by Rula Sinara
“Exactly right,” Chad cut in. “You know full well that in any kind of military division or even law enforcement, you always have a partner. You always have your back covered. The two of you alone is not enough. If you’re busy vaccinating or whatever you do out here, no one’s got your backs,” Chad said. He put his mug in his bowl, picked the stack up and stood, then turned to Hope. “Call Ben yourself if you’d like.”
Hope frowned and looked off in the distance. She rubbed her hand the way she always did when her mind was churning.
“We just need someone who can stay here and provide security until these criminals are caught. I’ll talk to him. He said he’d try to find someone. If not, we’ll have to send word out that the clinic will be closing until further notice,” Hope said.
“He can’t spare any of his guys. His words,” Chad said. He started for the kitchen area.
“You could stay.”
Chad turned slowly at the firm tone of Lexi’s voice. Had she lost her mind?
“I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
“Because, if you haven’t noticed, I’m a little incapacitated right now.”
“Your injuries haven’t stopped you from making a decision about this place. They didn’t keep you from going off on your own yesterday,” she said.
“I agree with her on this one, Chad. You were functioning quite well yesterday,” Taj said.
Lexi pressed her lips together and glanced at Hope. His mom crossed her arms and walked over to him.
“Technically, you’ve refused PT appointments, so although I still want you to get on a schedule so you can get more used to using your left hand, it would take at least a couple of weeks to get you in. And that’s if you stop resisting. So, in the interim, your schedule is free. I think it’s a great idea. It would at least buy us a little time,” Hope said.
His back prickled. The first twinge of phantom pain threatened to take hold. He raked his hair back. He hadn’t had any full-blown phantom pain attacks since he’d gotten here, which was unusual given how frequently he’d had them back in Nairobi. He’d managed to get the last one that almost hit yesterday quickly under control. Why was he having one now? He dug his fingers into his left palm. How could his mother put him on the spot like this?
You loved following your hunch yesterday and heading out on a mission to that boulder, even if all you found was blood. You can’t quit. Shut down the place and you’ll lose the chance to go after this poacher yourself. You know you’re dying to.
He gritted his teeth.
“Not interested. Security isn’t my thing. I’ve kinda been thinking of going into modeling or maybe even neurosurgery.”
“Don’t, Chad.” Lexi stomped over to him and stood as in-his-face as her belly would let her. “Don’t start with the bad jokes. We’re being serious. If you’re not interested or capable, then why were you out here last night? All night.” She looked back at everyone. “You heard right. He stayed up most of the night guarding the grounds because Hope and our patient were in the tent.”
“And you helped me with that tire, so I’m not buying into your ‘I’m not capable’ argument. Even injured, you’re probably more capable and sharper than most people on their good days,” Taj added.
“I’m not doing it.”
“Do it for Tony,” Lexi said softly.
Now that was low. He curled his lip and sucked in a breath.
“I am doing this for Tony. I promised I’d make sure his wife was safe if anything ever happened to him, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do. Safe means out of here.”
Her mouth opened but no retort came.
No one spoke.
He didn’t appreciate feeling like a wild animal backed into a corner. He hated the hurt smearing Lexi’s face and stinging her eyes. How was he supposed to look out for her without hurting her?
Lexi cleared her throat.
“Give me a week, Chad. By then, maybe a replacement can be found or maybe the situation will be under control. A week. That’s not asking much. Please, Chad. Living out here and serving the Masai villages was Tony’s dream. Our dream. Everything he did was with the goal of giving back. I want to raise his child out here, just like we’d planned. I want to help all those other children and people, just like your mother does. Just as Tony had planned to do. I need to. I’ve already lost him. Don’t take this away from me, too.”
She might as well have punched him in the gut with everything she had, then beat him to the ground. Maybe he’d said too much last night.
He looked away and held his breath, willing the hammering pain in his right shoulder to ease. All eyes were on him. He couldn’t let them see his pain. He didn’t want to be perceived as weak. But then why did he joke about himself? Why did he lay his limitations out on the table? To control everyone’s thoughts and opinions of him? To put words in their mouths before they could come up with their own? He swallowed hard and stared her down. Somehow, focusing on every fleck of gold in her brown eyes lessened the pain. Something touched his hand.
“Here,” Hope said, handing him a canteen of potable water. He took it but walked off before taking a long drink.
Don’t take this away from me, too.
He squeezed his eyes shut. He had nothing to give himself, let alone others. How was he supposed to be worth anything here? A tiny, infinitesimal part of him was drawn to the idea of staying. Something about the place—the desiccated land, the wilderness and lurking danger...her—made him feel like he’d never been injured. Like he could travel back in time. Like he could get out there and fight the bad guys again. He could fight evil again...evil that took lives.
Don’t let Tony down. You already did that once. Consider this a way to avenge his death and a way to make amends for not being there for him.
God, he wished he could change things, make things right...so that Tony would be standing here alive, with his wife. And Chad would still be at the front lines instead.
Lexi wanted a week. A week away from his parents would keep them from prodding him about his health. A week was nothing compared to the months he’d spent at desolate, cold outposts. A week might be enough to ease his conscience. He looked back at Lexi then at the others.
“Seven days. Not one day more.”
CHAPTER SIX
TWO DAYS LATER, Lexi wiped her face after splashing it with cool water and tried changing her sweaty shirt, only to find the next one didn’t fit. That meant the only two left that fit needed to be laundered. She’d been wearing the other earlier, when she cleaned up the exam tent after discharging their miscarriage patient, who’d stabilized sooner than expected.
She was getting frustrated and impatient, with her body and with the clinic situation. Taj and Hope were back in Nairobi today, and Ben had said they hadn’t been able to hire a more permanent guard, yet.
Chad stalking the clinic’s outskirts was both a relief and a curse. On the one hand, his being there bought them time—assuming Hope and Ben were doing everything possible to find a replacement—but on the other hand, he, too, seemed frustrated by how difficult the area was to secure.
The clinic wasn’t a house or business in the suburbs or city where all that was required was a call to a company to hook up an alarm system or remote-control gates. And it wasn’t just about cost. They couldn’t cut down shrubs or trees or, in good conscience, obstruct the natural habitat.
When they’d erected the clinic structures, they hadn’t disturbed so much as a weed. Even stringing tin cans or booby traps like in old children’s adventure stories wasn’t practical. The vervet monkeys would turn it all into a noisy playground or worse, some animal would get tangled or caught in their web. They were here to help, not endanger. With children amongst patients coming through, they had to be conscious of that. And they couldn’t afford the latest security technology. Plus, any po
wer they had came from an old, sometimes unreliable, generator.
But his frustrations weren’t the only thing getting under her skin. There was also the fact that he kept glancing over at her and watching her work.
She laid out the supplies she’d need for today’s clinic on the table under the shade canopy they’d erected and got ready for the families to arrive.
She’d set up extra clinics prior to the wet season, per Hope and Taj’s advice. The rain was critical to the villagers, yet the muddy pools and wet conditions also meant a rise in the mosquito population and hence, malaria cases. Other infections like river blindness were also of particular concern during the rainy season.
There was no vaccine for many of these diseases, so the best she could do was to pass out bars of soap. Each kid who got vaccinated would also get a lesson on keeping their faces washed. At some clinics, they would hand out colorful toothbrushes to the kids and go over dental hygiene. Some of the most important preventative measures were so basic. Things that so many people took for granted.
Their parents taught them to do so at home, but just like with anything, kids often listened better to someone other than their parents.
If followed, basic hygiene did wonders for disease prevention, but what Lexi really hoped was that the kids would be excited about getting something and want to come back to be vaccinated again.
“Here’s the last bag of soap. I found it under the cabinet. No idea how it got there unless it fell without me realizing it.” Jacey opened the bag and set it at the end of a second table.
“Good. I’ll do the shots and you do the wash-up lesson. I hope we have enough vaccine. I’d hate to turn anyone away. Did you find any more vitamins?”
“None. Taj and Hope both said they were going to try to get more samples or pharmaceutical donations, though.”
Malnutrition was one of the most serious concerns for the children, especially when so many of the village crops were dying. No wonder Tony had been so passionate about medical care out here. No wonder his grandmother had encouraged him to pursue medicine so that he could help others. His grandmother had told Tony that education and knowledge were useless if they weren’t shared.
She understood what his grandmother had meant. Lexi, herself, had worked hard to earn every scholarship she could to be able to afford going to college. Her hard work had meant something. Being here was sharing it.
Chad walked over, eyed the table.
“I’m taking the jeep out.”
“Wait a minute. You’re going to drive? Alone?” Lexi glanced down the path. The first group of villagers was starting to arrive. Had he waited to bring this up when he knew she’d be busy and distracted?
“The driver’s side is on the right, so I can change gears with my left hand.”
“But the steering wheel and—”
“It’s called using your knees. There aren’t any red lights and speed limits. I’m good. And I wasn’t asking permission. I wanted you both to know I’d be within a half-kilometer radius. Jacey, keep your eyes out and call me on the radio if I need to rush back.”
“Lexi’s right. You shouldn’t go out alone,” Jacey said. “You agreed to that with your mom and Taj. Why don’t you wait until we’re done here and I’ll go with you?”
“That would leave Lexi alone after all the patients have gone. You’re both safer with all the folks who’ll be here. I can’t see or do much from camp. I prefer taking action to waiting. Preemptive strikes are better than being a sitting duck. I’m planning to drive by the enkangs where these families are from. With some of the women and children away and the men out of the village trying to find a place to graze their herds, I have a short window to check things out.”
“You’re planning to sneak around a Masai homestead? You’ve got to be kidding me,” Lexi said.
“Not sneaking, just observing. If someone is hiding out in one of the enkangs, they’ll slip up sooner or later. Or if he’s hiding in the bush, I might catch him taking food from an otherwise empty inkajijik.” He glared past her at the small crowd forming. “You have patients to tend to. I’m out of here.”
He left for the jeep, shaking the keys in the air and turning his face to hide a smile.
“How’d he get those?”
“I swear I didn’t leave them in the jeep. Did you?” Taj asked.
Lexi slapped her forehead. “I’ve heard stories about pregnant women putting their keys in the refrigerator and milk in the cabinet. I didn’t think it would happen to me.”
“Leaving keys in a vehicle isn’t quite as mindless, but...well, there he goes,” Jacey said.
Chad took off with a sharp veer.
“I don’t even know if he ever drove in Kenya before heading to college. So now he’s behind the wheel on the wrong side of the vehicle for an American driver, using one hand...and restless.” Lexi sighed and picked up her radio.
“Calling in reinforcements?”
“I’m letting Mac know, just in case.”
“You should be happy Chad’s going off looking for the guy or, at least, clues. Isn’t that what you want? For the poacher to get caught?”
Lexi took advantage of a Masai woman approaching with a toddler and young girl in tow to avoid answering. Jacey was right. Wasn’t Chad doing exactly what she wanted him to do? Why was she worried about him leaving the camp? Was it only out of fear for him or was there more to it?
The little girl coughed then gripped her mother’s skirt.
“Has she been coughing a lot?” Lexi asked. She remembered the little girl—Malia. She’d been to the clinic about a month ago, but she had been in pretty good health then. Lexi knew her mother spoke good English.
“Only a little. It is so dusty and she was playing with her brother near the goat pens. You told me to bring them back for a second shot.”
“Yes. I’ll get their boosters ready. Jacey, would you mind pulling out her file?” They kept all their records the old-fashioned way—with paper and file folders. Computers and the generator to charge them were too unpredictable. They had a laptop, but when it came to patients, she had to be able to access their records no matter what. Jacey handed her a mini-file and began triaging the next family.
Lexi took her stethoscope and listened to Malia’s chest and back.
“Cough for me, sweetie.”
Malia obeyed.
“Well, she sounds clear right now,” Lexi said to Malia’s mother, as she draped the stethoscope around her neck again. “But promise me you’ll let me know if that cough gets any worse, or if she makes whistling noises when breathing or if she develops a fever.”
“I will.”
Lexi gave the kids their requisite boosters and sent them to Jacey for the rest, while she took over the second family. The path to the clinic had now filled with people, and the sound of their voices, traditional greetings and small talk, and even the cries and laughter of children, warmed up the clinic. These people, she realized, made Kenya and this tiny camp feel like home. It wouldn’t be without them.
Her decision to put down roots here didn’t necessarily make it home. It was the people. And disconcerting as it was, something about having Chad around the past few days had made it seem more complete, somehow. A little more secure, like she could let her guard down just enough to sleep more soundly.
She bit her lip as she disposed of a needle in the designated red safety container. It angered her that she felt that way. She didn’t need anyone else to make her life complete. She’d gotten this far and survived. She didn’t need Chad or any other man to make her feel secure. All she wanted from Chad was his presence so that they could keep the clinic open and functioning.
* * *
CHAD SLOWED DOWN as he approached the second enkang. The first had showed no signs of unusual activity. His outing so far had been uneventful. So uneventful that he had radioed in
to check on the clinic enough times for Jacey to yell at him and order him to stop mothering them.
Him? Mothering? He’d never live it down if another marine overheard that one.
He’d called out of guilt for leaving them for a few hours, but he couldn’t take sitting around the clinic anymore. If he was going to spend a week out in the Serengeti because of a poacher, he was darn well going to find him...even if it meant attempting to drive.
Only days ago, he had convinced himself he was as good as bedridden and now here he was, driving—badly, but driving.
He stopped near the open gateway to the homestead’s thorny enclosure. He’d chosen this village because it had no nearby trees or boulders to hide behind. One of the herdsmen, clothed in orange and blues, had even waved to him from a distance.
He took a drink of water before getting out. An older fellow with loop earrings that stretched his earlobes to his shoulders and a staff of twisted olive wood nodded in greeting.
“Sopa. Kasserian engeri? The children are well?” the man said to him.
“Asante. Thank you, yes, they’re good.” It was a customary greeting of the Masai. It didn’t matter that he didn’t have children. He had his second cousins and Maddie’s little one...and Lexi and Tony’s unborn kid. “Has everything been okay here? Your family?”
“Yes, yes. Everything is good. May the rains come and make everything better.” He tapped his staff against the earth and shook his head at the horizon. “There will be rain soon.”
Chad followed his gaze. The sky was a crystalline blue without as much as a smidgen of cloud. Except...he squinted thirty degrees south and saw black smoke rising in swirls and billowing outward like a bomb.
“You see that?” he asked. The elder turned and looked. The deep, leathery creases that had framed his smiling eyes and high cheekbones tightened.
“Hatari. Danger. Fire like that is from burning ivory and a dead animal. It means the KWS rangers found a kill. Dead elephant. KWS was here yesterday and looked through our homes. We are peaceful. Raising our children, like you.”