Chapter 3
1945 Words
Samar woke up before his alarm.
The room was still dark. The city outside his window hummed low. Like it was breathing in its sleep. He lay there staring at the ceiling. Trying to remember why his chest felt tight.
Then...
The playground. The ambulance. The hospital hallway. The woman with the steady voice and tired eyes.
Mei.
He rolled onto his side and groaned softly. He did not like the way his brain grabbed onto names like that. He especially did not like the way it grabbed onto faces.
He checked his phone. No messages. Too early for messages.
He lay there longer than he should have. Then finally got up.
The floor was cold. He padded into the kitchen and made tea that was too weak. Drank it anyway. His bag sat by the door, still half open from the night before. Papers spilled out onto the floor.
He crouched and gathered them. Lesson plans. Essays. A stack of worksheets with red marks all over them.
Normal life.
He told himself that was good.
At school, the hallway felt louder than usual. Lockers slammed. Kids shouted greetings. Someone ran past holding a half-eaten bagel.
Samar smiled and waved. He did what he always did. Stood at his classroom door and said good morning like it mattered. For most of the kids, it did.
When he stepped inside the room, he noticed the empty desk right away.
Dakota's seat.
He stopped there. Hand resting on the back of the chair. He had already been told she would be okay. He knew that. Still, the empty space tugged at him.
He straightened the desk even though it did not need it.
When class started, he did his best. Talked about a short story they were reading. Asked questions. Cracked a joke when the room got too quiet.
The kids laughed. A few groaned rolling their eyes.
It helped.
Halfway through the lesson he caught himself looking toward the door. He was not sure what he expected to see.
He shook his head and kept going.
By lunch, his voice was hoarse. He sat with Nina in the teacher's lounge and pushed food around on his tray.
Nina taught math next door. And unsure how, but she was good at reading him.
"You are quiet today," she said.
He shrugged. "Long week."
"It is Tuesday."
"Exactly."
She studied him for a moment. "You thinking about the kid?"
"Yeah." Then he added, "And other stuff."
She waited.
"There was a paramedic," he said. Keeping his eyes on his food. "She was really calm. Like nothing rattled her."
Nina smiled. "Ah."
"That does not mean anything," he said quickly.
She raised an eyebrow. "I did not say it did."
He sighed. "I am just tired."
That part was true.
After school, Samar stayed late grading papers. The sun slid down behind the building. The room grew quiet. He liked this time usually. Today, it felt lonely.
When he finally packed up he stood there with his bag in his hand. Unsure where to go.
Home made sense.
The hospital crossed his mind anyway.
He told himself it was for Dakota. He had extra worksheets. He could drop them off. That was reasonable.
So he went.
The hospital smelled the same as always. Clean and sharp. He felt out of place walking through the halls without a real reason.
He found the volunteer office on the second floor. A woman with bright lipstick and too much enthusiasm handed him a clipboard.
"You the teacher?" she asked.
"Yes. Samar Singh."
"Linda." She shook his hand. "We are so glad you called. The kids really need this kind of support."
She gave him a badge. Explained the program. Talked about schedules and expectations and background checks.
He nodded along. Signed where she told him to sign.
"You can start next week," Linda said. "Saturday mornings are usually best. Less chaos."
"Saturday works."
"Perfect. Welcome to the team, Mr. Singh."
He left feeling both relieved and nervous.
On the drive home he thought about what Nina said. About the paramedic. About how he mentioned her at all.
He told himself it did not mean anything.
People met people all the time. Especially in emergencies. That did not make it significant.
But when he got home and sat on his couch in the dark, he thought about her face. About the way she said his name. About how she looked at him like she was trying to figure out if he was real.
He wondered if she thought about him at all. Probably not.
She seemed like the kind of person who moved on fast. Who did not let things stick. He envied that a little.
The week dragged. Classes blurred together. Dakota came back on Thursday. The whole class clapped when she walked in. She looked embarrassed but happy.
Samar gave her the makeup work. Told her to take her time.
"Thanks Mr. Singh," she said quietly.
"Anytime."
Friday afternoon he got a text from Linda. A reminder about Saturday. He replied with a thumbs up.
That night, he could not sleep.
He kept thinking about the hospital. About the pediatric ward. About what he would say if he ran into Mei.
Probably nothing. She would be working. He would be volunteering. Ships passing. That was fine. He did not need to see her again.
Saturday morning came too fast. He showed up at the hospital with too much energy and not enough tea.
Signed in at the volunteer desk. Got his badge. Clipped it to his shirt crooked. Fixed it. Decided crooked was fine.
Linda met him there. Gave him another speech about the kids. About being patient. About not taking rejection personally.
"Some of them do not want help," she said slowly. "And that is okay."
"I understand."
"Good. You are going to do great, Mr. Singh."
He was not sure about that. But he nodded anyway.
The pediatric ward was on the fourth floor. Bright colors on the walls. Cartoon animals. A mural of an underwater scene that looked like a third grader painted it. Probably was a third grader.
It smelled like cleaning solution and something sweet. Maybe juice boxes.
A nurse at the station looked up when he approached.
"You the new volunteer?"
"Yes. Samar Singh."
"Rebecca." She shook his hand. Firm grip. "We have three kids today who might want help. Two are doing okay. One just got out of surgery yesterday, so she might not be up for it."
"That is fine. Whatever they need."
Rebecca walked him down the hall. Explained the rooms. The rules. No loud voices. Wash your hands constantly. If a kid looks tired let them rest.
The first room had a boy maybe ten years old. Watching cartoons with the volume too loud.
"Hey Marcus," Rebecca said. "This is Mr. Singh. He is here to help with school stuff if you want."
Marcus looked at Samar. Then back at the TV. "No thanks."
"Okay buddy. Let us know if you change your mind."
They left. Samar tried not to feel rejected. Linda said this might happen.
The second room had a girl reading a book. She looked up when they came in.
"Hi sweetie," Rebecca said. "Want some company?"
The girl shrugged. "I guess."
Her name was Aisha. She was twelve. She had math homework she did not understand and an English essay she did not want to write.
Samar pulled up a chair. "What is the essay about?"
"A hero. We are supposed to write about someone we think is a hero."
"That is a good topic. Do you have someone in mind?"
Aisha looked at her hands. "My mom maybe. But that feels boring."
"Why does it feel boring?"
"Because everyone writes about their mom."
"That does not make it boring," Samar said. "It just means a lot of people have good moms. What makes your mom a hero?"
Aisha thought about it. "She works two jobs. And she is here every day even though she is tired. And she does not cry in front of me even though I know she wants to."
Samar's chest felt tight. "That sounds like a hero to me."
They worked on the essay for forty minutes. Aisha wrote slow but thoughtful. She crossed things out. Started over. Asked Samar how to spell words she definitely knew how to spell.
When visiting hours started her mom showed up. A small woman with bags under her eyes and a smile that looked like it took effort.
"Thank you," she said to Samar. Quiet. Genuine.
"She is a great writer," Samar said.
Aisha's mom touched her daughter's hair. Soft. Careful.
Samar left them alone.
In the hallway he washed his hands. Then washed them again.
He looked down the hall. Nurses moved between rooms. A kid laughed somewhere. A machine beeped steady and constant.
He did not see her.
He told himself that was fine. She was probably not even working today. Different shifts. Different floors. It did not matter.
Rebecca appeared with a clipboard. "You did good with Aisha. Her mom was really happy."
"She is a sweet kid."
"They all are. Even the grumpy ones." She glanced at her watch. "You want to try one more? Or call it a day?"
"One more is good."
The third room had a boy named Jamie. He was eight and had broken his leg falling off a trampoline. He had spelling homework he clearly hated.
Samar sat with him for an hour. Made up silly sentences for each word. Jamie laughed more than he spelled but that seemed okay.
When Samar finally left the pediatric ward it was past noon. His volunteer shift was over.
He took the stairs instead of the elevator. Told himself it was for exercise.
On the third-floor landing he stopped. Looked through the small window in the door.
The hallway was busy. Doctors. Nurses. A man in a wheelchair being pushed by someone in scrubs.
And then he saw her.
Mei was walking fast. Talking into a radio clipped to her shoulder. Her face was serious. Focused. She did not look left or right.
Samar's hand went to the door handle. He could feel his pulse in his fingers. Then stopped. What would he even say?
Hi I was just wandering around the hospital hoping to run into you?
He let go of the handle.
Mei disappeared around a corner.
Samar stood there for another minute. Then kept walking down the stairs.
Outside the air was cold. He got in his car and sat there without starting the engine.
His phone buzzed.
A text from his own mom: How is volunteering going?
He replied: " Good. The kids are sweet.
His mom: Of course they are. You are good with kids. Are you eating enough?
He smiled. His mom always asked if he was eating enough.
He replied: Yes mom. I am eating.
Mom: Good. Come for dinner tomorrow. I am making biryani.
He smiled: I will be there.
That night he tried to grade papers but could not focus. He kept thinking about the hospital. About Aisha's essay. About Jamie's laugh. About Mei walking down that hallway like she had somewhere important to be.
He wondered if she even remembered him. Probably not.
One emergency among hundreds. One teacher among thousands.
He closed his laptop and went to bed early. But sleep did not come for a long time. And when it did he dreamed about sirens and steady hands and a calm voice that said just doing my job like it was the simplest thing in the world.
- Writer
