Undiscovered Country by Jennifer Gold

Author:Jennifer Gold
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Second Story Press
Published: 2017-03-27T17:19:36+00:00

Chapter 14

After

“You fix clothing?” Anna makes the hand motions of a needle and thread as a group of guys rushes past carrying a comrade howling in pain. He has a large gash to his upper arm that’s quickly soaking the dirty towel wrapped around it with blood.

“Sewing, you mean?” I ask, confused. Then I realize what she’s really asking.

“Oh—no,” I say hastily, stepping backwards. “No, no. I can’t sew a person. No.”

Anna shrugs and gestures for me to follow. “Get the alcohol,” she says simply.

I grab the alcohol, along with some cotton strips I’d just finished sterilizing. Praying Anna is a decent seamstress, I rush to the back of the tent where she is instructing the boys to lay the patient out on our makeshift gurney.

“What’s his name?” I ask, forgetting to use my Spanish.

“Pedro.” For the first time, I notice Rafael is among the group. Our eyes meet. “He was cut.”

“Apparently.” My eyes linger on the gaping wound as Anna yanks off the filthy towels, muttering to herself. She instructs me to clean the area. Gently, I dab at Pedro’s arm with some damp cloths before swabbing the area with alcohol. I watch as Anna prepares a needle and thread, dipping the needle in the alcohol before turning to grimly face the patient.

“This is going to hurt,” she warns him in Spanish.

Pedro says nothing, but he closes his eyes. I take his other hand and, thinking of old movies, grab a wooden ruler and place it in his mouth.

“Um, mordisco si necesario,” I say lamely. My Spanish is improving, but it’s still pretty rudimentary. Pedro’s eyes fly open and he stares at me, uncomprehending, until Rafael mutters something to him. He nods, relaxes, and bites down on the stick as I thought I had suggested.

“Did I just tell him his sister married a cocker spaniel or something?” I ask, as Anna begins to stitch up the wound. I feel Pedro stiffen, so I squeeze his hand tightly. He squeezes back, trembling.

“No.” Rafael tries not to laugh, given the gravity of the situation, but his eyes twinkle. “It was almost understandable. It’s the grammar that presents issues.”

“Si,” I say.

“You must show patience,” he says, not for the first time. “You are still a new student.”

I have been studying Spanish with Rafael for about two weeks now—since that night by the river.

“You will learn from your work, too,” he tells me. “Try to use your Spanish more.”

I should, but I’ve been spoiled in the Infirmary. Anna speaks enough English that I’m able to be lazy about practicing. And she wants to improve her English, so when I do try to use my limited Spanish, more often than not she answers me in English anyway.

The village is grateful for our day-to-day help, but what I’ve learned is that they’re mostly grateful for our trailer full of Western medications and first-aid supplies. Before we came, Anna told me, all they had was alcohol, distilled and produced right here at the camp, and a couple of bottles of expired Aspirin.

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