My EMT license was pending renewal. According to the regulations, I wasn’t allowed to perform any medical rescues off-duty during this transition period. But that day, in our neighborhood park, my neighbor’s toddler was choking on a whole grape. His little face turned from bright red to deep purple, and his cries completely cut off. How could I care about regulations at a moment like that? I rushed over and used the Heimlich maneuver, dragging the boy back from the brink of death. I thought I had saved a life. Instead, he immediately reported me to the board for “unlicensed and unauthorized practice.” The EMS Association fined me two thousand dollars. My company fired me, and I was blacklisted across the industry. But Richard didn’t stop there. He showed up at my doorstep with a bunch of fake medical reports, demanding fifty thousand dollars. “Who knows if those rough chest thrusts damaged my son’s internal organs? I’m just protecting my legal rights. Is there a problem with that?” Two weeks later, his son had a severe febrile seizure in the middle of the night. The boy was shaking violently, barely breathing, on the verge of death. Richard fell to his knees outside my apartment, banging his head against my door, begging me to just take one look at his son. I leaned against the doorframe, pulled out my phone, and calmly dialed 91
Then, looking down at him, I whispered: “I’m sorry, Richard. My license still hasn’t come through. If I accidentally hurt your precious golden boy, I definitely can’t afford another fifty-thousand-dollar lawsuit.” 1 “Ethan, don’t you dare talk to me about saving my son’s life! Your EMT license was expired, yet you still dared to touch him. That’s practicing medicine without a license!” I stood in the community association’s meeting room, my head spinning. Standing across from me was my neighbor, Richard Miller. He was holding his two-year-old son, Leo—the same boy who had almost choked to death on a grape in the park yesterday afternoon. Richard’s finger was practically poking my nose. “Richard, yesterday in the park, your son’s face was literally purple! You were on your knees, crying and grabbing my leg, begging me to save him!” I forced down the white-hot anger flaring in my chest and tried to reason with him. “I did it to save his life. It was an absolute emergency. I didn’t have time to think about paperwork!” “Cut the crap!” Richard raised his voice, his booming shout rattling the window panes. “You run safety training classes. Without an active license, you’re a rogue operator! Who knows if your technique was even correct?” He took a step back with a look of pure disgust, shielding his child. “What if you broke my son’s ribs? What if you damaged his internal organs? Don’t you know how fragile a toddler’s bones are?” My fists clenched so hard my knuckles popped. “You are twisting the truth! I pass my examinations every single year. It’s just that this year’s physical license is still processing in the state database!” Next to us, Mr. Vance, a representative from the EMS Licensing Board, cleared his throat and slammed a formal disciplinary letter onto the table. “Ethan, regardless of your intentions, the fact remains that your license was inactive at the time of the incident.” Mr. Vance spoke with a cold, bureaucratic tone. “According to board regulations, performing professional emergency procedures without an active license is a severe violation. You are hereby fined two thousand dollars, and a disciplinary notice will be sent to all industry employers.” I turned to Mr. Vance, unable to believe what I was hearing. “Mr. Vance, he wasn’t my patient! This was a Good Samaritan act in a public park!” “That doesn’t matter. You are a trained professional, which means you are held to professional standards,” Mr. Vance interrupted coldly. “You used professional techniques yesterday. That makes it a professional act. No active license means a violation. Period.” Richard raised his chin triumphantly, letting out a nasty sneer. “Hear that? Even the board says you’re wrong! I’m just looking out for public safety and following the rules. Am I wrong?” My wife, Chloe, who had been standing silently behind me, suddenly tugged hard on my sleeve. “Ethan, just apologize to him.” I spun around, staring at her in shock. “Chloe, what did you just say?” Chloe frowned, her face full of impatience as she whispered harshly. “You knew your license was pending! Why did you have to play the hero? That two thousand dollars was supposed to go toward our car payment this month!” My heart went cold. “I saved his son’s life, and you want me to apologize?” “Richard is just being a protective father. Is it a crime for a dad to be cautious?” Chloe shoved me behind her and turned to Richard with a desperate, fake smile. “Richard, I am so incredibly sorry. Ethan was just acting on impulse. Please don’t hold it against him.” Richard rolled his eyes, letting out a self-righteous snort. “Chloe, I’m only letting this go because we’re neighbors. Otherwise, I’d take my son for a full-body CT scan, and you’d be footing the bill!” “Of course, of course. Thank you so much for being so understanding,” Chloe nodded repeatedly, her voice dripping with gratitude. Staring at Chloe’s submissive face, she felt like a complete stranger. “I am not apologizing, and I am not paying that fine.” I shook off Chloe’s hand and glared at Mr. Vance. “You are rewarding a parasite.” Mr. Vance pointed a finger at me. “Ethan, with that attitude, your paramedic credentials will be permanently revoked. You will never work in this field again!” Chloe panicked and shoved me hard. “Ethan, have you lost your mind? Are you trying to ruin this family?” I stumbled back from her shove, hitting the water cooler. My back flared with pain. Richard held his child, watching me with a smug, victorious grin. “Ethan, I suggest you pay the fine quickly. I already posted the details in the neighborhood Snapchat group. Everyone knows you’re an unlicensed, dangerous fraud now.” I gritted my teeth, looking him dead in the eye. “Richard, aren’t you afraid of karma?” “Karma? I follow scientific parenting and legal regulations. What do I have to fear?” Richard let out a cold laugh, turned, and walked out. At the door, he threw one last comment over his shoulder. “Keep away from my son from now on. Who knows what kind of bacteria you’re carrying.” 2 The moment we got home, Chloe slammed the front door so hard the walls shook. “Ethan, did you skip your meds today? Would it kill you to just swallow your pride?” Chloe ripped off her coat, pointing a finger directly at my face. “Two thousand dollars! That’s almost my entire monthly paycheck! And you just threw it away to play the damn hero!” Looking at her throwing a tantrum, I felt a deep, bitter irony. “That was a child’s life! If I hadn’t stepped in, that boy would be dead!” “If he died, it would have been Richard’s own fault for not watching him! What does that have to do with you?” Chloe ran her hands through her hair in sheer frustration, pacing up and down the living room. “Now look at us! The entire neighborhood thinks you’re some unlicensed psycho. I’m embarrassed to even step outside!” I ignored her, pulled out my phone, and opened Snapchat. The neighborhood group chat was already blowing up. Richard had posted a massive, text-heavy story with a sensational headline: *WARNING! An unlicensed, rogue EMT is lurking in our neighborhood, using violent ‘rescues’ to assault children!* In the post, he vividly described how I had “ripped” his son from his arms and “brutally assaulted” the boy under the guise of the Heimlich maneuver. He even hinted that I had staged the choking incident in the park to drum up business for my private safety training courses. The neighbors were quickly jumping on the bandwagon. *”Oh my god, that’s terrifying. How did someone like this get hired in our community?”* *”I support Richard! We need to ban these unlicensed frauds!”* *”I heard the licensing board fined him two thousand dollars. He must have done something truly sick.”* Reading these venomous comments, my hands and feet went numb. Just yesterday afternoon, the reality was entirely different. Yesterday, I was walking my five-year-old Golden Retriever, Buddy, in the park. Suddenly, I heard blood-curdling screams from a nearby lawn. I ran over and saw Richard kneeling on the grass, holding his two-year-old son. The boy’s face was a dark, suffocating purple. His little hands were clawing at the air, his lips turning black, and not a single sound could escape his throat. An empty plastic container of grapes lay open on the grass next to them. An obvious airway obstruction. Without a second thought, I tied Buddy’s leash to a nearby tree and rushed over. I grabbed the boy from Richard’s trembling hands and positioned him. I wrapped my arms around him from behind, made a fist with one hand, placed the thumb side against the boy’s abdomen—just above his belly button—and cupped my fist with my other hand. I delivered quick, upward thrusts. One, two, three, four, five. *Cough!* With a weak, desperate cry, a whole grape flew out of the boy’s mouth, rolling onto the grass. The color slowly returned to the child’s face as he gasped greedily for air. Richard had collapsed onto the grass, clutching my legs, weeping hysterically. “Ethan, you’re a saint! You’re my son’s savior! I owe you everything!” Yet, in less than twenty-four hours, the “saint” had become a violent child abuser. “What are you looking at? Haven’t you embarrassed us enough?” Chloe snatched the phone out of my hand and threw it onto the sofa. “I just went down to the garage. Someone slashed my car tires!” She pointed out the window, her eyes bloodshot with rage. “It was definitely someone from the neighborhood! And it’s all because of you!” I looked at her coldly. “So?” “So you are going to apologize to Richard right now! Buy some expensive gift baskets, go to his house, and beg him to take down that post!” Chloe ordered, her voice shrill. “Why should I? I did nothing wrong.” “Nothing wrong? Being unlicensed is wrong!” Chloe stepped closer, her teeth clenched. “Ethan, let me make this clear. If you don’t apologize tomorrow, we are done!” I looked at the woman I had shared a bed with for three years. “Fine. Then we’re done.” 3 The next morning, the moment I arrived at the safety training center, I felt the suffocating atmosphere. Jenna at the front desk avoided my gaze, and several of my colleagues were whispering in a corner. Before I could even sit down at my desk, the owner’s office door flew open. Richard walked out, accompanied by three wealthy-looking young fathers, looking incredibly aggressive. “Everyone, look closely! This is your ‘star instructor’!” Richard held up an enlarged printout of the board’s disciplinary notice against me. “He doesn’t even have an active license, yet he’s out there violently compressing toddlers’ stomachs!” My colleagues immediately started whispering and pointing at me. Our boss, Mr. Peterson, followed behind them, sweating profusely and trying to pacify them. “Mr. Miller, please calm down. I assure you our center will handle this matter with the utmost severity.” “Severity? You’re keeping a dangerous fraud on your payroll?” one of the wealthy fathers sneered. “We paid premium tuition for our corporate safety training. If you’re going to let an unlicensed criminal teach us, we want a full refund immediately, and we will report you to the Better Business Bureau!” I walked over and snatched the printout from Richard’s hand. “Richard, have you had enough?” I stared into his eyes, my voice like ice. “I will say this one last time. You were on your knees begging me to save your son.” “Bullshit!” Richard yelled back, stepping into my space. “I was in shock! If I knew you were an unlicensed hack, I would have waited for the ambulance rather than let your filthy hands touch my boy!” He spun back to Mr. Peterson, demanding: “Mr. Peterson, if you don’t fire him today, I will make this local news. I’ll make sure your center goes bankrupt!” Mr. Peterson wiped the sweat from his forehead and looked at me, his eyes cold. “Ethan, go to HR, collect your final paycheck, and don’t bother coming in tomorrow.” I froze. “Mr. Peterson, I’ve worked here for four years. I’ve trained thousands of students without a single complaint. You’re firing me over this ridiculous, manufactured drama?” “Ethan, the company has to look at the bigger picture,” Mr. Peterson replied, avoiding my eyes. “The fact is, your license was inactive, and you were fined. We cannot let your personal mistakes ruin our brand’s reputation.” “Hear that? Now pack your shit and get out!” Richard mocked, letting out a loud laugh. Looking at Mr. Peterson’s indifferent face, I realized any further explanation was pointless. “Fine. I’m leaving.” I packed my personal belongings into a cardboard box and walked out of the building. The cold autumn wind hit my face like tiny knives. I walked aimlessly around the city for two hours before dragging my exhausted body back to the apartment. I pushed the door open. The apartment was dead quiet. Usually, the moment I unlocked the door, Buddy, my five-year-old Golden Retriever, would run over, wagging his tail and leaning against my leg. Not today. “Buddy?” I set the box down and searched the living room and bedroom. Nothing. His bed was gone. His leash was gone. Even his food bowl was missing. Just then, the front door opened, and Chloe walked in carrying takeout. Seeing me, she startled. “Why are you home so early?” I stared at her. “Chloe, where is my dog?” Chloe avoided my eyes, putting the takeout on the table. She spoke in a casual, uncaring tone. “Oh. I gave him away.” “You did WHAT?!” I rushed over and grabbed her arm. Chloe shook me off impatiently. “I dropped him off at the county animal shelter. He’s not going to die.” My chest tightened painfully. “Are you insane? Buddy has been pampered his whole life. You threw him into a high-kill shelter?” “What choice did I have?!” Chloe suddenly screamed back. “Richard posted in the neighborhood group that dogs carry rabies and bacteria that could infect his recovery! He said the dog’s dander was a health hazard to his traumatized child!” She glared at me, completely self-righteous. “The HOA came knocking on our door this morning, demanding we remove the dog immediately! Should I have waited for them to fine us or break our door down?” “You actually believed Richard’s lies? Who the hell is he to dictate our lives?!” I turned and bolted for the door. “Ethan, stop throwing a tantrum!” Chloe grabbed my arm. “He’s just a stupid dog! Once this drama blows over, I’ll buy you a new one!” “Let go of me!” I snarled, ripping my arm away. 4 I searched the county animal shelter for three agonizing hours. The sky was pitch black, and the wind was freezing. The shelter volunteer told me they did receive a Golden Retriever matching Buddy’s description earlier that day. However, because they were short on cages, they tied him up in the yard temporarily, and he had managed to break his leash and escape. I searched the surrounding fields and woods, calling his name until my throat was raw. I couldn’t find Buddy. All I found in the brush was a piece of his torn, bloody leash. Clutching that torn leash, I felt an empty, hollow ache in my chest. Buddy was my dog before I even met Chloe. He had stayed by my side through my darkest, loneliest nights. And now, because of a malicious neighbor’s lie and a cowardly woman’s betrayal, his life was on the line. I stood up, wiped my face, and took a cab back to our neighborhood. As I crossed the courtyard, Richard suddenly stepped out from the shadows. He was holding a medical report, blocking my path. Several neighbors who were out walking their dogs immediately gathered around. “Ethan! Perfect timing!” Richard slammed the medical report against my chest. “My son has been complaining of stomach pain all day. The doctor said he has suspected internal bruising!” He pointed his finger at my chest, his face contorted in anger. “Your violent, amateur chest thrusts did this! You weren’t saving him; you were assaulting him!” I looked at the report. It was utterly ridiculous. “The Heimlich maneuver naturally causes abdominal soreness. That is a standard, non-life-threatening side effect. Compared to him suffocating to death, a little soreness is nothing!” “Soreness? My son never complained of stomach pain before you touched him!” Richard bellowed, ensuring the crowd heard every word. “Let me tell you something, Ethan. I’ve already consulted a lawyer. You are going to pay us fifty thousand dollars for his ongoing medical bills and emotional trauma!” He stepped closer, a cruel smirk on his face. “If you don’t pay, I’ll show up at your wife’s office tomorrow with giant protest signs. I’ll make sure she gets fired, and you both become social pariahs!” Chloe, who had just come down to look for me, heard his threat. Her face drained of all color. She rushed over, grabbing my arm and pulling me down. “Richard, we are so sorry! It’s all our fault!” Chloe’s voice was shaking with pure terror. “Please don’t come to my office. I beg you. We will pay. We will get you the money!” I shook her off with a violent jerk. Chloe stumbled back, then turned on me, screaming: “Ethan! Would it kill you to just bow your head? Are you trying to destroy my life?!” I froze. I slowly turned my head and looked at Chloe’s twisted, cowardly face. To protect her own reputation and job, she didn’t hesitate to throw me under the bus. I stood up straight and looked at her. “Fifty thousand dollars? In your dreams.” I turned to Richard, my voice incredibly calm. “Go ahead and sue me. Let’s see what a judge has to say.” Without another word, I turned and walked away. Chloe screamed my name in rage behind me, but I didn’t even look back.
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