Not A Hero: Side Stories & Shorts

It was a loud sound to wake up to.

So loud that before I knew it, I was already conscious and staring at the emotionally draining sepia of my ceiling, the cozy embrace of my makeshift cocoon suddenly not feeling as cozy, especially not with the mother of all distractions pulling me further and further away from sleep.

Groaning at the tiny yet prominent voice telling me to drag my ass out of bed, I palmed where I thought my nightstand was, and after several failed attempts, grabbed the one accursed object still very loudly announcing its presence to the world.

I opened my eyes a smidge, only to whine in denial.

5:30 A.M.

It was a flimsy yet delicious thirty minutes before I needed to once more get up and contribute to society.

Still, that meant it wasn't my alarm.

So as much as I wanted to continue flirting with my pillow, curiosity got the better of me.

Propping the phone towards me once more, I levied my gaze at the all-too-bright screen, trying to process more sensory data this time. Coincidentally, this happened to be the moment the noise stopped.

One missed call from 'Unknown Caller'.

My brain whirred for all of three seconds before I grumbled, sinking back into Mr. Pillow. Spam, wrong number—whatever it was—it could wait. Anything to allow my eyes to drift shut once more.

Reality was hardly so considerate.

The phone immediately started ringing again. The subsequent sigh I threw out was so pointed and potent that I somehow hoped the mystery person on the other end could hear it.

Squinting at the screen once more, this time with steadily building resentment, I saw what I expected to see.

Unknown Caller.

With little feelings of remorse, I jabbed at the red icon passionately, instantly finding solace when my room was once again returned to sweet silence.

It was sleepy-time.

Simultaneously, that meant it was not answer-the-phone time.

I tossed the thing behind me, out of sight, out of mind.

Of course, when it rang again I was already in the midst of bolting upright, strands of hair flying past my face.

Craning my neck, I glared heatedly at the sleek device, continuing to mischievously serenade me with a pop song I liked, yet seemingly determined to make me start hating it.

I was going to hang up again, silence my phone even, only... the number made me hesitate. I didn't recognize it.

The area code, on the other hand, was nearby.

I whimpered like some pitiful animal as my anger faded, something like acceptance creeping in to take its place.

Like a coward, I put all my weight into one hand as I leaned over the damn thing, missing the 'answer' button a few times before my thumb finally landed.

I brought it to my ear, spitting some hair out of my mouth. "Hello, this is... this is Kara. Now what do you—... how can I help you?"

"Hey, sorry to bother you when you're sleeping Miss K, but totally hypothetical question, if I found a baby in a dumpster, what should I do with it?"

The blue light in my room, just beginning to leak in from the curtains, gave it a weird underwater vibe.

I found my eyes unconsciously drawn to the large wiener dog plush I had on my dresser, head leaning precariously off the surface's edge.

However, the staring contest lasted only until my sleeveless forearms felt the crisp chill coming from the fan propped up against the adjacent wall.

I reached up to rub the sleep from my eyes, shivering at the same time.

At that point, my mouth moved on its own.

"...What?"

"Hey, sorry to bother you when you're sleeping, but totally hypothetical question, if I found a baby in a dumpster, what should I—"

"Alex..."

I quickly cut him off as I palmed the length of my face.

"When I pulled you aside with a few others, telling you that you could reach out if you were dealing with anything... that wasn't me giving you the go ahead to prank your teacher with your usual brand of... you... in the wee hours of the morning."

Yawning, my eyes flickered downwards to the inviting puff of my pillow.

"Now, I'm going to hang up... before I lose my job and go to court, because... that's exactly what's going to happen once you explain to the principal why I cussed out one of my students over the phone. Goodbye now. Even as a joke, this isn't—"

My phone pinged.

It was not someone else calling.

"...What did you just send me?"

My voice tried for stern as the very same number sent me a message, and even more concerning, with an image attached.

Incidentally, I don't think the boy saw a single thing wrong with sending his teacher a picture, and to my personal number even.

Also, I don't think my authority conveyed quite the way I wanted it to, voice still wrangled with sleep.

Although as my student answered, that was the last thing on my mind.

"That's a picture of her. Oh, and her name is Delilah, apparently."

Numbly, I opened the lingering notification.

I promptly fell face first into my pillow.

"Alex," I said, somehow intelligibly.

"Yes?"

"Please, please, don't tell me you kidnapped someone's infant child."

"Rude. I said I found it—her, I mean—in the dumpster. She was practically buried in chow... chow... Chinese food. Or it might be Korean. Let's just be safe and call it oriental—you can see it."

I could.

I just found myself really, really, not wanting to.

"Anyway, her name was written on her arm, strangely enough. Oh, and on the other one... let me pull her out—wow, she's drenched in sauce—let, let me see what the other one says. Hold on. ...Kinda weird she isn't crying."

It was, actually.

All I heard was soft cooing...

Which is what my brain innocently supplied me with as it frantically ran away from reality, the ramifications of what was happening slamming headfirst into my gut.

But right as the endless possibilities turned into very realistic lawsuits with myself an accomplice, enough to make me feel faint, I was once again brought to the material plane.

After some shuffling, and even more baby noises, the boy's cadence, unlike my heart, came out calm and unstressed.

"Aww. It says Mommy loves you..."

"No, no, no, no, no..."

"Okay... children aren't for everyone I guess..."

Busy trying not to succumb to the ensnaring panic attack that was sinking its teeth in and not letting go, my brain was a bit too preoccupied to correct that.

Imagining the troublesome face on the other end that always seemed to be having way too much fun, I practically rolled away from my mattress into a sitting position on its side.

Incidentally, I now adorned my sheets like a toga.

Just ones with cute bunnies on them.

I rubbed my temples as I thought of what to say, taking a deep breath.

And then I took several.

"Alex..." I pleaded. "Please, explain."

"Oh, uh. I just figured 'cause you're still single—don't make that face, it's common knowledge—you just didn't see having kids as a priority. Not that I really care. That's just what some girls in front of me were—"

"Not...!"

My face cringed at the louder than expected voice that immediately rose to the surface, considerably inappropriate given our age difference.

"Not... that. I was talking about the considerably more pressing issue. Explain why you decided it a good idea to call me, your political science teacher, instead of emergency services, immediately after finding a living, breathing baby, that was allegedly abandoned in a pile of tra--..."

Something occurred to me.

I could no longer hear the baby.

"Alex. The baby. It's still breathing right?" The few seconds of silence on the other end was unbearably loud. Raw panic began to flood in. "A-...Alex, no. Please don't tell me—"

"Oh, sorry, she just cutely grabbed my finger all of sudden and I got distracted. What were you saying?"

I saw stars, or something close to them as my hand tightened around the device.

Breathe.

Just breathe.

This was always a possibility after deciding to go down this career path. I knew I would be dealing with the young, immature, and emotionally unstable.

Although none of that did its job in soothing me.

Even more so when I considered the boy in question just being a few years shy of being eighteen—the thought of subsequent adulthood was horrifying.

I could worry about that later.

I repeated my earlier question.

Alex replied, unbothered. 

"Yeah... and I called you. Isn't that basically your job anyway? Looking after children?"

His words couldn't have been said with any more confusion even if they tried, and I felt like I was drowning in just as much.

No, even if it was technically accurate, approximating my five years of schooling in such a blunt way... I shook it off, straightening myself, my professionalism hopefully following.

"Of, of course, Alex. And you were right to. In fact, even though a bit caught off guard, I'm still... flattered... you chose to trust me with this. Something as important as the safety of a little girl. Now, let's—"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, her too, I guess? But I was talking about looking after me."

I considered the repercussions of my phone shattering into a thousand pieces against my wall.

"See, I figured you would be able to coach me on the legal side of things before I contacted the proper authorities, since, you know, I'm the one who has the explain what the hell I was doing in an alleyway looking through a dumpster when I found Delilah. ...Yes, I'm talking about you, cutie. Heh. She just responded to her name."

The bubbly sounds of the baby were the only thing that wore down my urge to scream at him.

But I froze as I suddenly became distracted by an altogether different problem.

"Alex..."

"Hm?"

"What were you doing in an alleyway at five in the morning?"

The baby continued to make noises.

Alex didn't.

"...Hm?" he repeated after a while.

"Alex."

"There's... no law saying I have to answer that question."

That likely meant I did not want to know.

I sighed. "Alex. I'm calling an ambulance to your location. Text... text me where you are." Then, as an afterthought, "Will you be fine on your own?"

"Should be. Pretty hard to misplace a baby while I'm waiting, so I should be able to hand her off when the time comes."

My lips twitched.

"Right. I'm glad to know you're taking this seriously... for once. And Alex? Please stay safe."

"Aw, Miss Kara! See, I knew those rumors of you being a bitch were—"

I un-hesitantly ended the call.

"Such a weird kid," I muttered, eyes eventually drifting to my pillow.

Alas though, after the few minutes of wait that had Alex sending me over the address, I quickly dialed 911.

Maybe it was because my previous call had been a lot more mentally taxing, but in comparison, this one took significantly less time. And with a succinct promise of someone being dispatched with urgency, I thanked them, hung up, and then all but glomped my pillow.

Now, finally, if I could just—

An ugly soothing ocean sound, followed by a female automated voice collapsed into my room.

"It's time to get up, it's time to get up, it's time to get—"

I tuned the rest of it out, trying for a calming breath but failing miserably as I stared at my ceiling.

The hollow thuds of my heartbeat grew louder and louder as the seconds passed.

Abruptly, I violently threw my covers away from me, stomping over to the bathroom.

"Detention. I don't care what he says."