Thief of Glory by Sigmund Brouwer

Author:Sigmund Brouwer [Brouwer, Sigmund]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-307-45924-4
Publisher: The Doubleday Religious Publishing Group
Published: 2014-08-18T16:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-SIX

The next morning, my arm had already started to swell at the puncture marks where the python had clamped onto my arm. After the wailing siren for tenko, I took a place in line at the crowded hospital tent. Two boys, Pietje’s age, were trying to console their mother, who was hunched over in agony and clutching her stomach, and an elderly woman kept trying to pull her blouse away from her body so that the fabric wouldn’t touch her skin. We all understood why, as the rash of dengue was obvious on her shoulders and upper arms. Her expression was stoic, however, as she bore the muscle aches of what we called breakbone fever. When all of her pain passed in the next week or two, she at least would be immune to further attacks. This couldn’t be said for the unlucky ones who shivered with malaria.

There was no question that I needed medical attention or that I needed to line up for Dr. Eikenboom. I waited an hour for my turn at her table. My arm was throbbing, and I rested it on the table so she could examine it. Blood seeped from the deepest gash of the broken bottle.

“Aside from these cuts, those marks are in a peculiar pattern,” Dr. Eikenboom said as she examined the series of dots in a U shape on the top and bottom of my arm. It didn’t take much imagination to see that it was an animal bite.

“I don’t want it known,” I said. “But Nakahara caught me at his wall again, and as punishment, he ordered his dog to bite me.”

Dr. Eikenboom let out a deep sigh. “You are not the first patient to lie to a doctor, Jeremiah. But that doesn’t make it acceptable either.”

She called for Dr. Kloet. He saw that it was me at her table and gave a slow shake of his head.

“Frederick!” she said in a raised voice. “Do not ignore me.”

Enough patients in line heard her that it made it embarrassing for Dr. Kloet to submit to her sharp tone. In my mind, he walked over as if he were wearing a skirt.

“Remember the girl you asked me to check earlier?” she asked him. “The dozens of marks on her skull that you treated with iodine?”

With Laura’s hair cut short, I’d also had a chance to look while combing aside her hair with my fingers as if looking for lice. Many of the small punctures showed the first signs of infection, so there had been no choice except to send her to Dr. Kloet.

“Of course,” he said. Irritated.

“That was a rhetorical question,” she told him. “I wanted you to compare those marks to this.”

She ran her fingers lightly over the bite marks, ignoring the deeper gash where I had slashed my arm with the broken bottle neck.

“Similar,” he said. “Satisfied?”

He did not look at me.

“Dr. Kloet,” I said, “just so you know, Georgie lied to you. It was my secret. Nobody at camp was talking about our marble games.

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