The Final Request

Final Request

No, Im not going home again Tom groaned quietly, writhing in pain. And Ill never see Emily again. I was going to propose, and now I never will… Why did this happen to me?

Dont worry yourself like that, the nurse smiled softly, noticing how pale the paramedics young patient had grown. Everything will be all right, youll see.

I doubt it Tom choked out, a cloud of dread settling over him as doctors prepared him for surgery. He watched them in silent terror.

*****

Tom had always hated hospitals.

Hed loathed them since childhoodevery visit left him in tears, and no one had ever bothered to apologise for causing him such emotional torment.

Oh come now, dont be such a baby, Tommy, a nurse teased as she pricked his finger for a blood sample. Youre a big boy now, starting school soon, arent you ashamed to cry like a little girl?

But Tom just sobbed and tried to wriggle away, watching her through blurred eyes, because he couldnt escape the treatment room. He wasnt ashamedhe hurt, and he was angry.

Whenever Mum walked him home from the surgery, Tom always declared hed never, ever set foot in a hospital again.

Id rather die than go back! hed say so dramatically that even his mother had to smile.

Oh Tom, dont say that, shed try to reason with him. Doctors do their best, love, so people can stay well and live a full life. Theyre the good guys, you know. You dont need to be scared.

Good guys, sure Tom would sniff, glaring at his finger, as if it still throbbed from being squeezed of half his lifeblood. Let them treat themselves, but leave me alone!

And you can imagine how he screamed the next time his parents dragged himkicking and protestingto the dentist to have a tooth out. His cries could be heard down the street, through the closed windows.

Not the best of memories.

Tom had grown up swearing off doctors, and as an adult, he dodged anything remotely medical whenever he could.

Yet, fate works in mysterious ways. One unlucky evening, Tom found himself being rushed to hospitala nasty bout of appendicitis. The pain hit him so hard that Emily, with whom Tom had made dinner plans, could only call the ambulance.

Dont call an ambulance. Itll pass… hed begged her.

Dont be silly, Tom, look at you! It sounds like appendicitisIve had it and this is just the way it started.

So, against his protests, Tom ended up at Queens Hospital, Room 314.

Needless to say, his spirits sank, imagining surgeons rummaging about inside him. When he saw a pair of sombre porters wheeling away a patient covered by a sheet, a wave of doom settled over him.

Thats it, Ill never go home, Tom groaned, sweat on his brow. And Ill never see Emily. I wanted to proposenever even got the chance. Why me?

Dont work yourself up, the nurse repeated gently, noticing his panic.

Ive seen enough hospitals to know I wont walk out of here…

Nonsense. Appendicitis is straightforward, and you made it here in time. Left any longer, and there couldve been complications. But youre in good hands.

And, indeed, the operation went smoothly.

It was all over before Tom had a chance to panic againone moment he was drifting off in the theatre, the next, waking up in his hospital bed, all the horror behind him.

He slept like a log, surfacing only when nurses changed his IV, then falling straight back into deep slumber.

By morning…

Tom discovered he now shared his ward with an elderly man.

Just what I need, he thought grumpily. Hell probably chew my ear off, telling stories from the war and the olden days.

He didnt feel like chatting, not at all. All he wanted was peace, silence, and to be left alone.

He didnt even ring Emily, just sent her a quick messageAlls well, no need to worryand shoved his phone under the pillow, feeling sorry for himself and the whole botched proposal.

Hed lived with Emily for more than a year, and last night was meant to be the night. Hed reserved a table at their favourite restaurant, asked the pianist to play Cant Help Falling in Love, and slipped a ring to the waiter to serve atop a dessert.

Everything was meant to be perfect.

But life had different plans. Now, instead of celebrating with his girlfriend, Tom found himself in bed beside a stranger.

To Toms surprise, the pensioner kept mostly to himself. He greeted Tom politely, then returned to fiddling with his old brick of a mobile, muttering under his breath when his call went unanswered.

He called and called all day, until his phone died. He hadnt thought to grab the charger in the rush from home. The nurses didnt have one for such an antique, either.

When his phone finally flickered out, Tom saw the old mans eyes fill with tearsfor the first time, pity rather than irritation touched Tom. Clearly, something was troubling his companion.

So, after a moment, Tom eased himself to a sitting positioncouldnt very well speak to a man lying downand approached gently.

Everything all right, mate?

Cant get hold of my son, the old man replied mournfully.

He doesnt know youre here?

Oh, he knows Nurse called him when I was brought in. But he wont answer me. We had a row six months back, just before my birthday. He was set on putting me in a care home, selling the house. I fought it, not for the house, really…

Tom listened as the old man described his recent heart attack, how the doctors had stabilised him, but said an operation was needednow scheduled for the following afternoon.

Im scared Ill go before they even get me on the table, he admitted.

Tom tried to encourage him. Nonsense! Doctors are here to save lives. I just got my appendix out, and here I amsee? Right as rain.

The pensioner smiled sadly, but didnt bother to explain the difference between heart surgery and Toms little snip.

Ive only got one friend left, he said, eyes shining. My little dog, Benny, hes out there now, somewhere on the street. Thats why Ive been ringing my sonto ask him to look after Benny if I dont come out of here. Or at least find him a good home. The neighbours have their own pets, they wont take him. If my son would just do this one thing for me… He gets the house and garden anyway, once Im gonehes been drooling over it for years. But he wont even pick up the phone. Refused to speak to me when the nurse called. Thats my son

I see Tom murmured, not sure what to say.

I just worry for Benny. Whatll happen to him now? Wholl feed him? Hell waste away.

Eccentric old man, Tom thought. Hes facing heart surgery but hes fixated on his dog.

But when the pensioner shared the story of how theyd found each other, Tom was moved.

I found Benny on my birthday, just half a year ago. My wifes been gone five years now. No one else left. The night before my birthday, she visited me in a dreamshe had a dog on a lead, waved and smiled, and the little thing tugged toward me. That day, I was buying groceries after a downpour and spotted a little dog tied to the railings, shivering. I waited hours in case the owner came back, but they never did. What could I do? Left him? Never. Ive always believed my wife sent him as a gift.

Tom gave a supportive nod, privately unconvinced, but compelled to offer comfort.

We got along instantly. For three weeks I put up posters, but nobody claimed him. And Im glad. Benny is more than a friendhe’s the meaning of my old age, really.

That evening, Tom found his mind filled with thoughts of Benny, lost or abandoned, and of the old mans cold-hearted son.

How could someone ignore their father in hospital, knowing he might be dying?

As Tom drifted off, he dreamt of a sorrowful mongrel wandering lonely streets, searching. All the while, Tom followed doggedly behind, unsure why, just knowing he ought to.

He awoke to the old mans ragged breathing, his hand clutching his chest.

Do you need a nurse? Tom asked, startled, rushing to his side.

No, leave itjust, ring my son, Harry. Will you? His numbers on a scrap of paper there, the old chap rasped, pointing. Tell him to come if he can. I want to say goodbye. If he cant, at least ask him to see Bennys cared for. I just want to die in peace, knowing Benny wont be left alone

Shaking, Tom grabbed his phone, dialled the wobbly digits from the note.

Hello? Is this Harry? Im your fathers hospital roommate Tom suddenly realisedhe hadnt even learned the old mans full name. All day theyd spoken, but never exchanged first names.

Norman Mitchell, the pensioner croaked.

Norman Mitchell. Hes not well. Hed like you to come, if you can.

He dying, is he? Harry replied sharply. Hes at Queens? I forget which hospital.

Yes, Queensward on the third floor, room 314. Tom rattled off the details, gave the address just in case, threw his phone aside, and hurried for the nurse.

He found her napping at her station.

Breathless explanations spilled out as Tom led her back, just as the night doctor arrived with her. Tom gripped Normans hand, imploring him not to give up.

But Normans heart gave out before the doctor finished checking his pulse. He shook his head, muttered, and shuffled out without a word.

Twenty minutes later, Tom watched the porters wheel Norman away, just as he had that other patient the day before.

*****

Your father died in my arms, Tom told Harry, when he finally arrived the next morning.

Well, at least it was quick, Harry replied with a dry detachment. He didnt suffer. Didnt burden anyoneespecially me. When people get old and need care, youre expected to drop everything to look after them. Ive got my lifework, a family This is better for everyone.

Norman pleaded with you to find a good home for his dog, Benny, Tom said, unable to hide his disapproval.

The dog? Oh, the mutt he dragged in off the street. Who cares? That stupid animals why he refused to go in a care home. I told him he’d be better off theresomeone to look after him, no health scares. He wouldnt listen.

That was your fathers last request, Toms voice was cold. At least try to grant him this. The house and land are going to you, arent they?

Harry shot Tom a peculiar look, but said nothing. He scooped up Normans battered phone and the scrap of paper with his number, and left, not bothering to say goodbyedoor banging behind him.

Tom lay back, reflective and sad. Seventy-seven wasnt an early grave. Some lived to a hundred. Norman couldve had years yetbut fate had other plans.

Strange, how much a dog could matter. Benny had no one now. Was it really likely that Harry would carry out his fathers wish? More likely, hed sell the house and leave the dog to fend for himself.

That night, Tom dreamt of Norman searching empty streets, calling for his little dog. When no answer came, tears coursed down Normans face until Tom, too, felt his own eyes stinghe couldnt remember the last time he’d really cried.

Those dreams haunted Tom long after he returned home. Every morning he woke solemn and distractedEmily was soon to notice.

Tom, are you all right?

Yeah, just thinking.

About what?

I had this roommate in hospital. Old chap named Norman. Came in with a bad heartneeded an operation, but didnt make it. Had a dog, Benny. Only familys his son, but theyd fallen out. Norman kept trying to reach him, but Harry never called back. By the time his son arrived, Norman was gone. I told him about the dog, but all he cared for was the housecouldnt wait to put it on the market. Now who knows where the dog ended up? I never even met Benny, but its so wrong.

Then lets go look for him! Emily exclaimed. If hes still around, well bring him home.

Seriously? You wouldnt mind us having a dog?

Id love it! Think of the walks. Weve talked about getting a pet. Itll be wonderful.

Tom grinned, hugging her. But I dont know the address

Ill sort it. But first wed better pop into the shopchocolate for the receptionist and a nice jar of coffee. Never know what will grease the wheels.

Sure enough, coffee and chocolate spread their magicthe receptionist, at first tight-lipped, relented after Emilys gentle smile and Toms honest explanation, and quickly scribbled Normans address on a note.

Soon, Tom and Emily were outside Normans semi-detached house, searching for any sign of a small dog.

A neighbour from next door appeared.

Hello, are you lost? Looking for someone? No one lives there now, you know.

Tom explained how he and Norman had shared a room, how Norman had passed away.

Oh, that’s terribly sad. He was a good manone of the old school. They dont make them like that anymore. May he rest in peace. His son, imagine, hasnt even held a proper funeralburied him quick and quiet, and now hes doing up the house to sell it. Typical Harry

Did you see his dog, Benny, at all? Emily asked. Norman was so worried.

His Benny? Poor thing! He sat out by the gate for days, waiting for Norman. Cried at night, howled pitifully. When Harry stayed over, he yelled at Benny and took him off, no idea where. Hes gone back to his city now, I suppose. Never liked animals, Harrynot an ounce of heart. Ive got a photo of Bennyjust here

She pulled out her phone, showing a picture of a small, sweet-faced corgi.

Thats got to be him, Emily smiled. Did Harry mention where he was taking Benny?

Said hed found someone to take him. Didnt say who. He was never going to keep him, no love lost there Lucky Norman never saw what kind of man his son turned out to be.

Thanking her, Tom and Emily drove off, both heavy with guilt. If only theyd come sooner There was no knowing where Benny was now, or if he was safe.

They circled the nearby streets, asking anyone they met about a homeless corgi, but no one had seen him.

When Tom tried ringing Harry, he found himself blockedhis calls went unanswered, and messages bounced back.

Lets just hope Bennys all right, Emily whispered, squeezing Toms hand.

She knew, deep down, there was little hopebut sometimes, it was easier to believe in happy endings.

Soon after, chance intervened. Stuck in a traffic jam, Emily decided to try a quieter detour. And just a few miles down the lane, she pointed to the verge.

Tom, look thereisnt that Benny?

Looks like it, Tom replied, his heart quickening. They pulled over, approached the little dog.

As they came closer, there was no doubtit was Benny. He sat forlornly, but when Tom softly called his name, the dogs ears pricked.

Benny, dont be scared. Your Norman asked me to take care of you. Is it all right if we bring you home?

Tom crouched down, holding out his hand. Benny sniffed it carefully; after a moment, his tail tentatively wagged. He must have smelled Normans scent, still clinging somehow to Tom. Benny stepped forward, resting his head against Toms knee.

Tom stroked his headonce, twice, three times. Over Bennys soft fur, Tom saw the glisten of tears, and as Emily joined him, she wiped her cheeks, too.

Soon, all three were driving home together; Tom and Emily both thankful for the traffic jam, for the detour, and above all for finding Benny before it was too late.

And Benny? He curled up beside them, contentat last he had someone to love him. Hands that smelled of Norman, gentle hands that would never cast him out.

*****

So much for family, eh? Tom muttered as they settled home that evening. That sontook care of the dog, did he? Id love just one word with him.

No, forget him, Emily replied quietly, watching Benny doze, finally at peace. We found Benny. Thats what matters. Life will teach Harry his lessons in due coursethe day will come when hes old and alone, and then maybe hell understand. But by then, itll be too late.

Maybe youre right Tom agreed, watching Benny twitch in his dreams, a tiny smile on his face.

Deep down, Tom thought he knew where Benny was running, and who he was running toward.

Send Norman my love, Tom whispered, before tiptoeing to fetch the velvet box with the ring.

That evening, at last, Tom proposed to Emilynot in a fancy restaurant, not with a pianist, but with all his heart.

He realised, finally, you dont need the perfect momentyou just need now. Emily said yes without hesitation.

Some stories dont turn out as planned. Sometimes theyre better that way.