A flash A loud bang Darkness Darkness
At last, the darkness began to fade. A voice reached him:
“Dr. Eleanor, its the rescue teamsomething exploded there.”
Through the pain, he felt a hand touch his neck. He tried to open his eyes, managing only with great effort. Before him dangled a rectangular pendant, engraved with zodiac signs The eyes of a woman in a white coat
“To surgery!” a voice called nearby.
His parents had just returned from work. His mother hurried to the kitchen, peeking into the room where her son was doing his homework. His father, William, stepped inside and immediately noticed the boys mood.
“Oliver, whats wrong?” His father ruffled his hair.
“Nothing,” Oliver muttered.
“Come on, out with it!”
“Its nearly Mothers Day. The teacher kept us after class todaysaid weve got to prepare gifts for the girls.”
“And thats a problem?” His father smiled.
“Theres an equal number of boys and girls. She assigned who gives to whom.” Oliver sighed. “I got stuck with the plain oneEleanor Whitmore.”
“Every girl wants a gift, Oliver, even the plain ones,” his father said, speaking to him like a grown-up. “How did she assign them? Alphabetically?”
“No, by zodiac signs.”
“By what?” William chuckled.
“By compatibility. Eleanors a Virgo, and Virgos match best with Taurus. And Im a Taurus.”
“Thats good, isnt it? Maybe youll fall for her someday.”
His father couldnt help but laugh. His mother rushed in.
“Whats going on in here?”
“Sarah, back to the kitchen,” William said, suddenly serious. “Oliver and I are having an important talk.”
Once she left, Oliver asked glumly, “Dad, what do I do now?”
“You make her a gift!”
“What kind?”
“Tomorrow at work, Ill sort it out.”
“Dad, what can you make? You work at a factory.”
“Exactly! But I work in plating. We coat metalsall kinds.”
Oliver frowned. “I dont get it.”
“Youll see tomorrow!”
***
The next day, his father brought home a pendant on a delicate chain, gleaming like gold. One side bore two engraved zodiac symbolsTaurus and Virgowhile the other read in neat script:
*”To my classmate EleanorHappy Mothers Day! Oliver.”*
Oh, how it sparkled! And when his mother wrapped it in a little cellophane bag, it looked even more splendid.
***
The day arrived. Their teacher skipped lessonsfirst, the students presented her with a gift. She thanked them warmly, then announced the boys should hand their gifts to the girls.
Chaos erupted. The boys rushed to their assigned girls. Oliver approached Eleanor and recited the words his father had taught him:
“Eleanor, happy Mothers Day. Maybe one day, fate will bring Taurus and Virgo together.”
Delivering the line, he turned away, missing how the “plain girls” heart fluttered at his words.
Soon after, Eleanors family moved, and she transferred to another school.
***
Oliver opened his eyes. A white hospital ceiling. He tried moving his limbsonly his left arm obeyed.
“Where am I?” he mumbled.
The tap of crutches approached. A fellow patient leaned over his bed.
“Awake, mate? Youre in emergency surgery.”
“Are my arms and legs still there?” Oliver whispered.
“Seems like it,” came the cheerful reply. “Just bandaged head to toe.”
“Thats something, at least.”
A nurse stepped in. “How are you feeling?”
“What happened?” Oliver asked instead.
“Youll live. Arms and legs still workjust a lot of scars.” She handed him a phone. “Your mum wants you to call.”
“Sweetheart” His mothers voice trembled.
“Mum, Im fine. They said just a few scars. Ill be out soon.”
“They wouldnt let me stay overnight. Im coming now.”
“Dont worry!”
Hanging up, he smiled weakly at the nurse. “Thanks.”
“Dont get ahead of yourselfyoure stuck here three weeks at least.”
“What happened?” his roommate asked once they were alone.
“Im a rescuer. Oxygen tanks started exploding at the factory. We got there firstthree injured inside. Flames everywhere. We carried them out I was last. Thenbanganother tank blew. Dont remember the rest.”
“Rough luck.”
“Oliver Grant?” The nurse called. “A colleagues here.”
A friend appeared. “Blimey, you look rough!”
“Still got all my limbs!” Oliver grinned. “Can only shake with my left, though.”
His friend scoffed. “Youll manage.”
“What happened after?”
“We were nearly clear when it blew. Dragged you outcovered in blood. Docs were already there.”
“Cheers.”
“Oi, dont thank metheyre putting us up for medals!”
“Hope Im out by then.”
“Right, Im off. Rounds are starting.”
No sooner had he left than the doctor arriveda man in his forties.
“Welcome back, hero.” He checked Olivers bandages. “Talkings a good sign.”
“Did you stitch me?”
“No, Dr. Eleanor did. Shell check on you soon.”
***
Two days passed. Oliver was trying to stand, though pain shot through his legs. His right arm was shredded, his body a patchwork of wounds. His face, still swollen, bore two scarswhere the blast had thrown him into a gate.
Today, the surgeon whod spent hours repairing him would make rounds. He was nervous.
Then she enteredyoung, slender, glasses perched on her nose, a white coat draped over her shoulders. At twenty-seven, Oliver had been married oncehis ex-wife couldnt stomach a rescuers pay.
“Good afternoon,” she said, approaching his bed.
“Hello. You stitched me up?”
“I did.” She smiled. “Something wrong?”
“Just wanted to say thanks.”
She leaned closerand there it was. The pendant.
“Eleanor Whitmore!” he gasped.
She studied his bruised face, uncomprehending.
“Sorry?”
“Im the Taurus.” He pointed to the pendant.
Her lips trembled. “Oliver Grant? You remember me?”
“Course I do.” Seeing her tears, he squeezed her hand.
“Sorry.” She dabbed her eyes. “Never thought wed meet like this.”
She didnt return that day, but he learned her scheduleday shifts, nights, two days off.
He hated feeling helpless before her. The next day, he forced himself to walk, gripping beds and walls until he reached the corridor.
That evening, as shifts changed, chaos eruptedanother emergency. By midnight, quiet returned. Then, faint sobs.
Oliver crept out. At the nurses station, Eleanor sat with her head in her hands.
“Hey,” he murmured, touching her shoulder.
She looked up, then buried her face against him. “I lost her. A car hit hertwo kids at home. I tried everything”
“Shh.” He held her. “We see too much death in our jobs.”
She wiped her eyes. “Three years as a surgeon, and I still cant get used to it.”
“Neither can I. My wife left because of itsaid I came home hollow. But we save lives too.”
“Same here.” She managed a weak smile. “Men think Im mad. Still live with my parents.”
“Twenty-sevens young. Plenty of time.”
A nurse burst in. “Dr. Eleanorher pulse is dropping!”
“Sorry” She bolted.
Oliver didnt sleep that night.
***
Three weeks later, his wounds healed. He and Eleanor crossed paths during her shifts, and each time, he felt the pull stronger. But emergency wards werent the place for personal talks.
Finally, the doctor discharged him.
As he packed, he studied his reflectionthe scars didnt mar his face; they added grit.
At his parents, his mother fussed. “Youre staying till youre back on your feetand married!”
That night, in his childhood room, he lay awake, planning.
***
The next day, after clinic visits and a shift check-in, he faced his father.
“Dad, remember that pendant you made me in Year Four? For plain Eleanor Whitmore?”
“Vaguely.”
“You said I might fall for her someday.”
William chuckled. “Did I now?”
“Well shes the surgeon who saved me. And she still wears that pendant.”
His father whistled. “Bloody hell.”
“Dad, you were right. Im going to her.”
***
Twenty-seven isnt too late to start a life with the right person. Sometimes, the plainest gifts
