Of Pandemic Nights and Bright Lights
There were loud rhythmic dings. Slowly they encompass my head. And finally, movement. Movement? Movement! I shook myself. Eyes open. The late afternoon sun rays penetrate the cheap fabrics of my curtains. My hands fell onto my bedside table. Frantically searching for that small round switch as my eyes slowly adjust to the brightness of day.
Thud. Click.
There. I looked over to the alarm clock. 4 PM. SHIT! 4 PM?! I’m late!
I scamper over to the edge of the bed, grab my uniform dangling over at the cloth rack, and did a huge lunge over to the toilet, so huge that even an Olympic long jumper would be proud. I quickly dressed for the day ahead of me.
I swing open the front door. Close it behind me, jammed the keys into the keyhole, twist, and told myself, yes, you’ve locked the front door.
An annoyed face greeted me once I reach my workstation. My colleague, whose shift was supposed to end an hour ago.
“Sorry man. Traffic’s terrible today”
He scoffed. And then pointed to my face, and then towards the mask dispenser. Then marched off without uttering another word.
I quickly grabbed a mask, beating myself up for forgetting one of the most important things among others.
I signed myself in. Grabbed my kit, a walkie-talkie, and a baton. As I was about to sit, the double door flew open. The sound of a siren suddenly filling the room. A few doctors rushed to the entrance and then after a few muffled strict instructions, the doctors, 3 of them, carted a man through the doorway, rushing past me and then finally turning right to the emergency rooms. All the while setting up a breathing device on the man. Young man… I thought. Sad to see him struck with the disease at his age.
Scenes like these don’t surprise me anymore. Ever since the pandemic hit. Those doors have been swinging back and forth, nearly daily. Every time spitting in more patients to be housed in this building. There is news that the building’s filling up quickly. It’s only a matter of time that even the security room is going to be cleared to become another patient’s room.
This… I thought, is how the end of the world starts. Won’t be surprised if I see shambling corpses coming through the doorway next. I chuckled then quickly wiping that smile off. What an inappropriate joke.
Making sure that I have everything on me, I started my patrol route.
After about an hour of patrolling about, I decided to head back to my station to refresh myself. The hallways are getting quieter now. Normal, towards the night. A nurse is seen crouched down along the hallways, head buried between their arms. I sighed. Things are getting worst, aren’t they?
“Hey, you okay?” I asked, standing at a distance.
A sob and tissue wipe after, “Yeah. I… I just needed the rest from all this noise”
“You’re doing good work!”, I replied, trying to bring the atmosphere up a little. She replied with a shy smile. I made my way back to my station. A cushioned chair never felt so comfy after a good patrol. My phone found itself in my palms and I started scrolling through my socials.
It is now 10 PM. I have done a few rounds of patrol now. And normally, I don’t see many movements throughout the building at this time. But oddly though, there it was, the squeak of a well-used hinge, at the other end of the hallway where the entrance to the visitation lounge lies. A man, probably in his forties slides through. Well, okay, maybe entered carefully without trying to make much noise. Makes sense, at this hour. Though, we aren’t supposed to have visitors at this hour, pandemic or not.
I made my way towards the man. Halfway there, a nurse appeared from behind the lounge desk and greeted the man. There was a hush conversation that went on, and the nurse directed the man to the lifts with her right arm stretched out. Thinking that all is well, I retreated to where I came from.
“Must’ve been family” I muttered to myself.
A few days have passed. And tonight, is once again, my shift. I have made sure this time, I did my best to arrive on time. I went through the same routine. Sitting there looking at the door, spitting in victims of the disease and sometimes bodies. I shut my eyes. This is too much. All these sickness and decay. I’ll do a few hours of patrolling around the building. Helps me to put my mind on something else.
I was walking past the visitor's lounge now and my ears befell an idle conversation between two nurses.
“Yeah, been seeing the same guy. Going in and out”
“Oh, yea?”
“Yeah! Daily. Not once was this man absent. Everyday to the same floor. Same time!”
I noted that down in my mind. Could be one of those weird stories that doctors and nurses have. I mean, people do come up with weird stuff like these all the time when you work long enough at places like this. I snatched up my phone up and sat down. “Alarm, set at… what time was it again? 10….P…M….”
As the day winds down, the hallways too started to slow. Doctors and nurses continued their hard work behind doors. Some stayed along the hallways dazed in their tiredness from treating their patients.
And I’m there, with a vibrating phone in my hand. 10 PM. The door at the other end squeaks open and the same man, in his forties, appeared. The same man I saw from afar just a few days ago! He approached the front desk and the nurse nodded a few times and then directed him towards the lift. I waited for him to make his way up.
I turned the corner into the lounge and inquire about the man.
“Oh well”, the nurse clears her throat. “He’s one of the patient’s father” her gaze locked into mine. Her eyes twitched right and then back at me.
“Oh… so a family visit? But shouldn’t we be limiting them? You know, the pandemic and all”
“Yes. But see, this has been happening for the last week now. Ever since we receive this one patient. It’s been daily visits since then. Even though we told him many times that the disease is infectious” she looks worried now, no, more like freaked out.
“Could just be a really great father. Making sure he’s there for his son” I paused, and then continued “What room is this patient in anyways?”
“Yea. But daily? And not only that, the way he speaks as if he’s a recording machine. Every word. The same.”, she bends a little forward. “He might not be human” she hushed. The hair behind my back stood up. She quickly chuckled after looking at my worrisome expression. “I’m just joking… he’s probably a great father, with a whole lot of love for his son! And uh, I’m not supposed to reveal such information to you”
“Come on, how long have I been working here? You know me enough that I won’t go around sneaking in patients’ rooms!”
“Oh-kay….Oh-kay! Fine. BUT only because the man’s been acting all weird and you’re somehow very interested in all this, AND I’m very interested to find out the result” she sarcastically said. “He asks for the patient in room 213, young man…poor soul though. Don’t think he’ll be able to make it.”
“Thank you… And good to know that both of us share the same curiosity in this case. Wished I had a father like that though”. I wished her well and stepped away.
Things continued as they are. 10 PM, daily, the man in his forties comes by, go up the elevator and then leave 2 hours later. The question keeps popping up, why? What keeps motivated to come? Don’t he have work? Life to life? Then one day, he just stopped coming by. Again, why? The curiosity in me peaked and I approached the nurse and asked about the patient that the man was visiting. I found out that the patient managed to fight the disease and is going to be discharged two days later.
That night, I made sure that I cleared the other floors quickly during my patrol of the building. I brought along a bottle and a packet of bread with me, just in case if anyone asks, it’ll be a good excuse to have them as deliveries to one of the rooms, albeit by a security guard. I thought.
Room 213. I peek through the small glass hole in the door. A side table lamp is lit with a young man sitting on the bed reading. I look to my right and then left, making sure that the hallways are clear of any unsuspecting doctors or nurses. Then I entered.
“Hello…” I greeted quietly.
“Huh?” the startled young man exclaimed.
I in turn quickly held up my hands with the bottle and bread in. “Uh… I uh brought you something — extra from my dinner”, I stammered. Stupid me. That was such a terrible diversion!
“Thanks. But isn’t it way past dinner?” the young man asked as he puts down his book on the side table.
“Look uh, I’m sorry. This must be quite surprising for you, awkward even, but I’m here because I want to find out what happened to the man who has been visiting you” I find myself finishing the sentence with my whole body tensed up. Was that too forward?
The young man’s expression changed. He turned away. His eyes shut tightly. A stream of tears crawling down his cheeks. Tiny suppressed sobs can be heard. I’m now standing there, both arms out with bread and bottled water and a person is crying. What a scene, I thought.
“I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?”
“No — No you didn’t. Can you grab a tissue for me?” he pointed towards the side table. I quickly reached for the box of tissue and passed one to him. “That is — was my father. Hard. But a loving one”
I pulled up a chair beside the bed. “I’m so sorry”
“Our family got hit hard when the pandemic came. My dad was the breadwinner of the family. And when the pandemic hit, my dad got infected. We didn’t how infectious or deadly the disease was at that time. So we tried home remedies and such. Mum was taking care of him, so in time she has also gotten it. By the time we found out, it was too late for mum. Dad blamed himself for the longest time because of mum’s death” he held back his tears. “Then it got to me. Dad was angry. Angry at himself for not being able to provide and care for the family. Angry because he was the cause of death for the family. He succumbed, finally, but before promising me that he’ll do whatever it is to make sure I’m okay”
I was shocked. But I didn’t dare say anything. He pointed to the tissue box once again.
“The man that you saw, was my dad. At first, I didn’t believe it. How? I kept asking myself. But he never did explain it to me. Every time he comes in, he tells me stories, about his life, the family’s and how the future is bright for me. Told me not to give up like. And that he’ll be there keeping the disease away”, he uncapped the bottle and took a sip. “Every day he comes to keep my spirit up, without knowing that he’s slowly getting older. Like — like his life is slowly fading away from him”
I sucked in my lips and released a long-held breath.
“You know what was the weird thing?”, his head suddenly held up towards me. “He said that in the end, when I’m feeling better. I’ll be able to eat and drink properly. And he’s asked someone to come up and give me something to eat. A surprise supper.”
No way. No damn way. I thought. I chuckled, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. You’re saying that your father asked me to give you food? But — ”. I look like a fool now. My tongue caught. I don’t know how or what to think!
“Thank you,” the young man said.
“Huh? — Oh. You’re welcome. For the food I mean” I stammered.
“I hope you’re not too weirded out by this”
“What’s going to happen to you? Do you have anywhere to go?”
“Well, my aunt’s family’s coming by tomorrow. And we’ll see”
I smiled. At least that’s something of good news. And a good ending to his story.
I made my way back to my station. And as I put my things down on my desk I noticed a figure at the corner of my eyes. There was a sudden flash of bright light. I quickly glance up. And there he was. The man, in his forties… looks a lot older this close.
He smiles and holds up his bony right arm to wave. And he uttered these words before brightly fading away into nothingness.
“Thank you”
