The smell of rice and curry whistled into Tahira's nostrils. Given a plate of each serving, the food was piping hot on the tongue when she took a spoonful. The pieces of meat and sauce mixed with the rice gave a heightened taste. It was superb and delicious to enjoy.
She shared her plate with Sweetie. At first, they were given each plate of curry, but Sweetie withdrew her plate for no apparent reason. When Tahira tried to feed herself, she still didn't want to, keeping her mouth closed tight and shaking her head left and right.
"Mmmhhhh, so good," Tahira exclusively exclaimed cutely in front of Sweetie while they were seated at the table. Her idea is to make sure that the food is good for consumption so that Sweetie would want to eat it as well.
She dug into the curry again and pulled a spoonful. She then gave it to Sweetie. "Here you go," she said. Sweetie protruded her head forward and devoured the first bite. 'It worked.' Tahira proudly nodded.
She continued to feed Sweetie, one spoon at a time, until she was full.
Aside from slow and simple, Liney didn't have a problem; on the contrary, she was the first to dig in. Tahira checked on her, and her eyes fell in dread. Liney finished her plate in a matter of seconds, but what shocked her in amazement was the second plate she was chowing on.
The girl's manners at the table displayed rudeness and injustice. Tahira was about to punish her, but unfortunately for her, she never got the chance. Maris got there first, "Who wants more?" She asked around.
There was no answer, except a hand that was raised. It was Liney fluttering her hand for a third serving.
She described it in one word: Unbelievable. She knew food was scarce when they were still in the city, so food packs or cans had to be regulated. Despite regulations, a pack or a can always go missing from the kitchen shelves, even in the fridge, and things are moved elsewhere from their original places. And the person who was responsible always pointed to Liney. Her hunger exceeded that of hers and Sweetie.
'Why do you have to be so hungry? Do you have no respect?' Tahira watched her as she ate mid-aggressively.
After a while, she turned around, paying little attention.
'But then again, who am I to judge?' Her hands halted. 'These people are giving us nice food; food that we had the liberty of having once in a while. And yet, we get to taste it.' She sadly remembered their time back in the City, striving to survive and thinking maybe, if maybe, death was the right choice.
She stared at the table hopelessly. Her mind is completely blank.
"Tahira, are you okay," Maris asked her.
The sole words from Maris took Tahira off her guard. "Gah." She turned and saw Maris. "Yes, Yez. I'm alright." Her words are deconstructed.
"Will you be eating your food?"
"Oh yes, I will. After feeding Sweetie, I'll have it."
Maris hushed.
"Well, it's up to you."
"And your sister there seems to be enjoying herself." She hid her laughter happily.
Back to Liney, Tahira was quite ashamed of herself. "I'm so sorry for her behaviour, Ma'am...her hunger can be surprising."
"You don't have to apologise. It's fine."
Tahira blinked her eyes twice.
"You and your sisters must have been out there for a while."
"Yeah," Tahira sighed.
"...But anyways just take your time. If you're hungry, just raise your hand."
Maris left Tahira be. Tahira then went back and got back to feeding Sweetie, and no more than 30 spoonfuls of curry, the little girl's hunger was satisfied. After she finished, Sweetie just wandered off.
It was then that her stomach started to grumble, so she unsealed her plate that she had put aside with a bowl, picked up a spoon of her own and began eating, filling her starving hours of pure torment.
But one thing was missing as she looked at an empty seat next to her.
'I hope he'll be alright.' She muttered her thoughts.
~~~~~~
It was just another day for Doctor Elset. He manages a small pharmacy. It's not the best in town, but it serves its purpose.
Since that incident that changed the town forever, he's taken charge of looking after and maintaining the pharmacy and the clinic, with a few helpers as well. But today is just him.
With a pen and a notepad, he checks each medicine on the shelves and writes down the names, making a list of the number of available resources. To his dismay, he finds that not much is left - most especially the ones that the people need.
"We're out of supplies," he unknowingly grunts. He expected it.
The town isn't well-known in the modern day, so people or newcomers don't know if it existed or not. That meant businesses with the outside were only a rare sight. However, because the doctor operates a pharmacy and clinic, he has his connections, and every month or so, a delivery truck comes by just to resupply the pharmacy with essential materials. But that was before the incident.
Just as things should have worked out after the incident, the delivery truck never came. It was usual for the truck to be late. The doctor waited hours and hours, and yet, it never came.
It's been 6 months since all that drama happened. Faced with uncertainty, the doctor thinks of ways to go around this obstacle. 'Maybe it is not too late, but I'll have to talk to the mayor and the other residents to pile everything into one room. That way, we know what's there and how effectively and efficiently to use it.' He suggested.
After taking the necessary steps to make minor adjustments storage room, Dr Elset walked out of the room and shut the door before safeguarding the door with a specially-made key uniquely compatible with the door lock.
'I should also follow up with my other colleagues, and see how they are how they are doing.' He thought as he walked away with silent footsteps on the marble floor.
Soon to be out of the clinic as he neared the entrance/exit, an individual with a muddy-textured buttoned shirt and long pants entered before he could.
"Mr Elset are you there?" The mysterious person said.
When the Doctor looked up he was intrigued as to why this person was here of all places. He pointed out, "Melina? What are you doing here?...aren't you supposed to be helping with Mother Maris."
Melina wasn't the brightest to answer but laid out her words sincerely, and apologetically if she might have interrupted the doctor.
Her tilting head as well as her body at an angle, simply bowing in front of the doctor. "Sorry to disturb Mr Elset, but Mother Maris has sent me an urgent request that she said you'd be the best person to handle it." She said.
Hearing the name of Mother Maris, he couldn't help but think why she would need his help. He looked at Melina again and entertained her request.
"Raise your head," he said lightly. "Alright then, then tell me what Mother Maris needs of me." His voice lengthens as if he was bored for even asking.
It didn't take longer before a shadow showed itself when it crept onto the marble floor and showed a man much taller than Melina herself. It was none other than John.
"Melina who is this?" Doctor Elset asked. As though the individual was intimidating to his face alone.
"I'm afraid Mother Maris didn't give further details," Melina tried to explain. "She told me to bring him to you."
"Alright, you may leave."
"Thank you very much." Melina left as she sprinted off.
Doctor Elset observed the individual with sharp and focused eyes for some time. He looked at the face and his clothing. He couldn't pinpoint who this person was exactly. Throughout his life, spending it in this small town, he's met and made a lot of the folks around town. When he came from the city, he wanted to live a life somewhat old-fashioned. While at the town he assigned it his mission to get along with the people there and familiarise himself with his new home.
"So," Doctor Elset asked with a nonchalant pause, ".....what can I do for you?"
Doctor Elset watched as John walked slower than usual. But just as he was about to reach the doctor his legs had a sudden surge of pain and he collapsed to the floor.
"Are you okay!" The doctor freaked out. The doctor ran to him and lowered his posture.
What happened?
Dr. Elset observed John closely as he attempted to stand up. When John rose, he could only balance on one leg, while his other leg, which seemed to be injured or weak, remained limp and unsupported.
The doctor was unsure of the cause of John's leg condition, initially thinking it might have been caused by a simple slip. However, Dr. Elset, experienced in discerning whether a patient's symptoms are genuine or exaggerated, could immediately tell that John's condition was serious.
Without a moment's hesitation, Dr Elset quickly moved to assist John, placing his arm gently over his shoulder. "Take it easy, let me help you," he said reassuringly. With the utmost care and attention, Dr. Elset guided John towards the nearest emergency room, making sure to navigate the path as smoothly and safely as possible.
Emergency room number 104
Inside the small but well-equipped room, Dr. Elset instructed John to lie down on the bed. The space was compact yet complex with various tools and equipment. He sat on the bed.
Before John could lie down, Dr. Elset needed to understand the nature and source of his discomfort. "Can you tell me where exactly the pain is coming from?" the doctor asked, seeking to pinpoint the issue for a more accurate diagnosis.
John indicated his left leg as the source of his pain. Carefully rolling up his long pants, he revealed a swollen and discoloured area on his left leg, marked by a deep purple bruise.
The Doctor was taken aback by the severity of the injury. It was the first time he had encountered such a pronounced and alarming bruise on a leg. With a grave expression, he nodded slowly, clearly concerned about the extent of the damage.
"Alright, lie down on the bed," the doctor said.
Doctor Elset pivoted on his heel and approached a nearby table, his deliberate stride reflecting a sense of focused intent.
The table was equipped with a sparse array of fundamental tools and medical treatments meant for John's care. Yet, an unsettling sense of inadequacy lingered; the assortment seemed insufficient for the task at hand. Additionally, the absence of Doctor Elset's uniform and glasses only deepened the sense of unease, as these were essential markers that put him in the shoes of a professional.
"Huh," the doctor muttered, his face creased in a frown, his voice tinged with a restless, uncertain edge. His flat hands clenched into fists, placed on the table surface, the tension palpable as he tightened his grip.
He thought to himself, 'I left my uniform behind.' His Frustration is evident in the silent acknowledgement.
He turned back to John, who remained seated on the bed, and said, "I'll be right back. Just wait here for me." With that, he turned on his heel and swiftly entered a room connected to the emergency ward.
It took a while for the doctor to get ready, but as he did he talked to himself in his head, making a deep analysis just from the glimpse of the swelling on the leg.
'Discolouration on the leg, purplish and reddish on either side...' He changes his shirt for a suitable one.
'...Smelling happens after two days.' he puts on his white coat.
'No signs punctured skin from the bones, so in this case....it's a partial fracture.' He puts on his glasses.
'Recovery result: Medium.'
Not long afterwards, Doctor Elset returned to his patient.
"Alright, as we were, lie down on the bed so that I can examine your leg." He said but his patient, John, didn't do as he followed. He reached out to Doctor Elset and gave him a small notebook with some writing scribbled on it.
"What's this?" He asked confused when he was handed the notebook.
The doctor looked at him strangely and then read the notebook.
[It is a pleasure to meet you, doctor. The swelling happened when I fell from a high place and thus I heard a crack. I wrapped it in bandages and after 2 days of coming here to the town, it only got worse. John]
'2 days? Wait....coming to town?'
Having read the notebook, the doctor didn't know they were having visitors over. "Excuse me,..John, right but it says you just arrived." John gestured.
Doctor Elset is overwhelmed, only a little bit. He didn't know anyone was that intrepid. Some of the people of the town went on a drive to the next town, and only after some time, did they never respond or come back - as they were pronounced dead by standard issue. So the next best thing the locals came up with was to stay within the town, and hopefully, even the slightest, pray that help arrives to them on time. And as per usual, the town ran like it was yesterday with some minor alterations just to keep the town at bay from going peace-loving to insanity.
"So there are more of you?" John nodded his head and reached for the notebook.
"Oh," Doctor Elset consented jocundly. He gave John the notebook. When John got it back he quickly wrote something else and gave it back again. It read.
[Yes, we are few. Mother Maris said to look after them while I came to you] The doctor smiled, not so much that it was shown.
[I also have a throat disability that allows me little to no less communication. I apologise. If you're alright with it, hand-sign and this notebook is what I'll use]
"You have a throat problem....." Doctor Elset mumbled stammeringly.
In the patient's response, he nodded - yes. He faced the floor, disheartened, but also knowing that it was a fact about him that he had, and lived with it ever since.
The doctor felt like his heart was displaced. Then, on impulse, the doctor had forgotten the first thing when admitting his patient. Introducing themselves.
"I-I'm Doctor Elset!" He blurted. "I'm so sorry for the late introductions," he bowed.
Startled, John didn't expect the doctor to be formal. He found it, unreasonable, funny, and unnecessary. But at least it brought a minor smile to his face, yet his upper face still looked pale in comparison. John then moved to the side of the bed and lay down.
Doctor Elset pivoted to a chair and wheeled to examine John's leg. As Doctor Elset examined the injury further, he concluded his findings.
"Well John, your injury doesn't seem to be that severe. By the look of it, it's only a partial fracture - a crack on the bone - but nothing serious. The best thing I can do now is disinfect the affected area and treat it, then cover it in bandages specially made for these conditions."
From there, Doctor Elset began his expertise.
While the doctor did his job, John had to quell his pain and resist the tension put on the injury. It hurt - enough for someone to groan - so he endured it until it passed. It only took half an hour and the treatment was finished.
"Alright, we're done," the Doctor commended John for his pain tolerance.
John, aware at last, could finally move. He sat up and inhaled in and out.
"Your leg should heal within 2 weeks or so. From then on, it is best to take it easy," Doctor Elset said, standing near John just beside the bed.