The Unlovely One

15March2025

The night after the explosion still haunts me. I awoke to a harsh crack, the lights flickering, and a voice shouting my mothers nameVeraVladimirovnathough in my mind it was now simply MrsVernon, the nurse whod rushed us in. Pain throbbed along my spine, and a cold hand brushed my neck. I forced my eyelids open enough to glimpse a rectangular pendant, its surface engraved with zodiac symbols, and a woman in a white coat staring at me.

Into surgery straightaway! a voice commanded from the doorway.

Later that morning, my parents returned home. Mother bolted into the kitchen, peeking into my bedroom where I was trying to finish my maths homework. My father, David, entered and immediately sensed my gloom.

Whats the matter, Tom? he asked, ruffling my hair.

Nothing, I muttered, trying to sound brave for a Year4 boy.

He pressed, and I finally confessed, Its almost 8March. Our teacher held us after school and told us we have to make gifts for the girls.

Whys that a problem? Dad smiled.

Its not. Were all boys and girls, same number. She paired us up, and I got the notsopretty, Eleanor Erford, I said, sighing heavily.

Dad chuckled, Everyone wants a present on International Womens Day, even the ugly ones. How did she decide the pairings?

By zodiac, I replied. Eleanor is a Virgo, and the Taurus matches her best. Im a Taurus, so

He laughed louder. Well, if youre a perfect match, maybe youll fall for her after all.

I could barely believe it. Mother burst into the room, voice sharp, Whats going on in here?

Tom, go to the kitchen, Dad said, suddenly stern. We need to have a serious talk.

When she left, I asked, Dad, what now?

Make the gift, he said. Ill help you. Tomorrow at work Ill craft something for your chosen one.

How can you, Dad? You work at the factory.

Yes, in the galvanising department. We coat all sorts of metal there. Youll see tomorrow.

***

The next day, Dad brought home a goldcoloured pendant on a thin chain, its rectangle side engraved with Taurus and Virgo, the other side bearing the inscription:

To my classmate Eleanor, 8March. From Anthony.

It shone beautifully, especially when Mom slipped it into a clear plastic bag.

***

8March arrived. The teacher didnt bother with a lesson; she first accepted the gifts the boys presented and then announced that each boy should give a present to his assigned girl.

All the boys rushed to their chosen ones. I approached Eleanor, cleared my throat, and recited the line Dad had taught me:

Eleanor, happy International Womens Day! Perhaps one day the stars will bring a Taurus and a Virgo together.

I walked back to my seat, unaware that my heart had just leapt for this girl Id once called the ugly one.

Soon after, Eleanors family moved to another district, and she transferred to a different school in Year5.

***

The hospital wards white ceiling loomed over me as I stirred awake. My left arm twitched, the right remained numb. Where am I? I croaked, the words slurred.

A nurse in a crisp uniform leaned over the bed. Youre in the emergency surgery unit, MrGordon. All your limbs are intact, just wrapped up from head to toe.

Yes, I whispered, relief washing over me. So Im all right?

Your surgeon will check on you shortly, she replied, offering a comforting smile. Your mother called; shell be here when youre up.

Through tears, my mothers voice reached me. Tommy, love, are you alright?

Im fine, Mum, I tried to sound upbeat. They said only a few stitches, and Ill be discharged soon.

She warned, I cant stay the night, darling, but Ill be back as soon as I can.

A fellow patient, a young man named Gordonmy name, oddly enoughentered the ward. He clapped a hand on my shoulder.

Oi, Tom! Hows it feel to be alive? he joked, gesturing with his good left hand.

Just got my left hand back, I replied, halflaughing.

He told me about the blast at the galvanising plant where he worked. A balloon (they called them pressurised vessels) had exploded, and hed been one of the last to escape the inferno. He described how hed been covered in blood, how doctors rushed him out, and how a colleague had finally pulled him free.

Thanks for the story, I said, grateful for the distraction.

Later, a doctor in his forties entered, his face weary yet kind. How are you doing, hero? he asked, checking my vitals.

Fine, I answered. Whens the next operation? Im eager to get back to work.

He smiled, Youll be out of here soon enough.

***

Two days later, I tried to sit up. The pain in my legs persisted, my right arm remained swollen, and dozens of bruises mottled my body. The surgeon whod stitched me up the day before came for the routine round. She was young, poised, and wore glasses that gave her a scholarly air. Though I was 27, I was still marriedthough that marriage had ended six months ago due to clashing personalities and a salary dispute.

She greeted me, Good morning, MrGordon. Did I sew you up properly?

I think so, I replied, spotting the pendant around my neck. Eleanor Erford! I blurted, surprised.

She glanced at me, puzzled, Im sorry?

Im a Taurus, I pointed at the charm, and

She stammered, Tom Gordon? You remember me?

Yes, Eleanor, I said, placing a small flower on her hand. Im sorry. I never imagined wed meet like this.

She brushed away a tear, I never thought Id see you again either.

She left, and I never saw her return to the ward. Yet I understood her schedule matched mine: day 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, using the beds for support, venturing briefly into the corridor. Evening came, the dayshift doctor left, and the nightshift staff took over. The ward fell silent around ten oclock; the lights dimmed, and a soft sob echoed down the hallway. I followed the sound and found my former classmate, now a nurse, huddled over her hands, crying.

YouEleanor! I called gently, placing my arm around her.

She wept, I operated on a woman who fell under a car. Shes now in intensive care and wont survive. She has two children, her husband is here with her

I tried to comfort her, Weve both seen too many deaths. After twentyseven years in surgery, its still a shock.

She sighed, Im still single, living with my parents. Ive never married.

I laughed weakly, Were both twentyseven; the world is still ours.

A nurse shouted, MrsVernon, her pulse is dropping! and Eleanor rushed back to the ICU.

Sleep eluded me that night. In the morning, a nurse brushed my hair back and asked, Is the woman we operated on tonight still alive?

Alive, but in critical condition, I replied, surprised at my own composure.

***

Three weeks passed, my wounds finally closed. I saw Eleanor during her shifts; each encounter pulled me closer to her, though the emergency department wasnt a place for personal conversations. During a morning round, the surgeon announced, Tom, were discharging you today. He added with a grin, Youll be heading straight to the clinic afterward. Theyll decide if you need further care.

Can I start packing? I asked.

Yes, dont rush. The discharge papers will be ready shortly.

After the doctor left, I shaved, examined my reflection, and noted that the two small scars on my cheek added a rugged charm. I gathered my things and walked down the corridor, thinking, Shell finally see me.

A nurse handed me the discharge slip and said, Take care, Tom. Dont be a stranger.

***

I have a modest flat of my own, but I drove back to my parents house first. Mother had taken a few days off work, eager to see me.

My boy! she exclaimed, pulling me into a hug. Youre alive and well.

Weve got dinner ready. Look how thin youve become, she chided playfully.

Ive missed homecooked meals, I admitted, smiling.

She warned, Youll stay here until youre fully recovered and before you get married. Your rooms been waiting for you, so wash your hands first.

By evening, Id visited the barbershop, retrieved some clothes from my flat, and Mother helped me sort them out. Later, Dad came home from the plant. We all sat together, as we used to, talking until the small hours.

I fell asleep in my old bedroom, thoughts of tomorrow swirling: a visit to the clinic, a shift at the plant, and perhaps, later that night, a walk with Eleanor.

***

The next morning, I drove to the clinic. I spent the morning strolling between consulting rooms and, after lunch, returned to my shift at the galvanising plant. That evening, as I prepared to leave, Dad asked, Where are you off to?

Dad, remember back when I was in Year4 and you made that pendant for a classmate? I said.

Yes, for the notsopretty Eleanor Erford, he chuckled.

Ive never forgotten. You said I might fall in love with her. Well, shes now a surgeon, and she operated on me. She still wears that pendant.

He laughed, Seems your words came true.

Im going to see her, I declared.

Twentyseven years isnt a long time to start a life with the person youve admired since childhood.