Party Crasher

The phone rang in the emergency room late one afternoon shift. When I answered it, “Emergency room, may I help you.” I couldn’t hear anything at first. Suddenly, I heard the sound of breaking of something and the tinkling of the broken glass falling. A muffled male voice called out, “No! No!! Don’t…!” and then more sounds of breaking glass. “No, no, Freddie! No!”

Because the call came without any forewarning, my mind couldn’t grasp what in the world was going on. I was caught off guard and flat footed. I didn’t know what to make of the caller. I motioned for Bill who was sitting close by me. I whispered, “Listen to this. What do you think is going on?” I turned the telephone receiver on the side so that Bill could hear the conversation as well.

After a few seconds, Bill said, “I think it’s Zippy. Freddie is drunk again and is at Zippy’s house breaking out his windows again.” While I kept trying to talk to the voice on the other end of the call, Bill called the police and asked them to check on Zippy, explaining what he thought was happening there.

Awhile later, we got a call from an ambulance crew saying they were bringing a male patient with lacerations to both of his hands.

The ambulance crew smirked as they came into the emergency department. They had brought Freddie in quite often and thought they had one up on us. One of the crew said, “Guess who we have here?”

Before they finished, I said, “It’s Freddie. You picked him up at Zippy’s. He was drunk again and was breaking out Zippy’s windows.” The crew looked surprised.

I said, “We were the ones who sent the police to check on Zippy and then you got called out to take care of Freddie. We knew he would be in”

Freddie’s injuries were minor and after a few stitches, he was bandaged and sent home. Zippy didn’t press charged. He never did. After all, it was his brother.