A flash… A loud bang… Darkness… Darkness…
Finally, the darkness started to lift. I heard a voice:
“Emily, this is the rescuer, something exploded over there.”
Through the pain, I felt a hand touch my neck. I tried to open my eyelids. It was difficult. Before my eyes was a rectangular pendant with zodiac signs engraved on it… The eyes of the woman in a white coat…
“To the operating room!” came the voice right nearby.
My parents returned from work. Mum rushed straight to the kitchen, peeking into the room where I was doing my homework. Dad, entering the room, immediately noticed that my mood was not the best.
“James, what happened?” Dad ruffled my hair.
“Nothing,” I muttered, a fourth-grader.
“Come on, out with it!”
“Valentine’s Day is coming up soon. The teacher kept us after school today and said we need to prepare gifts for the girls.”
“Well, what’s the problem?” Dad smiled.
“There are the same number of boys and girls. And she assigned who gives to whom,” I sighed heavily. “I got the ugly one, Emily Parker.”
“All girls want a gift on Valentine’s Day, even the ones who aren’t pretty,” Dad tried to speak to me as an adult. “And how did she assign them? By the alphabet?”
“No, by zodiac signs?”
“How does that work?” Dad couldn’t help smiling again.
“By compatibility. Emily is a Virgo, and Virgos match best with Taurus. And I’m a Taurus, as it turns out.”
“That’s good if you match! When you grow up, you might even fall in love with her.”
Dad couldn’t hold it in and laughed. Mum immediately ran into the room:
“What’s going on here?”
“Sarah, go to the kitchen,” Dad’s face turned stern. “We have a serious talk with our son.”
When Mum left, I asked in a sad voice:
“Dad, what do I do now?”
“Prepare a gift!”
“What kind?”
“Tomorrow at work, I’ll make one for your chosen girl.”
“Dad, what kind of gift can you make? You work at the factory.”
“Yes! But I work in the electroplating section. We do all sorts of metal coatings there.”
“Dad, I don’t get it.”
“You’ll see tomorrow!”
***
The next day, Dad brought a pendant on a chain in the shape of a rectangle that looked golden. On one side were engraved two zodiac signs, Taurus and Virgo, and on the other, in small but beautiful letters:
“To my classmate Emily for Valentine’s Day! James.”
Oh, how beautifully this pendant looked! And when Mum wrapped it in a cellophane bag, it looked even more amazing.
***
And so, the day before Valentine’s Day. The teacher wasn’t planning to teach lessons. First, the pupils gave her a gift. She thanked them for a long time. Then she announced that the boys should give their gifts to the girls.
What a commotion started! All the boys dashed to their “chosen ones”. I also went up to Emily Parker and said, as Dad had taught me:
“Emily, congratulations on Valentine’s Day! Perhaps one day fate will bring Taurus and Virgo together.”
After saying the rehearsed phrase, I headed back to my seat and, of course, didn’t notice how this girl’s heart, who I thought was ugly, started pounding.
Soon, Emily’s parents moved to another neighborhood, and from fifth grade, Emily started attending a different school.
***
I opened my eyes. The white ceiling of the hospital ward. I tried to move my arms and legs. Only my left arm moved.
“Where am I?” I asked, not sure who to.
There was a clatter, and a patient on crutches came up to my bed, looked at me intently, and asked:
“Back with us? You’re in the emergency surgery ward.”
“Are my arms and legs all okay?” I asked quietly.
“Looks like everything’s still attached,” he shared the good news. “But you’re bandaged from head to toe.”
“That’s good, as long as everything’s intact.”
Then a nurse approached and asked kindly:
“How are you feeling?”
“What’s wrong with me?” I replied with a question.
“Your life isn’t in danger. Your arms and legs will work fine. But you’ll have quite a few scars,” she handed me the phone, which was turned on. “Your mum wanted you to call her when you woke up.”
“Sonny,” came Mum’s voice through tears.
“Mum, everything’s alright,” I tried to sound as upbeat as I could. “They said only a few small scars will remain. I’ll be discharged soon.”
“They wouldn’t let me stay with you overnight. Sonny, I’ll come right now.”
“Mum, don’t worry too much!”
I set the phone down beside me and tried to smile at the nurse:
“Thanks!”
“Well, they won’t be letting you out anytime soon,” the nurse smiled back. “You’ll be here for three weeks, for sure!”
“What happened to you?” asked my ward neighbor once the nurse had gone.
“I’m a rescuer. Oxygen cylinders started exploding at the plant,” I began to remember. “They called us in. We got there before the fire brigade. The place is massive, with three casualties inside. We went in, cylinders everywhere, some fire spots. We started carrying out the injured… I was the last one out… Just as I was by the door, another cylinder blew up… I don’t remember anything after that.”
“Yeah, you really took a hit.”
“James Thompson,” the nurse’s voice called. “A work colleague is here for you.”
“Hey, James! How are you doing?”
“Arms and legs are fine!” I replied optimistically. “But I can only greet you with my left hand for now!”
“Don’t be like that!”
“What happened after?”
“We were already on our way out when it exploded. We rushed straight back in and pulled you out… you were covered in blood… the doctors were already there…”
“Thank you!”
“James, what are you on about?!” A smile suddenly appeared on my friend’s face. “They might even give us medals for this.”
“I’ll be out by then.”
“Alright, I’m off. The nurse said rounds are coming soon, so keep it short.”
My friend hadn’t left yet when the doctor, a man in his forties, came in:
“Well, how are we doing, hero?” He walked over to my bed.
“Alright.”
“If you’re talking, you’ll live. Let’s have a look at you!”
“Did you do the stitching?” I asked.
“No, Emily Harrison did. She’ll be in the day after tomorrow.”
***
Two days went by. I was already attempting to stand. The pain in my legs was still bad, and my right arm was lacerated. There were at least ten wounds across my body. Two on my face from when I hit the gate during the explosion; luckily, I got my right hand up in time. I checked myself in the mirror. My face was still puffy.
Today, the doctor who had spent five hours stitching me up in the operating theatre was due to do the rounds. I was even a bit nervous.
Then she walked in. Young and slim, wearing glasses, but they didn’t detract from her looks at all, and the white coat really suited her. At twenty-seven, I had already been married, but we split after six months we just didn’t get along, as the paperwork said, though really my ex-wife wasn’t keen on a rescuer’s pay.
“Hello!” the doctor said, heading towards my bed.
“Hello! Was it you who stitched me up?”
“Yes,” she smiled. “Is there something wrong?”
“Let me examine you.”
She leaned over me… Before my eyes was the pendant with zodiac signs dangling from her neck:
“Emily Parker!!!” I exclaimed.
She looked closely at my swollen face.
“I’m sorry!” she said, still not recognizing me.
“I’m a Taurus,” I said, pointing to the pendant.
“James Thompson?” Her lips quivered. “You remember me?”
“Of course, Emily,” seeing tears in her eyes, I placed my hand on hers.
“I’m sorry!” She pulled out a tissue and dabbed her eyes. “I never imagined we’d meet again like this.”
She didn’t come back to my ward that day. But I had figured out her shift pattern, similar to what mine used to be: a day shift, a night shift, and two days off.
I didn’t want to appear helpless in front of her. The whole next day, I practiced walking around the ward using the beds for support, and a couple of times I even ventured into the corridor, holding onto the wall.
Evening came. The daytime doctor left, and the new shift arrived you could tell from the chatter in the hallway. Rounds were about to start…
Suddenly, there were shouts and hurried footsteps in the corridor. That usually means another casualty has arrived.
It was past ten. The nurse came in and switched off the light in the ward. But sleep wouldn’t come. After midnight, footsteps echoed in the corridor, then they stopped, and in the quiet, I sensed rather than heard someone crying out there. I got up and quietly stepped into the corridor.
Sitting at the nurses’ station, with her head in her hands, was my old classmate, crying. I went over and put my good hand on her shoulder:
“What’s the matter, Emily?”
She stood up and buried her face in my shoulder:
“I operated on a woman who was hit by a car,” she started, her words muffled by tears. “I did everything I could and more… She’s in intensive care now, but she won’t make it. She has two children… her husband is with her in the room…”
“Calm down, Emily!”
“I’ve been a surgeon for three years, and I still can’t get used to people dying.”
“Calm down, calm down! That’s the nature of our jobs. In five years, I’ve seen plenty of deaths too, but we’ve saved a lot of lives as well,” I sighed. “That’s why my wife left me. She said I come home not quite myself and don’t earn enough. But I always bring home forty quid enough to live on.”
“It’s the same for me,” she looked up at my face. “Guys see me as some sort of oddball. I’ve never been married, and I still live with my parents like a kid.”
“Oh, come on, we’re only twenty-seven we’ve got our whole lives ahead.”
“No, James, we’re already twenty-seven.”
“Emily Harrison, her pulse is fading,” yelled the nurse who rushed out.
“Sorry!” and Emily dashed off to intensive care.
I couldn’t sleep at all that night. In the morning, the nurse came as usual and gave me an injection.
“Is the woman who had the operation last night still alive?” I asked, surprising even myself.
“She’s alive, but her condition is very serious.”
***
Three weeks passed. The wounds on my body had healed. We saw each other during her shifts, and I found myself drawn to her more and more. But the emergency surgery department wasn’t the right place for deep personal conversations.
Then, during one morning round, the male doctor announced:
“I’m discharging you today,” he smiled and added, “from the hospital, that is. Head straight to your local clinic, and they’ll decide how much longer you need to be off work.”
“Time to pack up?”
“Yes, yes! No need to hurry. They’ll prepare your discharge papers now.”
When the doctor left, I shaved. Looking in the mirror, I noted with satisfaction that the two remaining scars didn’t ruin my face; if anything, they added a bit of rugged charm. The other scars weren’t worth worrying about.
I got my things together and stepped out into the corridor. Coming towards me, holding onto the wall, was a patient.
“She pulled through after all!” The happy thought crossed my mind.
The nurse came out and handed me my discharge papers:
“Goodbye, James! Try not to end up back here!”
***
I had my own one-bedroom flat, but I headed to my parents’ place instead. Mum had been so worried and was waiting for me. She had even taken some time off work.
“Son!” Mum threw her arms around me.
“It’s okay, Mum! See, I’m alive and kicking.”
“Come on, I’ve got some food ready for you. You’ve lost so much weight.”
“Oh, I’ve missed proper home-cooked meals!”
“Until you’re better and married, you’ll stay in your old home. Your room’s still waiting for you,” she called out like I was a child. “Go and wash your hands!”
***
By the evening, I popped into the barber’s. Then I went to my flat and picked up some clothes. Mum set about pressing them right away.
In the evening, Dad came home from work. We sat down together, just like old times, and chatted until late into the night.
I went to bed in my old room, where I’d spent my childhood and teenage years, but I couldn’t sleep straight away:
“Tomorrow I need to visit the clinic. Then head to work. And in the evening…”
With thoughts of the following evening, I finally drifted off… well after midnight.
***
The next day, I went to the clinic first thing in the morning. I spent the morning going from one department to another. After lunch, I dropped by work, just as my shift was starting.
“Where are you off to?” Dad asked.
“Dad, remember way back when I was in fourth grade? You made that pendant as a gift for my classmate?”
“The ugly Emily Parker? I remember.”
“Remember how you said, ‘When you grow up, you might fall in love with her’?”
“I remember that too.”
“Dad, Emily’s a surgeon now. She was the one who operated on me. And she’s still wearing that pendant around her neck.”
“Well, I’ll be!”
“Dad, your words came true. I’m going to see her!”
Twenty-seven years isn’t so much to start a life with someone you love. Looking back on it all, I’ve learned that the past has a way of catching up with you, and that the connections we make, even as children, can shape our futures in surprising ways.A flash… A loud bang… Darkness… Darkness…
Finally, the darkness started to lift. I heard a voice:
“Emily, this is the rescuer, something exploded over there.”
Through the pain, I felt a hand touch my neck. I tried to open my eyelids. It was difficult. Before my eyes was a rectangular pendant with zodiac signs engraved on it… The eyes of the woman in a white coat…
“To the operating room!” came the voice right nearby.
My parents returned from work. Mum rushed straight to the kitchen, peeking into the room where I was doing my homework. Dad, entering the room, immediately noticed that my mood was not the best.
“James, what happened?” Dad ruffled my hair.
“Nothing,” I muttered, a fourth-grader.
“Come on, out with it!”
“Valentine’s Day is coming up soon. The teacher kept us after school today and said we need to prepare gifts for the girls.”
“Well, what’s the problem?” Dad smiled.
“There are the same number of boys and girls. And she assigned who gives to whom,” I sighed heavily. “I got the ugly one, Emily Parker.”
“All girls want a gift on Valentine’s Day, even the ones who aren’t pretty,” Dad tried to speak to me as an adult. “And how did she assign them? By the alphabet?”
“No, by zodiac signs?”
“How does that work?” Dad couldn’t help smiling again.
“By compatibility. Emily is a Virgo, and Virgos match best with Taurus. And I’m a Taurus, as it turns out.”
“That’s good if you match! When you grow up, you might even fall in love with her.”
Dad couldn’t hold it in and laughed. Mum immediately ran into the room:
“What’s going on here?”
“Sarah, go to the kitchen,” Dad’s face turned stern. “We have a serious talk with our son.”
When Mum left, I asked in a sad voice:
“Dad, what do I do now?”
“Prepare a gift!”
“What kind?”
“Tomorrow at work, I’ll make one for your chosen girl.”
“Dad, what kind of gift can you make? You work at the factory.”
“Yes! But I work in the electroplating section. We do all sorts of metal coatings there.”
“Dad, I don’t get it.”
“You’ll see tomorrow!”
***
The next day, Dad brought a pendant on a chain in the shape of a rectangle that looked golden. On one side were engraved two zodiac signs, Taurus and Virgo, and on the other, in small but beautiful letters:
“To my classmate Emily for Valentine’s Day! James.”
Oh, how beautifully this pendant looked! And when Mum wrapped it in a cellophane bag, it looked even more amazing.
***
And so, the day before Valentine’s Day. The teacher wasn’t planning to teach lessons. First, the pupils gave her a gift. She thanked them for a long time. Then she announced that the boys should give their gifts to the girls.
What a commotion started! All the boys dashed to their “chosen ones”. I also went up to Emily Parker and said, as Dad had taught me:
“Emily, congratulations on Valentine’s Day! Perhaps one day fate will bring Taurus and Virgo together.”
After saying the rehearsed phrase, I headed back to my seat and, of course, didn’t notice how this girl’s heart, who I thought was ugly, started pounding.
Soon, Emily’s parents moved to another neighborhood, and from fifth grade, Emily started attending a different school.
***
I opened my eyes. The white ceiling of the hospital ward. I tried to move my arms and legs. Only my left arm moved.
“Where am I?” I asked, not sure who to.
There was a clatter, and a patient on crutches came up to my bed, looked at me intently, and asked:
“Back with us? You’re in the emergency surgery ward.”
“Are my arms and legs all okay?” I asked quietly.
“Looks like everything’s still attached,” he shared the good news. “But you’re bandaged from head to toe.”
“That’s good, as long as everything’s intact.”
Then a nurse approached and asked kindly:
“How are you feeling?”
“What’s wrong with me?” I replied with a question.
“Your life isn’t in danger. Your arms and legs will work fine. But you’ll have quite a few scars,” she handed me the phone, which was turned on. “Your mum wanted you to call her when you woke up.”
“Sonny,” came Mum’s voice through tears.
“Mum, everything’s alright,” I tried to sound as upbeat as I could. “They said only a few small scars will remain. I’ll be discharged soon.”
“They wouldn’t let me stay with you overnight. Sonny, I’ll come right now.”
“Mum, don’t worry too much!”
I set the phone down beside me and tried to smile at the nurse:
“Thanks!”
“Well, they won’t be letting you out anytime soon,” the nurse smiled back. “You’ll be here for three weeks, for sure!”
“What happened to you?” asked my ward neighbor once the nurse had gone.
“I’m a rescuer. Oxygen cylinders started exploding at the plant,” I began to remember. “They called us in. We got there before the fire brigade. The place is massive, with three casualties inside. We went in, cylinders everywhere, some fire spots. We started carrying out the injured… I was the last one out… Just as I was by the door, another cylinder blew up… I don’t remember anything after that.”
“Yeah, you really took a hit.”
“James Thompson,” the nurse’s voice called. “A work colleague is here for you.”
“Hey, James! How are you doing?”
“Arms and legs are fine!” I replied optimistically. “But I can only greet you with my left hand for now!”
“Don’t be like that!”
“What happened after?”
“We were already on our way out when it exploded. We rushed straight back in and pulled you out… you were covered in blood… the doctors were already there…”
“Thank you!”
“James, what are you on about?!” A smile suddenly appeared on my friend’s face. “They might even give us medals for this.”
“I’ll be out by then.”
“Alright, I’m off. The nurse said rounds are coming soon, so keep it short.”
My friend hadn’t left yet when the doctor, a man in his forties, came in:
“Well, how are we doing, hero?” He walked over to my bed.
“Alright.”
“If you’re talking, you’ll live. Let’s have a look at you!”
“Did you do the stitching?” I asked.
“No, Emily Harrison did. She’ll be in the day after tomorrow.”
***
Two days went by. I was already attempting to stand. The pain in my legs was still bad, and my right arm was lacerated. There were at least ten wounds across my body. Two on my face from when I hit the gate during the explosion; luckily, I got my right hand up in time. I checked myself in the mirror. My face was still puffy.
Today, the doctor who had spent five hours stitching me up in the operating theatre was due to do the rounds. I was even a bit nervous.
Then she walked in. Young and slim, wearing glasses, but they didn’t detract from her looks at all, and the white coat really suited her. At twenty-seven, I had already been married, but we split after six months we just didn’t get along, as the paperwork said, though really my ex-wife wasn’t keen on a rescuer’s pay.
“Hello!” the doctor said, heading towards my bed.
“Hello! Was it you who stitched me up?”
“Yes,” she smiled. “Is there something wrong?”
“Let me examine you.”
She leaned over me… Before my eyes was the pendant with zodiac signs dangling from her neck:
“Emily Parker!!!” I exclaimed.
She looked closely at my swollen face.
“I’m sorry!” she said, still not recognizing me.
“I’m a Taurus,” I said, pointing to the pendant.
“James Thompson?” Her lips quivered. “You remember me?”
“Of course, Emily,” seeing tears in her eyes, I placed my hand on hers.
“I’m sorry!” She pulled out a tissue and dabbed her eyes. “I never imagined we’d meet again like this.”
She didn’t come back to my ward that day. But I had figured out her shift pattern, similar to what mine used to be: a day shift, a night shift, and two days off.
I didn’t want to appear helpless in front of her. The whole next day, I practiced walking around the ward using the beds for support, and a couple of times I even ventured into the corridor, holding onto the wall.
Evening came. The daytime doctor left, and the new shift arrived you could tell from the chatter in the hallway. Rounds were about to start…
Suddenly, there were shouts and hurried footsteps in the corridor. That usually means another casualty has arrived.
It was past ten. The nurse came in and switched off the light in the ward. But sleep wouldn’t come. After midnight, footsteps echoed in the corridor, then they stopped, and in the quiet, I sensed rather than heard someone crying out there. I got up and quietly stepped into the corridor.
Sitting at the nurses’ station, with her head in her hands, was my old classmate, crying. I went over and put my good hand on her shoulder:
“What’s the matter, Emily?”
She stood up and buried her face in my shoulder:
“I operated on a woman who was hit by a car,” she started, her words muffled by tears. “I did everything I could and more… She’s in intensive care now, but she won’t make it. She has two children… her husband is with her in the room…”
“Calm down, Emily!”
“I’ve been a surgeon for three years, and I still can’t get used to people dying.”
“Calm down, calm down! That’s the nature of our jobs. In five years, I’ve seen plenty of deaths too, but we’ve saved a lot of lives as well,” I sighed. “That’s why my wife left me. She said I come home not quite myself and don’t earn enough. But I always bring home forty quid enough to live on.”
“It’s the same for me,” she looked up at my face. “Guys see me as some sort of oddball. I’ve never been married, and I still live with my parents like a kid.”
“Oh, come on, we’re only twenty-seven we’ve got our whole lives ahead.”
“No, James, we’re already twenty-seven.”
“Emily Harrison, her pulse is fading,” yelled the nurse who rushed out.
“Sorry!” and Emily dashed off to intensive care.
I couldn’t sleep at all that night. In the morning, the nurse came as usual and gave me an injection.
“Is the woman who had the operation last night still alive?” I asked, surprising even myself.
“She’s alive, but her condition is very serious.”
***
Three weeks passed. The wounds on my body had healed. We saw each other during her shifts, and I found myself drawn to her more and more. But the emergency surgery department wasn’t the right place for deep personal conversations.
Then, during one morning round, the male doctor announced:
“I’m discharging you today,” he smiled and added, “from the hospital, that is. Head straight to your local clinic, and they’ll decide how much longer you need to be off work.”
“Time to pack up?”
“Yes, yes! No need to hurry. They’ll prepare your discharge papers now.”
When the doctor left, I shaved. Looking in the mirror, I noted with satisfaction that the two remaining scars didn’t ruin my face; if anything, they added a bit of rugged charm. The other scars weren’t worth worrying about.
I got my things together and stepped out into the corridor. Coming towards me, holding onto the wall, was a patient.
“She pulled through after all!” The happy thought crossed my mind.
The nurse came out and handed me my discharge papers:
“Goodbye, James! Try not to end up back here!”
***
I had my own one-bedroom flat, but I headed to my parents’ place instead. Mum had been so worried and was waiting for me. She had even taken some time off work.
“Son!” Mum threw her arms around me.
“It’s okay, Mum! See, I’m alive and kicking.”
“Come on, I’ve got some food ready for you. You’ve lost so much weight.”
“Oh, I’ve missed proper home-cooked meals!”
“Until you’re better and married, you’ll stay in your old home. Your room’s still waiting for you,” she called out like I was a child. “Go and wash your hands!”
***
By the evening, I popped into the barber’s. Then I went to my flat and picked up some clothes. Mum set about pressing them right away.
In the evening, Dad came home from work. We sat down together, just like old times, and chatted until late into the night.
I went to bed in my old room, where I’d spent my childhood and teenage years, but I couldn’t sleep straight away:
“Tomorrow I need to visit the clinic. Then head to work. And in the evening…”
With thoughts of the following evening, I finally drifted off… well after midnight.
***
The next day, I went to the clinic first thing in the morning. I spent the morning going from one department to another. After lunch, I dropped by work, just as my shift was starting.
“Where are you off to?” Dad asked.
“Dad, remember way back when I was in fourth grade? You made that pendant as a gift for my classmate?”
“The ugly Emily Parker? I remember.”
“Remember how you said, ‘When you grow up, you might fall in love with her’?”
“I remember that too.”
“Dad, Emily’s a surgeon now. She was the one who operated on me. And she’s still wearing that pendant around her neck.”
“Well, I’ll be!”
“Dad, your words came true. I’m going to see her!”
Twenty-seven years isn’t so much to start a life with someone you love. Looking back on it all, I’ve learned that the past has a way of catching up with you, and that the connections we make, even as children, can shape our futures in surprising ways.
