POCKET CHANGE
by Sharon R.

Chapter Three
A Walk in the Woods

And so their work continued on a daily basis at the top of the hill. The mornings found them rolling out of bed, washing at the basin, eating Toomay's breakfast, thanking Toomay and riding up the hill to the clinic. They learned how to catch the annoying tsetse flies that, if not caught and crushed immediately, would seem to follow them with a tiresome purpose until either the rains came or they finally managed to snare them by the leg. The two even had to stop occasionally to perform leach exams on themselves and each other.

Joseph and Toomay were a wonderful source of calm at the end of a long day. Toomay soothed their rumbling guts with tasty regional foods. Plantains, yams, cassava tubers, maize (corn), and rice. They discovered filling dishes like afang soup, banku and kenkey, fufu, Baton de Manioc & Chickwangue and superkanja. Most of the time the dishes looked the same, but the taste was sharply different. Comfort food had a whole new meaning.

Joseph was a proud man. Strong in spirit, the man of the house, but also smitten with his wife. He and Toomay could exchange a thousand words just by connecting eyes. Luka looked on and missed the comfort of a soul mate. Carter wished he'd had one.

Carter was adjusting to his new role and interim country, but he plowed through the day much like he did back home. At least at County he had someone to talk to – someone he had mutual interests with. In the jungle he worked with Luka, but in Carter's eyes the two strained to maintain civility while functioning at the clinic with the necessary communication.

Carter sat back and watched the friendly relationship grow between Joseph and Luka. They spoke with each other in French and English and Carter felt that they did little to include him. He had more in common with the villagers he saw as patients. The few words he had learned in their native language together with rudimentary sign language, smiles, laughs and lollipops gave him a much needed boost. The patients never came alone but, instead, arrived with an entourage. Sometime up to four generations occupied one home and they all tended to the ill one's needs. At times, Carter found himself standing back and taking in the family atmosphere - at once admiring the close ties that bound the people in the Congo, but then feeling ever so lonely as it reminded him of his own loved ones recent deaths, the few that he ever had. Alone in friendship. Alone in family. Yet surprisingly at home in the jungle.

Luka was enjoying this trip. Much different than his stints in Bosnia. There was always an uneasy feeling in the air as they rolled through check points. He was beginning to be able to identify the government militia and rebel troops. The rebels often gave themselves away by their looks of curiosity and suspicion. Their background chatter seemed to vary in language or they were completely silent altogether. The government friendlies searched them for weapons and checked their papers for authenticity. The rebels were more interested in the supplies they carried and the value of the doctors' property. Carter had already lost his cell phone to them. On the third day they liberated him of his watch as well.

Joseph provided Luka with a much needed ally. They just seemed to hit it off, sharing stories of their younger years and courtship of their wives. Joseph was good practice for Luka's French and they gave each other lessons in their native languages as well. The friendship was simple and easy. Carter sat off to the side sulking in what Luka assumed was homesickness. He was quiet, detached but at least enthusiastic about his work. Maybe even too much so.

They were at the end of their first week when, during their lunch break, Carter ventured outdoors to take in the scenery and stretch his legs. At the edge of the clearing on the banks of the fast flowing creek he found Luka who had managed to put together a miniature campsite.

"You found me out," Luka teased. "I thought I'd make my own little picnic area. Have a seat."

Carter looked around and sat in one of the two patio chairs, the red and white vinyl strips faded and sparsely attached. It was a gamble, but one he was willing to take in the name of solidarity.

Silence.

Birds.

The swish and gurgle of the creek.

Silence.

Buzz.

Smack. Another tsetse fly.

Luka shifted in his chair creaking the fragile hinges.

Silence.

Carter wasn't really interested in Luka's past, but for lack of anything else to discuss, he chose the topic by default. "How did you meet your wife?" Carter thought that this would either start a long diatribe of endless Croatian stories, or get him punched out.

"Well," Luka stood, adjusting his waistline after the meal, "One day Danijella came in my uncle's shop in Rovinj. He sold groceries and assorted trinkets. The tourists were his bread and butter."

Carter started feeling more confident that his face would be preserved, but that it might be a long, lingering break. Helping Chibon clean the specimen cups was beginning to look good to him.

"We were kids, she was younger than me, about 16. I caught her stealing a, um," he stumbled for the right English word and gestured towards his chest, "a lady's pin - a broach. She was beautiful. Her mother was Italian and Danijella had her long dark hair and delicate skin." Luka sat on a large rock next to the creek, tossing stones into the water. "I didn't tell my uncle and ended up finding an excuse to follow her home." He closed his eyes and smiled with them as the air around him took on Danijella's scent and energy just for a moment. Just - a moment.

A long night, for sure. Carter settled back in his chair, reclining the frail back until it broke, leaving him in an awkward position on the ground. A positive sign, maybe one which could bring a halt to this protracted chapter of the Kovac saga. Luka helped him up, laughing, but not taking much of a breather from his tale.

"I was already into my years of study at the University and had to wait 2 more to marry her. She was young in age, but her soul far surpassed mine." Luka propped his arms on his bent knees while taking in the cooler shade of the afternoon.

Carter, on the other hand, was already doing the math. Subtracting about 15 years from what he guessed was Luka's current age and multiplying by the number of minutes, finally reaching the total number of hours the story would take to get to present time.

Sigh.

"When she got pregnant it was scary, but not exactly a big surprise. She was stunning when she was at her most pregnant. She was all out here," he put his arms in front of his own belly to show how she would have carried the baby, "didn't gain her weight anywhere else but her belly. She was…," Luka drifted off but kept replaying those wonderful memories inside his head, skipping the stones across the rushing water, a half smile lingering with his thoughts.

As much as Carter regretted asking him, he was taken by Luka's ability to discuss this with so much comfort. "I'm sorry, Luka. I didn't mean to get personal." But somewhere deep inside Carter was that inkling of jealousy as he listened to such memories.

Luka enjoyed talking about Danijella, about the happy times. "I don't mind. It was a wonderful time, there's no reason not to talk about it. How about you?"

"What?" Carter didn't follow Luka.

"How did you meet Abby? In the ER?"

"Oh, well, um," now he had to think. He had to dig up a period of time he was not exactly fond of discussing and tried to remember the sequence of events for that year. "I guess it was when she rotated down to the ER as a med student. She wasn't one of my students and it wasn't very long before the, well… around the time of the ah…" He had never rehearsed this, never spoke of it in particulars, not even during rehab. There were times when Carter couldn't figure out where the good memories stopped and the bad ones took over for that year. "She came to the ER just before I got …" he couldn't finish it and cleared his throat a couple of times. "I didn't really know her well in the first few months. I was away then things kind of got fuzzy, but, in the end she narced me out." Carter chuckled uncomfortably hoping to change the subject altogether.

"Do you remember it?" Luka asked, nonchalantly.

"Yeah, I remember it. Everybody remembers it, Luka. She caught me mainlining left-over Fentanyl after a trauma." The irritation was growing deeper as he was forced to think of, and talk of some very painful times of his life. Times that he had gone to great length to run away from… again.

Luka remained calm almost as though reading from a book. "No, the stabbing. Do you remember the stabbing?"

He had to say it twice? Twice? He hadn't actually mentioned the stabbing, but in his mind he had. For Carter, this had not become what he expected. He got up to his feet, and even tried to form words. Instead he shook his head back and forth, became visibly agitated and decided that in order to keep Luka's inquiring mind from ever wanting to know again, he would have to get in his face.

Which he did.

Squatting next to Luka, close enough to feel his breath on his own face, Carter quietly, with great composure, finished the conversation. "I don't talk about that. I never have. I never will. It would serve no purpose and I would just as soon leave it in the dark, damp recesses of my mind where it belongs."

He got up to leave but was stopped by Luka who scrambled to his feet quicker. "I'm sorry, Carter. I assumed that you had discussed this at length with other professionals, your family."

Carter skirted around him and walked away from Luka back to the clinic. At the last minute he turned around and while walking backwards, put his arms out to the side and exasperated almost as an afterthought, shouted "Mind your own business, Luka. Stay out of mine."

The day continued with the two doctors working at opposite ends of the clinic, using the nurses to do their communicating for them. Carter was functioning in high gear, seeing out-patients and treating the infirmary cases as well. Treating and streeting, Congo style. The regular afternoon downpour only increased the humidity that had become almost tangible. But neither the heat nor the muggy air seemed to slow Carter down. He was doing anything he could to replace the thoughts of Abby Luka had put in his head for him to stew on.

Luka found himself tip-toeing around the clinic to avoid Carter's snipping and sniping. His offer to suture a man's foot wound that was sixth in line for treatment was met with a glaring look from Carter. "No. I've got it, Luka. I'll get to it." Enough to get Luka to back off and find some bandages to put together.

Chibon came from around the curtained off exam room to announce a new arrival: a young girl with a fever. Carter snapped at her. "OK. It'll have to wait. Just … give me a minute." He felt bad about being short with her and tried to convey that with his eyes.

Luka wasn't seeing patients, so he put down the bandages and walked towards the curtain.

"Luka," Carter snapped, "I said just a minute." He was just finishing a wound debridement rushing to make his point.

"You know," Luka said calmly, his head lowered but eyes looking straight at Carter, "It's okay to ask for help sometimes."

Carter finished his work and stood up, stripping off his gloves, walking swiftly past Luka into the exam room. The little girl was sitting on the exam table holding on tightly to her father's waistline. She looked to be a small nine year-old. A beautiful round, dark brown face. Her striking dark eyes peered out at Carter beneath her shiny forehead. Carter, hands on his hips, took a deep breath and sighed trying to get himself back into the groove of the caring doctor.

"Hi sweetheart. Let's see what's going on here." Chibon translated quietly off to the side as Carter put his hands on the girl's neck to palpate her glands. She had a fever, yes, but she also had a sore and red throat. Carter finished the abbreviated history and end-of-the-day exam and sent the girl away with some penicillin. He was exhausted and sat on the stool long after the girl left with her father watching the two walk away hand in hand into the distance, framed by the doorway. Half way to the trees the little girl turned around to look at Carter, giving him a simple smile and tiny wave. It warmed his heart as he smiled and returned the wave.

As they disappeared he, too, walked outside toward the trees – walking and walking. The soggy earth below him soaked into his shoes invading the space between his toes. He just wanted to keep going, to walk all of his sad and disturbing memories away. It was as if the thoughts followed him around like a tse-tse fly. He just wanted to crush them and move on, but instead he hid behind what he considered to be the bad times, dead weight and unfulfilling moments of his life. Running away wasn't so bad, he thought as he marched onward. Just getting some distance… needing to find solitude. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he sloshed through the jungle carpet looking down at his feet , concentrating on the rhythmic swishing under the soles of his shoes.

"Dr. Carter!" A faint woman's voice called for him in the background.

His feet moved without motivation as though the direction he took and length of his gate were oblivious to the destination but in sync with his emotions. The soft soil turned into the crunching of twigs and dried palm leaves as Carter continued his therapeutic excursion, walking away from… away from…

"Dr. Carter, stop. Come back!"

He found the peace he had sought out as the dense foliage above cast shadows among the dappled sunlight dotting the groundcover. An occasional squawk from the animal life above pierced the sweet smelling air, and the fresh sunlight streaked through the tree branches tweaking Carter's humor as it made him think about the pictures in the children's bibles from his childhood. One blue one in particular that was always in his dentist's waiting room.

"Carter!"

He turned around to see Agunda, a small speck in the distance, waving to him from the clinic. In his vague effort to escape from reality, he had traveled clear into unsafe territory. Between him and the clinic building was not only the expanse of the clearing but at least an acre of trees, probably more. The peaceful silence was suddenly foreboding.

"Carter!"

Joseph's words were coursing through his head: "There is always somebody watching you. Somebody you cannot see." In the time it took him to take a breath it seemed as though the jungle had closed in on him. Chin down, he froze and stopped breathing. His eyeballs scouted the periphery as he hoped against hope that he wouldn't hear anything.

"Carter!" It was Luka running towards him at full speed.

Carter finally moved forward picking his feet up faster and faster until he was out of the tree line and practically tackled by Luka.

"What the hell are you doing, Carter?" Luka was out of breath and bent down resting the weight of his torso on his hands propped on his knees.

Carter could only stutter, "I don't know, I… I… just needed to walk…"

Luka lashed out at him, "Was that some sort of lame attempt to kill yourself? Huh? That's stupid. Stupid. You put us and the program all at risk when you pull shit like that." He was sick and tired of Carter's moping. He threw his arms up in disgust and walked back to the clinic leaving Carter on the spot, quite literally.

The last of the patients were making their way out of the building and the nurses were getting the mops and buckets out to begin cleaning up when Luka stepped inside . He felt a need to apologize to the nurses, they were understanding but shaken. Luka sent them home for the evening leaving the clean up to the doctors. Heading to the treatment area he looked around at the mess left for them. The instruments would need to be cleaned – the forceps, needle drivers, scissors. Disposable instruments were a luxury. He laid out what he would need to scrub and prepare them for the autoclave.

Carter was in the doorway, leaning against the frame. "I'm sorry, Luka. I wasn't thinking." He picked up an old, chipped porcelain coated bowl and started collecting the medical instruments around the room. They clanked against the bowl as he dropped them in making it the only sound the two doctors were making.

"I thought you two were over." Luka took the instruments from Carter and dumped his half into the sink. Carter shrugged in response, then took the other half and scrubbed them in a basin of water beside Luka.

So far it had been Luka asking the personal, probing questions. Now Carter wanted to know. "When you and Abby broke up," this got Luka's attention, "how did you know it was really over? I mean, how did you feel inside? I mean…" Carter cleared his throat while Luka formulated a way to tell the most recent lover of his past lover how it felt when they parted ways.

"I think even before we broke up there was a feeling of separation," Luka answered. "She had been in love with you, not me." They kept working, cleaning the instruments without really focusing on each other. "The act itself was almost a relief."

Carter was trying to find some sort of identification with Luka. He did – he understood from other relationships gone bad, but not with Abby. "But you felt bad, didn't you?"

Luka finished scrubbing his pile of instruments and wrapped them in a pack. Sitting in the chair next to the sink he put his hand through his hair combing it back with his fingers. Guy-like discussion with Carter without forced silence or screaming. This was new. "I felt like crap," he said with a smile, "but I knew it was over. I didn't long for her to be around every corner anymore. There was nothing left for us to share - Nothing to look forward to."

The two finished their packs and loaded them in the autoclave before going on to their next chore cleaning the floor. The time passed but with their usual parallel interaction, or lack thereof. Back and forth with the mops, the smell of bleach rising, filling the building. Their mops met when they got to the middle. Luka stood to stretch his back and looked at Carter, hoping to get some response out of him. "Was it the same with you? When you broke up with her?"

Carter shook his head slowly, confused a bit but not quite willing to discuss it with him. He walked away to store his mop but stopped short of the closet, turning around, just a quarter turn. "I still wait for her around that corner. I want to hear her voice on the other end of the phone, and I want to roll over in bed in the morning and smell her hair…" For a moment Carter forgot that there was another party involved in this conversation but halted abruptly when he realized that Luka once shared these same intimate moments with Abby. "Oh, I'm sorry Luka. I…"

Luka was smiling. "That's okay. I understand. But," he was treading water here, "are you sure you are both of the same mind with this?"

Well here was a moment that neither of them thought would come to life. A mutual discussion about Abby. "Oh yeah." Carter was nodding with gusto. "Abby was all about… Abby. Nobody suffers like Abby."

By now Luka had stashed his mop as well and was reviewing a stack of charts off to the side. "It's a topic she knows well. But it's not like you didn't know that going into the relationship."

"Oh, no," Carter replied, "not only was I in lust with her, which completely cancels out rational thought, but I come from a long line of self absorbed, pity dwellers in denial." Carter was laughing and Luka couldn't help but join in.

The two of them got back to work cleaning the clinic and readying it for the next day. Just when Luka thought he had succeeded in getting Carter to talk about anything – anything, Carter added, "On the root level, Abby is completely unable to care about anyone else's problems but her own. She can't give support, and most of the time, when she needs it most, she won't accept any until she has proven that she has saved the world all by herself. She works hard at being both victim and savior."

"Is that what did it?" Luka had been confident long ago that Carter had thrown his arms up in despair.

"I think the turning point was when I was at my lowest, when my grandmother died, and although Abby was there physically, she couldn't be there for me without making it be all about her and her problems." Carter was somewhat relieved to be able to actually put words to his feelings for once.

Joseph was driving up to the door. The thought of going "home" for a meal and some well deserved rest was a relief. Luka had heard enough to make an accurate assumption. "It sounds like you two have some unfinished business."

The two men walked out the door, locking it behind them. "Yeah," Carter admitted, "I guess we kind of walked away from each other. I don't think I have it in me to be her bitch mechanism again."