Adelaide
The anger is still raging through me, invading each of my pores.
I still can’t believe he’s here.
At first, I admit that I was pleased when I saw him walk toward me.
Of course, the second I found out his reason for being here, my joy evaporated faster than sweat on skin in a hot day.
I shake my head and try to slow my breathing.
“You okay, Doctor?” the toothless Azizi asks, and I force myself to focus on his arm. I need to apply a new dressing.
“Thinking,” I reply and smile.
“About new man?”
His grin widens, and I’m amazed with how quickly word has spread.
I shake my head instead of giving a reply.
“Now hold still, this might hurt a little.”
I pour disinfectant on the wound. It’s a nasty looking injury.
Azizi had a run in with his donkey. Earlier, he said the donkey looks far worse than his arm.
“Me, no pain,” he mumbles, and I start applying my magic liquid.
The first time I used the antiseptic and healed a nasty wound on a young child, the villagers were amazed, particularly the child’s mother.
It was one of the village elders who called the antiseptic ‘magic’.
Over time, we became used to calling it as the magic potion.
“New man good looking.” Azizi says.
I ignore his comment.
Over time, you learn to choose your battles, and I don’t want to fight this one.
It goes without saying that Ford is handsome.
Unfortunately, he’s more than good looking, he’s drop-dead gorgeous.
He can have any girl he wants.
I sigh.
How long ago had our bumbling little high school fling been? It seems a lifetime ago.
I better not start thinking about all the women he’s been with since then.
“Does it hurt?”
My patient shakes his head.
I study his eyes. Sometimes men don’t tell the truth.
I’ve tried to talk to them, urging them to tell me when they feel pain, but usually they don’t—has something to do with losing your face.
Men. What can I say?
With a new dressing over the wound, I get up to leave. There are a few more house calls to be made before I start seeing patients at the clinic.
Clinic is a bit of an overstatement. More like ram shackled building with four walls and a room over our heads.
“You back tomorrow?”
I nod.
“Now, make sure you keep taking these two times a day,” I say, handing him a small bottle with antibiotics in it.
Azizi nods.
“Do you need anything else? Water?” It’s risky for me to ask him this. Men are proud and don’t want to appear helpless.
But I also know he doesn’t have any family to help.
He shakes his head.
“You look after yourself,” I call out as I leave his mud hut.
“Be nice to new man,” I hear him say.
With a shake of my head, I’m about to go to my next patient—when someone blocks my way.
“We need to talk.”
Instantly, I freeze.
There’s nothing I need to talk to Ford about, nothing at all.
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see familiar faces.
I don’t want to cause a scene out here in public.
“I don’t think so,” I reply as calmly as I can.
As I stand under the burning hot sun, I feel little beads of sweat trickle down my neck and back.
The sky is as blue as it can be, with not even the hint of a cloud in sight.
It hasn’t rained in weeks, maybe even months. Each day, I look for the telltale sign of relief from this seemingly never-ending drought.
But so far, nothing.
“Oh yes, there is.” He stays by my side as I walk toward the next mud hut.
With each step, I kick up a little dust.
Rain would help settle dust—and with less dust, some of my patients would have less breathing problems.
I step over a goat lying in the slither of shade alongside the building I intend to enter.
The animal is covered in flies. Even they don’t bother to leave the shade—that’s how hot it is.
“You can’t go in there.” Ford grabs me by the shoulder and stops me from moving forward.
I glare at him. “What do you mean? Of course I can.”
He shakes his head. “No, you can’t. What if someone’s lurking in there, waiting for you? Before you can even call for help, the intruder will have knocked you unconscious and carried you out through the back. I checked, and most of these little huts have a back exit.”
“Clearly, you watch too much television,” I reply and try to walk past him.
He won’t let me.
“I don’t think you appreciate how serious the situation is. You’ll have to start listening to me and change the way you do things around here.”
He’s got to be fucking kidding me.
If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s overprotectiveness.
When I arrived here, the first thing that struck me was how free I felt.
Finally, I got rid of the shackles my family put on me. I was free—free to be who I want to be.
As far as I’m concerned, I’m just here to do a job, and that is to look after the sick and do no harm.
“Listen here, Ford.” I take a step toward him and poke him in the chest.
He doesn’t flinch or move, or show any kind of reaction at all.
If I didn’t know he was human, I’d half suspect him to be a cyborg.
“You can’t just waltz into my life and this village and make demands. I’m fine. I’m not in danger. So please go back to where you came from, and tell brother dearest to mind his own business.”
If I thought he was going to let me pass, I thought wrong.
He stood his ground.
For a few seconds, we stare at each other. A war is raging inside me.
My stupid, weak flesh is engaged in a battle with my brain.
My brain is telling me to turn around, walk away and come back later—but my flesh wants me to take another step forward so I actually touch him.
My nerve cells are quivering with anticipation and dying to feel his touch.
“I know you’re not happy about this arrangement, Adelaide. But I’m here to do a job—and I will do that job.”
A job.
I was nothing more than a job to him.
I lock eyes with him.
“In that house,” I point at the building he’s stopping me from entering. Luckily, my hand is not shaking. “Lies my patient. She’s about ninety-four years old. She’s hardly a threat to my security. Now please, let me see her.”
He still doesn’t move.
I sigh.
“Why don’t you go in ahead and make sure no one else is in there? Then you can piss off.”
I think the corner of his lips curl up the tiniest bit at my last two words. Was it possible Ford thought I was funny?
Too annoyed and angry, I stomp my foot.
“Look, without breaching doctor-patient confidentiality, the woman is not well. Can you please let me see her before she’s dead?”
Finally, the penny drops.
Ford moves. He walks into the tiny hut ahead of me.
Seconds later, he sticks his head back out.
“You’re safe to come in.”
I roll my eyes. “I could’ve told you that about ten minutes ago.” I snap and walk past him.
It takes me a little while to adjust to the dim light.
“How are you today, Inira?”
The frail woman is lying on some banana leaves on the floor. I’ve tried to get a bed for her, but she won’t hear of it.
Last time I raised the matter, she told me she’s spent the better part of ninety-three years on the floor, she’d be alright to do so for a bit longer.
“Faini,” she mutters before a coughing fit grabs.
I rush to her side and drop to my knees. It takes me less than a minute to wipe her sweaty brow and help her drink some water.
“Is the cough getting worse?” I ask, but I fear she may not tell me the truth.
The trouble with the elders in this community is that they don’t want to be a burden on anyone.
No matter how many times I assure them that I’m here to help, they still deny their troubles to keep me from worrying.
“A little,” she replies to my utter surprise.
“I’ll get you some special medicine,” I assure her and rummage around my bag.
I’ll need to go to the clinic to get it. The last of my Ventolin was used on another patient.
More people have had chronic asthma since the extended dry spell.
“Don’t trouble yourself,” Inira says.
I pat her on the shoulder. “No trouble.”
“Who’s the man with you? New doctor?”
I shake my head.
I’m not good at lying. At the same time, I don’t know if I should share the fact that Ford is here for security.
Luckily, the old woman has closed her eyes, and seems to be dozing off.
“I’ll be back in a little while,” I whisper and leave.
Outside, Ford stops me from going again.
“You can’t just prance around the village.”
Prance.
Did he really just say I prance around the village?
“Look, Ford. I’m not a kid anymore. You can’t tell me what I can and can’t do. So get used to it.”
I walk away. This is getting tiresome.
“But I’ve been hired to protect you. How can I protect you when you’re a moving target? You may as well have a neon sign pointing to you saying ‘pick me’.”
It’s difficult to ignore him.
“This is not my problem. I didn’t ask you to be here. I don’t want you here. I’m fine.”
“Look. Your brother asked me to protect you. I’ve been hired to do this job, and I’m going to do it even if I have to tie you to a chair so I know where you are.”
His words make me stop dead in my tracks.
“You wouldn’t,” I hiss.
“Don’t tempt me.”
We glare at each other.
“Okay. So what exactly do you have in mind?” I ask, crossing my arms in front of my chest.