I Had a Heart Attack During Orientation

My dad, Angus Helman, always said I did not seem like a man. I would start panting after running two steps, and whenever I was in physical education class, I always sat crouched in a corner. I could not even open a water bottle. My mom, Diana Helman, snuck me to see a doctor. We were told that I had a heart condition and could not do strenuous exercise. At home, Mom showed Dad the diagnosis. He did not even finish reading it before he threw it on the table. “What nonsense is this?! No one in the past three generations of the Helman family has had any heart issues! Don’t trick me with this! He’s just lazy! You spoiled him rotten! He’s lazing about at home all day. Who wouldn’t get sick from that?” I got into the best university in the city. Dad became a teacher and was in charge of the school’s orientation program. He said that this was fate and that he could “remake” me. He would wake me up at 5 a.m. and make me run. He would deny me food if I could not finish my push-ups. If I could not run, he would hit me with his belt. I did not want to get hit or disappoint him. I started keeping my heart medication in my pocket and popped in a couple of pills when my chest felt tight. On the last day of orientation, Dad made me do push-ups in front of the entire school. I gritted my teeth and prayed to be able to make it through, just this once. At the fiftieth push-up, my vision went dark. I fell on the ground, and Dad kicked me. “Get up! Don’t keep huffing and puffing like a girl! Stay there if you dare!” My face was plastered on the hot running track as my vision went dark. I really could not get back up at all. Chapter 1 “How much longer do you plan on staying sprawled on the ground?” Dad’s voice thundered so loudly that everyone on the field could hear it. More than 3,000 students stood under the baking sun, but no one dared to breathe too loudly. One side of my face was stuck to the sizzling rubber of the running track. My chest felt so tight that I could have sworn there was a block of cement crushing it. Every breath tasted metallic in my mouth. There was a small bottle of medication I could feel against my thigh, but I could not muster up the energy to grab it. One of the orientation leaders, Mr. Mantooth, could not watch any longer. He was new to the school and had only been sent here this year. He was not even thirty years old. He bent down, reaching out to press the back of his palm to my forehead. He turned to Dad and said, “Mr. Helman, Felix is really burning up. Can we let him rest in a shady area?” Dad glared at him. “Lead your own group, Mr. Mantooth. You don’t have to interfere with mine.” Mr. Mantooth opened his mouth to say something, but another orientation leader grabbed him and shot him a meaningful look. After another glance at Dad, Mr. Mantooth stood up and went elsewhere. No one dared to speak up again. Dad was the head orientation leader, and he was in charge of this whole orientation program. Whatever he said was law. Dad strode over and grabbed me by the back of my collar and lifted me up. Just like that, I was suspended midair. My head fell backward limply. I felt like a scuffed kitten. “Look at you. You can’t even stand straight! Heck, you can’t even faint properly!” Dad dragged me off the field. The tips of my feet left two shallow lines on the ground. “Mr. Helman, should we get the school’s doctor to have a look at him?” Mr. Mantooth could not help but pipe up from behind. “What are you looking at? Do you think you know better than me how to handle my group, Mr. Mantooth?” Dad did not even look back. Mr. Mantooth promptly shut up. Dad hauled open a steel door off to the side of the field and hurled me outside. The back of my head slammed against a steel shelf, and I let out a grunt. My vision was going dark, and there was a steady buzzing in my ear. I was in the equipment storage room. There were hurdles, shotputs, discus, and other equipment in there. The air was stuffy and smelly, and I felt like I was in a sauna. Dad squatted down. He grabbed my chin and pulled at me. “Open your eyes, Felix!” But I could not. It was not that I did not want to, but my eyelids were heavy as though they were lined with lead. I could not open my eyes for the life of me. “Playing this game with me again, are you?” He chuckled sinisterly as his gaze swept across my chest. The skin under my uniform’s collar revealed mottled bruises. They were the remnants of his beating from a few days ago with his leather belt. It was all because I had taken too long to run three miles. “You’re just like your mother. You cry at the drop of a hat to gain sympathy.” He took out some napkins from his pocket and perfunctorily wiped my forehead. Then, he crumpled them up and tossed the ball at my face. “Lie here for a bit, then. Let’s see how long you can keep this act up.” Dad stood up and brushed his hands off. Then, he turned and left. The door was locked from the outside with a click. Right then, my body felt light and floaty. Chapter 2 I floated up into the air and looked down. Felix Helman was lying like a corpse on the cement floor, his face going blue, and his lips pale. The bottle of medication in his pocket had slipped out a little. I wanted to shout at him, but nothing came out. A flurry of hurried footsteps sounded from the hallway outside. It was Mr. Mantooth. He plastered himself at the door of the equipment storage room and looked through the window on top. He was frowning tightly. “Felix, can you hear me?” Mr. Mantooth knocked softly on the door. No one responded to him. Mr. Mantooth’s expression shifted. He reached out for the doorknob. “What are you doing, Mr. Mantooth?” came Dad’s voice from the other end of the hallway. Mr. Mantooth’s hand froze midair. “Mr. Helman, I think there’s something wrong with Felix.” “He’s perfectly fine.” Dad strode over and pushed Mr. Mantooth aside. “Are you trying to get out of your job, Mr. Mantooth? I’ll handle my own group. You don’t have to worry about it.” “But Mr. Helman, the kid’s face has gone blue. I’ve seen heat exhaustion before, and it wasn’t like this.” “How long have you been a teacher, Mr. Mantooth?” Dad was glaring daggers at Mr. Mantooth. “Don’t get involved.” Mr. Mantooth gritted his teeth and took another look at me through the window. Then, he looked at Dad’s expression. He went away. “He’ll get back up once he gets bored.” The hallway fell silent again. Mr. Mantooth walked to the end of the hallway and glanced at the closed door from afar. He did not come back. Orientation had ended. My spirit floated just outside the equipment storage room, watching Dad standing beside the stage. Jameson Hart was handing him a water bottle, smiling as he said something. Dressed in a pristine uniform and standing under the sun, he looked like he was glowing. Dad accepted the water and patted Jameson’s shoulder firmly. “You did a great job today, kid!” “Thanks, Mr. Helman!” Jameson’s voice was so bright and loud that everyone could hear it a hallway away. Dad looked at him with affection in his eyes. He had never once looked at me that way in seventeen years. When I was younger, I asked Mom, “Dad doesn’t like me, does he?” Mom was quiet for a long time before answering, “Your father’s just bad at talking about his emotions, but he loves you.” I knew that that was not true. Dad liked kids like Jameson Hart: loud and bold. He liked the kind of kid who played basketball and got into fights. Dad did not like that I spoke softly and that my feet pointed inwards when I walked. He did not like that I could barely run during physical education class and that I did not mess around with other kids. The lunch bell rang, and the noise of thousands of students heading for the cafeteria sounded. The heat in the equipment storage room had ramped up to more than 200°F. It felt like I was in an oven. On the floor, my lips cracked from the dryness. My face turned from blue to white. Sunlight filtered through the window but did not land on me. I tried to guess the time. It had been nearly three hours since I first collapsed. From what I knew, the window to save a patient having a heart attack was four minutes. Chapter 3 In a diner across the street from the school, the air conditioning was on full blast, and it was like a winter wonderland there. Today was the last day of orientation, so Dad had reserved the whole diner. The tables were all piled with food, and it was all stuff Dad liked to eat—cheeseburgers, fishsticks, onion rings, and a huge serving of fries. None of it was the kind of food I liked. I had a weak constitution from a young age, and I could not handle all this fried food. When Mom cooked, she made sure that everything was soft and that she used as little oil and salt as possible. Dad would complain about it every time. “What in the world is this? It tastes like air.” “Come, Jamie. Have another burger.” Dad passed Jameson a burger. The patty was thick and juicy. Jameson smiled and thanked Dad. He ate so heartily that his face was smeared with oil. There was a sense of satisfaction in the way Dad looked at him. His expression said, “Look at how hale and hearty this boy is! You can just tell from how he eats!” He was happy with Jameson in a way he was not with me. “Have some too, Mr. Helman!” Jameson passed him some fishsticks. “Alright, alright.” Dad picked up his glass and sipped some beer. “Let me tell you something, Jameson. You need to make sure you focus on your academics so you can get into military school next year. You don’t need to worry about your athletics. You have me for that!” “Thank you, Mr. Helman! I’ll make sure to do well.” “Once you get in, I’ll take you on a hike out in Greenstone and see the sunrise there. It’s gorgeous.” They talked and laughed and generally had a great time. My spirit floated in a corner and watched. Suddenly, I thought of Mom. Today was the last day of orientation. Surely, she would be waiting for me in the school gates. Every time I had a school event, she would attend it. She would hide herself in the farthest corner because she was scared that Dad would scold her if she saw her. He used to say to me, “Your mom’s here again. Does she think you’re three years old?” Mom always took meticulous care of me. It was a pity that she could not protect me any longer because Dad thought that boys did not need protection. They needed “training.” After lunch, Dad rushed back to school to finish the closing ceremony for the orientation. Then, in the afternoon, the orientation leaders had a meeting. During the meeting, Dad sat at the head of the table with a bunch of documents on the students’ performances. “Everyone’s performance was pretty good. Some groups were outstanding.” Dad’s gaze swept over everyone in the room. “However, one of the students was obviously slacking. He could not do anything and tried to fake illness to get out of the activities.” Dad paused. “My son, Felix, pretended to faint today. It severely affected everyone else’s spirits. I’ve grounded him so that he will reflect on what he did today.” In a corner, Mr. Mantooth balled his hands into fists in his lap. He knew that I had not been pretending. He had been leading these orientations for three years and had seen many people who pretended to faint. None of them had looked like me. Dad looked over at Mr. Mantooth. “Got something to say, Mr. Mantooth?” Mr. Mantooth was stunned for a moment. Then, he ducked his head and said, “No.” “Then, let’s proceed with the meeting. I want to talk about the program for tomorrow.” Mr. Mantooth sat there but could not process a single word. As Dad was flipping through his documents, Mr. Mantooth raised his hand. “Mr. Helman, I’ll return real quick. I need to use the washroom.” Dad did not even raise his head before waving him off. Mr. Mantooth walked out of the conference room. The second he was through the door, he picked up his pace. He practically ran down the hallway. When he got to the door of the equipment storage room, he quickly looked through the window. What he saw made his blood go cold. I was curled up on the floor and had not moved. In fact, I was not moving at all. My complexion was all wrong. It was no longer blue but gray. “Felix!” He pounded at the door, but I did not respond. Mr. Mantooth grabbed his walkie-talkie. His hands shook. “Mr. Helman, come to the equipment storage room! Felix’s in trouble! He really isn’t looking good!” Dad’s impatient voice came through the walkie-talkie. “I thought you were going to the washroom, Mr. Mantooth. What are you doing at the equipment storage room?” “Please, come over here for a look, Mr. Helman! Felix’s face is gray! It’s been more than three hours, and it’s about 200°F in there!” The conference room plunged into silence. Dad suddenly shot up, and his chair clattered to the floor behind him. His face was tinged green as he strode out of the conference room. He walked so fast that he left a little breeze in his wake. Mr. Mantooth was still standing at the door of the equipment storage room. When he heard the footsteps coming down the hallway, he turned to see Dad hurrying over and quickly stood aside. When he got to the door, Dad kicked it open. The steel lock exploded. The hot smell of metal was strong. “Felix, get up! Why are you still lying there?” It was completely quiet in the room. Dad huffed and marched inside. “Get up! I expect you to apologize to everyone for this nonsense today!” His tirade cut off abruptly. I was still lying in the same position on the floor as I had been three hours earlier, when I first collapsed. Chapter 4 I was curled up on the floor, like a crumpled-up ball of trash someone had discarded. My fingers were slightly curled as well, and the medication bottle stuck its head out from my pocket. My fingernails were purplish, and my lips were dry and cracked, with blood seeping through. White flakes of skin peeled and revealed the bloody red flesh underneath. The blood on my forehead had dried where I had hit it earlier. It had turned dark with coagulation. Dad walked over and kicked my calf. “Still pretending, are you?” There was no response. Dad knelt and poked me in the forehead. “You think I’ll forget about what happened today if you conjure up some blood?” There was still no response. “I’m running out of patience, Felix.” Dad’s tone was low and dangerous. Rage shimmered just underneath. “Get up right now and come with me to the conference room to apologize to everyone. If you can’t do that, you’ll have to run six miles. You’ll get dinner only when you’re done.” He reached out to poke me in the arm. When his finger touched my skin, he froze. My skin was hotter than a forge. “Why are you burning up?” His hand stilled midair as his mouth twitched. This lasted for only a second. Soon, his face settled back into that stiff and unrelenting expression of his. “It’s so hot in here! It would be strange if you weren’t burning up, actually.” He scoffed and stood up. “You think you can garner sympathy from me this way? It won’t work. You’d better apologize even if you die in here.” Running footsteps sounded in the hallway outside. Mr. Mantooth had brought along the school’s doctor, Dr. Lansing, with him. Dr. Lansing was pretty old himself and needed help as he ran over. He was panting hard. Mr. Mantooth looked into the room and went pale at the sight of me. “Take a look quick, Dr. Lansing!” Dr. Lansing pushed Dad aside and dropped to the floor to press the stethoscope to my chest. One second passed, then two. Ten seconds passed. Then, Dr. Lansing’s hand began to shake. He took the stethoscope off and lifted my eyelids. Next, he put his hand on my chest for a long time. “Don’t go along with his ruse, Dr. Lansing.” Dad’s arms were folded as he stood to one side, and his chin tilted up. “He’s done this since he was a child. Whenever he faces any hardship, he’ll start putting on a show. This is a bad habit his mother has enabled.” Dr. Lansing’s whole body shook as he raised his head. His eyes were filled with tears. “Mr. Helman…” he started with a hoarse voice. He sounded like it was taking all of his effort to hold himself back. “Have you gone mad?” Dad frowned. “What do you mean, Dr. Lansing?” “I can’t find your son’s heartbeat!” Dr. Lansing suddenly shot upright. His voice was very loud. “I can’t find a pulse or detect any breath. His pupils aren’t reacting to light. His heart has stopped!” Dad went pale. “You’re joking! He was just doing some push-ups earlier…” “Did you listen to a single word he said since he collapsed?” Dr. Lansing’s voice echoed in the equipment storage room. “Look at your son, Mr. Helman! Look at him!” Dad ducked his head and looked at me. I was curled up on the floor as still as a corpse. His lips started to tremble. “Felix…” He knelt beside me and reached out to caress my face. “Wake up, Felix…” My hand fell limply from his and hit the floor. I did not respond. I would never be able to respond again. The door of the equipment storage room burst open. From the hallway outside, the siren of the ambulance sounded closer and closer. Mom rushed in through the school gates. She stumbled on the hem of her skirt, and she landed on her knees on the steps. She got back up and kept running. At the door of the equipment storage room, she saw me on the floor. Her knees went weak. “Felix, my son!”