Daft o’ clock in the morning and our truck slows down in the drizzling rain. The puddles all around us and the curtained windows of the houses nearby dance to a blue spangly, spingly reflection from our strobes. Its dark, its misty and its wet. Hopefully our “patient” will have gone home already. Looking back at the job on our dashboard mounted data terminal, we check that we are in the right location. We are…but our “patient” doesn’t appear to be!
The call came from a female (third part caller who rarely stay on scene…or give an accurate location) who has said that her boyfriend has an eye injury. Scoping the immediate area we cannot see anybody let alone someone with an eye injury. Suddenly a movement in the corner of my eye alerts me to the possibility of life. Is it human or is it another urban fox of which we have seen four tonight alone!
To our right all we can barely see are buildings shrouded in mist. The orange, energy saving sodium streetlights struggle to penetrate the layers of mist which are rolling in from the nearby river. I,ve read James Herberts “The Fog” and seen the film, so there is no way I,m getting out to search in the darkness! I decide to stay in the cab and man the radio while my crew mate weighs up the idea of doing a quick area search.
Then, just as we were about to contact control for a location check, from the centre of the mist about two hundred metres to our right a movement is noted. Its not clear, everything has that hazy, ethereal look about it. But there definately is movement. And then like something out of a 1970s “Hammer Horror” film a shape emerges. Ever so slowly the mist swirls around the edges of the shape coming towards us. Eventually the shape becomes a figure, which becomes human, which then becomes a woman.
I let go of my crew mate, and he lets go of me, composing ourselves we sit upright in the cab puffing our chests out instinctively. The shape, the figure, the human, the woman sidles up to my side of the truck and I wind the window down. Looking down at her I notice that she is wearing a wide belt (very short dress) which is of a tiger stripe pattern. She has earrings fashioned out of bones and a necklace to match! She also has a large pair of womanly distractions which are trying to escape from the top of her dress!
I speak first, “Erm hello!” She replies “Alright. Are you the Ambulance?”
“No. I,m the Paramedic as is my colleague but this truck that we are both sitting in is the Ambulance!” I surprise myself that I am so witty as this time in the morning. I then feel that I have made a bad first impression as she does not smile at my witty reply. There follows a pause of marathon proportions as we wait for the tumbleweed to blow across our front.
“Who have we come for?” I ask politely just in case this woman really is a cannibal. With her slender arm she points back towards the mist from where she has appeared. “Its my boyfriend, he’s cut his face on the floor after I fell off him!” This is not going to be a normal job I feel it in my bones…then remember she has lots of bones too!
Our question and answer session is interrupted by a guttural sound emanating from the mist beyond. A grunting noise and scuffling sound can be clearly heard. All of a sudden a group of figures lurch out from the mist. In the centre of the group is a tall male who is being supported by smaller males either side of him. Its only when they get nearer to us that we see what we are dealing with properly.
One tall male, centre, wearing nothing but a pair of flip flops and a loin cloth! With a cut to his left cheek (face). Four smaller males, two either side of tall male, wearing furry feet, caveman costumes and big hair and all sporting plastic clubs! “What the f…!” My crew mate exclaims under his breath. We debus and have a quick shufty at our patient. His cut is not too deep but it needs cleaning and a couple of stitches.
“Come on then, We’ll pop you down to A/E and get you sorted. Is your girlfriend coming too?” I ask. With that all hell breaks loose as the cavemen want to come to hospital also. We bundle Tarzan and Jane into the truck and with scenes reminiscent of Roarke’s Drift in “Zulu” we drive away from the scene with the cavemen batting the side of our vehicle with their puny plastic clubs. We manage to lose them at the next junction.
Inside the truck Tarzan is most apologetic for us being called out. His girlfriend is sat next to him shivering as her dress appears to be getting shorter as the seconds go by! I give them both one of our NHS Ambulance blankets, white, thin, holey for the use of. “You are going to make the nurses and doctors night in A/E” I tell them both.
And that they both did as they sat in the minor side whilst I booked Tarzan in. All the males in the department checked out Jane whilst all (and I mean all) the females checked out Tarzan! Booked in we waved goodbye to our jungle friends leaving them sat in the middle of a department full of people sporting various cuts, bumps, bruises and wearing blood soaked, vomit stained attire!
A strange end to a strange night shift. But they were a nice couple and the cavemen were a laugh!
Any captions for the pic above?