An icy cold feeling rushed through his body. He could feel his limbs under him wobbling. He clinged on to the railings of the corridor for support as he struggled to make his way to the classroom. Images in front of him began to blur up. Fatigue crawled into every inch of his body like Venom over Spiderman. Suddenly, his legs gave way and on the spot he lay motionless.
“Teacher, teacher!” blurted John as he interrupted Mrs Foo’s class. He took a moment to catch his breath before continuing, “Andy has fainted!”
A few of us rush out to carry that 74kg being. Finding out that the resting room with the beds were lock, the five of us took him to the prefects’ room and laid him on the floor. Miss Lee, our physical exercise teacher came to check on him.
“He must be dehydrated. Go get him some warm Milo.”
We took off his sweat-soaked shirt and covered him with a blanket. His forehead showed signs of fever, yet out from his trembling lips were, “Very co...veh...very cold...”
“How are you feeling now?”
“Cold...cold...very numb...can’t feel...can’t...”
His fingers began to tense up and as though it was experiencing a cramp. Mark and Miss Lee began to rub his fingers and asked us to elevate his legs above his heart. Using John as a back support, we made him slowly sip the Milo to recuperate his energy.
“I think we need to call his mom.” Miss Lee said. “He isn’t doing too well.” Another teacher then went off to the office to call his mom. The now relaxed body of Andy started to tense up again. His eyes still shut; he shook around like he was having a nightmare.
“Don... don’t call he...her.... don’t call my mom to come.” His breathing started to grow heavy. Cold sweat broke out from his forehead. “Don’t....call.”
“Why?”
“Don’t call....”
He continued to squirm around in this nightmare mode. We held him as Miss Lee calmed him down. All of us there were puzzled. Why doesn’t he want his mom to come? We looked at each other, but inside we knew that question was not going to be answered anytime soon.
“Why?” Miss Lee went again. “Why don’t you want your mom to come?”
“Don’t call my mom.”
That was the only reply that came out from his mouth. His eyes were still shut. And by now he had finished the Milo we bought. We all sat around him and waited for his mom to come. The only sounds that could be heard was the creaking of the old ceiling fan turning at the speed of two on top of us and the panting of Andy. His fingers began to loosen up and he looked more relaxed compared to when he first came in. That momentary silence was broken by a voice only familiar to a few of us.
“Son. How are you son?”
We all looked up. There was his mom. There was no mistake as they closely resembled each other. He had her eyes, her mouth, and her cheeks. She had wrinkles on her forehead and we could all see the worried look in her eyes as she took of her shoes and walked towards Andy who was still lying down in the centre of the room. She knelt down and picked his head up and hugged him. “Son, how are you?” she said in a gentle voice.
Andy, eyes still shut, said in a soft voice, “Don’t call my mom.”
His mom looked surprised but continued to stroke his head. “Don’t worry. Mommy’s here. Good boy.”
“I told....I told you not to....not...not to come...” he was breathless, yet he tried to push her away with every bit of strength left in him, but to no avail. “Go...go away. I told you not to...come...”
She held him tighter in her embrace.
“Sa gua (silly in Chinese), mommy’s here. Why don’t you want me to come?” she said as she continued to comb his hair with her fingers.
His eyes were still shut as tears began to flow. It was a touching moment. Anyone could tell in his heart he was glad his mom came, yet he continued, “I told...you not.... I told you....”
His lips trembled even further. He failed to finish his sentence as he lay in his mother’s arms. It was a mother-son bonding session. Andy’s mom wiped the tears from his face with her palms.
“Sa gua, don’t talk like that.”
Isaiah 49
15 "Can a mother forget the baby at her breast
and have no compassion on the child she has borne?
Though she may forget,
I will not forget you!
16 See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands;
your walls are ever before me.