Good Medicine

by Bobby Hutchinson

  “Maybe that’s what you need to do, then. Just keep in mind that you take all your emotional baggage with you, along with your underwear, no matter where you travel,” Helen reminded her. “Wherever you go, there you are,” she quoted with her teasing smile. “Any idea where you want to go?”

  Jordan shook her head. “I’ll have to find a job before I make any changes. There’s the legal bills to think about.” It was too soon to speculate.

  But later that afternoon, she explored the Web for Ahousaht. Photos showed a wild and windswept village surrounded by the Pacific Ocean. She learned that until now medical care had been provided by the nurse at the local clinic and a doctor who flew in twice a week. Emergency cases were transported by medevac to the hospital in Tofino on nearby Vancouver Island. But the community’s requirements had changed, and now the Tribal Council needed a full-time doctor. The salary wasn’t what Jordan earned in the E.R., but neither would there be shift work. And housing was included.

  Impulsively, Jordan took out her cell phone and dialed the number she’d copied down.

  The number rang and rang, and she was about to hang up when a man answered.

  “Hello?” There was a note of impatience in the man’s deep and resonant tone.

  “Oh, um, yes, hello.” Damn, now she was losing her confidence. Her hands were sweating and she could hear the strain in her voice. “My, um, my name is Jordan Burke, Doctor Burke, and I’m calling about the medical position. Is it still available, or have you found someone?”

  There was a moment’s silence. “I don’t know for sure. Call back another time. The office is closed for the day.” His tone was brusque, bordering on rude.

  “Well, can you just tell me—”

  “Nope, I can’t. You need to speak to Bennie, he’s the rep from Tribal Council.”

  “Bennie? Bennie who? Does he have a last name?” Jordan was over feeling nervous and well on the way to being annoyed. Surely he could be more helpful?

  “Just Bennie will do fine. He’ll be here in the morning.”

  “And you are—?” This person should never be answering a business phone. She’d say so, in the nicest possible way, when she talked to this Bennie, Jordan decided.

  “Silas Keefer. And I’m hanging up now, Jordan Burke. There’s a celebration I need to attend.”

  “Oh. Sure. But first can you just tell me—”

  The line clicked and a dial tone sounded. The bloody man had hung up on her.

  Jordan pushed End and shoved the phone into her bag with more force than was necessary. Whoever, whatever Silas Keefer was, he’d succeeded in discouraging her from applying for the position.

  SILAS HAD FORGOTTEN about the call by the time he took his place in the welcoming circle. When his turn came to hold the fragile baby, he cradled him against his heart. The tiny boy seemed too small to bear the weight of his sturdy name.

  Hello, Cameron Michael John. Welcome, Nuu-chah-nulth warrior.

  Cameron was barely a week old. Silas gazed down into the little face. The baby’s skin was golden and downy, and he looked up at Silas through big dark eyes. One minute fist, curled into itself like a seashell, flailed and then came to rest on the front of Silas’s flannel shirt, and his man’s heart swelled in his chest. He never got used to the miracle of new life. He hoped he never would.

  You, young Cameron, have plenty of time to grow into your name—and you’ll be growing up right alongside your parents.

  Alice Pettigrew, Cameron’s mother, was barely sixteen, hardly more than a child herself. And his father, Hogan John, had two full years to go before his twentieth birthday.

  Children, raising children. At least here in Ahousaht, Cameron and his parents were surrounded by family, mothers and aunts and fathers and grandfathers. Most of them were here today and Silas knew all of them were willing to help in any way they could.

  The shy young parents sat side by side holding hands as the members of the welcoming circle cradled the newborn to their hearts and hummed the traditional ahhhh nook, ahhhhh nook deep in their chests. Conveying love and welcome and support. Then they sang the welcoming songs, the dancers up and moving to the beat of the drums. Silas said a prayer, and as soon as the blessing was complete, got to his feet and headed toward the door.

  His half sister, Christina Crow, caught him just before he escaped.

  She gave him her wicked wide grin. “Hey, Silas, you’re coming to Mom’s birthday party tomorrow night, right?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be there.” They both knew he wouldn’t stay, but he’d put in an appearance. He was, after all, Rose Marie’s firstborn. After her divorce from Silas’s father, Angus Keefer, Rose Marie had married Peter Crow and five years later she’d had Christina. Twelve years after that, Patwin, her third child, was born, but Christina was the half sibling Silas really knew well. Patwin hadn’t been home much since Silas had moved back to Ahousaht. And Silas was profoundly solitary.

  But who could help loving Christina? She’d been born smiling. Tiny and slender, his half sister had thick black hair permed into a curly, electric frizz. Her dramatic, high cheekbones, deep-set eyes and glorious copper skin drew the hungry glances of men. But it was her sunny nature that captivated people as much as her beauty. She had a streak of mischief that made her fun to be around, and her smart mouth brought shocked smiles to even the most dour of the elders.

  Over the six years he’d lived in Ahousaht, Christina had somehow wormed her way through all the protective barriers Silas had erected.

  And just like all the women in the family, she was nosy as hell.

  “So what’d you get Mom for her birthday?”

  “That marble pastry board and lazy Susan she’s been eyeing in the new kitchenware store in Tofino.”

  “Super.” Christina beamed up at him, dark eyes sparkling. “That’s gonna get you brownie points, big brother. Dad and I each got her another one of those copper-bottomed pots she’s nuts about.” She shook her head and her curls lifted and settled. “Mom’s the only woman I know who actually wants kitchen stuff for her birthday. I’d flatten anyone who gave me pots instead of perfume.”

  “How’s it going with Andy?” She’d been dating Andy Makinna for a couple of months now.

  “It’s over.” Christina shrugged and wrinkled her nose. “Him and Eli didn’t get along.”

  “That kid’s got a good shit detector.” Silas hadn’t been particularly fond of her latest admirer, either. Good for his nephew for putting the run on the guy.

  “Yeah, well, Eli’s gonna end up supporting me in my old age unless he takes a shine to one of these guys pretty soon.”

  “He’s only eight. He’s got lots of time to dig up a stepfather before that.”

  Christina rolled her eyes. “I’d just as soon have a man who’s breathing.”

  “I’ll pass that on to Eli, but a woman with a personality problem like you have can’t be too fussy.”

  She grinned and thumped him on the shoulder. “Take your own advice, older brother.”

  “I’ll give it my best shot.” Silas gave her a quick hug and eased past her, toward freedom.

  Christina grabbed a handful of his shirt and held on. “Why not stay for coffee?”

  “Can’t. I’ve got a deadline on an article, and I’m trying to improve the Ahousaht Web site.”

  She knew it was an excuse, but she didn’t challenge him. “Okay. See you tomorrow morning at the meeting, then. No applicants yet for the medical posting, I’m beginning to wonder if we’ll ever find a doctor who wants to come and live here.” Christina was nursing supervisor for the medical center. She was the one who’d convinced the Council about the advantages of having a resident M.D.

  “You know, somebody did call about that posting.” He’d forgotten all about it till now. Silas was one of the band’s healers, but he was the first to admit the need for both healing modalities. “Just before the ceremony, I dropped by the band office to get some stuff Bennie left for me, and the phone rang. It
was a woman. She asked if the position was still open. I told her I didn’t know.”

  “Did you get her name and number?”

  “Her name was Jordan, Jordan Brick or Bruk or something.” Silas shook his head. “I was late for the welcoming ceremony. But I did tell her to call back and talk to Bennie before I hung up on her.”

  Christina gave him a look. “Probably the only person who’ll ever even think of applying, and you pissed her off right up front, eh?”

  Silas shrugged. “You know me, I’m not exactly Mr. Congeniality.”

  “Mr. Porcupine is more like it.” Christina shook her head and rolled her eyes. “You need a crash course in human relations, big brother.”

  He smiled down at her, not in the least offended. “I’m way too old to change my wicked ways.”

  “Thirty-six going on ninety-seven?”

  “If that woman really wants the job, she’ll call back. And she’ll have to really want it or she’ll never stick it out through the first few weeks of culture shock. She’ll find out—” he ticked them off on his fingers “—there’s no sushi bar, no movie theater, no health club and it’s a forty-five minute trip by water taxi to the nearest pizza joint, which for some strange reason won’t deliver. And then there’s the rain. Mustn’t forget we have an annual rainfall of a hundred and ninety-six inches. So if I was a little abrupt on the phone, it’s a good thing—a test. We’ll see how determined she is to live on an island populated by wild Indians.”

  Christina blew a raspberry. “The elders hear you call us that and they’ll revive scalping. You make it sound so bad anybody would turn tail and run. If by some fluke she phones back and even comes for a look-see, maybe you oughta lay low while I convince her there actually are advantages to living in Ahousaht.”

  “If she comes, I’ll stay out of the way. Promise.”

  Christina shot him a mischievous look. “Come to think about it, that’s not the best idea, either, big brother. If she’s single, the sight of you might entice her to remain in spite of the rain and the lack of a mall. You’re not half-bad to look at, although your manners leave a lot to be desired.”

  Laughing, Silas made his escape when someone else came by to talk to Christina. He took the path that would lead him out of the village, along the forested path to where he’d built his compact cabin.

  The rain that had been falling all day had stopped. The rising wind, chill and brisk, blew the clouds away, and overhead the late-afternoon sunset streaked the sky crimson and gold. Boats rocked at anchor in the bay, and kids in T-shirts raced up and down the gravel road on their bikes, impervious to the chill air. He was thinking about what he’d said, about there being no pizza joint in Ahousaht.

  Personally, he’d settle for a faster and more reliable connection to the Internet.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  A CAB DROPPED Jordan and her two gigantic suitcases on the end of the pier just after ten on Monday morning, June 26. As well as her sizeable medical bag, she also had two shopping bags stuffed with groceries. The small convenience store in Ahousaht reputedly carried only the most basic essentials, so she’d just visited a large grocery in Tofino.

  “She leaves at ten-thirty or thereabouts,” the cabdriver said, waving a hand at a decent-size boat bobbing in the water at the bottom of a walkway. “You got lotsa time.” He eyed the suitcases with a distinct lack of enthusiasm. “I’ll get these on board for ya.”

  He was a small, older man, and he walked with a limp. He’d struggled with the bags at the small airstrip the evening before, when Jordan arrived from Vancouver. He’d carried them into the inn where she’d spent the night and then lifted them back into his cab this morning. Envisioning herniated disks and heart attacks, Jordan tipped him lavishly and shook her head.

  “Nope, not again. You’ve been great, and I thank you for the offer. But I’ll get someone on the boat to help me. You’ve wrestled with these long enough.”

  He looked relieved. Thanking her profusely, he hurried away through the rain before she could change her mind.

  Unsure what to do next, Jordan hefted her medical bag, abandoning the suitcases and groceries on the dock. By now quite wet, she clung to the railing, gingerly making her way down the slippery wooden ramp to the tiny floating pier. Moored to the dock, the aluminum boat the cabdriver had pointed out rocked as she scrambled aboard.

  There was no one on the small deck. Feeling awkward, hoping she wouldn’t slip and catapult straight down into the cabin, Jordan gingerly climbed down the narrow ladder, surprised by how large the interior was.

  There was space for about twenty-four passengers, and so far, she was the only one. Two tall, heavy native men were seated in the cockpit, talking as they drank from gigantic mugs of coffee. They turned and looked at her, dark, weather-beaten faces devoid of expression.

  “I want to go to Ahousaht,” she began. “I’ve left a couple of heavy suitcases and a bunch of groceries up on the pier. Could someone help me carry them on board?”

  Without a word, the younger man got up. When Jordan turned to follow him, the older man shook his head and motioned at a seat.

  “Billy’ll get them.”

  Jordan set her medical bag down and slid into a seat. “Thanks, that’s very kind.” She reached into her handbag for her wallet. “How much is the fare?”

  “You’re the new doctor.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Yes, I’m Jordan Burke. Hi.” She got up and they shook hands, hers swallowed by his rough paw. His scarred face softened into a smile.

  “Charlie Tidian. No charge this time, Doctor Jordan Burke.”

  “Thank you, skipper.” Jordan smiled at him. “You make the trip back and forth from Ahousaht every day?”

  “Twice a day. The boat’s also used as an ambulance, if anybody needs to get to the hospital and it’s not urgent enough for the medevac.”

  “How long does the trip take?”

  “Forty-five minutes in good seas.”

  Billy heaved her suitcases to the deck and then stowed them and the groceries at the back of the cabin, and soon people began trickling aboard, most of them First Nations. A young, pretty girl with a toddler and a huge backpack, an older woman, four young men. A middle-aged couple, obviously tourists, outfitted head to toe in Tilley gear, took the seat across from Jordan. The man whipped out a digital camera and began filming the boat and its occupants, concentrating on the mother and toddler and the older woman. Jordan figured he was being rude as hell, but the three ignored him.

  At ten-thirty, the captain started the engines and the boat slipped away from the dock, heading at ever-increasing speed out over the gray-green expanse of water.

  As the mainland disappeared, Jordan thought back to her first and only visit to Ahousaht three weeks earlier. She’d taken her car that time, driving from Vancouver to Horseshoe Bay and catching the Nanaimo ferry across the Inlet. It had taken three hours to navigate the twisting and terrifying Island Highway to reach the village of Tofino. There, feeling more and more as if she’d reached the end of the world, she’d chartered a floatplane to Ahousaht.

  The isolated island village had both appalled and appealed to her. Sunshine shimmered on the water, blue-gray mountains rose in the distance and thick forest surrounded the sprawling frame buildings. The only road was a rutted dirt track that snaked its way up island. If she’d wanted isolation, it didn’t get any more remote than this.

  The chief, council members and the nursing supervisor, Christina Crow, had greeted her warmly. They’d asked a lot of questions, including why she wanted to come to Ahousaht.

  Without going into details, she’d told them her marriage had ended and that she wanted a complete change of scene. Her résumé spoke for itself, graduation at the top of her class and several years at St. Joseph’s E.R.

  They’d been touchingly honest about their community: the isolation, the lack of amenities, the unique customs of the First Nations people.

  She’d admitted little knowledge of thei
r culture, and giving her two books, they’d left her alone with coffee and a plate of brownies. By the time they decided to hire her, the plate was almost empty, she knew a little about the history of the Nuu-chah-nulth people—and she was on a sugar high.

  Jordan had accepted their offer on the spot.

  Now, however, she wasn’t so sure. She tried to suppress her apprehension as the distance from Tofino increased, but finally gave in and let her emotions run. Aware that the Tilley couple were watching her bawl, she turned her face to the window, pretending to be intent on the small islands rushing by.

  “Be aware of what you’re feeling. Don’t censor it, don’t struggle to subdue it,” Helen had advised. “Allow the emotions to come and just watch them. Darkness can’t survive when you let light in.”

  Back in Vancouver, Jordan had been certain that this drastic life change was right and good for her. But as the minutes ticked by, she began to wonder.

  She’d sold her car and many of her belongings, making the trip from Vancouver to Tofino by plane this time. There really was no point in having a car on an island where the majority of the community was within walking distance. And they did have a rusted-out ambulance for emergencies.

  The boat chugged along, rising up high and then slapping heavily down on the waves. The noise of its props and powerful twin-engine motor finally soothed her. Whatever lay ahead was out of her control.

  The tension in her neck and arms gradually subsided and she relaxed. For these brief few moments, she could just be.

  Half an hour passed. Ahead, the clouds began to dissipate, revealing blue sky in patches overhead.

  The water taxi skirted a long finger of land and several crab boats before turning into an inside channel, bordered by a wild, rocky shoreline. A few houses came into view, gray and weathered against the thick evergreens.

  The boat glided past a fish farm and then more houses on the left and a long brown building with the sign Motel and Restaurant.

  They finally arrived at the ramshackle dock, where a purse seiner and a cluster of fishing boats bobbed in the waves. And just as Jordan was wondering what to do with her unwieldy suitcases and grocery bags, Billy hoisted them out of the boat.