“Miss, please, when will the ambulance arrive? Her temperature is nearly one hundred and four, I can’t get it down…”
“All our units are out right now,” replied a tired female voice. “Please hold tight.”
Trying hard not to cry, Kate put the phone down and rushed over to her daughter. Little Sophie was lying on the sofa, covered with a light sheet and struggling to breathe. The five-year-old girl’s body was aflame with fever; her temperature stubbornly refusing to drop, inching closer to the daunting 104-degree mark.
The doorbell rang unexpectedly loud, jolting Kate, who sprang up and dashed to the door.
“The temperature’s coming down, the meds are working. The little one is wheezing on both sides. I’d recommend hospitalization,” a tall, gray-haired man said, wearily rubbing his nose while watching a young nurse pack a syringe away.
“Can’t we manage at home?”
“You won’t manage. We need to head to the hospital for observation.”
Kate, holding her passport and a bag of belongings, stepped into the hallway: “I’ll just get Sophie dressed and… Oh, who are you?”
A team of paramedics entered through the open door: a stocky, bearded doctor in his forties, a lean 32-year-old paramedic with glasses and a medical kit, and a freckled, red-haired junior doctor.
“Did someone call for an ambulance?” confirmed the bearded doctor.
“Yes, but… there was already another doctor here,” Kate said, confused.
“Another doctor?” the young junior doctor interjected.
“Yes… Tall, with gray hair. He got Sophie’s temperature down and said we need to go to the hospital,” she spoke, bewildered.
The doctor and the paramedic exchanged glances. “Simmons!”
“Two units sent for one call?” The junior doctor was puzzled.
The bearded doctor addressed Kate, “Get the girl dressed. We’ll take you to the hospital.”
Kate returned to the room. The bewildered junior doctor asked the lead doctor, “Are we not even going to examine her?”
“Simmons never makes a mistake!”
“Who exactly is Simmons?”
The paramedic chuckled, “Simmons was the most experienced specialist with us… was. They even tried to recruit him to London multiple times, but he always refused. Said his job was to save people, not sit in an office.”
“A year ago, Simmons’ team was heading to an urgent call. Some idiot decided to cut in front of the ambulance,” the paramedic paused, looking down. The bearded doctor patted his shoulder and continued, “No one survived that crash. Subsequently, strange things started happening in town.”
“A young lad got stabbed on the street. An anonymous call came into dispatch: stab wound to the liver. We were on duty that night. When we arrived, the lad was lying on the pavement with a bandage, and some guy was holding an IV. We asked who administered the first aid? The guy said, ‘The ambulance was just here, a tall, gray-haired doctor and a young nurse. They helped and set this up. The gray doctor said to hold it like this… I only looked away for a second, checked if the boy was breathing, and then you arrived. Where’s the gray doctor gone?’”
“We were chilled to the bone, because by the account, Simmons and his team gave the first aid. We took the lad to the hospital and noted in the file that first aid was provided before our arrival. We didn’t mention Simmons. It was later that people at the station started talking about him. We were in shock that day.”
“No one would’ve believed us anyway!” the paramedic smirked. The bearded doctor adjusted the stethoscope hanging around his neck and continued, “A few days later, a warehouse worker fell: stroke and head trauma. By the time our ambulance arrived, the ‘tall, gray-haired doctor and the young nurse’ had already provided first aid, set up an IV, gave oxygen, and diagnosed. ‘Then they disappeared into thin air.’”
“What about the birth at the traffic light?” the paramedic smiled, adjusting his glasses.
“Ghosts delivered a baby too?” the red-haired junior doctor asked incredulously.
“Watch your words,” the doctor frowned. “I’m not sure what the ‘Simmons’ team’ might now be, but they’re certainly not ghosts. More like the guardian angels of the town.”
“Sorry…,” the junior doctor blushed, his ears turning red. “So, what happened with the childbirth?”
“A taxi driver was rushing a woman to the hospital: she was thirty-four, having her second child, at thirty-nine weeks. He stopped at a traffic light, and she went into early labor. In a panic, he put the hazard lights on, called the ambulance but didn’t know what to do, running around the car and shouting for help. The dispatcher told him, ‘Sir, don’t worry, put your phone on speaker. I’ll walk you through it.’ But the guy was hysterical, unable to think straight.
“Simmons stepped in with his nurse. The baby was breech, with the umbilical cord wrapped around its neck. If they hadn’t been there, the baby wouldn’t have survived. The ambulance arrived shortly after and took the happy mother and her wailing healthy baby.”
“There have been countless such cases over the year. ‘Simmons’ team’ only shows up in the gravest situations. Without Simmons, none of those patients would have lived until the city ambulance arrived. It’s remarkable.”
“We’re ready.” Kate, holding Sophie’s hand, emerged into the hall. The bearded doctor took the bag from her and smiled at the little girl, “Everything’s going to be just fine now!”
