He had spent three weeks in Matenda. The hut that had served as shelter earlier had been burned to the ground when he arrived. It had taken a few days to build a new one, but it was okay. The Mai-Mai were guarding the area closer every day, yet he stopped caring about his life. It was a blur, it meant nothing. No one would miss him, no one would mourn. He would just be another body, rotting away in the schoolhouse. He hadn't seen Kem since they landed. He quickly rushed off, heading for his next plane to take him to Kisangani, and then to Matenda. He hadn't even talked to her on the plane ride here, which was saying a lot since it was about ten hours in flight. He starred out at the grim countryside, being lighted by the full moon. He had wanted to come back here, to lessen the pain he had felt earlier. And now he only hurt more. It was the opposite, the other way around. He wasn't supposed to think about her. She had wanted him to get out of her life. She finally seemed happy. Because he left.
It had been all his fault that she was depressed, miserably, unhappy. He took a drink from the cup of water he held in his hand. He was alone in helping these people, besides the occasion nurse that came down from Kisangani with supplies. He liked it that way. The people knew him. They knew he only wanted to help them. He was a god to them. He felt like the most insignificant person to them. They all had families, and even through the worst times, they stuck together. He couldn't keep a relationship together, even if he tried. He had no one. He sat on the wooden stairs, remembering the day he had come home, changed. He had just seen his life before his eyes, and the better part of those memories consisted of Abby. And he had simply wanted to tell her that he loved her. She pushed him away. She put her walls back up. He knew her better than he knew himself. He had hurt her. He couldn't stop thinking about it on the way home. He just wanted to make it right. He made it worse. Of course, both were to blame. He shouldn't have left. And she should have talked to him. He heard a car coming up the path, and saw the headlights a few seconds later. It was someone from the hospital, the red cross was visible, even in the dull light.
"Dr. Carter?"
He started to get up, heading to the car.
"Yes?"
The man behind the wheel seemed tired, yet he had gotten here. Someone else came out from the other door, and she walked over to him.
"I'm Dr. Sanders, I"m taking over here for you for a while. You need to get back to the capital. Your wife is having a miscarriage."
He looked at her in confusion.
"My wife?"
She shook her head.
"Makemba."
He looked at her, questioning her intentions.
"She's not my wife. That's not my child."
She looked at him, in complete shock.
"She was asking for you, Doctor."
He looked back at the hut, and then back at the doctor. She looked so young and naive.
"I have six critical patients inside, monitor them closely. The rest come during the day."
He watched her nod her head, and then he headed toward the passenger door.
"Congratulations."
He got in without saying a word, and he watched her for a second before turning back to her.
"Don't let the Mai-Mai push you around."
He watched her smile reassuringly, and she waved them off. He relaxed in the car, resting his head against the back of the seat. He hadn't exactly forgotten about Kem. He just selectively chose not to think about her. He worried about her, yes. But he just couldn't pretend that this child was his. That he was completely carefree with her. It was too complicated. He closed his eyes, and the sound of the engine and of the silent world lulled him into slumber.
He woke up, a few hours later, a cramp in his neck, and sunlight blasting through the windows. He looked at the driver, and he seemed more awake and refreshed. He didn't know where he was, only that he had reached a city. Within a few moments, the driver pulled up in front of a hospital.
"Here she is, Doctor. Third floor, Room 145."
He got out slowly, testing the ground. He thanked the driver, and headed up the stairs. He reached the desk, and questioned the nurse about the whereabouts of Kem. She was exactly where the driver had said, Room 145. He followed the nurse, and upon entering he saw Kem. He rushed in, running to the end of the room.
As he got closer, he realized, she was not alone. A man sat on a chair next to her gently kissing her hand. He walked up to her, and he saw her stir.
"John?"
He looked at her, then at the man, giving her a questioning gaze. The same was repeated for the man and him. He was trying not to be angry, or afraid. He watched the man stand up, wipe her forehead with a wet towel.
"Shh, don't speak my Makemba."
He said it in a lulled whisper, kissing her forehead gently.
He watched Kem's head fall back onto the pillow, and she fell back asleep, her body weak from the recent tragedy. A nurse walked in, and ushered him and the man out of the room. He walked out first, and leaned against the door.
"How is she?"
The man gave him a glare, burning right through him.
"I do not think that to be any of your concern any longer."
His accent was heavy, yet Carter managed to understand what he was saying.
"I am worried about her, that's all."
The man gave him another one of his glares.
"No need to be, she is well cared for. Enough, in fact. So I suggest you forget you ever knew her."
The man had authority. The way he held himself. The way he talked. He watched him walk back to Kem's bedside. He started toward the door. He had no reason to stay.
He started toward the central Red Cross Building, from there he could arrange a ride back to Matenda, and he could also check his mail, as if anyone would even remember about him. He got the building, and checked in at the desk. He was told to wait for a moment while they looked for someone who was headed to either Kisangani or Matenda. He sat down, and was handed a cold soda. He sipped it slowly, and heard a laugh from a few feet away.
"Well look who it is, Richie Rich."
He looked up and saw Debbie walking toward him.
"Hey you."
She smiled at him.
"I heard you were in town, but I wouldn't believe it till I saw it."
He laughed.
"Thanks."
She handed him a few papers.
"I gotta go, but great to see you again."
He flipped through the papers, and somewhere from the African Embassy, asking him to renew his papers. There was a card from County, some paperwork he had asked to be shipped over, and a letter with no return address.
It had been all his fault that she was depressed, miserably, unhappy. He took a drink from the cup of water he held in his hand. He was alone in helping these people, besides the occasion nurse that came down from Kisangani with supplies. He liked it that way. The people knew him. They knew he only wanted to help them. He was a god to them. He felt like the most insignificant person to them. They all had families, and even through the worst times, they stuck together. He couldn't keep a relationship together, even if he tried. He had no one. He sat on the wooden stairs, remembering the day he had come home, changed. He had just seen his life before his eyes, and the better part of those memories consisted of Abby. And he had simply wanted to tell her that he loved her. She pushed him away. She put her walls back up. He knew her better than he knew himself. He had hurt her. He couldn't stop thinking about it on the way home. He just wanted to make it right. He made it worse. Of course, both were to blame. He shouldn't have left. And she should have talked to him. He heard a car coming up the path, and saw the headlights a few seconds later. It was someone from the hospital, the red cross was visible, even in the dull light.
"Dr. Carter?"
He started to get up, heading to the car.
"Yes?"
The man behind the wheel seemed tired, yet he had gotten here. Someone else came out from the other door, and she walked over to him.
"I'm Dr. Sanders, I"m taking over here for you for a while. You need to get back to the capital. Your wife is having a miscarriage."
He looked at her in confusion.
"My wife?"
She shook her head.
"Makemba."
He looked at her, questioning her intentions.
"She's not my wife. That's not my child."
She looked at him, in complete shock.
"She was asking for you, Doctor."
He looked back at the hut, and then back at the doctor. She looked so young and naive.
"I have six critical patients inside, monitor them closely. The rest come during the day."
He watched her nod her head, and then he headed toward the passenger door.
"Congratulations."
He got in without saying a word, and he watched her for a second before turning back to her.
"Don't let the Mai-Mai push you around."
He watched her smile reassuringly, and she waved them off. He relaxed in the car, resting his head against the back of the seat. He hadn't exactly forgotten about Kem. He just selectively chose not to think about her. He worried about her, yes. But he just couldn't pretend that this child was his. That he was completely carefree with her. It was too complicated. He closed his eyes, and the sound of the engine and of the silent world lulled him into slumber.
He woke up, a few hours later, a cramp in his neck, and sunlight blasting through the windows. He looked at the driver, and he seemed more awake and refreshed. He didn't know where he was, only that he had reached a city. Within a few moments, the driver pulled up in front of a hospital.
"Here she is, Doctor. Third floor, Room 145."
He got out slowly, testing the ground. He thanked the driver, and headed up the stairs. He reached the desk, and questioned the nurse about the whereabouts of Kem. She was exactly where the driver had said, Room 145. He followed the nurse, and upon entering he saw Kem. He rushed in, running to the end of the room.
As he got closer, he realized, she was not alone. A man sat on a chair next to her gently kissing her hand. He walked up to her, and he saw her stir.
"John?"
He looked at her, then at the man, giving her a questioning gaze. The same was repeated for the man and him. He was trying not to be angry, or afraid. He watched the man stand up, wipe her forehead with a wet towel.
"Shh, don't speak my Makemba."
He said it in a lulled whisper, kissing her forehead gently.
He watched Kem's head fall back onto the pillow, and she fell back asleep, her body weak from the recent tragedy. A nurse walked in, and ushered him and the man out of the room. He walked out first, and leaned against the door.
"How is she?"
The man gave him a glare, burning right through him.
"I do not think that to be any of your concern any longer."
His accent was heavy, yet Carter managed to understand what he was saying.
"I am worried about her, that's all."
The man gave him another one of his glares.
"No need to be, she is well cared for. Enough, in fact. So I suggest you forget you ever knew her."
The man had authority. The way he held himself. The way he talked. He watched him walk back to Kem's bedside. He started toward the door. He had no reason to stay.
He started toward the central Red Cross Building, from there he could arrange a ride back to Matenda, and he could also check his mail, as if anyone would even remember about him. He got the building, and checked in at the desk. He was told to wait for a moment while they looked for someone who was headed to either Kisangani or Matenda. He sat down, and was handed a cold soda. He sipped it slowly, and heard a laugh from a few feet away.
"Well look who it is, Richie Rich."
He looked up and saw Debbie walking toward him.
"Hey you."
She smiled at him.
"I heard you were in town, but I wouldn't believe it till I saw it."
He laughed.
"Thanks."
She handed him a few papers.
"I gotta go, but great to see you again."
He flipped through the papers, and somewhere from the African Embassy, asking him to renew his papers. There was a card from County, some paperwork he had asked to be shipped over, and a letter with no return address.
