Oh, you wont believe the story Im about to tell you. It still gives me chills.
So, there was this little boy who rang me up, begging me to save his dying mum. We managed to save her, butheres the twistthe boy, little Tommy, whod called me? Turns out hed been buried a month earlier.
Im a doctor, right? Seen all sorts over the yearshappy, sad, downright bizarrebut this one? This one takes the biscuit.
Happened back at the start of my career, early 80s. Fresh out of med school, I got assigned to this little clinic in a village. Expected some run-down shack, but it was actually brand-spanking new. The team were lovely, dead welcoming. First week? Nothing out of the ordinary, just long hours.
That Friday, I went in early to sort paperwork before the rush. Receptionist, Sarah, wasnt in yet. Thenring, ringthe phone goes off. I pick up, and this young lads voice crackles down the line:
Dr. James! My mums really poorly! Its 11 Oak Lane. Please come quick!
Whats wrong with her? I asked.
Shes dying! he whispered, voice shaking.
Dying? From what? Call an ambulance!
No ones home but me. My sisters not back yet, he mumbledthen the line went dead.
I threw on my coat and bolted straight there. Door was ajar when I arrived. Hello? Doctor here! No answer. Inside, I found a woman sprawled across the bed, deathly pale, her hair a mess. Pulse weak but there. An empty pill bottle on the flooroverdose. Never dealt with suicide before, but time was ticking. I dialled 999 from the landline, did what I could until the paramedics showed. Told them shed misjudged her medsdidnt want her slapped with a psych referral.
As they carried her out, neighbours gathered. She gonna make it? one old dear asked.
Course she will, I said.
The old woman sighed. Must be her Tommy calling. Poor lad drowned. Been a month since the funeral.
I frowned. But shes got other kidsa boy and girl.
No, doctor, just Tommy.
Waitwhat? Whod called me, then? And who was this sister he mentioned? No time to dwellclinic was opening. Sarah nearly had kittens when I got back. Dr. James, whereve you been? I was worried sick!
I told her the whole thing.
I know that family, she said softly. Lydialovely woman. Took years for her and her husband to have Tommy. Then this happens. Her voice broke. Then she tilted her head. One thing, thoughour clinics not even hooked up to the phone line yet.
What? But the phones right there
She lifted the receiver. No cord. Not a single one.
My blood ran cold. So a dead boy rang a phone that wasnt even connected? Was I losing it? But Id spoken to him!
Later, I checked on Lydia at the hospital. Her husband gripped my hand, tears in his eyes. You saved her, doctor. But Lydia just stared blankly out the window.
Howd you know to come? she asked, voice flat.
I told her about the call. A tear rolled down her cheek. Tommy saved me.
I squeezed her hand. He wants you to live. He even mentioned a sistermaybe theres hope?
She shook her head. Doctors say I cant have kids now.
Left her sobbing. Didnt visit againit felt like my presence hurt more than helped.
Five years later, mid-winter, a knock at my office door. In walks Lydia, glowing, her husband beside herand a little girl, about five, clinging to her skirt.
Doctor, meet our daughter, Emily. The kid peeked at me shyly. Lydias hand rested on her swollen belly. You saved me. Without you, Id never have been this happy. After the hospital, we went to an orphanage. Emily was on the steps, like she was waiting for us. Thats when I knew why Tommy wouldnt let me go. She patted her bump. And then well, miracles happen.
Years on, I still wonderwhy me? Whyd that little boy pick *me* to call from beyond? Some things, I reckon, were just not meant to understand.
