Babysitter Cougar [COMPLETE]

Chapter 7 page 2 - Fatal Reaction

When the satay delivery arrives, I help Mom to serve them on the kitchen table for lunch while Saint helps to lay out the cups and cutleries onto the table. When everything is set, we dive into the satay as I caution Saint not to take the peanut sauce due to his allergies.

"How do you like your satay, Saint?" I watch him chewing off the meat from the sticks.

"I can eat this alone all day," he commends. "Daddy loves it too. He said it's the thing he misses the most whenever he returns to Ballsbridge. So I'm eating for him now."

"Okay, but slow down, don't choke yourself. There's plenty more," I remind him.

"Maybe you can invite daddy to come over for satay if he's here," Mom recommends.

"No, he doesn't come here anymore but he'd book flights for me to Dublin every year. His house is beautiful, like in the movies. Looks like this house from the outside but is huge from the inside. (coughs) It's like a three-storey building with an attic like mine. (coughs) I like it there because it's cold, (coughs) unlike here I sweat a lot," he rasps.

"Can you finish your food first?" I slide a glass of water towards him which he immediately regurgitates. He puts away the glass and nods in concurrence.

When he starts to perspire, Mom turns on the stand fan to fullest but it doesn't help much. Saint's chubby cheeks flustered and his coughing grows intense. That's when I realise something's amiss.

"Is the satay spicy?" Mom asks but he shakes his head in response.

"Saint, stop!" I pull his plate towards me before taking a bite. A tinge taste of peanuts from the meat alarms me as I look down and count the sticks Saint had eaten. All eight of them.

"Mom, I think these ones already have peanut sauce in it," I gasp. "I thought they'd separate the food from the sauce."

"The sauce must've spilled on these batches when they prepared them," Mom stammers frantically.

Saints coughing turns choking and his red face swells in seconds causing him to scratch himself profusely. I alert Mom to take him to the nearest hospital but she suggests to call 999 instead since there's no one to take us to the hospital. Kay and Maheera are away, Dad's out with his friends. But I don't know when the ambulance could come. Saint needs to get to the hospital now.

I can't make Mom drive us there since she had a traumatic car accident that almost got her plunged into a ravine. It leaves me no choice but to take the wheel on my own. I've never driven a car before but Dad's Proton Iswara is an automatic car which I think I can handle.

"Saint, we're taking you to the hospital. Try not to scratch yourself too much," I say in my utmost calm manner but the octave in my voice tone gives away my panic state.

"I can't–" Saint makes a wheezing sound before he gags and accidently disgorges whatever he had consumed on the floor.

I rush him to the sink and rub his back a couple of times as the second wave of projectile vomiting emits through his throat. When I let him alone to relieve himself, I rush for Mom to help her with the floor.

"Get him inside the car. Let me handle this," she urges and I obey.

I try to lift deflated, helpless Saint but after realising that he's too big and too heavy for me to piggyback, I lift him by the side in a human crutch position with half of his weight on me. His monolid eyes are all puffed up, making him harder to see. So, guide him like a blind out of the house and into the car.

"Saint, can I make you happy?" I pant into his ear. "I promise after you get better, we'll watch Happy Tree Friends together, okay? Please don't die on me."

The nearest A&E that I can think of is Melawati Garden Hospital which is just a mile away. That'll suffice, I can make it. Saint and Mom are already at the backseat with Mom nursing him. I turn on the ignition, wait for the engine to slowly purr and pull the gear into reverse to back the car. I think I press the pedal too hard that the car suddenly jerks backwards and hits something.

"Sofia, be careful," Mom cautions me.

I could be hitting the kerb or the neighbours' flower pot but I just couldn't care at this point of time. I pull down the gear stick to drive and slowly veer the car into the main road.

Somewhere at the traffic light, our Iswara accidently grazes a car next to us. The driver curses and demands me to stop but I disregard him. I heard Mom saying something but I'm not sure what it is. I cancel out every noise that surrounds me, just to get to the hospital. Saint's life is crucial for now as he's already unconscious from asphyxiation.

When we reach Melawati Garden Hospital, a motorcyclist who has been following us from the accident scene tries to reprimand us for hit and run but changes his mind when he sees our helpless state.

"Is that the reason why you drive like crazy, girl?" he demands while eyeing at Saint. "Is he alright?"

"He needs to get into the emergency," Mom cried. "Can you help us?"

            🍀☘️🍀☘️🍀☘️🍀☘️☘️🍀☘️

Doctor said Saint had anaphylaxis, an allergy reaction that could kill him if it isn't treated immediately. Although I had violated a couple of traffic regulations, I just saved a child's life. And Mom's on the payphone with Dad, trying to explain the situation. From the frown on her face, I sense that Dad's livid by the news. Not much about Saint's state or about the fact that I'm out of the house, I reckon it's more about the condition of his car and legal implications of me driving without a license.

When I'm allowed to see Saint, I sauntered into a hallway with cubicles covered by thick olive drapes flanking on each side of the aisle. My eyes dart at him resting on the hospital bed, with one of his arms connected to an IV bag filled with clear liquids. His swollen face emaciated into normal but blotches of red spots dapple all over his fair skin. I place my palm on the back of his other hand that's not connected to the tube and caress it gently.

"Happy Tree Friends, huh?" he forces a smirk. "I accept."

I shouldn't have made that promise. I shouldn't muster the spirit of an injured child with animation not fit for his age just because I assume he's partially unconscious.

P/S - Do you have allergies? What's your worst allergic reaction experience.

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