Guardian
1478 Words
The unfortunate incident that befell August at the hospital after he insulted and slandered Nicholas unexpectedly turned the tables.
Those who initially believed Nicholas was at fault now whispered about August and Paula and their illicit affair.
After the incident spread, Paula couldn’t contain herself and ran to August, crying.
Her behavior caused many to realize their betrayal of Nicholas, and rumors about the data theft were seen as part of August’s scheme to steal Paula from Nicholas.
August suffered a back muscle injury and a fractured tailbone, making it difficult to sit or move. His hand, cut by scissors, developed a minor infection due to exposure to dirty water. It required special care for several days or even weeks.
This situation, of course, delayed August's plans to graduate early. Nicholas was pleased because he felt the universe was still on his side.
To celebrate the end of Dr. Hans's punishment, Nicholas planned to visit Cedar Lake before heading home to breathe fresh air and hear flowing water—things he hadn’t experienced in a long time at the hospital.
The two-hour, eleven-minute drive from the hospital to the San Bernardino National Forest didn’t deter him.
He deliberately kept the car windows open throughout the forest drive to feel Cedar Lake’s fresh air. The lake is managed as a campsite with wooden cabins and tent sites.
Nicholas loved this place.
The lake, formed by the small Metcalf Creek dam, offers natural beauty and tranquil water and fosters interaction among families and communities gathered at the campsite.
Nicholas entered and greeted the gatekeeper. He was so familiar there that no one minded him walking in and sitting against a pine tree along the lake’s edge.
He didn’t do much.
He just wanted to sleep peacefully.
"Hah!!!" He took a deep breath and exhaled.
"So comfortable and pleasant!" he said with a wide smile. He brought his sleeping bag and used it as a pillow beneath the tree. Its leaves rustled, and some fell off, carried by the wind.
It was quiet and peaceful. Only footsteps from a few people and some campers’ casual chatter and laughter could be heard.
Nicholas couldn’t help but smile broadly while keeping his eyes closed.
He quickly fell asleep and entered the world of dreams. Suddenly, he was jolted awake when he heard a man scream loudly.
“Help!”
A man in his 70s stood at the lake’s edge, pointing toward a child who was nearly drowning.
“Help! Save my grandson!" he shouted.
Nicholas saw campers quickly emerge and prepare to help. However, Nicholas acted faster. He ran toward the lake, dove in, and pulled the child toward the shore.
He didn’t care that his clothes and phone were soaked as long as he could save the child, who was almost out of breath.
Upon reaching shore, Nicholas administered first aid to the child, who regained consciousness and began crying in his grandfather’s arms.
Camp staff assisted Nicholas.
"Thank you so much, Nich! You were a tremendous help!" Gilbert, the camp manager and guard, extended his hand.
"No problem!"
Nicholas’s breath was labored as he tried to catch it.
“My job is to save lives!”
His eyes then turned to the child and grandfather, who were led by camp staff to the clinic for further examination.
His eyes narrowed as he watched the grandfather walk away, leaving Nicholas momentarily speechless.
His thoughts faded as Gilbert handed him a set of clothes.
"Here!" he said. "Change your clothes! You might get sick."
Nicholas glanced at Gilbert and chuckled.
"You're so considerate!" he teased. “Do you have underwear, too?” Nicholas asked.
Gilbert smirked and shook his head.
"You want *my* underwear? I haven’t washed them in three days!" he retorted.
Nicholas furrowed his brow and shuddered at Gilbert’s confession. Though it sounded like a joke, Nicholas knew Gilbert hadn’t washed his underwear in three days.
He could smell the foul odor of rotting garbage emanating from Gilbert’s body.
“Ugh! I still care about my assets!”
Nicholas hurriedly left, dodging the pebbles Gilbert threw at him.
“Damn you!” Gilbert cursed.
Nicholas exited the changing room carrying a plastic bag filled with wet clothes.
It was actually a trash bag because there was no better bag to wrap his waterlogged clothes.
He took a few steps, intending to go home immediately, as Cedar Lake’s fresh air had banished his drowsiness, and his adrenaline was pumping fast.
He was satisfied. Very satisfied.
His visit to Cedar Lake had refreshed his mind and heart, troubled lately by circumstances and people around him. However, an incident had startled Nicholas and nearly stopped his heart.
He was grateful, though, that the boy was safe and had returned to his cabin to rest.
His condition was good, thanks to Nicholas’s earlier first aid.
"Nicholas!" Gilbert shouted from the camp office direction.
He waved, gesturing for Nicholas to come over.
"I want to go home!" Nicholas shouted back.
But Gilbert kept waving, insisting Nicholas come to his office first.
Frowning and taking a deep breath, Nicholas finally complied. He walked toward Gilbert, curious about what he wanted.
But it wasn’t Gilbert who had called him.
It was the old man whose grandson Nicholas had saved earlier.
“Mr. Nicholas!” the old man greeted him.
He extended his hand and smiled warmly.
“Just Nicholas!” Nicholas replied.
"Ah, yes!" He smiled again. "I'm Abraham Houston." He introduced himself.
Nicholas recognized the name and profile of the man before him. He realized the man owned the Houston Group, a property, mining, and construction conglomerate.
In fact, rumors said he was expanding into healthcare by purchasing a private hospital in an American region.
“Oh, yes, Mr. Abraham!” Nicholas shook Abraham's hand without preconceptions.
He never imagined standing before a conglomerate whose face frequently graced American business magazine covers and who served as a role model for entrepreneurs abroad.
They sat facing each other.
Gilbert waited outside with a burly man whom Nicholas guessed was Abraham's bodyguard.
"I apologize for interrupting your time and delaying your departure. I just wanted to thank you for saving my grandson Erico's life."
There was no arrogance in his tone or body language.
He was sincere, and Nicholas felt Abraham's gratitude through his sharp yet gentle, friendly gaze.
"No thanks needed, Mr. Abraham. Saving lives is my duty," Nicholas replied honestly.
"I know. But I'm still profoundly grateful. They said your quick first aid for Erico made all the difference!" Abraham said.
Nicholas smiled faintly, bowed his head, and said, "Thank you."
This wasn't the first time he'd heard such words as a doctor.
"If it's not too much trouble and doesn't offend you, I'd like to offer a small token of appreciation," Abraham said. Hearing this, Nicholas felt uncomfortable and immediately refused.
"No!" he exclaimed reflexively.
Abraham fell silent, his hand pausing briefly before pulling out a thick brown envelope that seemed to contain cash.
"Please, don't give me anything!" Nicholas said.
Abraham looked at Nicholas with a piercing gaze.
Nicholas was truly uneasy. Besides the gift, he disliked the curiosity he sensed in Abraham's gaze.
"I mean it. I want nothing. I helped Erico sincerely, and I genuinely appreciate your thanks!" Nicholas replied.
"You truly won't accept this?" Abraham asked again.
Nicholas firmly shook his head.
"I can't accept it. I'm sorry!" Nicholas stated firmly.
He needed money to live and continue his studies, as his scholarship was in jeopardy. But his heart refused the money.
He was sincere. Erico’s safety was happiness enough. However, Nicholas sensed Abraham wasn’t satisfied. He also noticed bruises on Abraham’s legs and knees, recalling his earlier gait.
“Mr. Abraham, I truly appreciate your sincerity. But if you're truly grateful, would you permit me something?" Nicholas asked.
“What is it?”
Nicholas knelt before Abraham, examined his legs closely, and took a deep breath.
“Can you cover one eye with your hand and look at my nose?” Nicholas asked.
Though confused, Abraham complied.
“Can you see my hand here?” Nicholas moved his hand under Abraham’s head, spreading his fingers. “Can you see how many fingers I’m holding?” he asked.
Abraham remained silent.
"What are you implying?" Abraham asked.
“I noticed your legs are bruised, and your gait was off earlier. If you can’t see my hand or count my fingers, a tumor may be pressing on your pituitary nerve.”
The old man startled, his eyes widening.
“T-tumor?” His voice stuttered.
“Don’t panic. Get checked immediately. But you must act now! The tumor has narrowed your visual field. That’s why you trip and limp.”
"You...?"
Abraham was speechless.
Nicholas stood and bowed respectfully.
"Goodbye, Mr. Abraham! Promise me you’ll get treatment to keep playing with Erico.”
***
- Writer
