Everyone Has a Story 2

by Savi Sharma

  With that, I turned the ringer off on my phone, squared my shoulders, and walked into the building. I was armed with an impressive portfolio of my business plan, but just as importantly, I was also equipped with memories of the beautiful locales I had visited over the last few years . . . memories that I was sure was as important to convey to my investors my idea as the numbers I had prepared.

  A few hours later, I was exhausted but excited at the same time. The meetings had gone well, and the investors seemed receptive to my startup plan. While nobody committed to financial support, several of them seemed to really like the idea and promised to get back to me within the next few weeks.

  Outside, I took my phone out to order an Uber back to my hotel. As soon as I looked at the screen, my heart lurched. There were eleven missed calls and even more unread texts. Something had happened.

  Without even checking the call list or reading the texts, I called Meera immediately.

  ‘Vivaan!’ she cried. ‘Thank God you called back!’ Her voice was high and choked with tears.

  ‘What happened, Meera?’

  ‘Kabir’s been hurt!’ she sobbed. ‘There was a fire at the café.’

  ‘No!’ I said, shaking my head, trying to push her words away. It couldn’t be. Not Kabir! ‘How badly is he hurt?’

  ‘I’m not sure. I came back from Delhi when Nisha called. . . I’m on my way to the hospital right now.’

  ‘But Kabir. . . what happened?’

  ‘I don’t know yet. He’s in surgery.’

  Mentally, I calculated the distance to the airport. ‘I’ll call and get the next flight back to Pune,’ I promised. ‘Let me know if you have any updates. I’ll be there as soon as I can.’

  9

  MEERA

  My cab finally arrived at the hospital. I looked up at the imposing building. The well-balanced, bright building façade held so many emotions—joy, fear, pain, hope, and sorrow. It was impossible to predict all the stories ensconced within the hospital walls.

  Although I had been sitting in the cab for what seemed like a painfully long ride from the airport, my heart was beating fearfully.

  ‘I’ll take your bags back to your house,’ Aashi promised. ‘And call me if you need anything. Anything at all. I can come immediately.’

  I gave her a wobbly smile of gratitude before I ran into the hospital. At the reception area, it was everything I could do not to just shout out Nisha’s name, but I knew how foolish that was. She was most likely on another floor, and I would have scared everyone with my behaviour.

  I rushed to a reception desk. Although there was a line of people in front of me, they saw my agitation and waved me to the front of the line. Even strangers seemed aware of my urgency, and their compassion was not lost on me.

  When I gave Kabir’s name, a young woman entered it into the computer and waved someone over. ‘Our volunteer here can take you there,’ she said, and said something to the elderly man. His eyes widened, and he hurried around the counter.

  ‘Please, come with me,’ he said, gesturing at me to follow him.

  I nodded my thanks to the woman and left with the volunteer. It was obvious that, even though age had slowed down his body, he was trying to hurry. ‘I’m sorry I am going slowly,’ he apologised. ‘But I promise, it’ll be easier to lead you there instead of giving you directions and sending you off to maybe get lost.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I said, willing his aged body to move faster.

  ‘Is this a friend or a relative?’ he asked.

  ‘A friend. A good friend,’ I responded as we rushed down the bright hallway. ‘There was a fire at his café. I don’t know much else, except that he was rushed here and was going into surgery.’

  ‘We have some of the finest doctors in this hospital,’ he promised. ‘Your friend is in very good hands, I know.’

  We turned a corner, and then went down another hallway before turning around another corner—he was right; I would have gotten lost for sure—and then I heard Nisha’s voice. Turning quickly to the volunteer, I thanked him before I sprinted down the rest of the hallway. She was leaning heavily on Samarth, the assistant manager of the café, but started towards me as I ran.

  Nisha threw herself into my arms, crying, and I had to take a step back to catch myself. ‘What do you know?’ I asked.

  She pulled away, tears streaming down her face. ‘Nothing yet. He is in surgery right now. A nurse came out at one point and told me it would be several hours.’

  ‘He’s strong,’ I told Nisha. ‘He will be okay, I’m sure.’

  She nodded and wiped at her eyes almost angrily. ‘He will,’ Nisha said with an almost feral determination. I put my arm around her and we stepped out of the hallway into the surgical waiting room. I heard a pitiful whimper and realised Jianna was sitting in a chair, her eyes wide and her bottom lip trembling.

  ‘Oh sweetheart,’ I cooed and swept her into my arms, hugging her tightly and burying my nose in her beautiful baby hair, drawing in her innocent smell like a medicine.

  ‘I came so fast, I had to bring her with me,’ Nisha said. ‘She’s scared to death.’

  ‘We all are,’ I said, my mind hurting to see those innocent eyes wide with confusion and fear. ‘I can call Aashi and have her come get the baby,’ I offered. Jianna loved my assistant, and it felt wrong to have the baby here where the sights and sounds were probably terrifying her.

  Nisha breathed her relief. ‘That would be perfect. She wouldn’t mind?’

  My phone was already in my hand. ‘Of course not,’ I said. ‘She can take Jianna back to your apartment and get her settled in.’

  The cab Aashi was in was only a few blocks away and by the time I reached the main entrance with Jianna, she was rushing through the doors. ‘Thank you for coming back so quickly,’ I said. ‘I didn’t even ask if you would mind. . .’

  Aashi shook her head quickly. ‘Of course I don’t mind. I’m glad to have something to do . . . and you know I love this little lady,’ she said affectionately, gathering Jianna into her arms.

  I handed her Nisha’s apartment key and gave her a few quick instructions before planting a final kiss on Jianna’s head. ‘Your daddy will be fine,’ I told the baby, even though I knew she couldn’t really understand me.

  Back in the waiting room, one hour pressed into two, with no word on Kabir’s condition. I sat stoically beside Nisha, not speaking, leaving her to her thoughts. I hoped they were good, pleasant memories with Kabir. My own mind was filled with prayers and unanswered questions.

  I was in the cafeteria getting some food for Nisha when I heard long strides rushing to me. ‘Vivaan!’ I said, running to his arms, the food items forgotten.

  I buried my head in his chest and felt his long arms wrap around my body. I felt reassured by his strength and allowed myself to finally start crying. ‘Kabir?’ he said softly.

  I shook my head, then realising he probably thought the worst, I managed to choke out the words: ‘Nothing yet,’ before my fear took over again. I cried for the woman in the waiting room, wrapped in her own cocoon of fear, I cried for the man who must have been in agonising pain, fighting for his life. I cried for their little girl, who was hopefully sleeping by now, unaware that she might just lose her father.

  I cried and cried, balling Vivaan’s shirt in my fists.

  He, in turn, held me, whispering soothingly. I never heard the words, but I knew he was trying to take on some of my pain.

  Finally, as if a light was turned on, the tears stopped. I felt my spine straighten, and Vivaan must have, too, because his arms loosened, as if he were testing my strength, much like a parent tests their child’s security when learning to swim.

  I pulled back, my face coated with countless tears. Running the back of his hand across my cheeks, his eyes locked with mine. ‘Okay now?’ he asked gently.

  I took a brave gulp past my swollen throat and nodded. Then I laughed nervously. ‘Where did that come from?’ I said. ‘I didn’t mean to fall ap
art like that.’

  Vivaan hugged me again, resting his chin on the top of my head. I loved it when he did that. ‘I’m guessing you’ve been very strong for our Nisha, haven’t you?’

  ‘I. . . I guess so.’

  ‘I’m thinking you took a much-needed break from being the strong one, Meera,’ he said, squeezing my shoulders reassuringly. ‘Even if you didn’t want to.’

  I barked out a laugh. ‘No. I didn’t want to.’

  ‘It’s okay to cry, Meera. But about Kabir,’ he confirmed, ‘we know nothing yet, right?’ I shook my head. ‘Then let’s reinforce those walls for a little longer and go take care of Nisha. That is what Kabir would want.’

  ‘It is,’ I agreed, swiping at the last traces of tears. I knew my eyes were puffy and my nose was probably swollen, but the tears were gone. I took Vivaan’s hand, lacing my fingers through his. ‘Let’s go back.’

  Walking back to the cafeteria counter, I remembered to retrieve Nisha’s pitiful meal. ‘She didn’t want me to go to the restaurant for her,’ I explained needlessly, holding up the dry crackers.

  ‘Wait,’ he said, pulling me back quickly, and led me over to a water dispenser. ‘I think you need to slow down for a minute. Have a drink. It’ll help.’

  I nodded gratefully and took several long, healing gulps, feeling the cool water soothe my swollen throat.

  Together, we walked back to where Nisha was sitting, wrapped in her memories. She gave a sharp cry when she saw Vivaan, but this time, he rushed to her side. Standing back, my throat tightening once more, I imagined that I was watching a very similar scene that played out down the hall when I dissolved into his arms.

  When Nisha’s torrent of tears subsided, the two sat down, Vivaan holding her hand tightly. I slid into the chair beside her, so we had our dear friend sandwiched between us.

  ‘What happened?’ Vivaan asked. ‘How could this happen?’

  Nisha sniffled into a tissue and shook her head. ‘I don’t know, Vivaan. They are still investigating. It was early and, thankfully, there were no customers in the café at that time. The other staff were in the restaurant area getting ready for the day, and Kabir was back in the kitchen. Suddenly, they heard a horrible whoosh and Kabir shouted for them to get out. They turned back and could see the kitchen light up, but they never saw the fire.

  Kabir was only a few steps behind them and got out of the building quickly. But still, he was there when the wires short-circuited, or whatever happened, and he was burned.’

  ‘How did he get out?’

  ‘Everyone left out the front door, but Kabir didn’t follow right away. One of the staff was on his way back in when Kabir pushed through the door and fell to the ground.’

  ‘Did they say how bad he was burned?’ Vivaan had the courage to ask what I could not.

  Nisha shook her head. ‘They didn’t know. They said he sort of wrapped himself into a cocoon like he was protecting what was burned. His face and clothes were black from the smoke, so they really couldn’t tell how badly he was burned. When the ambulance came, they loaded him up quickly and took off.’

  She trailed off and the three of us sat back in our chairs, one united being, giving and gathering strength from each other. Over Nisha’s head, I caught Vivaan’s gaze and I gave him a brave smile. Whatever happened, we would face it together.

  My cheek was resting against Nisha’s soft hair when the doctor finally came in, looking tired but positive.

  He didn’t even have to say Nisha’s name. She saw him, took in his surgical robes, and went rushing toward him. ‘Kabir?’ she asked expectantly. Vivaan and I both hurried to her side, grasping her hands, maybe to keep her grounded or maybe to use them to ground us. I wasn’t sure.

  The surgeon nodded, a weary smile on his face. ‘He is alive and stable,’ he said to Nisha. ‘Of course, when we go into a situation like this, we never really know how bad the injury is. Your husband had some serious damage, but he was also very lucky in that he instinctually pulled away from the fire. His quick reflexes preserved a lot of tissue that may have otherwise been even more seriously burned.’

  Nisha let out a relieved cry. In response, we pulled at her, relieved and empowered at the same time. Where only a few minutes ago we were exhausted, we were all now rejuvenated and exhilarated.

  ‘The burns are bad, though,’ he warned. ‘We did have to take his undamaged skin and graft them onto the badly burned parts. . . his arms, neck and legs, mostly.’

  Nisha sagged against me and moaned a little. ‘But he will be okay?’

  The surgeon responded with a serious tone. ‘I am optimistic but cautious. The next few days are going to be very critical and he is extremely susceptible to infection, which could be critical.’

  ‘Can I see him?’ she asked.

  ‘He’s in recovery right now, so it will be a little longer. I will warn you, though, he is going to be in an excruciating amount of pain and we will be keeping him heavily medicated for quite a while. He’ll have to be in the hospital for at least a month as his burns heal and the skin starts to regenerate. When he is finally able to go home, his recovery will take several more months before he can return to any sort of work.’

  Nisha nodded, tears streaming down her eyes. ‘His café was destroyed so he has nothing to go back to anyway.’

  The surgeon nodded sombrely. ‘I heard and I’m very sorry. I’ve been to Kafe Kabir myself and it will be missed.’

  Fighting through her tears, Nisha’s chin lifted with determination. ‘But he is alive and that is all that matters.’

  ‘Yes,’ he responded. ‘That is all that matters.’

  Those words echoed in my mind like wind chimes in the breeze when we were finally able to see Kabir. The human body is an amazing thing, that it can take so much trauma and keep going. But our dear friend was at the mercy of the medical world, as he was hooked up to more machinery than what runs my car.

  Because of the risk of infection, Vivaan and I had to stay outside and watched tentatively through a window as Nisha, clad in a yellow medical suit and a mask, went in to see him. Before she walked through the doors, when she first saw him wrapped in bandages and obvious pain, I saw a look of sheer terror flash across her face before she wiped it away and replaced it with the soft, loving look that was pure Nisha.

  Part of me felt like I was intruding on such a private moment, but I remembered her almost pleading request that we stay close for now. And, to be honest, after everything that happened, after the horrible fears that had dogged us through the day, I needed to lay eyes on our dear friend. Catching Vivaan’s look of relief to see Kabir, even in this broken form, I knew he needed the same visual reassurance.

  She sat near him, speaking slowly, soothingly. I watched her reach out a tentative hand, wanting to touch him, to ease his suffering. Then, she pulled back. Where could she touch him without causing more pain? Where was he not injured? Nisha turned sad eyes to us. I nodded, not knowing exactly what I was nodding for. Just reassurance, I guessed. We were there for her, Vivaan and me, and we would be by their sides as long as they wanted us there.

  Soon, a nurse went to check on Kabir, ducking past us and then going into a small alcove to put a fresh hospital gown on. With fresh, germ-free clothing, the nurse checked Kabir’s vital signs, making notes in his chart. She and Nisha exchanged some words, although, with the masks on, we had no idea what was being said.

  Finally, the nurse reached out, squeezed Nisha’s shoulder and left after shedding her disposable protection.

  ‘How is he?’ I asked the nurse.

  ‘He is holding his own,’ she said. ‘He’ll be very sleepy for several days. . . we are keeping him heavily sedated on purpose. His body needs to rest, and if he was awake, he would be in so much pain, he wouldn’t be able to rest and heal.

  ‘Has his wife eaten lately?’ she continued.

  I nodded. ‘We were able to convince her to eat right before she went in to see Kabir.’

  ‘Good,’ the
nurse said. ‘She is going to need all the strength she has. Right now, she doesn’t want to leave his side. And I can imagine I would be the same way if I was in that situation. She did tell me to let you know that you can go home if you want to, so you can get some rest.’

  ‘We’ve already talked about it,’ Vivaan said. ‘I’m going to stay here, in case Kabir. . . Nisha. . . needs me. I’ll take a nap in the waiting room.’ He nodded toward the room a few steps away. ‘The next time you go in, can you please let her know where I am?’

  ‘And I’m going to go back to their house to take care of the baby and make more permanent arrangements. When I come back, I’ll bring a change of clothes for Nisha. Is there anything I can bring back for Kabir?’

  The nurse pursed her lips and considered. ‘Does he have any favourite music? Anything that would give him a sense of connection to his old world?’

  Vivaan and I exchanged a look. ‘I’m sure I can find some of his favourite CDs to bring back. That is a great idea, thank you.’

  ‘Of course,’ she said and turned to leave.

  I turned back to the window, waiting patiently until I caught Nisha’s eye. With a few hand gestures, I let her know that Vivaan would be staying and that I would be going to her apartment to help Aashi with the baby.

  In return, Nisha returned her own message of gratitude. I blew her a kiss and stepped away from the window. Giving Vivaan a tight hug, I gathered my belongings and left my three best friends behind me, torn between a need to stay and the driving desire to escape the sterile environment, even if just for a little while.

  10

  NISHA

  It was silent, so silent as I listened to the sounds of the hospital at night. Kabir looked so small under all his bandages, his face rippling with pain, even as he slept.

  I watched his chest rise and fall and watched the medicine dripping from the IV through the plastic tube into his arm. Every time he took a breath, I was relieved, but then immediately terrified. What if that was his last breath? What if there wasn’t another one?