Chapter 24: Back to School

07 September 1991 – Main Street, Enfield, Massachusetts

Jeff unlocked Bilzarian’s front door and flipped the sign from ‘Closed’ to ‘Open.’ The steady rain this Saturday fit his mood. He simply existed during the two weeks since Jenna and Oscar’s wedding. The apartment was cold and empty without Allison, even in the late summer heat. He would have to be cautious not to dive back into a relationship just to fill the hole in the space or his heart.

Paul Ezekiel entered the store and handed Jeff a coffee and bagel from the shop down the street. Jeff made appreciative noises when he accepted the offering. Paul kept his laughter to himself while Jeff inhaled the bagel. The coffee would have disappeared as fast if not for its temperature. Jeff drank hot coffee year-round.

The other summer staff hours were ‘reduced’ to one afternoon per week the week before Labor Day. None of them chose to stay. Paul, who didn’t play sports, was offered twenty hours a week with more hours implied if he wanted them. Since he was over fifteen, his hours-per-week work restriction during school was higher. Paul’s school year started the week Jeff returned home. Jeff was glad that Paul decided to keep working. He hand-picked the youngster to open the store with him on Saturday mornings.

“How’s the EMT class so far?” Paul asked after the usual mini-rush of customers at opening.

“It’s a little different than I expected. It turns out that military medics are allowed to do things civilian EMTs here in the Commonwealth aren’t. I suppose that’s due to the potential for being isolated in military situations. Even if GVMC wasn’t around, there are four or five emergency rooms within a thirty-minute drive of Enfield. Heck, there’s even helicopter evac available to civilians now.”

“Do you like it?”

“I don’t see any reason I won’t. We haven’t gotten into the medicine too much yet; we’ve only had the two classes. The first night was introductory housekeeping stuff, and the second was a medical-legal lecture. I liked the first-aid stuff in the Army, and I liked how it felt to help that family. Another thing the Army taught me about training was that reality doesn’t always equal training.”

“In what way?”

“Well, the Army took the time to set up scenarios for us, and it was very realistic training. Not everybody does that. Things the Army taught us individually started to pile up on us fast during field exercises. Trying to sort things out could get very interesting very quickly. The Army set up the training scenarios to show us how things could go sideways so fast and react to unexpected changes. You learn how to anticipate. I’m a big believer in ‘if you train like you’ll fight, you’ll fight like you train.’”

“‘Their drills are bloodless battles, and their battles bloody drills?’ That kind of thing?”

“Right you are, Josephus. ‘The more you bleed in training, the less you’ll bleed in war.’ You could go on all day like that. Ask me how it’s going around Halloween or so. I’ll be doing some assistant coaching this fall, too.”

“Trying to fill the space?”

“I guess I am,” he replied with a look of loss on his face. “I’m not talking down to you, Paul, but it’s true you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone.”

“Are you going to serenade me with hair-band power ballads today?”

The EMT class began with actual medical training the following week. Jeff strolled into class the week after that and spotted a new friend who lacked hair. Paired together for their initial CPR training, Jeff suffered from the same kind of hair issue.

“Gene the Marine! What up, Jarhead?”

“Hey, Airborne. I prefer ‘Devil Dog,’ you know?”

“Well, Entschuldigen Sie bitte, Herr Teufelhunden. What about ‘Leatherneck?’ ‘Gyrine?’”

“What about I kick your ass?”

“Which Marine Amphibious Unit are you gonna get to help you with that?”

“You think I’ll need a MAU? I’ll do it myself! Pay attention tonight, by the way. You might actually learn something.”

“What? Like how you manage to hang on to that wife of yours? How one of Uncle Sam’s Misguided Children like you manages to keep a woman like that hanging around him is beyond me.”

Gene Chomsky smiled a crooked smile. “It’s beyond me too, Jeff,” he sighed.

Jeff recognized the shift from the playful insults they’d been trading.

“I’m surprised you and Jean didn’t name your little girl something that shortens to ‘Jeanine,’ ‘Ginny,’ ‘Jen,’ or something else along those lines. How old is Elise again?”

“She’s almost four,” the proud papa replied. “It’s weird, while I was still in Force Recon, the best part of my day was helo-casting into the water or gung-ho shit like that. Now, it’s coloring a Snoopy coloring book with Elise.”

“That sounds pretty great, Gene.”

The plates on the universal gym crashed together as Jeff finished up his military press reps. He’d prefer to use free weights for his workouts, but without someone around to spot him, the universal was safer. Thompkins would need to have free weights, too.

He finished his eight-hour workday at Bilzarian’s at two before coming to his alma mater for his workout.

’I guess pre-workout workout would be more accurate,’ Jeff thought. After the upper-body work, he’d lace up his skates for the on-ice leg work. ’Suicides on the ice. I must be nuts.’

“Hey!”

Jeff spun on the stool he sat on. He looked up at the person who yelled at him. A man in his forties scowled at him from the entrance to the weight room.

“How did you get in here?”

“I opened the door?”

“And just what the hell do you think you’re doing in here?”

“Finishing my chest and arms workout.”

“What gives you the right to use my weight room?”

Jeff looked around. “‘Your weight room?’ Funny, I don’t see a plaque with your name anywhere, not that I care what your name is at this point. The only plaque I saw is the one outside the door that reads ‘Gift of the Class of 1966.’”

“Don’t get smart with me, you little punk.”

“‘Little?’ I haven’t been working out this hard for eight years to be a ‘little’ punk still. I better start working out even harder.”

“I’m calling the cops!”

“Okay, ask them to send Jack Dwadczik when you talk to them. I haven’t seen Jack in a while. And give my compliments to Chief Brewer if you would? Thanks.”

The man turned a shade of red that almost went with the school colors of black, yellow, and white he wore. He took a step towards Jeff before the door opened behind him.

“I thought you’d be on the ice by now, Jeff,” John Kessler said when he entered.

“Working on it, John,” he answered without taking his eyes off the other man.

“Well, here’s your staff ID. I’m going to grab my skates, and I’ll join you out at the rink. It’ll be easier to go over the defensive plays on the ice anyway.”

“This punk is on staff?” the other man asked, incredulous.

“‘Punk?’ This gentleman is an alum, Jay – Jeff Knox, Class of 1987. He’s one of my former players, a US Army veteran of Panama and the Gulf War, and my assistant coach for this coming season. Oh, he’s also Marisa Knox’s son and very well remembered here. I suggest you tread lightly.”

The man turned red again, spun on his heel, and left the room. John turned back to Jeff and raised an eyebrow.

“Didn’t take you long.”

“Hey, I don’t know what his problem is. I’m a lover, not a fighter.”

“That’s Jay Wanamaker, the new soccer coach. He’s his problem. And since when do lovers receive the Silver Star?”

“So, you’re saying I won’t be working with the soccer team then?”

“Over his dead body.”

“Don’t tempt me like that, John.”

“Hey, Jeff, you’re drawing someone’s eye.”

“What are you talking about, Marine?”

“Your seven o’clock. You’ve got someone checking you out.”

Jeff and Gene stood in GVMC’s ER, working through their state-mandated EMT class observation hours. Gene stepped past Jeff in the direction he indicated and then turned back to Jeff as if he had forgotten something.

“Can you see her behind me now? Brunette, maybe about five-eight or so?”

“The one with the oversized ‘Frankie says RELAX’ t-shirt?”

“That’s her. Very 1983. Gotta go!”

“Damn Jarhead,” Jeff muttered to himself while Gene stepped away toward the lobby bathroom.

Gene shot him a smirk. Jeff scratched his nose with his middle finger. Gene’s laughter cut off when the bathroom door closed.

“Excuse me? Doctor?” the brunette asked.

Jeff fought not to roll his eyes. He wasn’t wearing a lab coat, which seemed to be part of a doctor’s uniform even in the ER. He wore an adhesive name tag that read ‘JEFF – EMT OBSERVER.’ Not that he had any pick-up lines, but that one was pretty lame.

“I’m not a doctor, Miss, but may I help you?”

“I’m Trina. Do you know how much longer the wait will be?”

“I’m sorry, Miss, but I don’t work here. I’m only an observer from a local EMT class. You’ll have to ask one of the staff for that information.”

“Oh. How about your phone number, then?”

“My phone number?”

The woman nodded. She also flashed him a coy smile. He tried to figure out how to get out of the situation when Divine Providence smiled upon him.

“Jeff! Trauma coming in!” called Jean from behind the front desk. Jean was the nurse he was shadowing for the evening.

“Sorry, Miss., I have to go,” he explained before turning for the door to the treatment area.

He emerged in the back hallway and stepped over to the PPE. Gowns, face masks, and latex gloves sat piled high on a cart. Jeff pulled gloves from one of the boxes.

“Whoa, there hero, slow down!” Jean said.

“What about the trauma?”

“The only ‘trauma’ was going to be to her ego when you turned down her request. Don’t ever play poker, by the way. She’s here for abdominal cramping with minor vaginal bleeding.”

Jeff processed that information. “Wait, she’s here for her period?”

“Got it in one! Trina’s a semi-regular. You stay back here, and I’ll ask Doc Freeman to talk to her out front in one of the minor treatment rooms. There is an older gentleman with chest pain along that wall. See if Dawn needs a hand. I’ve already told her I’d send you over to help out.”

Jeff woke with a snort. A glance at his alarm clock told him it was two-thirty in the morning.

’Why am I awake?’ he wondered.

It was then that Jeff heard laughter. The laughter sounded like it was coming from the back deck. He slipped out of bed. Jeff. He saw four people on the deck when he peeked out the kitchen window. They had what looked like beer bottles in their hands.

Jeff ducked back into the bedroom and dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and his sneakers without turning on a light. Using a penlight in a closed closet to see, he spun the combination lock of the gun safe there. The safe was an unexpected find when cleaning the apartment. Steve Bilzarian gave that combo to Jeff after emptying the safe. Jeff bought Mr. Bilzarian’s .45 and Remington pump shotgun from Steve and placed those weapons back in the safe. He now extracted them again. Jeff grabbed the cordless phone before he left the bedroom.