POCKET CHANGE 2: A GAME OF CARDS
by Sharon R.
Chapter Seven
The breeze picked up tossing Sean's hat into the swirling dust and dirt particles. Running to get ahold of it, he stopped short, turning instead to face the security gate in the distance. At the same time Bob rose to his feet, his eyes fixated on the figure entering the camp alone. Yet another huge gust of wind forced the camp workers to cover their faces as they were pelted by the debris. The howl created by the swirling wind as it funneled between the steel hangar and the other newer buildings mimicked some of the wild animals heard at night. Caught off guard, Sean had to work hard to blink the dirt from his eyes while hacking his already parched cotton mouth of the muck.
She was the only woman on the continent wearing shorts; khaki shorts with a matching button down shirt, weathered hiking boots and cuffed socks. One end of a paisley blue scarf tied around her neck dipped into her well defined cleavage, the other tussled in the wind occasionally flying back in her face. Underneath an Australian cowboy hat cinched under her chin, was a long mop of tight red curls tied back into a ponytail. She had at least three cameras slung over her shoulders and a large framed hiking backpack strapped to her. While the folks unloading the truck struggled to stay on their feet and see ten feet in front of them, the visitor walked with confident purpose through the blowing dirt.
"Well, tie a knot in me knickers," Sean exclaimed with a look of brilliance in his green eyes, "looks like we got ourselves some window dressing coming through the gates."
Maggie and Luka wandered over to Sean's vantage point, interested in who would be arriving on foot. "Careful Griffin," Maggie cracked over the rumble of the idling truck, "wouldn't want you tripping over that third leg of yours."
The tall woman finally made it to where the group was standing between the hanger and the Midway. With even her face caked with the dry African soil, she was stunning. Rugged… but stunning.
"Hey, I was covering the goings-on in the village last night and heard about your little project here." She spoke with a rough, flat American voice. "Thought I'd see if there was a story in it." She turned her head and unceremoniously spat on the ground. "I'm Colleen Reilly, freelance photojournalist." She wiped her hand on her shorts before holding it out to shake the hand of each person who introduced themselves, lingering with Luka and nearly passing Sean up.
"Well, a nice Irish lass," he blurted out as he vigorously shook her hand. "I'm honored."
The others could almost hear Colleen's eyes roll back into her head as she pulled her hand out of Sean's. "Jesus H. Christ, another homesick Irishman. Don't you people have enough suffering souls at home to tend to?"
Her obtuse words didn't even phase Sean as he continued to stare at her while brushing the dirt from his pants and trying to smooth out his shirt, all in vain.
"Does he drool too?" she mumbled not so quietly.
The truck finally pulled away revealing Carter at the side reviewing paper work with Norman. Colleen dumped her pack by the clinic and approached the two introducing herself to them as well.
"Welcome, nice to meet you." Like the other men in camp, Carter couldn't help but appreciate Colleen's good looks. But unlike Sean, he kept his feelings in check. "And this is Mr. Tyson, he's a financial manager."
Norman sized the woman up as she reached for one of her cameras and started snapping pictures. "You've hired out publicity? I didn't see this on the line item budget, Dr. Carter."
The woman quickly changed out cameras. "Holy shit, you guys don't mess around. You got your own in-house bean counter."
With that Tyson huffed off leaving an embarrassed Carter with the red head.
"Did I say something?" she asked as Carter threw his head back and whacked it with his own hand.
"Nope. It's okay."
The two stood there smiling at each other.
"I guess you've met everybody. How about some breakfast?" The two walked up the steps of the Midway where she stopped and turned towards Bob who had taken in the morning activities from his usual background spot in the peanut gallery.
"Bob," she spouted with a monotone, disinterested voice as she looked him in the eyes.
"Reilly." Bob leaned his chair back on two legs, teetering back and forth. Lighting his first cigarette of the morning he pulled his cap back over his tired and hung over eyes, purposely ignoring the guest.
Carter stepped back through the open door. "You two know each other?" he asked her quietly.
"Bob and I crossed paths in the Middle East years ago."
"That answers one question," Carter muttered to himself. "At least we know 'Bob' is his real name."
"Uh-huh, sort of." Colleen quickly lost interest as she held the screen door for Carter. "It's his middle name. Come on. Let's see what kind of grub you guys cook up."
The door smacked shut on Sean's gaping mouthed face as he rushed to get into the Midway with Carter and Colleen. "Boy, she's something," he exclaimed with bravado as he opened the door.
"She's something alright," Bob commented from under his hat.
"Dr. Kovac, can I have a word with you?" Todd caught up with Luka on the porch.
"Sure. Why don't we sit down out here." The two sat on the top step below Bob's propped up feet. "What can I do for you?"
"Um, I don't really know how to… like, I don't think I, um…" The young man stumbled through his words while he nervously played with the buttons on his shirt.
"Is this about Dr. Carter?" Luka surmised.
"Um, yeah. I don't really know how to act around him. He doesn't like me much and Sean told me I had to work with him. I mean, no matter what I do it's wrong. And… and he makes me so nervous. I'm just a bumbling idiot. So… so… I just don't know what I'm supposed to do."
"Maybe you're trying too hard. Hmm?" Luka looked at the boy's face for a sign of understanding. "Dr. Carter really is an awfully good person. Did you know that the money for this camp, for the most part, is coming from him and his family's foundation?" Todd shook his head in surprise. "Talk to him, Todd. Ask him questions. Ask about his experiences, about his life growing up. I bet you'll see you have more in common than you thought."
Luka sat at the "family" table across from Carter and Colleen who were in deep discussion about the camp. Across the room sat Todd by himself, away from the rest of the diners.
"You should really talk to him. He's a nice kid," Luka said as he sat with his breakfast plate.
Carter sagged his head down almost into his food as he contemplated having a meaningful conversation with Todd Casey. "Here we were, learning about one another over a lovely meal and you had to interrupt with that bit of wisdom?" He was only half joking with Luka.
"Look at him." Luka pointed over Carter's shoulder with his fork. "He has such an empty look in his eyes." Carter finally turned around on the bench, eyeing Todd. "The other kids are nice enough, but he just doesn't fit in."
"There's probably good reason for it."
"Come on, Carter. He's not going anywhere. You might as well try to put some of that Carter polish on him."
"Yeesh, like I'm not already tarnished." Carter sighed a couple times, wiped his face with a napkin and waved Todd over to the table. "Come on Todd. Dr. Kovac's hot air has opened up a spot over here."
The awkward young man looked around the room to see if Carter was talking to another Todd, then with great reserve, picked up his plate and moved to 'the' table where the people in the know sat.
"Todd Casey, this is Colleen Reilly. She's thinking of taking some pictures of the camp," Carter half heartedly worked in between his final bites.
"C.J. Reilly," Todd shook her hand over the food, "I know. Pullitzer Prize winning photojournalist. I studied some of your work for a communications class at Syracuse, Ms. Reilly. Wonderful stuff."
Carter nearly choked on his food as he was trumped by his tag-a-long pain in the ass.
"Well, I'm flattered Todd. And it's just Colleen." She worked the compliment like a paste of liniment: slow and steady. "How nice to know that my work is being put to such good use."
"Uh-huh." Bob had saddled up to the table. "Why don't you put yourself to good use here and work some of that coffee down this way, Reilly?" Colleen ignored Bob who eventually stood up and reached across her to get the pot. "What's in the envelope, Tut?"
Carter had forgotten about the large white envelope that had arrived in the mail earlier. "Oh, well it's top secret. I'm sure you understand, don't you?" Carter pushed it across the table to Luka. "You need this more than I do. I'm pretty sure there was never a Croatian version." The two exchanged mischievously humorous looks as Luka took the mysterious envelope and put it with a couple other mail items he had picked up for the clinic.
"Croatian, eh?" Colleen spoke. Then without a beat - "I love smoking a good Croatian cigar."
Luka was right in the middle of a sip of his coffee and quite literally gagged at Colleen's quip, spilling some of the hot liquid on the table. Bob, too, smiled just a little but managed to cover it with his hand.
"What?" Carter asked, out of the loop. "Luka, are you blushing?"
"Thanks for the meal. I'm going to go talk with the kids over there." Colleen stood and gathered all of her equipment."
"Someone want to clue me in here?" Carter almost begged.
"Just a Croatian inside joke," Luka mumbled, still a bit flustered.
The sound of a cell phone ringing - something none of the workers there had heard in weeks - caught everyone's attention as heads swiveled to find out who had a phone that actually got reception. The eyes eventually fell on young Todd who pulled a small phone from a protector velcroed to his belt. Pressing a button to answer it, he barely said two words before ending the call and returning the phone to its previous location on his hip.
"Wrong number?" Luka asked facetiously.
"Um, no. My…," Todd shifted in his seat nervously, "… my mother."
"Nobody else gets reception here. Are you telling me you do?" Sean asked wondering where he too could get a phone like that.
"Well, no. Actually I can't hear her, and she barely hears me, but just answering it makes her feel better, I guess." He kept his eyes down at his empty breakfast plate as he explained this bit of personal and perhaps embarrassing information.
Toomay broke the silence and almost scolded those who were silently laughing at the kid. "I think it is wonderful that you let your mother check up on you." She started clearing plates and leaned down to give Todd a hug around his shoulders. "You are a good son."
"By the way, Bob," Carter worked this one in carefully, "I hear that 'Bob' is actually your middle name."
"Been on a fact finding mission Dr. Carter?"
"Yeah, how about sharing your first name with us?" Luka put his laced fingers in back of his head as he leaned his chair back on two legs a la Bob.
"Quit while you're ahead, Einstein." Bob put down his cup and rose to leave, stealing one last look at Colleen who had wandered back to join the table. "Been interesting, but I've got real work to do."
"And what would that be, Bob?" Carter's boyish smile matched Luka's as he enjoyed ribbing the close mouthed agent.
"Yeah, well Carter, I understand you have secrets of your own."
"Oooooh." The two doctors laughed at Bob as they finished their coffee.
"If you're leaving camp, can I catch me a ride?" Sean asked. "I need to go pick up a Land Rover waiting for me in Gulu."
"Ooh," Luka raised his eyebrows, "Sean's getting some wheels."
"Yeah, sure. But only if you bring Lurch over there with you. I don't want you driving back alone."
"Bob, you know his name is Othiamba," Carter gave him hoping Bob would respect the man's name.
"Hey, big boy," Bob shouted to the end of the table, "do you mind if I call you Lurch?"
"No sir," Othiamba answered, "not at all."
"There. See?" Putting his hat back on, Bob left with Sean and Othiamba.
"Hey," Maggie had been standing in the doorway listening, "you two frat boys done telling dirty jokes? 'Cause I'm missing a 12-pack of Cefotetan ADD-vantage."
"Yeah," Carter looked up at Maggie who was standing above him with an inventory check list. "I sort of borrowed it last night. Actually, traded it for some platelets for the Wiant woman. Inventory is bound to be off for a while as we get into a routine." He could tell that Maggie was puzzled over their seeming lack of control and concern for the meds, but knowing Maggie, she'd settle in soon enough.
"Don't get too anxious over stuff like that," Luka added. "I'll do the worrying if things aren't accounted for right away. It takes time."
"Yeah, right."
Colleen rested her hand on Carter's arm as they talked more about the camp, ignoring Luka and Maggie who had little enough to exchange in the best of situations. Pouring herself a cup of coffee, Maggie feigned interest in the discussion as she wondered what Bob meant when he said that Carter had secrets. He was a few years older than when she last worked with him in Chicago, certainly more refined as a doctor. But there was something about him that wasn't there before. Something reserved, something… she just couldn't put her finger on it.
"…it's a date, then. I'll see you later, John." Colleen rose and joined the college students getting up from their table.
Maggie lost her train of thought as she pointed to Colleen at the other end of the room. "Miss Universe over there get her 'Save the World' piece?"
The college students were enjoying their moment in the spotlight as the well known journalist took pictures and chatted with them.
"What. Are you jealous?" Luka snatched a disgusted look from Maggie as he looked at both Colleen and then Carter.
"Of her?" Maggie snorted. "Hardly. Look we have a few patients. We should round before the busses get here with the new refugees." Maggie was glad to get up and exit through the front door as Colleen went out the back with the students, leaving Carter and Luka there with a reluctant Todd.
"Alright Todd. Let's see how you do in the clinic. You can help me there today. With your science background and your father being a doctor, it shouldn't be all foreign to you."
"Oh, I… I… don't do well around blood."
"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Carter mumbled. "It's not all about blood. You'll be okay. Go on over and introduce yourself to the nurses. We'll be over soon."
Luka grinned at Carter and managed a couple chuckles as they were left on their own.
"What?" Carter was lost with Luka's impish look.
"John? A date?"
"Oh no. Don't go there. I am not…"
"Are you telling me you're not interested in her? That she's not drop dead gorgeous?"
"I didn't say that." As Carter back peddled, he failed to find the right words and shook his head at an amused Luka. "Uh-uh. No, Luka, not… don't…" Carter realized that he wasn't going to win and stood to leave. "Come on. Work to do. Chop chop."
"You bet, John," Luka kidded him, "it's a date."
The doctors started with Mrs. Wiant who luckily had not experienced any immediate reactions to the platelet transfusions. The staff had to wear protective gowns into her makeshift isolation bed since the steroids were slowly damaging her immunities.
"We'll get another sample over to the hospital later today and if your count is over 30,000 we're going to transport you to Kampala and then back to the states," Maggie explained. "There are too many things here you've never been exposed to before and your compromised immunity can't fight off some of these tropical diseases. How are you otherwise?"
"Well, aside from the fact that you won't let me brush my hair or teeth, and I feel like I've been run over by a truck, not too bad." The woman was dealing with bruises all over her body and the places they tried to get her large bore IV established had added to her discomfort.
"Well it's good to see that your sense of humor wasn't affected." Maggie patted the woman's hand.
"Thank you, Dr. Carter," her eyes wandered above Maggie to the other two doctors, "for putting up with me most of the night."
"Not a problem. I'll see you later." The doctors exited the area and headed to the next patient, stopping first to shed their protective layers.
"You were with her all night?" Maggie asked him. "Aren't you tired."
"Yeah, well I'll catch a nap here and there."
"Okay, Dr. Carter. I'm ready." Todd had finally mastered the sterile gown, however the exam gloves covered only four of his ten fingers, the other six lost inside the tangled mess of latex.
"Oh. Well, we're done with Mrs. Wiant now. You can get that stuff off." The three left Todd in the middle of the clinic struggling just as hard to de-gown as he had initially to get the stuff on.
"Gee Carter," Maggie chided him on their way to the next patient, "I see Benton had an effect on you after all."
Two buses and one flat bed farm truck arrived a few hours later with the first group of refugees. These people were not only separated from their Congolese homeland, but they had sought out refuge in another camp to the north only to find that the Sudanese who had occupied the camp ostracized them. They had their few rations and tarps used for shelter stolen and when the LRA rebels made visits to the camp looking for women and children to kidnap and enslave, the Sudanese were more than willing to point in their direction to save their own asses. Now they were considered displaced refugees, kind of like a double negative. Finally after a year and several news pieces, the Ugandan government shifted them to the new Carter Foundation/Alliance camp now known as the Pakwach Congolese Refugee Camp - or PCRC.
The three hundred and thirty-five mostly women, children and elderly were hungry, tired, disheveled and untrusting. Lining up at the hangar doors, they said little and expected less as they were processed one family at a time. Even the children made few sounds if any as they endured several vaccinations and a physical exam. As Luka and Carter examined the children and men, Maggie began what would become a non-stop chore of providing gynecological care to the women and even some of the female children. Although they had become accustomed to being raped, the unfamiliarity of a pelvic exam was extremely frightening to most. It took a calm Maggie and a couple of nurses to interpret and hold the patients' hands just to get through it. Most suffered from sexually transmitted diseases and all were tested for HIV, though the results were days away. None of the pregnancies were the result of marital sex and even sadder were the very young girls who now had physical injuries to their reproductive and sex organs from the abuse.
By late in the day the three exhausted doctors took a break in the back office. The humor of the morning long since gone, they sat and stared through the large glass windows out into the treatment area where the last of the refugees were being processed.
"It's like a big old drive-in movie," Maggie said as she sat with her tired hands in her lap, head hung low and eyes scanning the activity silenced by the glass between them.
"What?" Luka asked.
"A horror movie. All right out there in front of us. Except we don't get to drive home to suburbia after the credits."
Carter picked his chair up and put it in back of Maggie, straddling it. He gently laid his hands on her shoulders and began to massage them. "Remember back at County when things got real insane we would find an empty space and give each other a massage?"
Luka stood back taking in the rekindled years-old friendship, only slightly envious feeling like the third wheel.
"Well there was that one time," Maggie's eyes were closed now as she started to let go, "when Weaver busted into the supply closet during one of our relaxation therapies."
"Oh… Oh yeah. And she had a slew of new students with her on the Great Weaver-Tour," Carter remembered. "It was hotter than piss that day. We took our lab coats and shirts off. I was down to an undershirt and I think you had on a tank top. You'd restrained a wacked out OD earlier and put out your back."
"I was up against the wall and you were working intensely on a knot in my lower lumbar region," Maggie was laughing hard now as she retold the story. "I mean you were going to town. Weaver walked right in on us and nearly tripped over her own cane trying to get out."
"Yeah, but not before lecturing us about having sex in the workplace. I don't think she realized…"
"… no I'm sure she didn't," Maggie finished for Carter. "Come on, take your shirt off and I'll return the favor." She had stood up and was more than willing to switch places. "You've been favoring your back an awful lot."
"Ah," Carter contemplated the way to answer her, not the answer itself. "Ah… no. I don't think so." He stood from his chair and folded his arms in front of him almost without thinking.
Luka picked up Carter's uneasiness and stepped up. "Sounds like you two got off easy. She must have hardened by the time Malucci came around."
"Who's that?"
"Dave Malucci, oh God." Carter sat on the desk next to the beaten up CD player. "He was a wild child resident and definitely not a fan of Weaver's. She caught him in the act in one of the rigs with an EMT. Fired his ass right there."
"But not before he got in the last word," Luka grinned, "or words, that is. Nazi dyke, I believe."
Maggie smirked at the comment and started to say something to Luka but was stopped short.
"Doctors, If you'll excuse me, I have work to do," Norman announced as he entered the office, quickly sitting at Carter's desk. From his satchel he pulled out his ledger books, a bundle of sharpened pencils all the same length, a travel clock which he opened and placed in front of him and three CD's - the first of which he put into the player. After carefully lining up his materials on the desktop, then lining them up again, he pressed the 'play' button and opened his first ledger. Unmistakably the doctors were subjected to - opera.
Life at the PCRC plugged away over the next couple of weeks with a steady stream of refugees arriving, a few leaving and the staff working tirelessly. Bob was in and out with not much fanfare. Colleen, too, came and went as her assignments pulled her away, although when she arrived the attention she garnered from the staff and the refugees was much different than with Bob. Her biggest crowd pleaser among the Congolese was a Polaroid camera and when time and film availability allowed she took pictures of the children for their mothers. One child brought her elderly grandfather to Colleen and asked that his picture be taken instead of hers. The seasoned man, probably with only months left on earth, held onto that picture of the stranger he had never seen before and showed it to everyone who gave him a minute almost as though looking for confirmation that the person in the picture was indeed him.
Poor Todd trudged on following Carter around and doing whatever odd jobs were thrown his way. In the clinic he helped where he could, but the staff could only tolerate so many bed pans and mop buckets crashing to the floor. The safest job he had thus far had been recording medical findings during exams. The large index cards had exam stickers on them indicating all of the areas of the body the doctors and nurses examined. Checking them off and making notations as they were dictated to him was easy enough, but keeping the cards orderly and away from the large fans seemed to be quite a difficult task. With Carter covering nights occasionally at the village hospital and working daily at the clinic as well as handling the overall operation of the camp, his patience and willingness to hold Todd's left hand while the right was waiting for his mother's call, was waning. Luka tried his best to encourage the young man and find busy work for him when Carter wasn't around, but Todd became more and more disinterested and lonely.
Maggie and Carter spent as much free time together as possible talking about County and the people who had moved through there. Interesting cases, career choices and even family were brought up time and time again. Colleen hung around the clinic garnering friendships with Carter and Luka. After a prolonged period of time spent outside of the states, she appreciated the company. They enjoyed her stories of the war torn countries, developing nations and political turmoil she had covered. There was no mistaking that they also respected her outspoken feminine wiles and endured ribbing from Maggie who felt the need to point out that Colleen was shopping around for someone else's bed to sleep in besides her own - an opinion neither one of them supported publicly, at least.
It was another hot, dry and dusty late afternoon as the drought continued its assault in Northern Uganda. With the nursing staff at a vaccination clinic in a nearby town, Carter was using the quiet time in the office trying to draft a letter to attach to a grant application the Foundation's grant writer had forwarded to him. He was stuck on one particular thought and couldn't seem to get past it.
With more than 22 million African women becoming pregnant each year in malaria endemic areas, the simple two-dose treatment of sulfadoxine-pyrimethamine would prevent effects of the disease that cause low birth weight, birth defects and fetal death. However,
Carter drew a blank as he struggled to stay focused, then started back at the beginning.
With more than 22 million African women becoming pregnant each year in malaria endemic areas, the simple two dose treatment of sulfadoxine-pyrimethamine would prevent effects of the disease that cause low birth weight, birth defects and fetal death. However, Ridi, Pagliaccio, sul tuo amore infranto. Ridi del duol che t'avvelena il cor.
Carter pushed his chair back and thunked his head on the small table. The same CD Norman listened to yesterday and the day before was now snaking its way into Carter's mind as the exasperating man sat at his desk - Carter's desk - mindlessly conducting the opera with a pencil.
"Sometimes I find a Thesaurus helps," Luka mentioned as he walked into the office. "Not the wimpy one on the computer, but the original hardcover." Leaning over Carter's shoulder, he read the words. "… low birth weight, birth defects and fetal death. However, laugh, you clown, at your broken love. Laugh at the pain which poisons your heart." Luka sat down in the chair next to Carter. "Pagliacci again?"
Carter thunked his head one more time in the affirmative.
"I've got something that might help." Luka held his hand out to Carter. "Toomay went into the village today and scored big."
"Eggs?" Carter puzzled.
"Hard boiled eggs," Luka replied with a grin and a wink. "I thought perhaps a flatus event might take care of the situation."
Taking the egg, Carter chuckled loudly knowing that Norman didn't know the story about his grandfather and opera he had told Luka about while they were holed up in the hut. "You're evil," he told Luka while rolling his egg on the desk in order to peel it.
"I know," Luka was ahead of Carter, his egg half gone already. "So, tell me about you and that tall drink of water."
"Colleen? What about her?"
"You know," Luka nodded and wobbled his head like Carter should understand his thoughts. "Is it going anywhere?"
"Ha! No. I, ah, am not interested in getting involved with her." Carter and Luka gave each other looks like only two men can who know that if they were living and working in another normal environment they would be pitting their testosterone against each other to win over the chick.
"Okay," Luka said unconvinced, "how about Maggie? You two have spent a lot of time together, which does nothing for me by the way."
Carter laughed as he tossed the bits of egg shell into the garbage can. "Maggie and I have some professional history together, which we are just getting caught up on. I'm really not her type anyway."
Just then both Colleen and Maggie came through the door, each taking their hands out of their pockets bearing gifts.
"Somebody in here ask for eggs?" Colleen said loudly enough for Norman to hear. The inside joke had obviously been exposed as Carter and Luka could no longer contain themselves and nearly rolled on the floor in laughter. The girls tapped their eggs on the desk top in front of Norman and peeled the shell away all with the controlled look of a comedy duo sidekick while the two doctors reveled in their evil humor.
The lightness in the air was suddenly broken by the reverberation of an explosion in the not so far off. Jumping to their feet, the four waited, almost frozen in place, for the ultimate screams of panic and ensuing chaos.