The Missions

The call was at the transit authority station,.for some type of medical aid. As usual, our patient was a transient. As usual the complaint was not for an emergent condition, but was one of a chronic-maintenance nature.

As it was a summer evening, the crowd of the usual suspects were present, with the usual chemicals on board. As usual the local Po-Po were dispatched to this location with us, as the usual suspects tended to cause the usual kinds of trouble.

We accessed our patient, heard his complaint and began our assessment. It was at about this time that our ambulance rolled up, followed immediately by the beat cop.

As usual, the usual suspects were full of energy and noise, offering diagnoses to us and advice to our patient. As usual, the beat cop was in a grumpy mood.

As we were the only thing going on at the TA station, the crowd was growing and were closing in. No worries for us, we opted to load and go. It was at that time that the grumpy beat cop decided that the crowd needed to move along.

"Awright you motherf*&^ers, back up."

Not a very diplomatic statement, but was very clear and to the point. Unfortunately, it did not produce the desired effect.

"I said, assholes, back the f*&^ up."

This brought protests from the crowd, some profanities came back toward us. Further inflammatory statements went back toward the crowd. I think that additional P.D. units were requested at about that time. A few seconds later, a bottle could be heard shattering against the concrete.

We expedited loading our patient,  saw that the additional coppers were arriving and we left. Hurriedly.

Oddly enough, that was our last call of the shift.

The next morning, I got off duty and returned home. I walked in the door and checked the machine. There was a message on it, asking me to call work and talk to my counterpart on the other shift. I called Eddie, thinking he was going to offer me some OT.

"Hey Schmoe, the resuscitator is missing off of the rescue. Ya know where it is?"

Shit. I knew exactly where it was. Or where it had been last night.

I took a quick shower, threw on some clothes and headed back to downtown Metroville. My first stop was the transit authority station. Of course, the resuscitator is not where I left it, nor is it at the security desk. The guard on duty did say that he saw one of the usual suspects with it earlier in the morning.

From the guards description, I had a pretty good idea of who had it. The guy was a transient who hung out down town and had a severe drinking problem. His only mission in life was to get cash to buy booze.

I figured since he needed to convert the resuscitator into cash, he would start visiting the local pawnshops and try to hock it. I was right. The very first pawn shop I visited said that someone had been in about an hour before me, trying to pawn a piece of medical equipment.

There were six pawn shops in downtown Metroville at that time. I visited them all. My resuscitator had visited them all on that day as well, just earlier. None of the pawn shops wanted anything to do with the resuscitator, there just wasn't a big enough market for it to allow them to make any money. By the time I hit the last pawn, I was only 30 minutes behind him

I drove the streets for a little while, looking for my resuscitator and the person who had it. Sadly, I had no luck. I finally decided to stop by the TA station on the hope that I could find someone to tell me where this guy might be..

I was quite surprized when I opened the door to the TA station and saw the transiient standing at the security desk with the resuscitator in his hands.

I was kind of a jerk. I walked up and grabbed it from him. I chewed him out for not turning it in when he found it. He let me grind on him a little bit before he told me that I needed to look at it from his perspective.

Basically, he told me that when you live on the street, everything you see and do is evaluated as a potential income source. A can, bottle or an unlocked car all have the potential of producing income of some kind. A transient's job is to exploit these opportunities to their maximum potential.

This guy knew what he had was valuable and thought that the pawn brokers would give him the most money for it. He just didn't know how narrow the market would be for a used resuscitator. He decided to turn it in to the security desk at the TA station in hopes that a reward would be given.

I opened up my wallet and gave him $16 dollars. It was all that I had. I figured that I had been spared a written reprimand, plus promotional exams were coming up and I didn't need the publicity. I also was grateful that he hadn't just tossed the resuscitator ib a dumpster somewhere, once he figured out no one was willing to pawn against it.

Looking back, I realize that both of us completed our mission that day. I recovered my equipment, he got enough cash to buy more booze. We both won, it was a small price to pay to get it back.

Thanks for reading,
Schmoe