Cross on the Drum by Cave Hugh

Author:Cave, Hugh [Cave, Hugh B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General Fiction
Publisher: Crossroad Press
Published: 2011-09-05T16:00:00+00:00

ON HIS RETURN TO THE MISSION Barry found Alma Lemke waiting with a patient. The man's name was Julio Everaste. He was a fisherman. He had been carried from the plantation end of the island on a stretcher of poles and woven palm fronds by some of his neighbors.

"My cook told me about him," Alma said. "I found him lying on a mat in his caille, waiting to die. Can you do anything for him?"

Everaste lay now on the cot in the office. His left foot was a great bloated balloon and he was obviously in pain.

Barry made an examination, then called for hot water and laid out some instruments. Removing his shirt, he said, "Are you sure you want to watch this?"

"You may need help, don't you think?"

"It won't be very pretty."

"It isn't pretty now."

He had no operating table; there wasn't room in the office for one. He would have to do this on his knees, he saw. Having washed the awful-looking foot and put a folded towel under it, he leaned forward to peer into the fellow's face.

"This is going to hurt for a minute, compère."

"Oui."

"After it's over, you'll be all right."

"Merci, mon Père."

With his left arm around the leg to hold it, he cut into the side of the foot where the infection seemed to be centered. Everaste made a gasping sound and arched his back convulsively. But the blade had not pierced the skin. The skin was like leather.

Barry tightened the pressure of his arm and cut again in the same place. It was like going through the hard rind of a watermelon into the pulp. There was a great spurt of fluid from the incision. He felt a sticky wetness on his face and saw that the front of his undershirt was yellow. The stench was horrible. Behind him Alma gasped.

The man on the cot was writhing.

Barry dropped the foot and groped to his feet, sickened by the stench, aware that his eyes were smarting. It was a frightful moment. He must wash at once or run the risk of some ghastly infection, but the patient was tossing about in agony, banging his bad foot against the frame of the cot, and the fluid spurting from the wound was getting all over everything.

"Alma!" he said frantically. "Can you hold him?"

"Of course." She stepped past him and went to her knees, pressing her hands down on Everaste's shoulders. "Julio!" she said sharply. "Stop it!"

Barry groped for a basin of water.

He was still scrubbing himself when Alma said from her position beside the cot, "It seems to have stopped spurting now. Is there something I should do?" She seemed completely calm.

"No, I can attend to it. I'm all right now."

She rose to make room for him and, after watching for a moment, opened the door and went out. He didn't blame her. He was on the verge of being ill himself. It was all he could do to hold down the contents of his stomach while he cleaned the open foot and put a dressing on it.

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