"Should we wake him up?" Nabulungi asked, her fingers running through Kevin's sweat-slicked hair.
"Let him have a few more minutes," Connor said.
Kevin fell asleep, somewhere between the sixth or the seventh Disney tune they were butchering, or passed out. Connor really hoped it was the former. They were now almost in Kitgum, and both of them could barely feel their feet anymore. All thanks to the Kevin Price-shaped weight on their legs.
"So Elder McKinley, what do you think of Elder Price?" Nabulungi asked with a sly glint in her eyes.
"What do you mean? He's just, you know, Kevin," Connor gestured to the sleeping form.
He could not pinpoint the exact moment when 'Elder Price' had become 'Kevin'. Not that he wasn't already 'Kevin' in Connor's mind since the day they met, but today was the one of the few times he had referred to him by his first name out loud in front of the others.
Connor supposed that under the present circumstances, it would be extremely weird to still be addressing each other formally. When he came to think of it, Kevin never really addressed him as Elder McKinley anymore, ever since his disastrous first week in Uganda. He was 'Connor' when Kevin needed his help, and he was 'McKinley' when he made Kevin annoyed. There was also 'Connor McKinley, you fucker' when Kevin got really really mad.
"You know what I'm talking about. You mentioned that you-" Nabulungi leaned in closer to Connor's ear and whispered, "like boys more than girls."
Connor smiled sadly, "It's complicated, Nabulungi."
"I don't think it is. You two get along very well, much like Arnold and I," Nabulungi explained, "and you do like him a lot."
"Umm…yes, but I don't- I'm not sure Kevin is like me. We never really talked about it," Connor sighed.
"Why didn't you just ask him then?"
"I- I can't. Our whole lives, it's been drilled into our minds that it's wrong to, you know, to be like me. I know better now, I have come to accept who I am. But it took a long long time, for me to stop being miserable and confused. Besides, even though we're not in the church anymore, we're living in a country where people like me gets killed or sent to prison. So that's why I can't. I can't just spring it on Kevin like that, it won't end well."
Nabulungi took a second to digest what Connor said.
"They are all wrong, you know? People should mind their own business and stop dictating who other people should love," Nabulungi declared.
"Well, that's how things are anyway, but thanks Nabulungi. For being one of the five percent of Ugandans who doesn't hate me," Connor laid his head on her shoulder, "and please do not say anything to Kevin."
"What if he's waiting for you to say something?"
"No, he's not. Please, I'm begging you. I promise I'll let Elder Cunningham have the week off so you two can go frolic in the fields all day, if you promise to keep this between us," Connor held up his pinky finger.
"He doesn't need you to give him the week off, he already leaves most of his chores for Elder Price to do anyway," Nabulungi scoffed and reluctantly hooked her pinky around his.
"We have to wake him up now, we're in Kitgum."
Connor hated to disturb Kevin's much needed rest, but they had to get off the bus somehow; Preferably having gained back some sort of sensation in their lower limbs before doing so.
Connor squeezed Kevin's shoulder, "Kevin, hey."
"Elder Price, wake up," Nabulungi patted his knee.
Connor's heart clenched with fear when Kevin did not respond. Oh god, what if Kevin was unconscious? What if he has gone into shock, or whatever? Connor tried to think back to his first aid classes during his district leader training at the center. What are the symptoms of shock?
Nabulungi continued to pat on Kevin's knee, "Elder Price, we are here."
"Here?"
Connor exhaled in relief. Thank god they did not have to manoeuvre an unconscious Kevin down the bus and through the crowded streets.
"Yes, we're here. In Kitgum," Nabulungi slowly helped Kevin upright.
"Gah," Kevin grimaced, "we got any water?"
"Yes!" Connor was glad that he could help. Passing the water was something he could most definitely do.
Kevin took a minuscule sip, before handing the bottle back to Connor, who also took a gulp.
"How are you feeling?" Connor asked.
"The same," Kevin mumbled, "I feel awful."
"You'll feel better soon, once the doctors take your appendix out," Connor reassured, "Come on, let's get off the bus."
—
Connor's 'soon' was a gross overstatement. He will never be caught criticising American hospitals ever again. They had dragged a mostly pliant Kevin from the bus station, through the busy streets of Kitgum, nearly getting run over by scooters, before finally reaching Kitgum hospital.
After that, they were instructed to sit and wait for the doctor, about two hours ago. Doctors and nurses have come and gone, but none of them even spared a glance at them. At least the nurse offered Kevin a bed in the emergency department. Nabulungi was sitting on the bed with Kevin, helping him to hold the bag he was currently throwing up into.
"Isn't appendicitis a medical emergency? Why isn't anybody attending to us?" Connor paced.
Connor stopped the next medical staff who walked passed them, "Sorry, but my friend has been waiting for a long time. He's in pain."
"Someone will be here to see you in a minute," the nurse continued walking.
"A minute? A minute! Someone said the exact same thing 120 minutes ago!" Connor barked.
"Elder McKinley! Calm down," Nabulungi grabbed his arm, "being mean to the staff does nothing to help."
—
As it turned out, a minute in a Ugandan public hospital actually translates into three earth hours. A doctor stopped by Kevin's bed to examine him, gave him some pain relievers, and hooked him up to IV fluids. He was scheduled for an appendectomy and they were left alone again.
"How are you holding up?" Connor rubbed at his temples. The stress of the whole day was giving him a headache.
"Tired," Kevin blinked slowly.
"That makes two of us. Who knows how long this is going to take. I need some coffee."
"You? Coffee? Since when do you ever drink coffee," Kevin yawned.
"Extenuating circumstances and all," Connor sighed, "just go to sleep will you?"
"I'm trying! You're the one who's talking to me," Kevin punched Connor in the arm, "shut up and let me sleep."
The hit barely registered with Connor, there was no real strength behind it.
"Hey! I'm going to let this one slide because I don't hit people when they're down. Literally."
"Yeah yeah, whatever," Kevin muttered.
Connor caught Nabulungi eyeing the two of them with a knowing smile.
"Don't. You promised," Connor laid back in his chair and closed his eyes. Just for a minute.
—
Kevin was finally taken to surgery at ten p.m., seven hours after they arrived in Kitgum. Connor and Nabulungi munched on the sandwiches and carrot sticks which Connor had prepared that morning.
"Where should we stay tonight? Do you think they'll let us stay here with Kevin?" Connor wondered, "I really want a shower and a real bed to sleep in. But I don't want to leave him all alone in the hospital."
Nabulungi listened to Connor rant without offering any suggestions. She suddenly nudged him out of his thoughts when she spotted the doctor approaching.
"Ah, your friend will be fine. The surgery went well, he can probably go home in the morning," the doctor explained.
"That's awfully fast, are you sure? I mean, no offense, but shouldn't he need more than one night to recover enough to be discharged?" Connor frowned.
One night? This couldn't be right. What if Kevin needed longer than one night to be able to get out of bed? Connor was sure that they did not do laparoscopic appendectomy here; and back in America, people are hospitalised for longer than just one measly night after open surgery.
The doctor turned to Nabulungi and said something in Swahili, to which she replied, with a pat on Connor's shoulder.
"He'll be fine, Elder," Nabulungi switching to English.
The doctor spared a glance at Connor before muttering something under his breath and walking away.
"What did he say to you?"
"Ah, it's nothing. You don't want to know what he said," Nabulungi waved, "Come, let's go see Elder Price."
"Uh yeah, I DO want to know."
"Stupid white people telling me how to do my job," Nabulungi spouted.
"Excuse me?!" Connor gasped.
"There. That's what he said. You wanted to know. Now, come."
Connor hoped that this was the very last time he would need to step foot in a Ugandan hospital ever again.