Take a Cup of Kindness

If only there was something decent on the TV. It was the same novela that was on as usual at this time and he couldn't help but slowly get attached to the drama within. Aracely truly deserved Yenifer, but he definitely understood why she was secretly in love with Dora, whilst being married to Jeremías. It was a love pentagram? Thinking too much about it confused him but he enjoyed the distraction.

"I hope it will be calm today," Martin quipped as he prepared the cigarettes for the two of them.

"I doubt it. People overdo it this time of year," he replied, letting out a soft sigh "I mean I understand it, you're trying to purge the old year and old spirits, but can't they do it with something safer?"

"Like alcohol?" Martin laughed towards the first cigarette he completed, licking it softly along the paper to make sure it stays together and holds all the tobacco. Martin often felt like a cigarette, burning out slowly, some days faster. He stared at the cigarette for a moment before preparing the next one.

He nodded "Sure, alcohol. When we bring in people with alcohol poisoning it isn't as bloody. Pump 'em out and dump 'em before they can head out with a hangover into the new year. But destroyed hands? Ruined fingers? Remember that pianist from last year?"

Martin stopped preparing the second cigarette and rolled his eyes at Mohammed, or Mo for short "Mo, did you look him up?" Martin shook his head "I told you, don't do that. It gets into your head..."

"Yeah, it does," Mo stood up and his hand glided over his bald head, a movement reminiscent of his time when he had hair and would often do so.

"So, did you see what happened to him?" Mo continued, staring out the window at the vans outside, neatly lined up and prepared.

"No, Mo, and I won't. Don't tell me either, OK?" 

"OK, I won't," Mo stared out the window "but I dreamt about him yesterday. It's the time of the year. It just came back and it was all so vivid. Do you get them too? Those dreams?"

"I call them nightmares, Mo," Martin licked the second cigarette "and yes, we all do. It's part of the job."

Mo nodded "Yeah, I guess so. They kind of prepare you for it, but nothing really prepares you for it, you know?"

Martin sighed, took the two cigarettes and walked up to Mo "Of course, I know," he gave a weary smile "Now let's burn these and pretend not to know."

Mo took a cigarette and smiled as they headed out the door to have a smoke between the vans.

As they stood outside near the ashtray, by the vans, a pair of colleagues hurried out and they wished them luck. The van sped off, sirens silent but lights aglow as it disappeared down the hospital road into the night to save some poor soul or souls. In the distance fireworks intermittently went off. Some gave a sputter and sparkle, others exploded furiously and echoed into the night. 

"How is the family?" Martin quipped to bridge the silence.

Mo shrugged as he inhaled the smoke that eased some of the burden that they carried "Ah you know, at home watching some special,"

"They are that kind of people? I didn't know that still exists, sitting at home watching a show around this time of year," Martin's eyebrows arched as he continued to smoke, staring at a spot of spit that they would take turns enlargening.

"Oh yeah, every year. It's nice and quiet, you know? Not too many fireworks near where we live actually. Many old people, they like it nice and quiet. Sure, there's a few, but nothing like where my fiancé used to live. There they'd light everything up they could find. Sometimes even trash cans. It honestly got out of hand. I am glad she lives with me, though the nearness of my parents unsettles her at times."

Martin nodded "She at your parents now?"

Mo nodded. The conversation died out as quickly as it started, a one-sided firework that was launched into the air between them and produced a few sparks of light, but no real colour. On nights like these, their usual discussions of the intricacies of relationships in their own lives or the novella would occupy them. Perhaps some gossip about the nurses or the other drivers and medics, and the intermingling and everchanging dynamics thereof. Mo didn't like it but couldn't help himself gossiping at times. He never did at home, Aisha would shut him up about it right away and she was right, but it kept the flow of work easier. It made time pass and especially helped him not overthink what he might have to do tonight.

Yet it came all the same.

"Van 3, you're up," the soft voice came over their shoulder-height held devices, tightly attached to their jackets. Mo zipped his jacket up and Martin put out his cigarette.

"Alright, we're out, what do we have?" 

"It's a yellow, probably burns. Out by the town hall, sounds like some kids," the soft voice replied.

They boarded the ambulance and headed out, lights on and sirent silent. Mo and Martin nodded at eachother as they boarded the ambulance, silently satisfied that the case wasn't worse for now, but in the back of both their minds they knew they'd be out again the moment they arrived, as the clock's arms would hover past midnight on this fateful day.

The ambulance covered the distance with ease as they roads were void of life today, most people were in their homes or at pubs and parties, enjoying the revelries with friends and family, or neither, but out there all the same. So they too were out there, wandering the well-driven streets. Just before they arrived, the fireworks increased and expanded in a cacophony of beats and booms, as they seasoned the sky with all sorts of colours. 

"Lots of green tonight," Martin quipped as he steered the ambulance to it's destination. Mo said nothing as the radio silently chattered more and more. The flood of situations and emergencies increasing into it's own sort of fervor as it ramped up and spread out like the little embers of an exploding firework. 

"I hope we don't see a lot of red," Mo replied a few moments afterwards, cutting the silence before they would disembark to help the first patient of the new year. Martin smiled a tired smile, his eyes never not red with worry, and shook his head.

"Happy new year, Mo," as he hopped out and slammed the door shut. Mo spaced out for a moment and watched the fireworks above before he, too, got out. He sent a short prayer to his family and muttered under his breath "Happy new year."