Chalk Dust and Midnight Shifts

Chapter2

Mei hated the fluorescent lights in hospitals.

They were too loud. Buzzing. They made everyone look sick, even when they were not. After fourteen hours on shift, she felt half dead herself. So maybe it was not the lights. Maybe it was just her.

She leaned against the nurses' station and filled out paperwork she should have finished an hour ago. Her coffee sat nearby, cold and forgotten. Her feet ached. Somewhere down the hall someone was crying, and she was trying very hard not to hear it.

The kid from earlier was fine.

Dakota Martinez. Asthma attack. Moderate severity. Responded well to treatment. Breathing stable. Discharge likely tomorrow.

Mei should feel good about that.

Ofcourse, she did feel good about that.

But the feeling did not last long. It never did. It slid away and left behind something heavier. Something that felt deeper than just needing sleep.

"You still here?" Marcus walked past with a clipboard. The other paramedic from the call. Tall guy. Always smiling even when things were bad.

"Finishing charts."

"That was hours ago."

"I got behind."

Marcus shook his head, looking at her with those pity eyes. "You work too much."

Mei did not answer. She signed her name at the bottom of the form she just filled.

Added it to the pile.

Marcus leaned on the counter next to her. "That teacher was really worried."

"They usually are."

"No, I mean really worried. Followed the ambulance. Stayed in the waiting room for two hours."

Mei paused for half a second. Mei remembered. The guy with chalk on his sleeve and panic in his eyes. Talked too much. Asked too many questions. Got in the way.

But he cared. She could tell that much. She had seen enough fear to know the difference between noise and real concern.

"He seemed nice," Marcus said.

"He seemed anxious."

"Same thing sometimes."

Mei gathered her things. Jacket. Bag. Keys. Muscle memory. End of shift.

"Going home," she said, slingling her bag on her shoulder.

"Finally. You gonna actually sleep or just stare at your ceiling?"

"Goodnight, Marcus."

He laughed. "Night Mei."

The drive home was quiet. Streets were empty this late. Streetlights passed overhead in rhythm. Same old. Same old.

Her apartment was dark when she got there. She did not turn on the lights. Just dropped her bag by the door. Took off her shoes. Sat on the couch in the dark.

Her phone buzzed. Text from her supervisor about next week's schedule. Another double shift on Thursday. She replied yes before she could think about it.

Sleep did not come easy. It never did after calls involving kids. She kept seeing Dakota's face. That awful wheeze. The way her lips turned blue before the oxygen kicked in.

And she kept hearing that teacher's voice.

Samar. That was his name.

He said thank you too many times. Like he thought she might not hear him the first time.

People always thanked her. It was part of the job. Save someone and they say thank you. She never knew what to do with it.

You are welcome just felt wrong. Like she did it for them specifically and not just because it was her job.

So she usually just nodded and walked away.

That teacher though. He looked at her different. Like she was something more than just someone doing their job.

She did not like that.

Morning came too fast. Alarm at six. She hit snooze twice then gave up.

Got in the shower. The water was too hot, but she adjusted to it.

Work was work. Calls came in. She responded. Car accident on the highway. Elderly man with chest pain. Drunk college kid who fell off a balcony.

Normal stuff.

It was late afternoon when Marcus mentioned the volunteer.

"There's a teacher starting next week," he said. "School volunteer program. Gonna help kids in the pediatric ward keep up with homework."

Mei was restocking the ambulance. Barely looking at him, she replied, "Okay."

"Thought you'd want to know."

She did not love the pediatric floor. She just did not hate it like some of the other paramedics did. Kids were honest about being scared. Adults lied and said they were fine when they were dying.

"Why would I care?" Mei asked, snapping the cabin shut. Now to the next one.

Marcus grinned. "Because it's that teacher from yesterday. The worried one."

Mei stopped. Looked at him.

"Samar Singh," Marcus continued. "He called the hospital. Asked if he could help somehow. They set him up with the volunteer coordinator."

"Not our department."

"I know. Just thought it was nice. Guy actually follows through."

Mei went back to restocking. "Good for him."

But something in her chest felt tight.

She told herself it did not matter. Volunteers came and went. Most of them quit after a few weeks. Too hard. Too sad. Too much.

He would quit, too.

A week later she saw him.

She was coming off a night shift. Exhausted. Hair falling out of its tie. Uniform wrinkled and smelling like antiseptic and stale coffee.

He was in the hallway outside the pediatric ward. Talking to a nurse. Smiling that same smile. Holding a stack of books that looked too heavy.

Mei kept walking. Head down. Maybe he would not notice.

"Mei!"

She stopped. Cursed internally. Why the f**k? Turned around.

Samar walked toward her. The books wobbled in his arms.

"Hi," he said. Out of breath even though he barely walked ten feet. "I did not know you worked here. Well. Obviously, you work here. I saw you here before. I just meant I did not know your schedule. Or that you would be here. Today. Right now." He talked like sentences were something he had to get rid of fast.

"Paramedics rotate," Mei said. "We work everywhere."

"Right. Yes. That makes sense."

Silence.

He shifted the books. One started to slide. He caught it. Barely.

"Those look heavy," Mei said. She did not know why she said it.

"Oh. Yeah. Books for the kids. I am volunteering now. Helping them keep up with school stuff. After Dakota, I just. I wanted to do something."

Of course he did.

"That is good," Mei said.

"You think so?"

"I just said it."

"Right. Sorry. Yes."

Another silence. This one longer.

A nurse walked past them. Gave Mei a curious look. Mei ignored it.

"I should go," Mei said.

"Of course. You look tired."

She raised an eyebrow.

His face went red. "Not in a bad way. Just. Long shift probably. You probably had a long shift. Which makes sense because you look. I mean you do not look bad. You just look like someone who worked all night."

He was digging himself deeper. He chuckled awkwardly, scratching his head.

"Fourteen hours," Mei said.

"That is too long."

"It is normal."

He nodded like he understood. His face said he did not.

Mei started walking away.

"Hey, Mei?"

She turned. Barely. What now?

"Thank you again. For Dakota. She is back at school now. Doing really good. She asked if I could thank the paramedic lady with the serious face."

Something almost like a smile tried to happen on Mei's face. She stopped it.

"Tell her she is welcome," Mei said.

Then she left before he could say anything else.

In the locker room, she changed into regular clothes. Jeans. Old sweater. Civilian armor. Sharon was there. Older paramedic. Putting on her uniform for the next shift.

"You okay?" Sharon asked. "You look annoyed."

"I am fine."

"Uh huh."

Mei grabbed her bag. "There is a new volunteer." She said. "Teacher. He talks a lot."

Sharon laughed. "And that bothers you because?"

"It does not."

"Sure, honey."

Mei left without saying goodbye.

Walking to her car she thought about Samar's face. About how he smiled even when he looked exhausted. About those books he carried like they mattered more than anything.

She did not understand people like that.

People who volunteered their free time. Who followed ambulances to make sure kids were okay. Who said thank you like they meant it every single time.

She did not understand and she did not want to.

Caring too much only led to breaking. She learned that a long time ago.

Her mother cared too much. About everyone. About everything. About neighbors and strangers and people who did not deserve it. And then she got sick. And she died. And all that caring did not matter.

Mei unlocked her car. Sat in the driver's seat without starting the engine.

She would avoid the pediatric ward for a while. Easy enough. Plenty of other floors to drop patients at.

She did not need to see Samar Singh again. Did not need his smiles or his thank yous or his armfuls of books.

She started the car. But driving home she kept seeing his face. Kept hearing his voice.

I wanted to do something.

Like wanting to do something was enough reason to actually do it. Like caring was simple.

Mei turned up the radio to drown it out.

At home she made instant noodles. Ate them standing at the counter. Washed the bowl. Got into bed even though it was only seven PM.

Her phone buzzed.

Marcus: Heard you ran into the teacher volunteer today

Mei stared at the message. He has too much time on his hands.

Marcus: He asked if you work weekends

Marcus: Told him sometimes. why? you interested? lol

Mei put her phone face down on the nightstand.

She was not interested. She was tired. There was a difference.

She closed her eyes and tried not to think about chalk dust or worried brown eyes or books carried like they could save someone.

Sleep came eventually. But in her dreams, she heard sirens. Saw a kid who could not breathe. Felt someone's hand shaking in hers.

And when she woke up three hours later in the dark, she could not remember if the hand was Dakota's or her mother's or her own.