She gave him a funny smile. “Are you my hubby? ’Cause if you are I’ll come sit on your lap and wiggle, maybe make something happen.”
“That’d be good. Maybe I could get rid of this built-up tension.”
“Pilots have such dirty minds,” she said.
His co-pilot had lost some weight but otherwise seemed healthy. Her hair was braided in a loose fall down her back—a German Valkyrie style tonight—and she wore dark shorts and sandals. Her lips and toenails were red. He noticed Starr looking at her legs.
“I’m trying to get my precious bodily fluids back,” she said, indicating the beer. “Are you staring at my legs, Gary?”
Starr muttered something indistinct and fiddled with his pipe. He stuffed it in his shirt pocket.
“Is that a yes or a no? ’Cause you can look if you want.” She gave him a kiss as he came to his feet. Her lips lingered at the corner of his bearded chin. “Don’t worry, doctor, you can’t catch anything this way,” she said.
Starr found his voice. “Maybe I was staring after all.” He cleared his throat and pulled a couple of empty chairs towards the women. “Have a seat everyone. Lucy, I’ve got something you might like better than beer. Gina, you too. You look like you could use a drink.”
“I could. But maybe Lucy shouldn’t.”
“I’m a strong woman, Gina.”
“It’ll hit you hard.”
“I’ll just sip it.”
Starr resumed his seat. “Larry and Finney are going to join us, but I thought we’d get a head start.”
Gina paused to say hello to several people nearby and took the chair beside O’Brien. She blew out a breath. “It’s been a long day.” She looked at him and held the contact for a second. Then to Starr, “Could’ve used your help today, Gary.”
He pulled on his beard. “Spent the morning at the Boma clinic in the foothills. Didn’t get back until a few hours ago. Somebody’s got to go up there once in a while, and after all, I’m the guy in charge.”
She nodded and crossed her legs. “Said goodbye to a few kids today,” she remarked to no one in particular.
Lucy leaned forward with a puzzled expression. “Does that mean what I think?”
“It may as well,” Gina said. “One was a five-year-old kid with a damaged liver who’ll never get a transplant.” Again to Starr, “Severely jaundiced, portal pressure’s out of sight, esophageal varices, spleen’s gigantic…”
“Propranolol?”
“Yeah, for starters. It’s not going to save her.”
Starr nodded, a grave tilt of his head. “We do what we can here.” He glanced all around. “But we can’t handle complicated surgery, and the triage system here is only designed to afford the best care to the greatest number.”
There was a long silence. O’Brien looked at Gina. Her life wasn’t lived in some parallel universe. He realized that now. She was down in the trenches fighting to make a difference, and giving herself away in the process. Maybe he was the one who lived in the abstract. “I would’ve liked to have helped you,” he said, and meant it. “I wasn’t busy and I’m pretty sure Lucy just slept in.”
“You would’ve been in the way, and I couldn’t let Lucy near the place.”
“I’m really better now,” Lucy said. “Really.”
Gina picked up. “Well, if that’s the case let’s have some of that famous punch you’ve made up, Gary.” She leaned back, closed her eyes and ran a hand through her hair. The setting sun gave her face an orange tint and brought out a patch of freckles scattered over her nose like a handful of confetti. She wore a white T-shirt with a scoop neckline and the bottom half of a pair of surgical scrubs. Instead of boots this time she had on a pair of well-worn Reeboks.
“Okay. Who’s ready for the Clinic Special?” Starr said. He turned his attention to a large, frosty pitcher placed on an overturned shipping crate beside his chair. Beads of condensation leaked down the outside of the container and wicked into the pine boards. He gave the icy, cream-colored potion a final stir with a long spoon. “I have to say, Lucy, you look completely rehabilitated. I see our medicine worked.”
“I just hope I don’t gain this weight back when I return to Wisconsin.”
“Ah, the Midwest. Daniel said that you grew up amid all of those Norwegians and Germans.” He picked up a rack of plastic glasses from the table. “Everyone has to try this. Lucy put away that beer.”
She stuck out her tongue at him and looked at Gina. “It would be nice to stay and help out here for a while.”
“We could be roomies,” Gina said. “Only I’ll be leaving at the end of the month. This job…it just wears you out.”
Lucy brightened. “Why don’t you just fly out with us tomorrow. It would only be a couple weeks early.”
Gina turned into O’Brien’s gaze and flipped her fingernails over the back of his hand. “It’d be the first time I ever knew the captain.”
“Sometimes you’re better off not knowing,” he pointed out. “Like Lucy said, we have dirty minds.”
“They certainly deliver an exciting flight,” Starr commented. “Rather like a sleigh ride up and down.” He withdrew the spoon from the mixture and gave it a taste.
“So what’s in this concoction?” Lucy asked.
Starr puffed his cheeks like a dime store Santa. “I pick up the fresh ingredients here, and I bring in the secret potions with me on my flights.”
“From London or Washington?” Gina asked. “He’s got apartments and houses everywhere,” she said to the others. “Oh, and I almost forgot Amsterdam.”
“I do have a house in Washington, D.C. and a flat in London,” Starr said. “But I need them with all of the back and forth I do for this organization.” He poured the mixture into the glasses with a fixed expression. “The apartment in Amsterdam is very small, and I think I’ve mentioned that I don’t have a family so I can spend my free time wherever and however I like.”
“Don’t you have a practice back home?” Lucy asked. “How can you take all this time in Liberia running this operation?”
“I don’t run it Lucy. The French are in charge of the larger organization. But, as I mentioned to Daniel, I do oversee the American contingent, not only at Montserrado but at several other clinics in the area.” He passed the drinks around. “I’m an internist...don’t have a practice back home, never wanted one.” He shrugged. “I worked for the CDC a few years back in tropical medicine, and voila, here I am.” He held up his glass. “Anyway, here’s to—”
“Wait a minute!” A shout came from behind Gina. O’Brien looked over her shoulder and spied Larry approaching.
“Too late,” Starr said. “Here’s to everyone.” He took a long pull at his drink and the others did the same.
“Oooh...Gary.” This came from Lucy.
O’Brien coughed at the cold bite. The beverage was full of fruit with a little sugar and a lot of alcohol. The liquor did a slow roll down his esophagus, scorching cells along the way.
Larry lurched into the conversation while grabbing a chair. He plopped down heavily next to Starr. “Finney’s tied up. He won’t be able to make it tonight.”
“I know Larry, but who’s Finney?” O’Brien asked.
“He’s my normal roommate,” Larry informed him. “The one I have when you’re not here.” He worked the chair into the expanding circle and eyed Starr’s pitcher.
Larry was overweight and pink, the kind of guy who never tanned, only burned. A pair of thick, round glasses rested on a fleshy nose. He was mostly bald, with the remaining hair making a last stand around the sides of his head. A layer of sloppy fat covered his body like a loose wetsuit. He screwed his hound dog eyes into a pleading stare at Starr. “Gary?”
Starr poured another glass and thrust it into his outstretched hand.
“God, what a lifesaver,” he mumbled, and downed half of the drink in a single, slushy swallow. A drop splattered onto his black T-shirt. The orthopedic doc had worn the sweat-stained shirt for the
past two days. The back read ‘Security’, and the front side read ‘Guns‘n’Roses’.
Life was full of mysteries, O’Brien decided.
“And speaking of roommates,” Larry continued, “When do I get Finney back?” He smacked his lips at Starr.
“Tomorrow. These guys will be flying out in the morning.”
“Assuming the airplane’s still flyable,” O’Brien said. “It has a habit of breaking down.”
“It’s a shame you guys have to leave,” Gina said in a quiet voice.
“Gina?” O’Brien touched her arm. “Why don’t you come with us? Seriously, if you’ve only got a few weeks left I’m sure Gary could break you out.”
Starr shifted in his chair. “Actually, I was thinking along the same lines.”
She raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure I follow.”
“There are a couple of considerations.” He ticked his fingers. “One, you’re due to rotate out later this month anyway. Two, the reliability of these planes is apparently becoming questionable, and according to Daniel, you may not have a flight later in the month. And three, Finney says he can handle the workload until your replacement arrives.” He took a swallow of his drink.
Gina looked at O’Brien. Her expression was unreadable, yet his pulse raced for a moment.
“And four, you’re going to have Daniel and Lucy as the pilots.”
“Gary, I’m not packed or anything, and my condo in Jacksonville is sublet to the end of the month.”
“So spend a week or so in my flat in London.” Starr waved a hand. “It’s off Bayswater Road and very nice. It’d be a good change of pace from this place. You could see the sights, maybe go out on a date—you remember what those are, don’t you?” He smirked. “And anyway, when you’re ready, catch your flight back home.”
“Are you sure that Finney can handle these kids? I had a pretty heavy case load today.”
“He can handle it, Gina. It’s only going to be for a week or so.” He reached for the pitcher. “For that matter, why don’t you all stay at my place? Daniel, you and Lucy should be laying over for at least a night or two, and the flat has plenty of room.
“I lived in Brighton for a couple of summers,” O’Brien said. “That’s just south of London. Got a cousin there. I could show you guys around.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “In any case, I’m through with this charter company once we get to London. Period.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Lucy said. “Although…Gina may not want company.”
They looked at Gina. She creased her lips into a smile and softened her features. “This is kind of sudden. Are we going to party while we’re there?”
O’Brien exchanged a glance with Lucy. “Whataya think, Lu?”
“I’m afraid that’s required,” Lucy said.
“Okay then,” Gina said.
Starr seemed pleased. “There you go.”
The meaty scent of sizzling cheeseburgers came up from below riding the coattails of fresh cut fries and onions grilled in beef fat. The smoky aroma was pushed upwards from the kitchen by an exhaust fan with the power of a diesel locomotive and it hit the crowd hard.
Lucy sat upright and looked around. “What do I smell?” O’Brien heard her stomach growl.
Starr’s nose twitched over his dark beard. “Damn. Cheeseburgers with onions. C’mon Lucy, everyone. There’ll be a crowd tonight. The French turn up their noses at American food, but they’re always first in line for these things.” He stood up. “Anybody else?”
Larry drained his glass with a loud sucking noise. “I’m still working on your pitcher, Gary, if that’s all right. I’ll be there in a sec. Save me a place.”
O’Brien glanced at Gina. She seemed in no hurry to leave. Neither was he. “I’ll catch up later,” he said to Starr.
“After we finish off the drinks.” Gina put in and passed her glass to Larry.
“Don’t be too late guys,” Starr warned them. “You know how it is.”
They watched as Starr draped an arm over Lucy’s shoulder. She moved into his embrace and maintained the contact all the way to the door.
“The mystery man,” Larry commented as they walked away.
O’Brien said nothing. The icy slurry in his drink had melted and he finished off the liquid with a quick toss. Larry divided the dregs from the pitcher in three ways.
“Thanks, Larry. And thanks again for putting up with me for a couple of days.” The doctor’s face became a slice of reflected light in his glasses. Darkness had fallen, a veil so black there seemed to be a texture to the atmosphere. Gas lanterns illuminated portions of the rooftop.
“You’re not such a bad roomie. At least you’re normal. I’m beginning to think that some of the doctors here are a little weird, Gina excepted.”
“That’s an odd statement,” Gina said.
“Maybe it is, but maybe I know some things that you don’t.”
“Like?” O’Brien and Gina spoke together.
The doctor gave the bridge of his bifocals a nudge. “Who knows? It could be nothing. I’ve always had an overactive imagination.” He drained his glass and stood. “Maybe I’d better go. Anyway…cheeseburgers.” He lurched toward the door.
“Larry?” O’Brien came to his feet.
“What?” He staggered back on a heel.
O’Brien ran a hand through his hair. “Look, if you know something, tell us. This place is dangerous enough without walking around in some kind of fog.”
The man flicked a glance toward the door and seemed to take in the nearby tables. “Daniel, let me ask you,” he said in a very low voice. “How does a doctor with no practice and only a moderate salary from the government end up with three houses, maybe more. No one knows what the hell he actually does here. He’s gone all the time on these mysterious treks into the hills, and he flies to Europe and back at every chance...” He turned his palms upward. “I mean, what the hell’s going on?”
O’Brien said nothing, and after a long pause the man walked to the door.
Gina looked up. “What was that all about?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know exactly. Nothing’s seemed exactly right from the day we picked up the airplane in Brazil.” He sat back in the chair and took a breath as her fingers slid into his. What did that mean? His heart thumped with the touch. “Anyway, I’m glad we’re getting out of here tomorrow.”
There was a long silence and she said, “This seems kind of natural.”
“You mean your…your hand?”
“Yeah, touching you.”
“You have no idea how nice that feels to me.”
“Me too.”
He tried to get back on track. “I wonder about Larry.”
“You mean whether he’s involved in something?”
He tried for a straight face. “No, whether he’s actually been to a Guns and Roses Concert.”
She laughed. “You’re a funny guy sometimes.”
“You mean when I’m not beating up somebody?” He slipped into a grin.
“Yeah.” She put her glass down and shifted in her chair. “Listen, Daniel, maybe I’d better go pack…or we could stay here and hold hands.” She brought his hand up.
“You mean like third graders?”
“Yeah.”
“Or I could kiss you,” he said.
“I wondered about that, whether it’s too early for me, for you.”
“I think we think too much. After all, we’ve already had a double date.”
She grinned. Her hand was still warm in his. “You can’t reach me in that chair.”
“Then we’ll have to stand up.” He helped her up from her chair and motioned toward the railing.
“Where’re you taking me?”
“I’m trying to be romantic and I want to savor this if I can stop my idiotic heart from killing me.”
“Mine to,” she whispered.
Despite all of the earlier commotion, the porch was now quiet. O’Brien could count less than a half-dozen tables
that still had people pulled up around them. The soft glow from the lanterns added to the mood. He nodded toward the far edge of the porch. “Let’s talk over there.”
They moved to the railing and looked out onto a black void. There was no moon, and the line where the earth met the sky was indistinguishable. Lights from cooking fires merged with pinpoints of starlight to create a seamless universe. It might have been a view from a spaceship.
“You’re not hungry?” Gina dropped his hand and put her arm around his waist.
“Only for you.” O’Brien put his arm around her as she turned toward him. The faint blush of light on the porch gave her features a delicate outline. She reached up, pulled the clip from her hair and shook it free. The heavy locks cascaded past her shoulders and O’Brien ran a hand through the silky strands. He bent forward to a light fragrance of lavender.
“Gary and Lucy left us conveniently alone, didn’t they?” Gina said slowly. Her lips brushed his.
“They’re hungry people,” he said. His mouth was dry.
“So am I.” Her lips were parted as she slid her fingers inside his shirt. Suddenly he was kissing her. He tried to catch a breath and couldn’t. Her lips were sweet and soft and parted for him as he touched her tongue and tasted her mouth. The light brush of her fingertips against the bare skin of his chest sent a surge of hardness into his groin. She melded her body into his and pulled him against her. He became weightless in a tilted world.
She moaned softly against his lips. Her eyes were closed. “God, Daniel...”
“Shhh...” he verbalized with enormous effort.
He bent his head and kissed her straight nose and her eyes, and ran his lips lightly over her cheeks, and felt her lips on his face in turn. Again her mouth opened and she pulled him inside. He was falling from a great height, spinning in vertigo, and he couldn’t let go.
The sound seemed to come from a far galaxy as it slowly intruded into O’Brien’s consciousness. It moved closer and became louder. The sound was outside the two of them, and therefore didn’t matter.
At some point, and O’Brien had no idea how long this information took to process, he recognized the sound as someone’s cough.
He pulled away from Gina with a sense that he’d left his last breath on her lips.
Errand of Mercy: How far do you run, and where do you hide? Page 10