Moral Short Story – The face of a Hero
Photo credit: bjwebbiz from morguefile.com
Faces, lots of faces, I could see them dancing in and out of my hazy view, it looks so foggy, like I’m trapped in a cloudy dream, but the sharp pain on my left shoulder blade reminds me that dreams, no matter how vivid, simply cannot be this painful! And dreamy clouds simply don’t sting your eyes till they are red and teary. Faces, I can pick out a few of them from the midst of all that smoke, as I feel myself being lifted onto a stretcher, being pinned down so as to render me immobile and safe from myself, moving and hurting my already injured shoulder. Safe, that is a funny word to be thinking about at this moment, I flash an untimely smile thinking of the irony, even as a worried looking face goes past, me being pushed through the open, waiting doors of an ambulance. Safe, a word not many people think about if they ever had a day such as this one. It was the day I almost died.
The clock on my night stand reads 06:02 AM and it’s screaming as incessantly as ever. I prop myself up on one arm and switch off the alarm. It’s as good a Monday as I’m ever going to get. I quickly clean myself up and make myself presentable to the general public before I begin my shift at work. Well placed, earning my own bread, and living independently. ‘Dreams do come true!’ I think to myself as I put on my boots, can’t help but smile at that thought.
As usual, I take the bus from my temporary place of stay, to the construction site which I’m currently supervising, the project undertaken by my company, a shopping mall. Like we don’t have enough of those! I am just about through the plans and schedule for the day on my Macbook as the bus arrives at my destination. The smell of earth and fresh concrete greets me as I enter the site, “Hey Phil! Over here!” I turn towards the source of the voice that calls my name, “Hi Ron!” I greet my fellow supervisor and friend from work. We engage in the usual chit chat and I update myself on the progress of the work underway before relieving Ron from his shift.
There seems to be a minor lag in the work, nothing I can’t manage. I call up the electrician to notify him that there has been a slight change of plans; I plan to run up the wiring schedule ahead in the west wing, since the east wing seems to have lagged behind on corrective works. I’m going to have to report that to my superior. The electrician and I reach an agreement and most of my mornings work is done and over. I look around my tiny makeshift cubicle that has a very good view of the construction site, since everything seems to be in order; I immerse myself in the reports that summarize the previous day’s work.
It has to be the most pleasant day I’ve ever had at work so far. Zero incidents, good weather and smooth going all around. As evening approaches, I pack up my reports and stuff them in my bag along with the Macbook, waiting for Ron to relieve me for the day, after waiting for nearly half an hour for Ron to arrive, my phone rings to life on the desk, “Hello?”
“Err.. Is this Phil?”
“Yes, and you are?”
“I’m Ron’s roommate”
“Is he alright?”
“He is down with the stomach flu, I’m pretty sure he can’t make it to the site.”
“Oh…” silence, “Err.. He says he’d be grateful if you could cover for him tonight” damn! The burden of making friends at work!
“Of course! I’ll cover for him”
“Thanks Bro!”
“Take care” line goes dead.
The “perfect” end to a perfect day! I convince myself that being sarcastic about it is not going to help, but still, I can’t help but smirk. As I lean forward to get my phone from the desk, I notice a small flash of light before me; I look more closely, there! A spark!
The south wing! It can’t be! I thought the welders had packed up for the day! I look at the sign-up sheet and there it is! They had signed out during the evening; no one else was assigned to the south wing! Especially since the wiring got messed up half way through. I see a longer flash now! My eyes frantically searching for the mains, as my mind formulates various scenarios that could have caused the spark. I see that the west wing has been lit up for a test run, immediately my mind rests on the most possible scenario, the worst! A new guy must have switched on all the mains instead of just the west wing! Anybody who has been here long enough knows that the wiring in the south wing is a mess and ought not to be supplied with power. I had long since told the electrician to disconnect it from the mains, but to no avail, time, it seems, is a valuable commodity and a simple disconnection appeared to be too frail a task for him! When this is over, I’m definitely kicking him out!
I rapidly make my way towards the main, keeping an eye out for the flickers that seem to be emanating from the south wing. I pull down the mains, cutting off power to the entire south and east wings. I know I am too late when I see that the flame seems to have a life of its own. I realize that the wing is already empty and the fire is in no immediate danger of spreading. So I make my way back to my office space quickly and order an emergency evacuation as per regulations and call in the fire department. I can see everyone making a dash for the exits and even more people gathering around the fences to see what has set the fire alarm blaring.
I notice an oddity in the flow of people, five workers in overalls seem to be running towards the fire, as they pass by my small box, and I hear a word that makes my heart skip a beat! Acetylene! The welders! They must have left their assigned acetylene cylinders in the south wing! I recollect having supplied them with six of those heavy cylinders, even as I look, the first of the five, reaches the building and enters the smoke filled door. I decide to do something that even takes me by surprise, I run to their aid!
“You are not the hero type! Run away from those darn cylinders!” my sub-conscious screams insults at me! But I know one thing for sure, if all those six cylinders were to blow up, about a 100 people surrounding those fences are going to be blown sky high! I simply run faster.
Even as I run towards the fiery building, I see four of the workers in overalls run out, carrying the heavy acetylene cylinders, panting. I can see that the first one who entered is way ahead and has already placed his cylinder behind a block of concrete and running back into the inferno. I run behind him, hoping to assist, when I am about 20 meters behind him, He turns back to see who has come to his aid, I can see a smile playing on his eyes and he raises his hands in an acknowledging gesture, even as my mind registers this fact and sends signals back to my lips to return the smile, all hell breaks loose!
A flash of light, a shuddering explosion, I can feel myself being lifted off the ground and thrown against something hard, my shoulder emits a loud crack! And I feel myself slip into emptiness, a smile and a waving hand imprinted on my mind.
I wake up from my cloudy dream, remembering flashes of what had happened after the blast. They had to fix my shoulder on the operating tables after pulling out several pieces of shrapnel. I remember the visit from my colleagues who were there during the blast. I could see it from their eyes how close I had been to death, and its cold embrace. I knew the answers to my questions about “the other man” even before I asked them. But I learnt something else entirely; I could sense their reverence to the man who saved their lives, a hero in dark times, one who put their lives before his, a man who could make out his true purpose in life’s rat race. And I knew at that moment why I had run to his aid, even when I knew I was not the bravest. It was because I had a rare opportunity to get a glimpse at the face of a hero.
A story by JHP
In memory of all those who have died in an act of bravery.
