A Night to Remember

Carl dropped onto the cold metal seat, weariness coursing through every sinew of his body. Though recently repainted Jelly Belly yellow, the seat was just as hard and uncomfortable as when it was gun-metal grey.

Sliding doors whooshed shut in an audible exhale. The train lurched forward, sucked into the black depths of the tunnel that ran for miles and miles beneath the busy metropolis. Straps, suspended from the ceiling, swayed as the train picked up speed, the car rocking back and forth, its soothing click-clack, click-clack, a rhythmic pulse that throbbed through the arteries of the bustling city.

Carl rested his head against the window behind him and closed his eyes. His legs ached from the ten-hour shift he’d just completed at New York Presbyterian Hospital. Five years overdue for retirement, Carl still walked those long hallways, answering buzzers, wheeling patients to X-ray, and assisting overworked staff with meal trays.

It’s not that he didn’t relish the idea of retiring, but his bank account wouldn’t sustain the cut in income. He’d tried to scrimp and save throughout the years, but the current economic climate wasn’t favorable towards retirement, at least for him.

A noise – almost like a mewling sound – caught his ear. He looked around the subway car, a microcosm of people of every size, age, and ethnicity crowded into one space. Eyes averted, shoulders slightly hunched, commuters kept their heads bowed over their phones, silently defending their personal space. For many, this was a mindless daily routine, a solitary trickle in a tide of humanity.

A couple of seats to the right of the doors, a man was bent over, whimpering softly.

Oh no, Carl thought. Not tonight.

After three months of hemming and hawing, Carl finally got up the gumption to ask his neighbor, Helen, out on a date. Ten years had passed since his beloved wife Lucy had died. He was finally at a stage where he felt he could offer another woman something more than a needy soul.

Their first date, dinner at Café Carmellini, was cancelled when Carl had to stay at work due to staffing issues. To make up for it, he’d splurged on a pair of tickets to Hamilton, knowing Helen liked musicals. Though the timing was a bit tight, he’d figured he could rush home, change out of his scrubs, and make it to the theatre with a half hour to spare.

“Ooh!” the man gasped.

Carl thought of the tickets lying on his dining-room table. He silently pleaded for someone to step up and deal with the crisis. Though several passengers were staring at the man, no one seemed to inclined to help.

“Ow!” the man cried out, clutching his chest.

Carl couldn’t ignore him any longer. It went against every fiber of his being. Jumping to his feet, he rushed over.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, crouching before him.

The man met Carl's gaze, his eyes pleading with him like an animal trapped inside a cage. “My chest,” he moaned, then collapsed against him.

“I could use a little help,” Carl shouted as he tried to prevent the man from falling.

He sensed her presence before he saw her: felt her warm breath on his neck, caught a whiff of lavender, heard the rustle of fabric as she leaned in to help brace the patient.

“Are we shifting him to the floor?” the woman asked.

Carl nodded.

Together, they lowered the unconscious man to the floor.

Carl checked for a pulse. Nothing. He placed his ear close to the man’s mouth. Nothing. Immediately, Carl began chest compressions.

“Someone call 911. Have paramedics meet us at the next stop,” he called out.

Carl’s job as an orderly only required a high school degree, CPR certification, and Basic Life Support training. But he had a good head on his shoulders and had witnessed enough traumas to know what to do in a medical emergency.

Carl glanced up at the woman assisting him. Her salt-and-pepper hair was cut blunt to her collarbone. Freckles dotted her nose and cheeks.

“It’s a good thing you were on this train,” she said.

“Let’s just hope we can save him.”

“My name is Edith, by the way. I—”

“Next stop, Seventh Avenue,” a robotic voice announced, cutting her short. “Transfer is available to the N, R, and W trains. Please stand clear while the doors open.”

“Someone pull the emergency lever the moment we pull into the station,” Carl called out as the train slowed and brakes screeched like a boiling kettle.

Carl braced the patient against the lurch of the train as they pulled into the station. The car doors slid open, belching out a stream of passengers hellbent on clearing out before first responders arrived. On the platform, a slew of commuters surged forward.

“Don’t let them get on,” Carl said, as he continued to perform chest compressions.

Edith positioned herself just inside the doors, her arms spread wide to block anyone from entering.

“Stand back, people,” she yelled, her voice carrying over the hustle and bustle. We have a medical emergency, and we need you to clear a path for EMS.”

The crowd recoiled en masse. She couldn’t have gotten a stronger response if she’d told them they’d found ricin on the train. A beefy man wearing a bright orange and yellow vest and an MTA cap pushed past her.

“What’s going on?” he said, his gaze landing on the unconscious man.

“Heart attack,” Carl responded. “We need medics now!”

It seemed to take forever for first responders to arrive, although in reality it was under ten minutes. Paramedics assessed their patient while Carl gave them a quick recap of events. One of the medics attached electrodes to the patient’s chest while the other set up the portable defibrillator.

“Stand clear,” one medic said before pressing the shock button.

Come on, come on, Carl silently prayed.

“We have a pulse!”

Carl let out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

The medics readied the patient for transport and whisked him off to the hospital.

Unfortunately for Carl, a police officer requested his name, address, phone number, and a statement for official purposes. Carl was about to catch the next train when a transit official pulled him aside and demanded the same information he’d just supplied to the police.

Once he was finally free to go, he called Helen.

“Where are you?” she said, a sharp edge to her voice.

A heaviness settled in his stomach. “I’m so sorry. I got caught up in an emergency. I’ll try to get there as soon as I can.”

Helen wasn’t readily appeased. She was waiting for him in front of the theater doors and greeted him with a tight smile. Though he tried to explain the reason for his tardiness, she was more interested in finding their seats. When he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, she shrugged him off.

After the show, he offered to take her to dinner.

“I think I’ll pass.”

Carl reached for her hand. “Look, Helen. I’m sorry I was late getting here. I know we missed part of the show, but it was beyond my control. I . . . For Pete’s sake, I saved a man’s life tonight!”

“I understand that,” she said, pulling her hand away. “It’s just that I can’t live with someone so unpredictable.”

“Unpredictable?” His brows knit together in confusion.

“Not you, per se. Your schedule. Your job. I left my husband for that very same reason. He was a brain surgeon and was constantly coming home late because of this or that. He cancelled our trip to Japan because his replacement broke a finger.”

A plethora of responses sprang to mind, yet he kept silent. It had become all too obvious to him that Helen wasn’t the person he’d thought she was.

“I’ll take you home then,” he mumbled, hailing a cab.

Carl’s discouragement following the breakup was overwhelming. He’d finally dared to open his heart up to someone only to have it crushed. The posters advertising the Hamilton musical hanging on the subway walls were a daily reminder of a profound disappointment of which he didn’t want to be reminded.

Nearly two weeks later, he ran into Edith. Or rather, she ran into him. He was riding the subway home, head resting against the window, eyes closed as he was wont to do after a long shift, when he heard a familiar voice.

“May I?”

He opened his eyes to see Edith standing there, pointing to the seat beside him. She wore a mint-green T-shirt and black yoga pants, mat tucked under one arm.

“Of course!” he said, sitting upright.

Edith slid into the seat and gave him a warm smile. “It’s good to see you again.”

Carl returned the smile. “Likewise.”

“You know, I keep thinking about that poor man who had a heart attack on board this train. He was lucky you were there and knew what to do.”

“You didn’t do too badly yourself.”

Edith gave him a questioning look. “Do you know if he made it?”

Carl knew the importance of patient privacy. The fact that the man was transported to the hospital where he worked added weight to the matter. Yet in the light of everything she’d done, Carl felt it only right to offer a measure of reassurance. “From what I’ve heard, he’s going to pull through just fine.”

Edith’s face broke into a grin. “That’s wonderful!”

They sat for a moment in companionable silence, basking in the pleasure of knowing they’d both contributed to something meaningful.

“Care to join me for a celebratory beer?” Edith said, turning towards him.

Carl hesitated, wondering if he had the energy to crack his heart’s door open again. Perhaps it was the warmth in her eyes or the shared experience, but he suddenly found himself softening toward this woman he’d only just met.

“I’d love to. By the way, my name is Carl. Nice to meet you.”