REMARKABLE

54

Hamza Hassan Omer had been staring at the white wall when the nurse came with the vital machine in tow, "Is everything alright, Sir? Any complaints?"

Hamza didn't reply, no additional words have been spoken by him for as long as he had been under observation. He was a grumpy old man and lonely, dressed in a loose black shirt and slacks, ready to be discharged.

"Th-That ma-an is sti-ill he-re?" Hamza Hassan Omer asked and the nurse nodded, wordlessly wrapping the blood pressure cuff around his thin arm, last-minute formalities. Every time the nurse had walked into his room, he had repeated the same question, that's all he had asked the whole week. Every time he opened his eyes, Every time he dozed off into dreamless slumber and yet, he was adamant on not allowing the man inside his room. It wasn't any better than the doctors were still unable to diagnose why he had been getting weaker and weaker. Nothing was wrong with him, yet, everything was wrong.

"Yes, "She spoke, softly."You know that he's been here since the first day. He's outside, at the moment, as well. Should I let him in?"

"N-No, "Hamza spoke in his gravel voice and took a deep breath.

The nurse, Saba bit her tongue, putting a thermometer in Hamza's mouth before she could ask him to let the man in or he'd drive him mad. Why didn't he take pity on him when everyone else did? The stranger had been outside all the time, only disappearing for a little while and he'd come back to take his place on the bench in front of Hamza's room, he'd sleep there or he'd busy himself in pacing a hole in the tiles, during sunny days and the long nights. The man had spent hours in the clinic, inquiring about Hamza's test results but to no avail and he had stared back at the nurses walking in and out of his ward with bloodshot eyes and a grim smile. Everyone was suspicious that they were related. Only, a close relative would exhibit raw emotions as Ardashir did but Hamza never acknowledged him.

Even when she had come to check on Hamza, he had been dozing off against the wall, his head lolled to the side, God knew he hadn't slept in so long. His hair was stuck in different directions, his arms folded across his chest as he snored, too loudly but nobody had the heart to wake him up. He still wore his two days old clothes that were far too wrinkled. A few more days at the hospital and he would resemble a homeless man.

"I-I ne-ed a-a pap-er..."Hamza derailed the nurse's train of thoughts and grated his teeth when his stutter flared."Pen."

"Okay," The nurse said, taking note of his blood pressure as she unwrapped the cuff from his arm and took the thermometer from his mouth."Your vitals are fine. I'll be right back."

The nurse returned shortly with a notepad and a pen clutched in her hands.

Hamza clasped his shaking hands in his lap and spoke through clenched teeth, "Write. Contact my brother, Adam Hassan Omer. 03456272882. Tell him, I want to meet him." The words were uttered shakily but at least, he didn't stutter.

She looked at him, her eyebrows cocked, "Is that all?"

"Give it to my son, "The nurse made herself scarce almost immediately. His coldheartedness had repulsed her. Hamza picked his phone from the side table, dialing his driver.

The nurse stopped before Ardashir, sympathy bubbling inside her heart. The man didn't deserve a cruel father like Hamza Hassan Omer.

"Sir!" She called him out and Ardashir jolted out of sleep. He was on his feet in the next second, towering over her as his eyes darted past her shoulders to his father's room and her frown deepened.

"I-I am sorry. Is everything alright? Is he- Is he-"

She interrupted his rambling, "He is okay. He asked me to give you this." The nurse held out the paper to him, Ardashir rubbed his eyes, regarding her with curiosity but she didn't have the answers to his questions, Hamza did.