Calm to Chaos

by Garth Wade

  She grabbed his face and kissed him hard, jerking his cock.

  ‘Come,’ she said in the most demanding tone she’d ever used. Then she dropped to her knees, never missing a stroke, and licked the length of his shaft before closing her lips around his cock. It’s not that he was huge; it was just that she was never able to deep throat. Sydney stood looking down on her beautiful red ponytail bouncing back and forth while she increased her grip.

  He could feel her tongue curl around the underside of his cock, moving like they were made for each other.

  He was close.

  She could sense it as he grew that last bit.

  She took his cock out of her mouth, jerking it hard and sliding up and down the full wet length, her fingers pushed up behind his balls.

  She looked up at him. ‘Come, Sydney.’

  The tingling started in his feet then moved up his legs to his groin, then exploded into her mouth, while she pulled faster and faster. The sensation continued up his spine, standing all his hair on end, and up to his head; it was an addictive high.

  He tried to muffle his cry, but it was still audible outside the room, after which he settled.

  ‘Is that what you wanted to talk about? Amber, you are a stick of dynamite,’ Syd said lovingly, trying to control his shuddering.

  Amber stood up, looked him in the eyes, and swallowed purposefully.

  ‘You’re the stick of dynamite,’ she replied in a cheeky, girlish tone, ‘but we really should get out of here in case someone heard you explode.’

  Parenting paradox

  One year earlier – Riley

  Riley lay on her bed reading.

  ‘Riley, quick, get in the car please, we are leaving now.’ Karen’s volume was ratcheting up as she hammered on Riley’s bedroom door.

  The girl moved across the room to her door and opened it quickly, as though trying to surprise her mother. She had moved on though, and Riley heard the clinking of cutlery and dishes. She strolled unhurriedly further down the hallway.

  Karen was bending over the dishwasher, transferring clean dishes to a cupboard in a robotic movement.

  ‘What are you doing, Mum?’ Riley asked.

  ‘Quickly, Riley, we’re leaving as of five minutes ago.’

  ‘Where are we going?’ Riley asked coolly.

  ‘You know where. To the airport to pick up your father.’

  There were no more dishes to be unpacked but Karen continued to tidy as though possessed.

  ‘Oh, do I really need to come with you?’

  ‘Of course, Riley. You haven’t seen your father in over two weeks. Think about how happy he’ll be to see you.’

  ‘Yeah, he’ll see me when he gets home too, you know,’ said Riley, ‘I’m in my pyjamas Mum. And it’s nine-thirty. There’s no way I’m leaving this house tonight. No way.’ Riley leaned against the door jamb and crossed her arms.

  ‘Please Riley, don’t upset me, I asked nicely. Now please go and get in the car.’

  ‘Why would you leave it till the last minute to tell me about this? Seriously.’

  ‘I told you about it this morning Riley,’ Karen said pleasantly.

  ‘I haven’t seen you since last night, Mum. What are you talking about?’ Riley began to raise her voice.

  Karen wiped down the sink, which was already spotless, and turned to Riley, who still stood with her arms crossed. Karen took two bounding steps towards her and yelled, ‘Your father would really like to see you, Riley. At the fucking airport! Now get in the fucking car!’ She brandished the dishcloth in Riley’s face as though it was a weapon.

  As usual, Karen’s driving was anything but safe as she headed for the airport to collect her husband Jerry. Neither mother nor daughter noticed the silence between them as Riley gripped her seat and Karen halved the time it would normally take to drive that distance. She drove erratically and dangerously, and Riley, yet to hold even a learner’s permit, silently questioned how her mother ever got her licence.

  Riley dared not speak but wondered if her mother was doing this speed racer challenge for any particular reason. Maybe she only remembered her husband at the last minute, but was that likely three times in three months? Surely not.

  Their timing couldn’t have been any more perfect; Karen pulled up just as Jerry walked into the airport pickup bay. She popped the boot and hurried to meet him with wide arms and a huge smile. ‘Darling! How was your flight?’

  Jerry carefully placed the suitcase in the boot and closed the lid. Karen hugged him tightly, almost desperately, but he spun out of the embrace without a word.

  ‘Is everything okay, darling?’ Karen asked as Riley jumped out of the front passenger seat and opened the back door.

  Jerry’s eyes lit up. ‘Riley! Honey! How was school?’ He turned his back to Karen and hugged Riley.

  Karen seemed to shrink as her shoulders slumped.

  ‘Hey Dad,’ said Riley, ‘I’m, like, in my pyjamas you know. Let me hide!’

  Bradley

  22:40 hrs – Bravo 989

  The Mercedes Sprinter drove through the slowly diminishing traffic, returning to the station once again.

  ‘So are you all right about tonight so far, son?’ Cameron said as he drove.

  ‘Yeah … it’s really only been the stabbing that’s been hectic,’ Syd replied. ‘Did you see a lot of stabbings when you were in Glasgow?’

  ‘Aye … trauma was a pretty regular thing we had to manage.’ Cam paused as he slowed for a red light. ‘And I remember when I was new to it. It stressed me out a fair bit at the start. I was young, freshly married, and Claire was pregnant. It was a different world for me. And work consisted of trying to keep these bealin’ crazy patients alive after they had stabbed or shot each other or just—’

  ‘What’s bealin’?’ Syd interrupted.

  ‘Ah. Sorry son. Bealin’ means fookin’ angry. Crazy angry.’

  Syd watched Cam as he revved and drove again.

  ‘We didn’t really talk about our feelings in those days neither,’ he continued. ‘We’d see all this bad shite happen and be right in the middle of it and management wouldn’t care, we were always expected to keep a stiff upper lip. The attitude was, if we couldn’t handle it, we could get out of it.’ Cam took a deep breath. ‘And then management finally clicked onto the paramedics’ suicide rate being abnormally high, and thought, well, this statistic doesn’t look very good on our spreadsheet does it?’ Cam used a dopey voice.

  ‘Ah huh,’ Syd said, letting Cam know that he was still there, listening.

  The dopey voice continued. ‘So, we might see if we can get some other strategy to keep these paramedics from going nuts.’

  ‘And that’s when they hired counsellors or something?’

  ‘Aye, son, something like that. It was only really coming into effect when I left Scotland and it was in full swing here already. I’d been in the job for ten years by that stage.’

  ‘And probably would’ve seen pretty much everything,’ said Syd, ‘and dealt with it too.’

  ‘Yeah. I suppose. Ah, not really though son. You’ve never seen everything. Don’t think that you have; it’ll make you complacent. But the bad shite I did see, I wasn’t by myself. This is what I’m sayin’ to you son. I was lucky ’cause Claire knew me well and made me talk to her.’ He looked over at Syd with a quick deep stare, ‘and I think that’s what kept me sane.’

  Syd nodded, sensing Cam was maybe feeling emotional.

  ‘Anyway, son, whatever happened to me has happened. You, on the other hand, need to look after yourself and know what to look out for.’

  Syd feigned a smile.

  ‘I’m serious son. Don’t fook around with this. It’ll come back to bite you.’

  ‘So, if I feel stressed out, or upset about a job, I go and talk to someone, right?’

  The radio interrupted abruptly, ‘Bravo 989?’

  ‘That’s exactly right,’ Cam said as Syd reached for the handpiece. Cam raised his hand signalling
for Syd to wait. ‘And don’t be scared to talk to me either, son.’ Syd nodded and reached again, then realized Cam was looking for a stronger reassurance.

  ‘I won’t Cam. Thank you,’ Syd said, looking straight at Cam, then turned his attention to the volume dial and increased it slightly.

  ‘Bravo 989,’ he said.

  ‘Bravo 989 what’s you location?’

  ‘Bravo 989 we are currently, ah …?’ Syd, still thinking about their conversation, forgot to release the UHF microphone button. ‘Where the fuck are—’

  ‘On Old Cleveland Road, just coming into Carina,’ Cameron cut in. Syd hastily repeated the information, feeling inept because the whole service had just heard him swear on the radio.

  ‘Bravo 989, you are the closest and primary unit to an urgent call from QFRS who are on scene at 173 Randwick Road, Carina. They have a male patient, unconscious, breathing, who was found on location. Reported to have severe facial burns and breathing difficulty. The location is fully ablaze but the patient is now clear of the fire,’ said the droning female voice.

  ‘On case,’ Syd said as he finished tapping the address into the GPS. ‘GPS says we’re three minutes away, comms.’

  Cameron flicked the switches for bright lights and sirens, and sped off.

  ‘I haven’t done airway burns yet Cam,’ Syd said nervously as Cam slid the ambulance around a clear corner.

  ‘Again, mate, hopefully ICPs will be there to intubate if need be. Otherwise, it’s just what?’ Cam asked, testing Syd.

  ‘Thorough primary assessment, airway management, and later pain management. Lots of oxygen if carbon monoxide intake. Active cooling twenty minutes if burns.’

  ‘They say to estimate burnt surface area too,’ said Cam.

  The predicted three minutes was in fact one due to Cam’s careful but speedy driving.

  The scene was tight, space was at a premium, and Cam nearly nudged a second fire truck as it entered at the same time. The ambulance parked right next to the patient, who lay on the dirty lawn of the house next door. The fire fighters continued to spray powerful jets of water at the house, which was fully ablaze.

  ‘Grab the oxygen and the airways,’ Cam instructed as he took a pair of trauma shears from the dash, climbed out and walked the short distance to the patient. Syd did as instructed and went to Cam, who had already cut the patient’s tracksuit top off and was feeling for a carotid pulse.

  ‘Put the O2 on, I can’t really see shite out here. Grab the stretcher and scoop and we’ll work in the truck. He’s got a good pulse and is breathing shallow.’

  Again Sydney followed instructions and connected a plastic mask to the small oxygen cylinder, turned it onto maximum and gently put the mask on the patient’s face, as he noted the glistening burns.

  As he turned to retrieve the stretcher, he heard Cam say loudly, ‘Can you hear me sir? Open your eyes!’ Syd felt a millisecond of amusement mixed with adrenaline as he noted Cameron’s accent had grown thicker through urgency and concern.

  Sydney promptly returned to the patient with the stretcher, then split the scoop in two and placed one half next to the patient, whose eyes had begun to flutter.

  Cameron grabbed the other half and clacked them together, forming a hard, handled board beneath the patient. Cameron asked a nearby fire fighter, who seemed to not be fighting fire at the time, to help lift the scooped patient onto the stretcher and into the ambulance. The burly fireman was more than happy to help.

  Cameron jumped into the ambulance and dropped into the rear-facing seat, used to supervise a patient’s airway, as Sonia the ICP arrived. She poked her head in and asked with her characteristic positive energy, ‘So what have we got guys?’

  ‘Hey Sonia, we’ve got a male of unknown age, facial burns, not sure about the airway yet, it was difficult to see, but breathing shallow at 30, pulse around 130, bounding, haven’t checked anything else yet,’ said Cam.

  ‘Great, Cameron. I might just sit there in case I have to tube him.’ Sonia spoke with purpose but without arrogance. She swapped Cam in the airway seat and turned to Syd, who stood between the open rear doors of the ambulance, ‘Do you mind asking around to make sure there’s no other patients please Sydney? Also find out if the firies are going in with breathing apparatus. We’ll need another crew out here if they are.’

  Syd nodded and went to find the answers from a senior fire fighter. He found himself moving briskly but calmly, completely focused. It felt good. He spoke clearly and listened closely.

  The building had been checked and cleared for other patients, and the fire fighters had used breathing apparatuses.

  Soon Syd had returned to the back of the ambulance and reported to Sonia, Cameron, and the now near-naked patient.

  Sonia listened and said, ‘Can you tell comms to send another—’

  ‘I’ve already phoned CDS for one. They’ll be about six minutes,’ Syd interrupted, pleased to know that another ambulance would be needed, and that he had organised it.

  ‘Great, Sydney,’ Sonia smiled, ‘so, we’ve tubed our patient and given Midazolam and Morphine to keep him settled. He is breathing on his own but due to the facial burns there may be some airway compromise so we’re just staying on the safe side.’ Sonia spoke as though she was checking off a list in her mind, rather than looking for confirmation from Cam or Syd. With Cam’s assistance, she had put a tube down the patient’s throat and into the trachea, to secure the airway, in case the patient had breathed in fire, causing his airway to swell.

  ‘The whole face, frontal scalp and left temporal have superficial dermal burns, he’s on 15 litres O2, spO2 reading 100 per cent, resp rate at 24, tachycardic at 120, everything else is A-OK-ish. He has those strange long, wide lumps on the stomach and chest, but I don’t think they are too much to worry about yet. Let’s get a move on Sydney, code one to the PA. Have you done much code one driving?’

  ‘A couple of times with the crew in the back,’ said Syd.

  ‘Without wanting to be patronising, Sydney, just think of us as goldfish back here – if you drive crazily we’ll spill out of our bowl, okay?’ She smiled again, a striking, genuine smile. Syd felt a shiver, smiled back, nodded and shut the door.

  Aside from Sonia’s phone call to the ED, so they could prepare for the patient, the ten-minute drive was uneventful. Sonia and Cameron worked efficiently together, and Sydney’s driving was so careful, he thought he must have had one eye on the road and one on the rear-view mirror the entire time, being sure not to tip the bowl too much.

  My girlfriend

  23:05 hrs – Princess Alexandra Hospital Emergency Department

  Sonia took care of the hospital handover, relaying the relevant information she found in Bradley’s wallet to police, who had followed the ambulance to hospital.

  Doctor Das smiled at Sonia and Syd as his team went to work on the unconscious Bradley, prodding, poking, testing.

  The buzz of the ED felt good to Syd. He liked how everyone knew their role and how to communicate all necessary information. He was impressed every time. He rolled the empty stretcher out of the ED and faced the ward beds. His eyes stung slightly, a common feeling during night shift, although it didn’t usually take hold until early morning. He blinked as he looked at cubicle ten, Sebastian’s.

  He blinked again - this time in disbelief - as Amber hurried out through the curtain. Suddenly sickness stirred in his stomach and he felt a deep ache in his chest. He began to breathe quickly as he thought about Amber’s recent behaviour.

  Life is too short.

  She breezed away from him, ponytail bouncing. His mind was filled with jealousy, love and trust, all awash with intense confusion. He felt dizzy but he had to ask her what was going on.

  He steamed up to Sebastian’s cubicle as Amber disappeared into the consultants room about fifteen metres away. He glanced inside and saw Sebastian as before, sitting up, awake and alert.

  ‘Hey! Sydney! Mate! You still here?’

  ‘Hey Seba
stian,’ Syd said mournfully. ‘Hey that nurse who just walked out of here, is she taking good care of you?’

  And without a moment’s hesitation, Sebastian replied, ‘Ah, she sure is Sydney mate! That is my girlfriend, the one I was telling you about, remember?’ Sebastian smiled innocently.

  ‘Oh, fuck.’

  Life is too short.

  ‘I did not even know she was working at this hospital lately, she is an agency nurse and can …’ Sebastian continued.

  The sickness grew in Syd’s stomach; he could feel it rising up. His face felt red and hot. He was angry; he was sad; he wanted to release a flood of tears and simultaneously punch Sebastian’s face till it bled. He moved behind the curtain.

  ‘Hey, Sydney? Mate?’ Sebastian said gently.

  Syd breathed in deeply, trying to calm himself. He clutched at the curtain, then, aware of the nearby medical professionals, some of whom he knew, tried to regain his composure. He looked at the consultants room. He had to know. He had to ask her. He had to confront her. His girlfriend? Whose girlfriend? What the fuck?

  Just the thought of the words made his anger boil up. He wanted to yell. He wanted to hit something. He wanted to unleash all the crazy confusion that now filled his stupid trusting head. He stormed the fifteen paces to the consultants’ room, struggling to appear calm, knowing that some of the staff would notice for sure.

  Where could he confront her? Right here? At work? In front of everyone?

  No. He would contain his feelings and see if Amber would talk somewhere private.

  As Syd raised his knuckles to knock on the door, it was pulled open and three doctors moved swiftly past him. He entered the room and saw Amber and two other uniformed nurses chatting. Amber noticed Sydney immediately and registered his body language. She sent him a look of big-eyed innocence, and then got up to walk to him.