Saving Professor (Part 16)

After her lessons, Petra ran off to find Professor. She found Mrs. Sheralton at the front desk and asked where Professor was.
“He’s out back sorting junk,” she answered. “Do you need a snack? I have time on my hands, so I’d be more than happy to make something for you.”
“Oh—well, I’d love to, but I really would like to find him.”
“On a hurry?”
“Not really… You know what? Actually, a snack would be nice right now. What do we have?”
“Do you want something like crackers, or some fruit? What kind of a snack are you up to.”
“Is there any chance we have ice cream?” Petra asked, a childish grin spreading across her face.
Mrs. Sheralton rose up from her chair and began walking towards the kitchen.
“Well, Petra, how would you like some lime sorbet? I just got some yesterday. It’s Professor Stein’s favorite.”
“Oh, well, I wouldn’t want it if it’s his.”
“The thing is, he’s on an allergy medicine where he can’t have anything cold.”
“I didn’t know that cold things could affect allergy medicine.”
“Neither did I.”
“So he can’t have ice drinks?”
“No, he can’t.”
Mrs. Sheralton and Petra reached the kitchen. Petra leaned on the polished granite countertop as she watched Mrs. Sheralton take out a tall glass and a long spoon. She counted each of the three scoops of soft green lime sorbet Mrs. Sheralton plopped down into the cup.
Then Mrs. Sheralton took a bottle of ginger ale out of the cupboard.
She noticed the inquisitive look on Petra’s face, so she stopped mid-pour.
“Would you like any ginger ale in your sorbet?”
“No, thank you, Mrs. Sheralton, I’m good.”
“Oh,” Mrs. Sheralton sighed. “Professor Stein likes it that way.”
“Well, I’m really okay with this. Thank you, though!”
Petra took the glass off the counter and followed Mrs. Sheralton out the kitchen door. About halfway down the hall, Mrs. Sheralton pointed to a heavy door and said, “That’s where outside is. Professor Stein’s out there.”
Quickly thanking her, Petra opened the door and stepped out. The bright light of the sun surprised her. She squinted and could barely make out Professor lifting oversized pieces of cardboard into the recycling bin.
When her eyes adjusted to the light, she saw that Professor was walking over to her.
“Petra, are you finished with your studies already?” he asked.
“Yeah, I am. It’s already 3:54.”
Professor checked his watch.
“Yes, you’re right, it is.” He wiped sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. “I’ve been working out here way too long. I need to go inside sometime soon.”
Then he noticed Petra’s lime sorbet.
“That’s my favorite summer treat, you know,” he informed Petra.
“Yeah, I know. Mrs. Sheralton told me.”
“Oh, did she?”
Petra nodded.
“She’s been making snacks for me ever since I began working here. She was originally going to be a hotel restaurant chef, but she probably figured that she’s get a better pay working at the front desk here.”
Petra scooped out the last bit of sorbet. She was planning on getting more the next day. She wouldn’t tell Collier about it. He never enjoyed sweets, after all. But that wasn’t fair. She would tell him.
Only when she looked back up, she noticed that Professor had asked her a question.
“Oh… what? Sorry. I was thinking.”
“I asked if you’d like to help me with this loading.”
“Sure!”
Petra set her glass down on the steps and jumped down onto the asphalt.
“Put your arms out.”
Professor loaded cardboard onto her arms. She dumped it into the recycle bin.
That went on until the tall pile of cardboard had been successfully piled into the bin.
Petra wiped sweat off the back of her neck.
“Are you tired already?” Professor asked.
“No, not really,” Petra replied, holding her arms back out.
“Here’s something you’ll need to be more careful with. These are burnt out light bulbs, the kind that go in the tile ceiling. You’ll need to be very careful throwing them away, because—“
But Petra obviously hadn’t listened enough, because as soon as the lights struck the top of the trash can, they shattered and flew in all different directions.
Standing there, shocked, Petra could only stare ahead at the forest green paint peeling off of the garbage bin. Her heart pounded as she wondered what Professor may do.
She heard his voice behind her.
“Petra. Petra, it’s okay. You’re lucky we’re outside. This happens all the time. That’s why I was warning you—oh, no. Petra, there’s a cut on your forehead… Wait. Stay there. Don’t move.”
Petra stared, horrified, at the green paint. She stared harder and harder. Her vision swam, and a deep red mixed into the green—
She shut her eyes.
“Professor.” Her voice was hoarse. She cleared her throat. “Professor. I think there’s blood getting into my eye.”
“No, Petra, there’s not. You’re just imagining that. You were probably staring too hard at that green color. Now don’t move. I’m trying to get this glass out of your forehead.”
In the blackness, Petra stood still. She didn’t really know why, but she wasn’t ready to open her eyes up again.
I’ll just keep my eyes closed until I’m calm, she thought.
Suddenly, a sharp pain blasted through her head, starting from right above her left eyebrow.
“There, I got it out,” Professor mumbled from behind her. “Okay, Petra, I’m going to need you to open your eyes. Put your hand right here to block the blood from coming through.” He took Petra’s hand and placed her finger over the cut.
Petra slowly opened her eyes.
“Come back with me,” Professor commanded.
Petra trailed behind Professor. When the door opened, the swish of air conditioned air felt good, but turned cold as soon as it touched her sweat.
Black fuzziness crept in from the corners of her vision.
Professor stopped her in the hall.
“Stay here, Petra,” he commanded.
She sank to the ground, keeping her hand over her eyebrow.
Grey pinpricks began making their way into her vision.
Soon enough, an unfamiliar voice asked, “When did this happen? Just recently?”
Then Professor’s voice answered, “Yes, just about three minutes ago.”
A door closed, and then the unfamiliar voice spoke again.
“Petra, let’s go. Come on, get up.”
Petra felt strong arms lift her up and carry her. She would usually have been embarrassed to still have someone carry her, but she was so dizzy that she didn’t really mind it. She could hear whoever it was huffing and puffing as they reached their destination.
She felt herself being lowered onto a soft bed.
“Take your hand off the cut, Petra,” the voice ordered.
She slid her hand off her head.
“I’ve seen worse,” was the only comment Petra heard.
Her eyes adjusted to the light and she could see the doctor. He was a middle-aged man with short brown hair, and he wasn’t exactly what you would call “in shape.”
He opened a cabinet and took out a piece of cotton and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. He talked to Professor as he squirted alcohol onto the cotton ball.
“How’d she get the cut?”
“One of those long light bulbs exploded and hit her.”
The doctor nodded.
“That’s happened before.”
Then he turned around and began to rub the cotton ball onto Petra’s forehead. A sharp pain spread around the area, but she was too tired to react with much more than a jolt. Then the pain went away as the doctor rubbed on a yellowish ointment and placed a band-aid over it.
“You’re good to go, Petra. Come back to me tomorrow afternoon so I can change your bandage.”
Petra raised her head in an effort to nod, but her head fell back and the blackness returned.
“Is she okay?” she heard Professor ask.
“Well, how long was she out there?” A hint of worry showed through the doctor’s voice.
“About twenty minutes. It wasn’t that long, but it’s really hot outside today.”
“Did she have a drink before or during that time?”
“I really don’t know. She was eating a lime sorbet when she came out.”
There was a pause. Petra felt a shadow come over her, as if the doctor was leaning over to get a better look at her.
“I think she had a heat stroke,” he said. “You’d better get her some water.”
The door opened and closed. Petra kept her eyes closed as the doctor situated her back against pillows so that she was sitting up.
“Petra, you’ll have to open your eyes to drink water,” the doctor ordered in a low whisper. “Just for a second. You only need to get hydrated again.”
Then the door opened again and Professor walked in with a cup of water. Petra opened her eyes and took the cup. She lifted it to her lips. It was freezing cold. Because she was covered in tight blankets, the cool liquid was welcome. When she was done, she sucked on an ice cube.
After the ice cube melted, she closed her eyes again and fell asleep.