inspiration struck George. “Comfortably Numb” sounded better on an electric guitar, but there was a song from that same album that was made for an acoustic. George began to play the opening part to that song. Jeff and Charlie knew the song right away; even without the bass riff, it was immediately recognizable from the first chord.

Hey you, out there in the cold,
Getting lonely, getting old,
Can you feel me?
Hey you, standing in the aisles,
With itchy feet and fading smiles,
Can you feel me?
Hey you, don’t help them to bury the light.
Don’t give in without a fight.

George’s voice was perfect. So was his guitar work. Charlie joined voices with him while he played, adding her voice as Roger Waters to George’s David Gilmour. The impromptu concert was watched in silence until they reached the end of the song; the others in the break room burst into applause. George smiled at the assembled staff with watery eyes while he caressed the guitar in his hands.

“Thank you. Thank you to all of you, for everything. Thank you, especially for the times when I didn’t even try to accept the help you were trying to give me. Thank you.”

“So how’s George doing at the job? Have you heard anything?”

“From what Charlie’s heard, he’s busting his ass this first month. I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s a bit of fear driving him, too.”

“Yeah, I can’t imagine what’s worse, baking in the summer or freezing in the winter.”

“I know it’s early, but I think he’s gonna be just fine. Speaking of fear, how are things going with Beth? You were about to throw up the day you asked her out, but you made it through.”

“It’s been amazing. I keep waiting for the punchline, waiting for the other shoe to drop, but it’s going great.”

“The most important thing is communication, Sean. Make sure you take the time to listen to her, and to tell her how you’re feeling as well. You know my first girlfriend when I was a sophomore in high school was a junior at the time, right?”

“No, really?”

“True story. I flat-out told her I was scared when we were just starting to date; that set the stage for constant, honest communication between Pauline and me. She told me to trust my instincts and to say something if I was concerned.”

“I’ll remember that, thanks.”

“Anyway, if you guys don’t already have plans for Saturday night, why don’t you two come over my to condo for dinner. There will be another person there we all know, as well as someone I don’t think you guys have met yet.”

“Your roommates? I’ve been wondering when I’d meet them; we’ve been working together for going on six months and I haven’t met them yet. You barely talk about them, either.”

Sean escorted Beth to the front door of Jeff’s condo. He’d been there plenty of times when Jeff needed to grab something from inside, but he hadn’t been inside yet. His arm was around Beth’s waist as he rang the bell. The door opened and they both got a big shock.

“Hey, you two!” exclaimed Charlie. “Come on in!”

“Hi, Charlie,” Beth said. She knew that someone she knew would be here, but she was confused.

“Welcome. Let me take your coats.” Charlie put their coats in the closet by the door. “Come on into the kitchen; we’re hanging out in there.” They followed her through the living room and into the kitchen.

“Hey, guys!” called Jeff while he stood at the stove. “Welcome!” He turned from the meal he was making and greeted their guests. He was wearing a “Kiss the Cook” apron. A blonde woman stood behind him.

“Sean, Beth, I’d like to introduce you to Emilie D’Avril; she’s Charlie’s partner and my friend-slash-roommate. Emilie, this is Beth Hargraves who works with Charlie at Malden ER, and Sean McNeil who works with me.”

“Very nice to meet you both,” Emilie said, shaking their hands. “Jeff, how long?”

“I’m using fresh fettuccine, so it’ll be ready almost as soon as I put it in the water. I’ll need to start rendering the pancetta five minutes or so after I start heating the water. Twenty minutes to cook everything, tops. Why don’t we sit and have drinks? I’ll start everything in about an hour; we can serve the salad then.”

Emilie asked what the younger couple wanted to drink. She filled the order and everyone moved to the living room. A small selection of hors d’ouvres was waiting on the coffee table there.

Charlie looked at her coworker. “No one’s ever said anything to you about this, have they?”

“No,” Beth answered.

“This isn’t going to be a problem, is it?”

“No! Charlie, you’re my friend! Period! End of story!”

“Thanks, Beth. It has been a problem for some people. One of those people was fired by the hospital because of something she said in the cafeteria one day; she had the misfortune of saying that something as she sat behind a member of administration at lunch.”

“What about you, Sean?” Jeff asked.

“Yeah, I’m that stupid. Of course not, Jeff! After five months I’m gonna suddenly turn into a narrow-minded asshole?”

“Relax, Sean. You know how fast my life blew up last spring, right? Let’s just say that kinda thing sticks with you.”

Jeff and Sean sat on the back patio of the condo three hours later, each holding a beer. Sean wore his winter coat and gloves; it was close to nine p.m. in late April after all, and he wasn’t used to the cold yet. Jeff wore a sweatshirt.

“You guys seem really well matched, you and Beth.”

“It’s weird, but you’re right. It’s not effortless but it feels like it is.” Sean took a swig of his beer. “How come you never said anything about your living situation or Charlie’s ‘relationship status?’”

“Does it really matter, Sean? It’s no great secret, but I also don’t go broadcasting it to the entire eastern seaboard, either. Charlie and Emilie are great together and they’re happy. They’re also my friends, which means I’m happy for them. For a while Emilie had some trust issues; if I’d have gone talking about them out of school, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be living here.”

Sean nodded, taking another sip. “I understand about keeping things private.”

“Like about you being Mr. Brophy’s son?” Sean nearly dropped his beer in shock. “Sean, of the one hundred sixty-eight hours in the week, how many do we spend together at work? Add in the drink we get after our shift on Saturdays, breakfast on Friday mornings after we get out of our overnight ... Plus, I caught that look you and your dad shared back in November. As with the girls you’re my friend, Sean; it’s nobody else’s business, so I haven’t mentioned that to anyone.“

Sean turned and stared towards the trees at the fence line. Jeff did the same; he looked through them to the still-lit track at Malden Catholic, waiting for his friend to say something.

“Mom and Dad met in college, at BC. Mom wanted out of Carolina like I did and chose to come to Boston College after she graduated high school. Dad was a sophomore when she arrived for her freshman year in 1970; he’d come home from Vietnam in 1968 and was using his G.I. Bill benefit there. They met just after the start of classes. By mid-September they were dating. By Halloween they were sleeping together. By Thanksgiving she was pregnant.”

“Mom was frantic. Two days before Christmas break she went to my Dad to tell him. He hesitated in his shock and she ran; she didn’t even give him the chance to process what he’d just heard. He tried to go after her but she gave him the slip. By the time he got to her dorm, they refused to let her know he was there; she’d told them not to and she was out the door with only some of her things.”

“She arrived back in Clinton crying. It took my grandparents nearly a day to get her to tell them what the problem was. That was the last day my grandfather ever spoke to her. There was no abortion back then. Unwed mothers were vile harlots and nothing more. Mom was bundled off to a distant cousin in Nevada before her ‘condition’ was noticeable; she was kept on a remote ranch, out of sight, until I’d been born. I was three months old when she went back home.”

“Mammy, my grandmother, loved her and me. The family would be ridiculed either way, so she tried to make the best of it. Pappy wanted nothing to do with either of us; he never said a word to me, never held me, a day in my life. I don’t think I ever heard him speak inside the house. He wouldn’t leave Mammy, but there was no joy in that house, either.”

“I asked who my father was and where he was one day when I was six or seven; it was then that I learned how angry my mother could get. I think the right word is either ‘conniption’ or ‘apoplectic.’ I never asked about my Dad again. I started to be as angry as her whenever I thought about him. I was mad. All of that - Pappy not talking to me, Mom and I angry all of the time - that’s part of the reason I’d never asked anyone out before I asked Beth out. If it wasn’t for Mammy I probably wouldn’t be speaking to you right now; I wouldn’t know how to interact on a personal level.”

“I was about fourteen when I found a box of the letters my Dad had sent me when I was young. Mammy must have seen that he was trying to do the right thing by my Mom, but Mom rejected that. He sent letters until I was five or so, but then stopped. In his last letter he said that if I ever wanted to get ahold of him in the future, he could be reached at such-and-such an address.”

“It took me a year to get over my mad and make the phone call; Dad cried when I introduced myself as his son. Mom found out I’d called him and didn’t speak to me for close to two months. By the time I got to Duke I was already planning to move here after I graduated. Once I was out of the house I was able to sign up for my own calling card; Mom didn’t get the bill or get to see who I’d called.”

“I began to talk to Dad regularly. He flew down as soon as I told him I was ready to meet him; he hugged me for almost fifteen minutes while he cried. He’d never stopped thinking about me but, after Mammy passed, there was no longer a conduit for him to have any sort of contact. There were no letters dated after Mammy died.”

“Dad told me he’d put every penny of support he owed over the years into an account for me. He’s got good financial people working for him; that account is more than three times as large as what he’d owed. Basically, I’m a rich man. I could choose not to work for the next ten years and I’d be okay; I’d have to watch my spending to stretch that, but that’s how much there is.”

Jeff sat silently while Sean let out the secret he’d been keeping; he kept quiet for another four or five minutes after Sean fell silent. “Sean, as I said, no one else knows of my suspicions to this point, nor will anyone hear anything of what you just told me. This is your story, it’s not mine to tell and it will never be. You do, however, need to decide how and when to tell Beth your story. This is not something you can keep from her if you’re going to stay in any sort of relationship with her.”