“He looks very sick, just like Dad was,” Iris murmured, observing the man’s pale face with worried eyes. “We can’t leave him here alone, even though we’re just children.” Laya spotted the cell phone lying in the nearby puddle and quickly picked it up, fearing it might stop working if left in the water any longer. To her relief, the screen was still glowing, though it required a password to unlock. Pressed by the urgency of the situation, she remembered something her father had once mentioned: that most modern cell phones allowed emergency calls even when locked.
With trembling fingers, she searched for the function on the screen. “Look, we can call for help even without the password,” she explained to her sisters as she located the emergency button. “Dad showed me this once, in case we needed to call for help and his phone was locked.” Her heart pounding, Laya placed the call to emergency services. When the operator’s voice answered, she took a deep breath, trying to sound as grown-up and calm as possible, just like she had seen her father do in moments of crisis.
The rain made communication difficult, and she had to press the device firmly to her ear to hear the instructions on the other end of the line. “Please, there’s a very sick man here,” she told the operator, her childlike voice belying the seriousness of the situation. “He fainted and is very pale, with difficulty breathing, just like my father was before he went to the hospital.” Describing their location was the biggest challenge. The triplets had run off aimlessly after fleeing the hospital, and Laya could barely pinpoint where in the city they were.
She looked around desperately for any landmark she could mention, while the operator patiently tried to extract usable information from the frightened little girl. “We’re in an alley near a big building with a blue sign,” she tried to explain, struggling to recall details of the route they had taken. “There’s a bakery on the corner, I think it’s called Golden Bread.” While Laya struggled to provide information to the emergency services, Isabel and Iris worked together to improvise a better shelter for the unconscious man.
They took the piece of cardboard, which had been their own shelter, and positioned it to create a small canopy that would at least deflect some of the heavy rain from the stranger’s face. Iris removed her thin coat, already soaked but still offering some protection, and placed it over the man’s chest. “We need to keep him warm until help arrives,” Isabel said, recalling the instructions she had heard so many times from her father. The cold could worsen his condition, as it often does for people who get lost in the mountains.
After what felt like hours, Laya managed to provide enough information for the ambulance to locate them. The dispatcher instructed the girls to stay where they were and continue monitoring the man’s breathing until help arrived. After hanging up, Laya returned to her sisters, who were now kneeling beside the stranger, watching him with a mixture of fear and worry. “They’re coming, but it’s going to take a while because of the rain,” Laya said, kneeling down again beside the man.
We need to talk to him, try to keep him conscious like Dad did with seriously ill patients. The three girls positioned themselves around the stranger and began speaking to him in soft but insistent voices. Following the example they had observed in their father, they took turns asking simple questions, even without expecting answers, just to provide auditory stimulation. The rain continued to fall, soaking them completely, but none of the three considered abandoning the man who needed help. “Sir, help is on the way.”
Stay with us. Okay? Laya said, holding the man’s cold hand in her small ones. You’re going to be all right, just like our father should have been. After what seemed like an eternity, blue and red lights began to flash at the entrance to the alley, illuminating the puddles with shimmering colors. The sound of the siren, which had previously meant danger for the runaway triplets, now represented hope. Paradoxically, it also meant that they themselves could be discovered and brought back into the system they were trying so desperately to avoid.
They exchanged apprehensive glances, but neither made a move to flee, not while the man still needed them. “When the paramedics arrive, we have to tell the truth about ourselves,” Iris asked, suddenly fearful, clutching the fragment of the medallion in her pocket. “What if they separate us?” The paramedics arrived quickly, carrying equipment and a stretcher. Seeing three identical girls tending to an unconscious man in the middle of a dark alley during a storm, they stopped momentarily, taken aback by the unusual scene. However, professionalism soon prevailed, and they approached, efficiently taking control of the situation.
“You’ve done an excellent job, girls,” one of the paramedics praised as he checked the man’s vital signs. The position they put him in likely saved his life. Where did they learn to do that? The triplets watched, fascinated, as the professionals worked quickly and precisely, applying procedures far more advanced than the basic first aid they had managed to provide. The man was placed on a stretcher, given an oxygen mask, and connected to portable monitors that emitted rhythmic beeps.
One of the paramedics prepared an injection while another spoke to the hospital on the radio. “Our father was a nurse,” Laya replied, her voice a mixture of pride and pain in her voice. “He taught us what to do in an emergency in case he was working and we needed to help someone.” As the paramedics began moving the stretcher toward the ambulance, the inevitable question the triplets had dreaded arose. One of the paramedics, noticing the girls’ condition—soaked, exhausted, and clearly without adult supervision—began asking the questions that would eventually need answering.
“And where is your father now? Who is taking care of you?” he inquired gently, kneeling down to be at the girls’ eye level. “We can’t leave you here alone in this rain.” The triplets exchanged apprehensive glances, the silent communication they had shared since birth now in full swing. In seconds, without words, they reached a consensus on what they should do. It was Isabel, usually the most reserved, who surprisingly took the initiative to answer. “We’re with our uncle,” she lied, pointing to the man on the stretcher.
He said he would take us home when he started feeling unwell and collapsed. We were terrified. The paramedic seemed momentarily confused, glancing from the stretcher to the girls and back again. The coincidence seemed too improbable: three identical girls, apparently related to a man who had collapsed in an alley. However, medical emergencies weren’t the time for detailed investigations, and the patient’s condition demanded immediate attention. “Well, in that case, you need to come with us to the hospital,” he decided, gesturing for them to follow him to the ambulance.
Leave a Comment