“Yeah, she got some sterilized maggots or something, and put them in the wound. They ate all the diseased flesh so she was able to operate and close up the healthy tissue,” Bette explained and then laughed at Madison’s expression. “Come on, you have to admit that’s clever. They eat only the bad flesh, the corpulent stuff, and leave the healthy tissue.”
“Yeah, but maggots,” she sneered, her nose wrinkling at the thought.
“She explained to Doctor Foster that she had seen the technique used before and felt it was appropriate here as they didn’t want to be cutting out all that flesh and get too much of the good stuff. This way, all that was left was to kill the maggots and clean the wound, stitching together the remaining healthy flesh.”
“It’s known as maggot debridement therapy,” Bonnie explained
Madison was done with lunch and with the conversation. She got up to take her tray to the trash when Bonnie piped up with, “There she is,” using her chin to point at the doctor who had just come into the cafeteria. She was surrounded by the crème de la crème of the doctors in their small-knit community, all vying for her attention.
Madison looked up to see high-top sneakers in rainbow colors. She had never seen any like that before. They were very colorful…and very bright. Her eyes followed the high-tops up the legs. Long slacks on a lean waist led up to a buxom figure that was very attractive. Her doctor’s lab coat was a brilliant white, her name embroidered across the lapel in red versus the black that the rest of the doctors had. As Madison’s gaze took in the woman she stared, wondering if she had met her before. She looked very familiar…and yet…not. She looked to be in her early twenties, but for all her experience, she had to be in her thirties or forties at least. Her hair was a deep brown and had shades of blonde and more red streaks in it. Madison couldn’t tell if it was real, natural, or colored. She watched the woman for a moment, trying to figure out if she knew her and why she seemed so familiar. It was as the woman lifted her hand, the one with a large signet ring on the ring finger, and began rubbing her eyebrow thoughtfully with the tips of her fingers, that Madison realized she did indeed know the woman. The woman wasn’t in her twenties after all, she was the same age as Madison’s thirty-six years. The gesture so familiar, so endearing, she knew who that woman was in an instant. Just then the woman looked across the cafeteria to find Madison gazing at her and although at first startled, she smiled in delight. She said something to her companions and came across the lunchroom to meet her.
“Hello, Maddie, it’s been a while,” she greeted her familiarly.
* * * * *
All in an instant she recalled how she had met Doctor Kearney. She hadn’t known her as Doctor Kearney…then. It had been a misunderstanding of gross proportions.
As Maddie and three other relief workers drove out to the site in East Africa to begin their tour of duty with UNICEF they were admiring the countryside…the hot, desolate countryside. It was dusty, it was barren, but it wasn’t what any of them had expected. There were rolling hills covered in brown grasses, brush, even occasional trees.
“This is our dry season,” the rich South African accent of their guide told them. He explained that the seasons consisted of the rainy season and the dry season, not much more than that. “It is hot even in our winter here,” he rolled his ‘Rs’ richly and with relish.
Maddie decided she liked how he spoke and smiled whenever he looked her way, as if to encourage his explanations of what they were seeing and what he was telling. “Do you get floods?” she asked to get him to keep speaking.
“Yes, very badly,” his own million-watt smile faded, the rich white teeth against his very black skin now hiding behind his grimace as he explained how dire the consequences of flooding could be to the people they would be helping. “It is very primitive,” he explained as he gestured at the countryside, “like nothing you are used to.” He went on to explain how they were teaching primitive people modern techniques to farm and use the land. “They don’t listen,” he said sadly. “They want to plow up everything and not save the land in spots to let the water run off safely, which leads to massive erosion. This is very bad.”
The ride to their camp in Mamadu took three hours from the port on the Red Sea that they had flown into. Lamish was a coveted port and one of the many reasons for conflict in this part of Africa. By the time they arrived they were all covered in dust, half asleep, and very cranky. The two Americans—Maddie and a farmer from the Midwest who was going to help to teach new techniques—were acquainted since they had met on their plane from Paris to Africa. There were two others: one, a nurse like Maddie from Australia, and two, a bureaucrat from Switzerland. Maddie was certain the farmer wouldn’t last long. He had ideas to help the natives, but didn’t want to learn from them. The little she had surmised from him showed him to be narrow-minded. She had found you could learn a lot from people if you just listened. He was so certain he was going to change their world, he forgot they’d been husbanding this land for centuries.
“No doctor?” Lakesh had asked when he picked them up in the port. Their luggage was stacked high on the battered Rover he was driving and tied down to the roof.
The four of them exchanged looks and shrugged.
“None of you is Doctor Cooper?” he inquired. His intense black eyes looking out at them, a stark contrast to the whites of his eyes that were tinged with a little yellow. Maddie wondered about that yellow and if it could be jaundice.
They shook their heads and introduced themselves. Maddie was a nurse and Harlan a farmer. Leida was the other nurse from Australia, and the bureaucrat was Thomas, pronounced ‘Toe-mass.’ He made sure to pronounce it slowly, clearly and articulately so they all got it right. Maddie hid her amusement at his arrogance.
“Hmmm, they won’t be happy without Doctor Cooper,” he stated as he herded them into the Rover. Three sat in the back, Maddie, Leida, and Harlan, and Thomas took the front seat as though he belonged there.
Leida introduced herself to Maddie saying, “I guess us nurses will be working together, eh?”
“I’m sure we will,” and they chatted a while with Harlan between them. He tried to contribute, but his opinions centered around what his farming techniques would do to enrich these poor underdeveloped countries’ economics. Maddie and Leida had exchanged a look that showed they had a mutual understanding and opinion about that. Thomas ignored them all except to talk to Lakesh occasionally, usually to ask how much longer the trip would be.
“Doctors Without Borders, they fly in, they fly out,” Lakesh explained, a quarter of the way into their long drive. “Doctor Cooper supposed to fly in, miss flight,” he further explained. “Then to drive, but you no see.” His pigeon English was endearing, at least to Maddie’s ears. He didn’t point it out, and Maddie wondered if she was the only one to realize there wouldn’t have been room in the Rover for another person.
They were nearly to their destination when they saw another Rover on the side of the road. A shapely derriere was visible as someone leaned into the engine with the hood propped up. At the noise of their vehicle, the head popped up out of the engine. They were all surprised to see the grease-spattered face of a white woman. She made it worse by rubbing her nose on the back of her hand and trying to flag them down. Lakesh slowed their vehicle.
“You need help?” he said jovially in English.
“I’m headed for Mamadu. Am I on the right track?” a decidedly Bostonian accent greeted him with a smile.
“Yes, this is the road to Mamadu,” he confirmed. “You a mechanic?” his voice sounded hopeful.
“Well,” she said, spreading her arms and showing her greasy hands, “when I have to be.”
“Ah, good. We need ‘em mechanics,” he assured her.
“Well, I’ll catch up to you all later,” she said dismissively since no one had offered to help. They all looked at her curiously. The deep browns and blondes of her hair couldn’t hide the definitive red streaks in it. She was perspirin
g in the hot African sun, the grease and the sweat mingling on her face and dripping into a t-shirt that barely hid her assets. Maddie and the others smiled and nodded. They could get acquainted when they all met in Mamadu. Lakesh drove on and waved. If she had wanted help, he would have stopped, but she seemed to have it well in hand.
They arrived in the camp and were immediately surrounded by other relief workers. The Red Cross sign was prevalent on the buildings as well as the supplies they had brought with them. UNICEF and other organizations contributed to this ragtag collection of helpers. There were two full-time doctors, no nurses, and many assistants. Most of the assistants were black Africans whose tribes had been decimated by disease and war in this part of the continent. Trying to fight back against the diseases was the reason that Maddie and Leida were here. Trying to get the population back on its feet and feed itself was Harlan and others’ jobs.
“Hi, I’m Richard Burton, not to be confused with the famous Richard Burton, but Doctor Burton and I run this little outpost of iniquity,” he introduced himself with a self-deprecating smile. He was a tall, spare man, balding, with glasses and a French accent.
“I’m so happy you are both here,” he said to Maddie and Leida. “We’ve been in need of nurses for months. I hope you will help train our assistants as your time is valuable and they learn fast.”
“What happened to the other nurses you had?” Leida asked as she grabbed a box of supplies that Lakesh handed down, still sporting that jovial smile accentuating the startling contrast between his white teeth and black skin.
Doctor Burton looked uncomfortable. “You might as well know…they were killed in a small skirmish east of here. They were both male nurses and helping some of the villagers.” He was reluctant to tell them any more so he quickly changed the subject. “This is Alex Whitley,” he indicated another man who came up to grab a box. “He is in charge of the day to day,” he explained. “Which one of you is Thomas?” he asked, using the American connotation of the name.
“I am Thomas,” he said frostily, correcting the pronunciation to Toe-mass.
“Oh, excuse me,” Burton said with a smile. “You will report to Alex there,” he nodded towards another man as he took a box, then indicated the two women should follow him.
“Who do I report to?” Harlan asked as he took two boxes, showing off his bulging muscles.
“And who are you?” Burton asked, his French accent more pronounced.
“I’m Harlan Baker, I’m a farmer,” he said proudly.
“Oh, I didn’t know they had sent you. I was hoping you were Doctor Cooper,” he said, almost insultingly. Recovering, he quickly added, “You’ll meet one of the locals who will show you their farming techniques.”
“Aren’t I here to show them farming?” he asked, confirming his earlier conversations with the others.
“I’m sure you will learn from them as they learn from you,” Burton replied confidently. He showed them where to store the supplies, some of the assistants quickly opening the boxes to see what they had received and then putting them away. Maddie found herself helping. She couldn’t speak the language, neither could Leida, but they were having fun pantomiming with the assistants who smiled effusively as they showed the two of them where things went.
It was late when the two women were shown where they would be bunking. It was a large military style tent with a wood floor, six cots, and thick beams holding up the canvas. “You are here,” one of the locals said in broken English, indicating two of the unused cots. There was a third, but it had a backpack on it. The others were obviously in use since the mattresses on them were made with sheets and blankets.
Maddie thanked the woman who had shown them to their tent and looked around. “Wow,” she said as she realized how sparse it was.
“You weren’t expecting a five-star hotel, were you?” Leida teased.
Maddie laughed and shook her head. “Nope, I expected to rough it.”
“Bugger that for a game of soldiers.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Rather you than me,” she interpreted for her, laughing at the difference in English. It was the same language, but with so many different phrases.
“Is that an Australian colloquialism?” Maddie asked in laughter.
“British actually, but it certainly is rather colorful isn’t it?”
“Oh, it’s very colorful here, don’t you think?” Maddie said wonderingly, looking forward to her work and more of the wonders she had already seen.
“Just look out for things that crawl and slither,” another voice said from the tent flap doorway. The two nurses turned. A redhead stood there in khaki shorts and combat boots, her socks going halfway up her legs. Her shirt was ripped at the sleeves and sweat stains formed a V down the front and sides. “Hi. I’m Lenora, Lenny for short,” she said as she came into the tent. “I’m one of the school teachers,” she explained.
“I’m Maddie, and that is Leida,” she said with smile as she shook Lenny’s outstretched hand.
“Oh, you’re American,” she said with a returned smile. “I’m Canadian,” she explained her own accent.
“I’m an Aussie,” Leida shook the Canadian’s hand as well. Her accent gave her away.
“Wow, we have all corners of the globe taken care of,” Lenny joked. “I’m here to escort you two to the chow tent.”
“I didn’t know I was hungry until just this moment,” Leida complained good-naturedly.
“Ah, the food isn’t much, but there is plenty of it.”
“I would love a shower at some point,” Maddie sighed as she pulled the sticky shirt away from her sweating body.
“Now that is an interesting topic.” Lenny explained that they got each other, or one of the locals who hung about, to pour water in a pan that filtered down and gave them a shower. It wasn’t much, but they could get clean.
“How often do you shower?” Maddie asked. She’d known it was going to be rough before she joined up. It was a combined effort coming to these camps where the Peace Corps, the Red Cross, and UNICEF, as well as other charities and organizations like Doctors Without Borders or Medecins Sans Frontieres (MSF) helped out. This area of Africa had, up until a few years previously, been a battle zone. Now it was considered relatively safe.
“A couple of times a week. Don’t worry, you’ll get one,” she assured the new nurse. She smiled. She’d already heard that they had dug in and started working immediately and that impressed people more than their cleanliness. They’d adjust. She showed them to the tent that housed their meals. Long tables consisting of plywood or planks made up the tables. The food was hot…it wasn’t tasty, but it was filling. The fruit mixed in with some of it was different than either of the women had tasted before, but at least their empty stomachs were filled. They both saw Harlan momentarily as he talked earnestly to someone on some subject and they met others they would be working with.
“No one has seen Doctor Cooper yet?” one of the other women asked Doctor Burton when he came by to greet them. She worked in the clinic keeping the beds clean. She wasn’t a nurse or a medical person, but she was a hearty volunteer or relief worker and enjoyed what help she could give these people. She was from Switzerland, or so she said.
“Nope, I haven’t seen him although we did get a bonus today. Some mechanic drove in,” he indicated with his head the blonde/brunette they had seen on their drive in to Mamadu. She was talking animatedly with a couple of the locals, in French. She wasn’t completely clean, but she looked even younger than they had thought earlier.
“Were you expecting a mechanic?” the Swiss woman, Magda, asked.
“Nope, but she’s welcome,” he assured her.
Magda immediately became suspicious as she looked at the woman across the tent who was obviously enjoying herself as she talked rapidly. Her hands were gesturing. The grease was gone, but still lined her fingernails. “You don’t think it odd that a mechanic, which we desperately need, shows up? Esp
ecially a female one?”
Looking thoughtful, Burton glanced at the woman he had so readily let into their inner circle. When Lakesh had introduced her as a mechanic, he had just accepted it at face value. It didn’t occur to him to question her too much. Magda had a point. He walked across the tent to Alex and murmured to him. The two of them got up and went over to ask the mechanic more about herself. The conversations began to quiet as others caught on to some sort of drama about to happen and wanted to hear.
“Excuse me,” Burton interrupted the woman’s conversation. His French was clear and precise.
“Yes?” she asked, flashing a smile of interest.
“You said you were a mechanic?” he asked, not sure how else to start this conversation.
She laughed, a hearty one at that, as though he had just told a joke that they were all sharing in. She shook her head to the negative. “I never said that, he did,” she answered, pointing at Lakesh. Lakesh, understanding French, began to look alarmed. She wound down from her laugh and smiled again. “I am a mechanic of sorts,” she said as she got up from the bench. Holding out her hand she said, “Allow me to introduce myself, I’m Deanna Cooper…Doctor Deanna Cooper,” she stressed.
“From Doctors Without Borders?” he asked dumbly in return.
She chuckled as she nodded, almost hesitantly. “Yes, were you expecting another doctor?”
He smiled at the silly question. “No, but I was expecting a man.”
She nodded again. “Yes, people are frequently expecting the D to stand for Dan and not Deanna.” She was trying to let him off the hook easily, not to make a scene, but she was well aware that the tent had quieted as he confronted her.
“But you’re so young!” he burst out, already feeling consternation at the grave mistake he had already made.
She nodded again, the look in her eye still one of amusement. “I know,” she agreed. She said nothing further as she waited. She could hear several others around her shifting in their seats as they waited for him to make some sort of a decision.
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