Before the Mango Ripens by Afabwaje Kurian

Before the Mango Ripens by Afabwaje Kurian

Author:Afabwaje Kurian
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Before the Mango Ripens
Publisher: Dzanc Books
Published: 2024-12-15T00:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

“Dr. Awyebwi!”

Tebeya slipped the prescription under a clipboard at the sound of Nelson’s voice echoing down the corridor. She had come to the dispensary and requested carbon copies of the prescriptions he had written today. She had found a mistake within seconds of searching. It was clearly his handwriting—the overconfident swoops of letters, the slanted dashes that replaced full stops above i’s and j’s. He had written warfarin, a blood thinner, for a tuberculosis patient instead of isoniazid. The prescribed dosage a dangerously excessive amount. She had corrected it before the patient was sent home with the wrong prescription.

“Yes, Dr. Landry?” she said, turning to face him.

“What in the world are you trying to prove, heh?”

He crossed his arms against his chest. Behind him, a woman and her two sons who were waiting for their medications watched them with curiosity.

“Let us go and speak privately,” she said.

“You’re cleaning up my mess. Is that it?” He glanced around the low-ceilinged dispensary. “That’s the message you’re trying to send, isn’t it?”

“I’m not understanding,” she said cautiously.

It sounded as if he knew about the prescription pad hidden under the clipboard, or the records she had taken, which were locked in the desk drawer in the office. Had he learned what she had been tracking for the past month since the incident in the operating room? They were coming to the end of April, and she believed she nearly had enough evidence to use against him.

“The little girl,” Nelson said. “She’s living with your family now.”

“Oh,” she said. “You mean Comfort.”

“Yeah, sure, Comfort.”

“What does this have to do with you, Dr. Landry? Comfort no longer has anybody to care for her—so, she’s under my care now.”

“A regular Wonder Woman, aren’t you? You’re trying to make a point.” He laughed and planted a hand on the counter. “You’re blaming me for what happened, aren’t you?”

“This is what our people do, Dr. Landry. What does this have to do with you?”

“Listen, we did the best we could in there,” he whispered, and it seemed he was trying to convince himself. “I tried to save that woman’s life. It wasn’t my fault, you know.”

“Dr. Landry.” She came closer to him, her voice as low as his, for she could see that the woman with the two boys was delighting in the encounter, already picturing how she would tell her friends about the white doctor and Dr. Tebeya. Eh! You should have seen them o! Fighting in front of everybody like ordinary people!

She said, “You made mistakes during that operation—”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You rushed the procedures—why?”

“Why? Why did I try to ensure my patient received the best care?”

“Something was not right that day.” She lowered her voice again. “Were you drinking before the operation?”

“Dr. Awyebwi,” he said in a tone he’d never taken with her before. “I’m the director of this clinic, and it would be in your best interest not to insinuate that I was not in my right mind.”

“I cannot question you? Is that what you’re saying?”

“You work for me, not the other way around.



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