The Boy from Beyond Saved His Mum
The Boy from Beyond Saved His Mum
A little boy called me, begging me to save his dying mother. We saved herbut later, I discovered the boy, Toby, whod phoned me, had been buried a month earlier.
Im a doctor. Over the years, Ive seen all sortsheartbreaking cases, joyful ones, even ridiculous ones. But this one? Well, its the most baffling of my career.
It happened in the early 1980s, back when I was fresh out of medical school and assigned to a village clinic. Id expected some grim, crumbling building, but instead, I found a shiny new facility. The staff welcomed me warmly. I was thrilled! The first week passed without incident, though patients kept me busy till late.
On Friday, I arrived early to sort paperwork in peace. My nurse, Emily, wouldnt be in for another hour. But as soon as I sat down, the phone rang.
A bright, boyish voice chirped: “Dr. James! My mums really poorly! 11 Maple Laneplease come quick!”
“Whats wrong with her?” I asked.
“Shes dying!” His voice dropped to a whisper.
“How? Call an ambulance!” I urged.
“No ones home but me,” he mumbled. “My sisters not back yet.”
Thensilence. The line went dead.
I threw on my coat and dashed to the address. Fifteen minutes later, I arrived. The front door was ajar. “Hello? Doctors here!” No reply. Inside, a woman lay sprawled across the bed, her face deathly pale beneath tangled dark hair.
Her skin was icy, butthank goodnessthere was a pulse. An empty pill bottle lay nearby. Suicide attempt. Id never dealt with one before. Time was precious. Spotting a phone, I dialled for an ambulance, then did what I could until they arrived.
When the paramedics came, I fibbed: “She took too much medicine by accidentpanicked and called me.” Mental health stigma was brutal back then; I didnt want her institutionalised.
As they wheeled her out, nosy neighbours clustered around. “Shes not dead, is she?” clucked one elderly woman.
“Shell pull through,” I said firmly.
The old lady sighed. “Must be her Toby calling her. Poor lad drownedburied a month ago.”
“But she has other childrena boy and girl,” I said.
She shook her head. “Only ever had the one.”
Waitwhat? Whod phoned me? What sister?
No time to ponder. I sprinted back to the clinicappointments started in five minutes.
Emily gasped. “Dr. James! Whereve you been? I was worried!”
I recounted the odd morning.
“I know that family,” Emily said softly. “Sarahthats the mum. Lovely woman. She and her husband tried for years before Toby came along. Doted on that boy. And now” Her voice cracked.
Then she frowned. “But howd they ring you? Our phone line isnt even connected yet.”
“What?” I gaped at the receiver. Emily lifted itno cord.
Blimey. A dead boy rang me on a dead phone? Was I hallucinating? But Id spoken to him!
That evening, I visited the hospital. Sarah had stabilised, and her husband, Mark, squeezed my hand. “Thank you, Doctor. Without you” His voice trailed off.
Sarah stared blankly out the window. “How did you end up at our house?” she whispered.
I told her about the call. A tear slid down her cheek. “Toby saved me.”
I gripped her hand. “Your son wants you to live. Fight for him! He even mentioned a sistermaybe theres hope for”
“No,” she cut in. “Doctors said Ill never have children again.” She turned away, weeping.
I left, fighting tears myself. I didnt visit againseemed she preferred space.
But the story haunted me. Years later, during a routine shift, a knock came. In walked Sarah and Markradiant, grinning. Sarah held the hand of a little girl, about five, while the other rested on her rounded belly.
“Doctor,” she beamed, “meet our daughter, Lily.”
The girl peeked shyly from behind Sarahs skirt.
“When I saw Lily waiting on the porch that day, I understood why Toby wouldnt let me go,” Sarah whispered. “And then well, another miracle happened.” She patted her stomach.
Decades on, I still wonder: whyd that boy pick me? Some mysteries, I suppose, are best left unsolved.