Josef sprayed water into the back cab of the ambulance. One hand held a thin hose that was fastened to one of many outdoor faucets near the hospitals emergency room unloading dock. His other hand held a squidgy that was attached to a pole. After a few seconds of spraying the cabs floor, Josef scraped the water out with the rubber squidgy. He did this a few more times. A quick burst of water, followed by a scraping. Gradually the regurgitated stomach contents of his last passenger were completely removed. Taking a detergent Josef sprayed around the entirety of the cabs floor; did another burst of water spray and one more squidgy scraping. When he heard the distinct screeching sound of rubber on metal, the man knew the floor was nearly dry.
Setting the hose into the grass, the man placed the squidgy into a side compartment on the outside of the ambulance then climbed in. Grabbing several paper towels, he began to a thorough scrubbing down of the medics’ bench. Finding spots where the patients stomach fluid had hidden itself, the Paramedic diligently ensured every nook and cranny of his cab was cleaned. It wasn’t just because Josef didn’t want a smell to set in. It was for patient safety. After each transfer of someone, the ambulance had to be cleaned to ensure any potential chance of pathogens spreading was eliminated.
“They’re laughing at me in there.” A man said walking up to the rear of the Ambulance.
Josef laughed, “Bob, it was pretty funny, no?”
Josef turned as he began pulling off his gloves to peer at a middle aged gentleman. Standing at five and a half feet, Bob had a little pudge around the waist line. Silver hair was slowly receding across the top of his scalp. His face held the signs of years of service; the stress of a Paramedics life unmistakable. He was dressed in the same black uniform as Josef. On the knees and the entire length of their arms were white reflectors. To truly set them apart from other Emergency Service Personnel on Dantooine; they both wore a thin blue vests that had numerous pockets which held various tools. On the back of the vests was another bright reflector patch with the word “Paramedic” in bold lettering. The only difference in their uniforms were the stitched on nameplates. Josef’s read ‘Ibn-Abad’ above his right breast pocket. Bobs read ‘Fellows’. Unlike Bob, Josef also wore a black baseball cap with the Star of Life, a universal medical sign, symbol stitched on.
“No. No it wasn’t.” The man protested as he adjusted his thick black belt. “Having a child upchuck on you because the driver of your ambulance took turns too fast? That’s not hilarious. I’ve never had to use my back up uniform until today.”
“In my defense she did not actually get sick until after I parked.” Josef replied with a smug look. “Did I not offer to handle this one before we responded?.”
Bob sighed and helped to clean up. He picked the hose up off the ground and wrapped it around the faucet while Josef grabbed their ambulances gurney which was wheeled out by a nurse. She gave a polite smile at Josef, whom blushed ever so slightly while pulling it towards the back cab.
“You should ask her out.” Bob said as he helped Josef.
“Not going to happen.” Josef replied as he climbed into the drivers seat.
“I know. The whole arranged marriage thing.” Bob replied.
“That is not exactly the entirety of it.” Josef replied.
Josef rarely spoke of his culture. Most of the time the man avoided it completely as either people cracked jokes and made fun of his traditions or they just didn’t understand and simply didn’t care. The concept of relationships and marriage was one of the more complicated aspects of his religious upbringing. Though not a mandatory aspect; his family followed a more modest, more cultured, aspect of it. His parents were the ones responsible for finding his future partner, not him. Whomever they chose he would wed. Regardless if he previously knew the person or not. Archaic? Maybe but it was Josef’s family’s way of doing things. He would respect it.
“I just think you need to live a little before you're forced to settle down. No offense.” Bob said.
Josef smiled, “None taken.” Josef knew Bob. The man may make the occasional joke but there was nothing malicious about them. It was truly all in good ribbing; much like Josefs occasional quips about Bobs hairline.
‘All available units log on.’ A voice broke over the radio.
Bob looked at Josef, whom flipped a switch on the radio. A red light turned green which served as an indicator that the Ambulance was ready for service again.
‘All units Code 9.’ The voice said. Code 9 was a notification that all non-emergency traffic was to cease. Occasionally ambulances communicated with one another in playful banter. Code 9 ceased it. ‘Code 33 is in effect.’ The voice continued. This reaffirmed Code 9. Code 33 was an order that the only voices were to be those on priority emergency response calls.
Josef picked up the radio, “Dispatch, this is 2-7,” he identified his ambulance unit number, “please repeat.”
‘2-7, this is dispatch. Code 33 is in effect. All available units we have a Code 0.’ Josef looked at Bob. Code 0 was simply an all hands on deck emergency. There was no clarification needed for that one.
‘All units respond to Mayorial District.’
“Oh that clusterkark location.” Bob snorted.
Josef groaned with Bob. Garang was in a current state of near civil unrest. For months the Mayor of Garang had been under investigation for embezzling city funds. The funds were discovered to have been siphoned from the public services sector. That meant the people hit by this were First Responders. City Police, Nurses, Fire Fighters, and Paramedic Response Units. This embezzlement had a severe impact on the city. With funds having gone missing, overtime wasn’t approved for anyone. With many services already understaffed that meant response times to emergency’s was impacted. People weren’t happy. The Mayor needed to go. Yet because they were critically essential employees, it meant First Responders like Josef and Bob were not allowed to strike in protest.
In the place of the city’s Emergency personnel on the picket lines were ordinary civilians. Men, women, unfortunately even children that were brought along, all converged on the Mayorial District. Sit ins, demonstrations, and marches had locked down that portion of the Dantooine Capital for weeks. The Mayor had threatened action; to disburse the large crowds but Police had refused to interfere. The crowds had simply swelled. It was only a matter of time before the powder-keg was set off.
Josef listened as other available Ambulances sounded off, "This is 4-9, in route.", "This is 1-8, in route.", "This is 6-9, in route."
Josef clicked his radio, "This is 2-7, in route." Bob meanwhile turned on a digital map program and began typing in. Once he found a location in the Mayorial District, he clicked go and a route formed. Turning on the ambulance lights but not the siren, Josef pulled away from the hospital. "What is happening that everyone needs to respond?"
Bob shook his head, "In that part of town right now? There's only one reason. No need to guess. It's a riot."
Setting the hose into the grass, the man placed the squidgy into a side compartment on the outside of the ambulance then climbed in. Grabbing several paper towels, he began to a thorough scrubbing down of the medics’ bench. Finding spots where the patients stomach fluid had hidden itself, the Paramedic diligently ensured every nook and cranny of his cab was cleaned. It wasn’t just because Josef didn’t want a smell to set in. It was for patient safety. After each transfer of someone, the ambulance had to be cleaned to ensure any potential chance of pathogens spreading was eliminated.
“They’re laughing at me in there.” A man said walking up to the rear of the Ambulance.
Josef laughed, “Bob, it was pretty funny, no?”
Josef turned as he began pulling off his gloves to peer at a middle aged gentleman. Standing at five and a half feet, Bob had a little pudge around the waist line. Silver hair was slowly receding across the top of his scalp. His face held the signs of years of service; the stress of a Paramedics life unmistakable. He was dressed in the same black uniform as Josef. On the knees and the entire length of their arms were white reflectors. To truly set them apart from other Emergency Service Personnel on Dantooine; they both wore a thin blue vests that had numerous pockets which held various tools. On the back of the vests was another bright reflector patch with the word “Paramedic” in bold lettering. The only difference in their uniforms were the stitched on nameplates. Josef’s read ‘Ibn-Abad’ above his right breast pocket. Bobs read ‘Fellows’. Unlike Bob, Josef also wore a black baseball cap with the Star of Life, a universal medical sign, symbol stitched on.
“No. No it wasn’t.” The man protested as he adjusted his thick black belt. “Having a child upchuck on you because the driver of your ambulance took turns too fast? That’s not hilarious. I’ve never had to use my back up uniform until today.”
“In my defense she did not actually get sick until after I parked.” Josef replied with a smug look. “Did I not offer to handle this one before we responded?.”
Bob sighed and helped to clean up. He picked the hose up off the ground and wrapped it around the faucet while Josef grabbed their ambulances gurney which was wheeled out by a nurse. She gave a polite smile at Josef, whom blushed ever so slightly while pulling it towards the back cab.
“You should ask her out.” Bob said as he helped Josef.
“Not going to happen.” Josef replied as he climbed into the drivers seat.
“I know. The whole arranged marriage thing.” Bob replied.
“That is not exactly the entirety of it.” Josef replied.
Josef rarely spoke of his culture. Most of the time the man avoided it completely as either people cracked jokes and made fun of his traditions or they just didn’t understand and simply didn’t care. The concept of relationships and marriage was one of the more complicated aspects of his religious upbringing. Though not a mandatory aspect; his family followed a more modest, more cultured, aspect of it. His parents were the ones responsible for finding his future partner, not him. Whomever they chose he would wed. Regardless if he previously knew the person or not. Archaic? Maybe but it was Josef’s family’s way of doing things. He would respect it.
“I just think you need to live a little before you're forced to settle down. No offense.” Bob said.
Josef smiled, “None taken.” Josef knew Bob. The man may make the occasional joke but there was nothing malicious about them. It was truly all in good ribbing; much like Josefs occasional quips about Bobs hairline.
‘All available units log on.’ A voice broke over the radio.
Bob looked at Josef, whom flipped a switch on the radio. A red light turned green which served as an indicator that the Ambulance was ready for service again.
‘All units Code 9.’ The voice said. Code 9 was a notification that all non-emergency traffic was to cease. Occasionally ambulances communicated with one another in playful banter. Code 9 ceased it. ‘Code 33 is in effect.’ The voice continued. This reaffirmed Code 9. Code 33 was an order that the only voices were to be those on priority emergency response calls.
Josef picked up the radio, “Dispatch, this is 2-7,” he identified his ambulance unit number, “please repeat.”
‘2-7, this is dispatch. Code 33 is in effect. All available units we have a Code 0.’ Josef looked at Bob. Code 0 was simply an all hands on deck emergency. There was no clarification needed for that one.
‘All units respond to Mayorial District.’
“Oh that clusterkark location.” Bob snorted.
Josef groaned with Bob. Garang was in a current state of near civil unrest. For months the Mayor of Garang had been under investigation for embezzling city funds. The funds were discovered to have been siphoned from the public services sector. That meant the people hit by this were First Responders. City Police, Nurses, Fire Fighters, and Paramedic Response Units. This embezzlement had a severe impact on the city. With funds having gone missing, overtime wasn’t approved for anyone. With many services already understaffed that meant response times to emergency’s was impacted. People weren’t happy. The Mayor needed to go. Yet because they were critically essential employees, it meant First Responders like Josef and Bob were not allowed to strike in protest.
In the place of the city’s Emergency personnel on the picket lines were ordinary civilians. Men, women, unfortunately even children that were brought along, all converged on the Mayorial District. Sit ins, demonstrations, and marches had locked down that portion of the Dantooine Capital for weeks. The Mayor had threatened action; to disburse the large crowds but Police had refused to interfere. The crowds had simply swelled. It was only a matter of time before the powder-keg was set off.
Josef listened as other available Ambulances sounded off, "This is 4-9, in route.", "This is 1-8, in route.", "This is 6-9, in route."
Josef clicked his radio, "This is 2-7, in route." Bob meanwhile turned on a digital map program and began typing in. Once he found a location in the Mayorial District, he clicked go and a route formed. Turning on the ambulance lights but not the siren, Josef pulled away from the hospital. "What is happening that everyone needs to respond?"
Bob shook his head, "In that part of town right now? There's only one reason. No need to guess. It's a riot."