Wake Up – Chapter 8

I wasn’t sure who screamed it or what was happening. I felt a sharp jerk at my sides and I was tumbling backward. In front of me, I saw a red bus rushing past me. It was so close I could see the earrings of the women sitting by the window. I felt the hot dusty air rush past my face forcing me to clothes my eyes. It was probably only a second but it felt like time itself had stopped.
Once the air calmed I did a mental inspection of my body trying to see if I was hurt anywhere. I didn’t feel any pain but there was pressure on my sides. I finally opened my eyes and looked down to see two hands clutching to me desperately. I looked around noticing now that I was sitting in someone’s lap. I twisted around to see you had saved me and found myself face to face with Ron. His eyes were wide and I could feel his breath on my face. He was breathing quickly, almost panting. I opened my mouth trying to thank him, or maybe scream but nothing came out. I closed it and tried again but still, my voice failed me.
He took a deep breath trying to calm himself but it was clear it hadn’t done much. I looked at me and asked, “Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?”
“No. No, I think I’m okay. Thank you. If you weren’t here I would have…” My voice shook so bad it must have been hard to understand but he nodded. He stood slowly before reaching down to his hand to help me to my feet. He looked at me with such a worried expression I think he thought I might break just trying to get up.
Once I had gotten to my feet I had assumed he would let go of my hand but he held it firmly. I was glad he did. Even though I wasn’t physically hurt I suddenly felt very weak in my knees. Ron yelled to a passing rickshaw and we climbed on. I was glad to sit for a while to try to compose myself.
I can’t believe I had almost done something so stupid. That could have been it. The end of my life. The first time I was here two children had been hit by a speeding bus and they had died. The event had caused huge protests and even riots.
My thoughts of self-loathing were interrupted by Ron. He looked at me and grabbed me by the shoulders. “I’m never letting you walk around Dhaka by yourself. When you go to the gym I’ll come with you. Anywhere you need to go I’m coming to.” I knew protesting would be no use so I just nodded in agreement.
When I got back to my car, I expected him to go back upstairs and disappear for the rest of the day but instead, he got in the car.
“What are you doing?” I asked surprised.
“I figured I’d sit with you. I have nothing better to do. Besides won’t you get lonely be yourself.”
I grinned. “I suppose I would,” I said happily.
We spent the rest of the day in my car, me reading and him on his phone. Our concentration was only ever interrupted by one of us trying a code we thought would work. These interruptions always seemed to end with us laughing and talking before one of us would inevitably point out the task at hand and we would both get back to work.
After getting nowhere I snapped my book shut and rubbed my forehead. It was late but I was nowhere near tired.
Ron looked up at me. “What are you thinking?” he asked casually.
“I don’t know,” I said wearily. “I feel like we need to go back to where I first saw you.”
“You mean back to Hatirjheel?” he asked.
“Yeah, I don’t know. It’s got to be better than this right? Do you have time tomorrow?”
“Why don’t we go now?” he asked grinning.
“It’s so late though,” I said incredulously. “Besides what will you tell your mom? There’s no way she’d let you go by yourself and so late at night.”
“I’ll tell her I’m going to Imran’s house. He’ll back me up.” He was grinning like a kid about to eat candy his mother just told him not to eat.
I thought for a moment. “But how would we get there?”
“You’ll drive.” He said it with way too much confidence.
“Me?” I said now fully shocked. “Are you crazy? I can’t even walk across the street without almost dying at the hands of a speeding bus. There’s no way I could get us there in one piece. I think today was enough proof of that don’t you think?”
“I seem to recall,” he said making a big show of pretending to think back, “You’ve already driven those roads once before. Isn’t that right?”
“Well, I mean yeah but…”
He cut me off. “It’s settled then. I’ll go upstairs and eat dinner. Once I’m done I’ll tell my mom I’m going over to Imran’s house, I’ll grab you some dinner, and we’ll meet back here. In the meantime, you stay away from the road.”
I tried to protest but before I could he was jogging up the stairs.
I sat back and tried to relax. It was one thing to drive it on a Friday night but during the week the traffic was a whole different beast. Back home I refused to drive in any city that had a population of more than 100,000. Dhaka had more than 9 million people in it. I told myself It would be okay. Afterall it was night time. This city usually all went to bed before 10 o’clock, and on top of that, I’d be able to take the flyover.

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