The Good Teacher - Chapter 151

A/N: Trigger warning! I do not condone domestic violence in any form (Physical, emotional, etc.)

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Guy coughed vigorously, as though he were trying to expel an obstinate entity firmly attached in his chest.

*COUGH* *COUGH*

Guy inhaled deeply and shoved out a large gust of air with a feral retch, nearly getting woozy in the process.

*COUGH*

“Here, have some water,” a concerned voice called out to him as a warm hand rested on his back, gently patting it in an attempt to soothe his discomfort.

“Thank you, Grace.”

Guy controlled his shaking hands to firmly grasp the offered clay cup and brought it to his lips. He took a few sips with measured gulps, letting the lukewarm water massage his throat as it descended his gullet. Yet he could never forget that dreadful pain he felt for a brief moment earlier. It wasn’t his first time, after all.

“You should get it checked, that cough,” Grace followed up. “This one was a lot milder than last time. That time it got so bad that you were even hunched over. I was afraid that you would scrape out a large chunk of your lungs, given the intensity.”

“You’re probably right,” Guy affirmed with a nod. “My father’s been after me to go in for my regular check-ups. He just called me yesterday and harangued about it.”

“Lucky you, huh?” Grace chimed in with a wry smile.

“Lucky, me,” Guy mimicked. “You didn’t have to come on this mission, you know?”

“Are you telling me what to do?” Grace challenged with a frown, her sharp chestnut-brown eyes projecting a piercing glare. “I’m a volunteer. Legally, you can’t ask me to not volunteer when I haven’t done anything that breaks contract-”

“No,” Guy immediately doubled back. “It’s just- I know that the last one was kind of hectic. High altitudes… Dry cold… Near imminent death caused by a rogue avalanche and all that…”

Grace scoffed and retorted by saying, “You’re worrying about me? I’m not the one coughing his life out.”

“Grace…” Guy sighed.

Guy ran the Larks Foundation, which was a non-profit wing under Larks Enterprises. It was a new venture he had started after exiting with his teaching degree and was graciously funded by both his elder siblings.

The Foundation specialised in building schools and other pertinent facilities in rural and underdeveloped areas. Currently, the Foundation was touring across the Indian subcontinent after a rather fruitful venture in Central Africa.

The Foundation primarily functioned on a volunteer basis. Apart from the key personnel managing logistics, every other member present would have volunteered their time. The touring group would consist of a myriad of members with a wide range of expertise. However, amongst the constantly cycling and changing members, Grace and Guy were the only two constants.

Guy was the anchor of the Foundation, so his presence was a necessity by default, although he preferred it this way. Yet Grace wasn’t foisted with such a responsibility. In fact, Grace was the only ‘volunteer’ member of the Foundation who was provided with a salary. This was because Guy felt embarrassed stringing her along for no pay when she was the one handling a sizeable chunk of the tasks.

“You should take a break,” Guy suggested again. “You will tire yourself out.”

“I’ll take a break when you take a break,” Grace retaliated.

“I guess we will be stuck together for a long time, then?” Guy chuckled with a playful wink.

“I guess we will,” Grace murmured shyly while turning her head away to hide her blooming cheeks.

At that moment, a faint voice coated with panic and fear pierced through the pinkish atmosphere. It was coming from outside their room.

“Teacher Larks! Teacher Larks!” It was the voice of a little girl, and one they were familiar with.

“Teacher Larks, Grace Madam…” The girl said while wheezing. “Help please! Mother, ummm… birth. Blood, too much… flowing,” she added with broken English. The girl’s name was Mahima, and she was one of the kids that Guy and Grace would teach. She had unkempt hair, with dirt caught on it, and a washed-out frock with dirt and bloodstains marking the knee regions, almost as if she had fallen and hurt herself.

Grace quickly responded in Hindi with the local dialect, “Mahima, Tell me, what’s the problem?“

“My mother is giving birth. But she is bleeding heavily. Please help us!“ The girl said amidst tears and snot.

Grace’s eyes narrowed as they caught onto a glaring bruise on the little girl’s face and a trace of blood peeking out of her lips.

“Who did this to you?“ Grace interrogated while gently cleaning the bruised region.

“This? Umm…“ Mahima faltered.

“Did your father do it?“ Grace shot back.

“M-My father?! N-No…“ Mahima stuttered.

Grace harrumphed in rage and proceeded to storm out.

“Grace, stop and think clearly!” Guy quickly reminded. “The girl’s mother is in trouble. Luckily for us, one of the doctors volunteering is an OB-GYN, I’ll fetch him. You should go and observe the situation there, help out, apply first-aid. But please, don’t act rashly.”

“I can’t promise that, Guy,” Grace growled as she rushed out with the girl.

Guy went about as planned. With every mission undertaken by the Foundation, Guy made it a point to include at least one physician. Amongst those volunteering for this task, Guy prioritised Paediatricians, Obstetricians and Gynaecologists. Performing volunteer work is always a beneficial entry to any aspiring physician’s curriculum vitae, especially when under the Larks Foundation’s purview since it was widely known and internationally recognised. Furthermore, volunteer work offered a great opportunity for practising physicians to hone their craft, away from the bureaucracy of standard medical establishments.

The OB-GYN volunteering for this mission was a relatively young guy with great ambitions. He was involved in many similar humanitarian ventures such as Médecins Sans Frontières, and was also involved with International Red Cross and Red Crescent Movement as an affiliate member. Although his involvement was self-serving, Guy appreciated anyone who was willing to contribute their skills to the benefit of others.

“Dr Yagi,” Guy called out urgently while knocking at the man’s door. Almost immediately, the door slid open to reveal the figure of a bespectacled man with an appearance hinting to his far-Eastern ancestry.

“Mr. Larks, what brings you here at this time?” The man inquired at a measured pace.

“There is an emergency!” Guy followed up by explaining the situation the best he could. In response, the man frowned and hurried back into his room to pick up a white-coloured box and rushed out while dialling a number on his phone. Along the way, he rattled out practised instructions to the person on the other side of the line.

Once Guy and Dr Yagi arrived at Mahima’s home, they were greeted by the awkward sight of Grace shoulder throwing Mahima’s father into the ground.

“If you raise your hand on your daughter one more time, I will personally remove that hand from your body!“ Grace threatened while dropping a heavy foot over the prone man’s crotch, eliciting a wailing response.

“Grace Madam,“ the girl next to her squeaked while tugging Grace’s shirt.

Dr Yagi patted Guy on his shoulder and moved towards the house, “I have informed personnel to prepare the appropriate equipment and medicine at the tent. I had checked this woman earlier, and she was close to giving birth. If my hypothesis is true, then we will have to go ahead with the delivery immediately.”

Guy nodded in affirmation before asking, “Do you need our help?”

The man simply hummed before entering. Guy followed the man in with faltering steps before a firm hand grasped his shoulder.

“Brace yourself, Guy,” Grace warned. “The woman, she’s…”

Grace thrust a fierce glare at the drunken man rolling on the ground and added, “There’s a lot of blood…”

Guy took her advice seriously and moved in. Right as he passed through the thresholds of the house and entered the room where the woman presumably was, he was immediately assaulted by a strong smell of iron. On a hastily opened up mattress in the middle of the room, lay a pale, ghostlike form of a woman with a bulging stomach. Her bloodless face was accentuated with multiple bruises, with more injuries splotched across every inch of her revealed figure.

And then the blood… So much blood! Guy’s stomach churned as he was assaulted with a mix of fear, disgust, anger and helplessness.

“This is… suboptimal,” Dr Yagi commented. “This is the worst case, Mr. Larks. I’m afraid we have to extract the foetus through a C-section.”

“What about the mother?” Guy said with a low yet audible voice.

“She’s lost too much blood. She’s barely holding on to her consciousness. We must start on blood transfusion immediately. Furthermore, it appears as though she’s suffered severe trauma in multiple sections of her body,” Dr Yagi said while shaking his head.

Guy grasped his hair with both hands and shrunk into a squat. He tugged on his hair firmly as he ground his teeth.

“Save… the… baby…“ a low moan emanated from the deflated woman. “Please… save… the… baby…“

The woman’s voice dissipated into thin air, leaving a morbid silence prevailing in the room.

“I’m taking that as consent. Since the patient has consented we do not need to request permission from her guardian,” Dr Yagi interrupted. At that moment, a few more volunteer medical staff and logistic staff arrived carrying a stretcher with them. They arrived next to the unconscious woman and moved her onto it with a coordinated lift.. The group then transported the woman at a brisk pace to a medical tent set up at the centre of the village, leaving Guy and Grace with the girl and her inebriated and unconscious father.