April17th 1999
The wards were silent, a muffled roar of machines and distant alarms. I felt a sudden, fierce pain behind my ribs, then the world went black. When the darkness finally gave way, a muffled voice called my name.
Andrew Gibbons, sir, theres been an explosion.
I sensed a hand gripping my neck, its fingers cold as the steel beside me. I forced my eyelids open; it was a struggle, but I managed. Before me hung a rectangular pendant, its surface engraved with the symbols of Taurus and Virgo, and a nurse in a white coat stared at me with eyes that seemed to pierce my very soul.
Straight to the operating theatre! someone shouted from the doorway.
My parents had just come home from work. Mother bolted into the kitchen, peeking into the study where I had been doing my homework. Father, David, stepped into the room and immediately noticed my downcast mood.
Tom, whats bothering you? he asked, ruffling my hair.
Nothing, I muttered, the fourthgrader in a voice that sounded older than my tenyearold self.
Spill it, lad.
Its almost International Womens Day. Our teacher kept us after school and said we have to make presents for the girls.
Ah, and whats the trouble with that? Dad smiled.
Its the same for boys and girls. Shes paired us up, and Ive got Emma Erford.
All the girls want a gift, even the ones who arent the prettiest, my father said, trying to sound wise. How did she pick? Alphabetical? By zodiac?
By compatibility, I sighed. Emmas a Virgo, and a Taurus is said to suit a Virgo best. Im a Taurus, so
Sounds promising. Maybe youll even fall for her.
Me? Emma Erford?
Dad erupted in laughter. Mother, Linda, burst into the room just then.
Whats all this? she asked.
Linda, go into the kitchen, Dad said, his tone suddenly stern. We need to have a serious talk.
When she left, I asked in a low voice, Dad, what am I supposed to do now?
Make a present.
What kind?
Ill bring you one tomorrow at work.
At the plant? What could you possibly make?
I work in the galvanising department. We coat all sorts of metal.
Its still a mystery to me.
Tomorrow youll see.
The next day David returned home clutching a goldcoloured pendant on a thin chain. One side bore the Taurus and Virgo symbols; the other was etched in delicate script:
For my classmate Emma, on International Womens Day. From Andrew.
It shone beautifully, and when Mother slipped it into a clear cellophane bag it seemed even more precious.
April8th 1999
The teacher didnt give us another lesson that day; she let the children hand over their gifts first. After a long thankyou, she announced that the boys should now present their presents to the girls.
Chaos erupted. All the boys rushed to their chosen ladies. I approached Emma, took a breath, and recited the line Dad had taught me:
Emma, happy International Womens Day! Perhaps one day fate will bring a Taurus and a Virgo together.
I said it, turned back to my seat, and, without noticing, I felt my heart skip a beat for the girl I had always thought unattractive.
Soon after, Emmas family moved to another borough, and she transferred to a different school in Year5.
May2nd 1999
I opened my eyes to the sterile white ceiling of the hospital ward. My left arm twitched; the right was still solid. I tried to sit up, but pain surged from my chest.
Where am I? I croaked, unsure whom I was speaking to.
A nurse in a wheelchair rolled over and peered at me. Youre in the emergency surgery ward, love.
My arms and legs are all intact? I asked, voice hoarse.
It looks that way, she replied, but youve got a lot of stitches from head to toe.
Thats good, if everythings still there.
A second nurse leaned in, concern soft in her tone. How are you feeling?
Whats happening to me? I asked, the question looping back on itself.
Nothing lifethreatening, she reassured, tapping the phone beside the bed. Your mother wanted to call as soon as you woke.
Through tears, my mothers voice broke through the monitor. My dear, are you alright?
Everythings fine, I forced a smile, they said only a few small stitches and Ill be out soon.
She whispered, I wasnt allowed to stay the night, but Ill be back as soon as I can.
I placed my phone beside me, tried to grin at the nurse, and muttered, Thank you.
She smiled back, Youll be discharged in a few weeks, love. Keep your chin up.
A man in the next bed, a fellow survivor, asked, What happened to you?
Im a rescuer. There was an explosion at the chemical plant where I workoxygen cylinders burst, fire, chaos. We were among three injured who made it out. I was the last to leave, and just as I reached the door another cylinder blew.
Its a fate, the nurse said, youll see a colleague soon.
Soon, a friend named Tom sprinted in, eyes bright.
Hey, Andrew! Howre you holding up?
My limbs are finejust cant wave properly with my right hand yet, I said, holding up my left fist.
Dont be a wimp! Tom laughed. What happened after the blast?
We were pulling each other out, I was covered in blood the doctors were already there.
Glad youre alive, mate.
He paused, then grinned, They might even put us up for medals.
The day I get out, Ill be free, I replied.
Tom left, and the doctor, a man in his forties, entered.
Hows the hero doing? he asked, tapping the chart.
Fine.
If you can talk, youll live. Let me have a look.
Are you kidding? Im the one you operated on, arent you, Dr. Vaughan? he said.
Exactly.
June1st 1999
Two days later my legs still ached, my right arm trembled, and I bore a dozen bruises all over. I stared into the mirror; my face was still swollen.
The doctor scheduled a routine checkup; it was the same surgeon who had stitched me up for five hours straight in the operating theatre.
She enteredyoung, stern, glasses perched on her nose, a crisp white coat that suited her perfectly. I was twentyseven and still single, though my marriage had dissolved six months earlier because of clashing temperaments and a modest rescuers salary that didnt please my exwife.
Good morning, she said, approaching my bedside.
Good morning, Doctor. Did you operate on me?
I did, she smiled. Alls well?
Absolutely, thank you!
She leaned over, and I saw the same pendant Id given Emma years ago, glinting against her neck.
Emma Erford! I blurted, startled.
She glanced at my swollen face, then at the pendant, and shook her head. Im sorry, I dont recognise you.
Im a Taurus, I said, pointing at the zodiac symbols.
Tom Gibbons? she whispered, her lips trembling. You still remember me?
Yes, I replied, and placed a small flower on her hand.
She dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. I never imagined wed meet like this.
Later that day she never returned to my ward. I realised her schedule was as hectic as mineday shifts, night shifts, and two days off. I didnt want to appear helpless in front of her. The next day I shuffled around the ward, leaning on beds, gripping the wall for support, and eventually made it to the corridor.
Evening fell, the dayshift doctor left, and the nightshift staff took over. A sudden clatter and hurried footsteps echoed down the hallwayanother casualty being wheeled in. Ten oclock passed, a nurse dimmed the lights, and I lay awake as the clock struck midnight. I heard soft sobs down the corridor, louder than the beeping monitors. I stepped out cautiously.
At the nurses station, my former classmatenow a senior surgeonsat with her head in her hands, crying. I placed a steady hand on her shoulder.
You alright, Emma?
She leaned into me, tears streaming. I operated on a woman who fell under a car. I did everything I could, but she didnt survive. She had two children, her husband is beside her now.
Take a breath, I urged. Ive been in the same place; I know it hurts.
She sniffed, Ive been a surgeon for three years and still cant get used to losing people.
Its part of the job, I said, weve both seen death, but weve also saved lives.
She sighed, My wife left because Im never home, moneys tight, and Im always exhausted.
Same here, I admitted, my ex said I never came home, I earned too little. Still, Im twentyseven; weve got our whole lives ahead of us.
She laughed weakly, Were only twentyseven, we have time.
Emma, her pulse is dropping, a nurse shouted, panic in her voice.
Sorry! Emma cried, rushing back to the operating theatre.
Sleep eluded me that night. In the morning the nurse gave me a comforting cup of tea.
Is the woman you operated on tonight alive? I asked, surprising myself.
Shes alive, but in critical condition.
July12th 1999
Three weeks passed; my wounds healed. I saw Emma during her shifts, and each time she passed my bed my heart tugged harder. The emergency surgery ward, however, wasnt the place for personal confessions.
During a morning round, the attending surgeon announced, Andrew, youre being discharged today. He added with a grin, Off to the community clinic, then theyll decide if you need more followup.
Can I start packing? I asked.
Dont rush. Theyll have your discharge papers ready shortly.
When the doctor left, I shaved, examined my reflection, and noted the two small stitches that now added a rugged charm to my face. The rest were barely noticeable.
I walked out into the corridor, feeling a surge of hope.
Shell be back! I thought, a smile breaking across my face.
A nurse handed me the discharge paperwork.
Good luck, Andrew! Dont be a stranger.
I moved back into my modest onebed flat, but I drove to my parents house first; Mum was waiting, tears of relief in her eyes.
My boy! she exclaimed, hugging me tightly. Youre alive and well.
We sat down to a homecooked meal. Youve gotten so thin, she teased.
Nothing beats my mothers cooking, I replied, grateful for the familiar taste.
She chided me, Youll live here until you get your act togethermaybe even get married. Your rooms still empty, so clean it up!
That evening I stopped by the barbershop, collected a few pieces of clothing from a drawer, and Mum helped me freshen up.
Later, Dad arrived from work. We all gathered around the kitchen table, talking late into the night as we used to.
I lay down in my old bedroom, the one that had watched my childhood grow, and drifted off, thinking, Tomorrow I need to visit the clinic, then back to the plant, and later maybe see Emma again.
August20th 1999
I went to the community clinic first thing. I wandered through the waiting rooms, then returned to my shift at the plant. By evening, I was ready to leave.
Dad asked, Where are you off to?
Remember that pendant you made for my classmate when I was in fourth grade? I said.
The one for Emma Erford? he grinned.
The one you said I might fall in love with? I recalled.
Exactly.
Emmas now a surgeon. She performed my operation, and she still wears that pendant.
His eyes widened. Well, look at that!
My dads words have come true. Im going to see her.
I felt a surge of optimism.
September30th 1999
Twentyseven isnt old, but its enough time to realise that love doesnt obey a schedule. I learned that a simple gift, a zodiac charm, can become a thread that ties two lives together, even after years of distance and hardship.
**Lesson:** You can never force a heart, but honesty, perseverance, and a little bit of fate will guide you toward the people who truly matter.