An Unexpected Hero

Submitted into Contest #48 in response to: Write about someone who always comes to the aid of others.... view prompt

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General

“Norah, sweetie” a weak voice rasped, “can you come to help me?” Norah gave a quiet sound of consent and rolled out of bed. She glanced at her clock and saw that it was six in the morning. Time made little difference to her because her mother’s cancer was not limited to the barriers of night and day.

Like a sleepwalker, she stumbled to her mother’s room. She had memorized the path it took to get there; she had taken it many times in the dark. She fumbled for the light switch and squinted as the light seeped into her eyes. She watched her mom silently, sighing. She looked worse than she had the day before. Her beautiful brown hair hung limply, all color lost. Her vibrant skin looked pale in the glaring light, and the bags under her eyes contrasted the deep green of her irises.

“I need water,” she mouthed, her lips chapped. Norah nodded and walked toward the kitchen and filled a mug with water.

Norah walked back to her mother’s room and Norah’s mother finished the water in one shaky gulp.

“Mom,” Norah whispered into her ear. “I made your lunch yesterday.” In one motion, Norah gave her mom a paper bag and kissed her on the cheek. “I should get ready for school now,” she told her mother. “Dad left a note on the counter saying he’d try to get home early today and have dinner with us.” Norah hesitated for a second before she added, “no promises.”

Norah stood up and made her way back to her room. She glanced at her clock and decided she had enough time to walk to school. She hastily packed her bag and changed her clothes, and she set off for school.

A little while later, she came across a man with dirty clothes shaking a cup. To most, the image would repulse them, but Norah was used to seeing people in the lowest state of their life when she took her mother to the hospital. She smiled at the man, and in return, he gave her a toothy grin. She glanced at her near-empty wallet and dropped in the few coins she had in his cup. “Good luck, mister,” she said.

“My name is Pete.”

“Well then, Pete. My name is Norah. Have a good day.”

A few minutes later, a dog runs up to her. “Hey, bud,” she smiled at the dog. She gave the dog a gentle pat and went on her way. later.  She arrived. The day passed with a blur, and Norah found herself alone in the hallway with the new kid, Will. She smiled at him and said goodbye to the few teachers still standing outside of their classrooms. She made her way outside and stopped when she noticed a girl in her gym class, Delia, walking a few feet behind her. She turned around and said kindly, “Hey Delia, how are you?”

The girl looked up suddenly, surprised that someone had spoken to her. Norah noticed that her face was stained with tears.

Norah frowned, “are you okay?” Delia shut her eyes in response and breathed heavily. Her posture slumped and her lips quivered.

“No,” she confessed. “I don’t think there’s anything left for me to live for.”

Norah frowned again at these words, but this time not in worry, but annoyance. She understood that it wasn’t Delia’s fault that she was having these thoughts, but Norah couldn’t help the twinge of anger that someone would throw their life away when her mother was trying so hard to stay alive.

“Let me show you something,” Norah said after thinking for a little bit. She jogged up the street, looking over her shoulder to make sure Delia was following. “I like to help other people,” Norah continued. “It makes me feel happy to know that others are feeling happy. Maybe you should try something like that.” Delia nodded hesitantly in response.

“Would anyone care to spare a dollar,”  a voice pleaded behind them. Norah recognized that voice to belong to Pete.

“I do,” Delia volunteered. She took out a crisp twenty-dollar bill and handed it to Pete.

“Thank you, miss.”

“You’re welcome,” Delia smiled. Norah and Delia continued down the sidewalk. “I think you’re right,” Delia admitted. She took a look behind her and saw the homeless man getting rejected by passing civilians. She frowned and explained to Norah, “I wish there was a way so that people without homes could get back on their feet.”

Norah shrugged. “That would be nice.”

Delia sighed and stopped. “This is my house.” She paused for a second. “Can I have your number?” she asked awkwardly. Norah consented and when the two went their separate ways, Norah chose to make a detour into the dog park.

She always had a special fondness towards dogs, they helped her calm down and she liked watching them play. Norah heard a quiet whimper behind her. She turned around and saw that it was the dog she had met earlier. “Bud, what are you doing here?”

Norah looked up and saw a poster bearing the dog’s face. Norah scrunched her face in confusion, then in worry. “Oh bud, what have you gotten yourself into?” She took a closer look at the poster and found neatly written scribbles, please call 714-555-8092. 

Norah rummaged through her backpack and gripped the edge of her phone. She punched in the numbers and the ringing of the phone was like a symphony. A heart broken voice groggily answered, “hello.”

“Good afternoo-”

“What are you getting at? It’s not a good afternoon, it’s a horrendous afternoon.”

Norah frowned at his voice but chose to forgive his rudeness. Grief would do that to a person. “Sir, I think I’ve found your dog.”

She was answered with a pause before a very watery voice shouted, “Demeter? Is it really my girl Demeter?”

“I think so, sir.” With a little laugh, she added, “I’m at the dog park. You better get here soon, she likes to run away.”

For the first time in their entire conversation, Norah could feel the man’s voice lighten and he even let out a chuckle.

“Okay,” he murmured and the phone cut off.

A few moments later, Norah heard a gentle gasp and turned around to find a small, rotund man jogging up to her.

“Thank you,” he grinned, running his fingers across the dog’s fur. He seemed lost in the joy of being reunited with his friend but he ultimately looked up and asked, “what’s your name?”

“Norah.”

“My name is Tony Richman,” he smiled. “Why do you look so forlorn,” he asked, noticing how anxiously she looked at her watch.

“I have to get home,” she explained, heaving a sigh. “My mother needs me, she has cancer.”

Tony was so touched with her story, he kindly stated, “Well I suppose a reward is due for the kindness you’ve shown Demeter and me.” Tony took out his checkbook and scribbled a sum that he tried to conceal from Norah. “Take care of your mother,” he said, handing her the folded check with a flourish.

“Thank you so, so much,” she gushed. She gasped as she looked at her watch. Her mother needed her now! Without so much of a goodbye, she ran out of the dog park. She huffed as she finally made it to her front steps. Taking a shaky gulp, she opened her front door. “Mom?” 

A weak murmur answered, “honey.”

“Mom, i’m so sorry I’m late. Today has been quite an adventure. I’ll tell you all about it one day. But for now,” she began. “You can finally get your chemotherapy done.”

Both of their eyes watered in disbelief as they saw the sum of money that was generously donated to her.

“$5,000”.

The true hero of this story is limited only to its perspective. Tony Richman was a hero to Norah and her dying mother. Pete was a hero because he gave Delia a cause to live for. Delia was a hero to Norah because she gave Norah what she so desperately lacked in her life, a friend. And perhaps Norah was the biggest hero in this story because though she faced her own problems, she worked hard to help others.

After Norah’s mother received her cancer treatment, she slowly regained strength and opened up the bakery she had long dreamed of owning. After Tony Richman met Norah, he was so inspired by her kindness and hardships that he decided to lend a helping hand to the homeless by opening up a shelter. When Delia learned about that place, she went on to volunteer at that shelter. When Pete finally settled into that shelter, he found an opportunity to express his love for baking and got employed by Norah’s mother. He soon moved out of the shelter and rented an apartment. Norah’s dad was able to come home for dinner everyday without worrying about living costs and poverty.

Always remember that you can be the hero in someone else’s story. Be kind to people and it will come back to you.

June 30, 2020 20:15

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2 comments

Celeste Frost
20:23 Jun 30, 2020

As someone who is an avid reader, I must say that this is really unique. It's an incredibly bold decision to try and put the message of the story so bluntly like that. It was very risky, but I must say that it added a lot of flavor to the entire story and I really enjoyed reading it. I almost noticed how you hardly used the word "said". It's really hard to find people who so willingly put diverse vocabulary in it. And I must say. that the imagery was incredible. I really felt like I was in the story. My heart broke for Norah, then Pete...

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Elora Wiesley
20:24 Jun 30, 2020

Thank you so much!

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