The man who stays on the side of the road.

"Real help isn't loud — it just doesn't go any further."

When János called me, I hadn't seen anything yet.

He just said his chest hurt.

That was enough.

I didn't ask.

I didn't think about it.

I put on my pants and started walking.

His car was parked at the zero mark, at the traffic barrier.

It didn't have a front.

This is not a poetic exaggeration.

The front of the car didn't exist.

I stopped behind the ambulance and the police car, with the hazard lights on.

As I got out, I saw: the policeman was alone.

He was taking action alone.

But there's no such thing.

It couldn't be.

He asked me if I couldn't see him taking action.

I said I could.

But I also saw that someone needed help here, and that's why I came.

I added: I'm here because of János. A family member.

He nodded.

I could stay.

I went to János.

I asked if the paramedics had examined him.

Yes, he said, but he's not going to the hospital.

I told him what it means in these situations.

Not from a textbook.

From experience.

What the seat belt does to the chest in these situations.

When the pain is "normal" and when it's not.

When they don't ask, but take you.

And why it's that trouble often doesn't come right away.

To which he said:

- You're already being clever.

First you argue with the policeman, and now you're educating the paramedics.

I told him:

- I don't educate anyone. I establish the facts and let you know that I'm here if necessary.

That's the difference between us.

In the meantime, everything went on.

The road maintenance arrived and started cleaning up.

I told him that he shouldn't until the scene was recorded.

The position of the cars, the tracks, the condition of the tires — these should be documented.

He said:

"He knows.

And I saw that he knew: it needs to be cleaned.

He didn't care about the rest.

I said what I thought: this job requires responsibility and expertise.

Otherwise, they could send a mall cleaner here.

Nothing came of it.

She cleaned.

If they don't care — I thought — then so do I.

The trailer arrived.

Sixty thousand. Immediately.

He won't take it any other way.

I asked:

"And who doesn't have money? Will they leave it here?

He said it would be more expensive because the tire is flat.

That's when I lost my patience.

I'm not proud of it — but I was honest.

I told him what I thought of him, his profession, and who he was living off of.

Jankó arranged it.

I helped him load up the car.

I told him: go, I'll go after them.

I even went to the police.

I asked if he needed any more help.

He just said:

- Thank you for being here.

That said a lot.

We parked the car in Érd.

János was still having chest pains.

I said: let's take a look.

We headed to the 11th district emergency room.

I already told him: there's no traumatology here.

There's no point in having an X-ray here.

I asked at the patient registration desk if there was a traumatologist on duty.

He asked back:

- For what?

I said:

- Because János needs him.

He left.

He came back.

And he said: he was wrong, let's go to János Hospital.

I told him:

– This could have cost a person their life.

I was harsh.

But it's true.

János said:

– Let's go home, I'll check on him tomorrow

And we went home.

There was no hospital.

There was no report.

There were no consequences.

It's just that I didn't go on when everyone else did.

"Not every story has a lesson.

Some stories only have a presence.

Staying on the road is not a heroic act, but a decision.

Quiet, self-evident, yet rare.

When we think back on this evening, it's not the arguments that will remain, not the words, not the flashing lights.

It's just that someone didn't hurry.

And sometimes that's enough for a person not to be left alone."