Girls of Yellow (Elise De JongSami Ali Book 1) by Orest Stelmach

Author:Orest Stelmach [Stelmach, Orest]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General Fiction
Published: 2018-05-07T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 18

After the minibus disappeared, Elise circled back, climbed atop her bicycle and raced to Darby’s dental offices. She had to wait only five minutes before a dental assistant called her name and escorted her to a bay in the back. A few patients in the waiting area muttered their disapproval that she’d been called in so quickly.

Elise reclined in a dentist’s chair and was confused to see the assistant prepare a tray that contained drill bits and—to her dismay—a needle. The sound of intermittent cleaning and drilling from surrounding bays was interrupted by a patient’s yelp. Just what she needed to hear at that precise moment, Elise thought. She reached over and flipped a switch that dispensed water into the plastic cup beside her chair. Instead of rinsing, however, she drank the entire cup, unable to keep from glancing at the drill bits one more time when she was done.

Darby marched into the room with more enthusiasm than Elise remembered and greeted her with a smile that consisted of teeth that were way too perfect. They exchanged pleasantries, and then Darby lowered her chair, attached a light to his head, and began to poke around in her mouth.

“How is the pain?” he said in Arabic, with the assistant still in the room.

Elise made up a reasonable answer. “It comes and goes, worse at night when I’m not as distracted by my work.”

“Ah, yes. Sweet distraction.”

After a quick exam, Darby turned off the light shining in her eyes and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t you worry,” he said. “We’ll take care of you. When we’re done with your root canal and you leave here in an hour, there’ll be no more pain. That I promise.”

The dental assistant added a second needle to the tray and left the room.

“Root canal?” Elise said in English, once they were alone.

Darby’s lips parted in surprise. “You’re the one that said she wanted an extraction. I’m offering to save the tooth.”

Elise feared he’d gone mad. She’d asked for an extraction of her sister, not her tooth. But then he chuckled and shrugged.

“Forgive me,” he said. “Dental humor. We have the highest suicide rate of any profession. We need all the comic relief we can get.”

Elise still had her eyes on the needle. “Don’t let my appearance fool you then. I’m laughing really hard on the inside. Is this really necessary? Couldn’t we’ve just met for a consultation?”

“Afraid not. You came in complaining of pain. I made a diagnosis that calls for a root canal. That justified your return for a procedure today. I have to obsess over appearances, now more than ever. I think there might be a community infiltrator among my staff.”

“A what?”

“An infiltrator,” Darby said. “From the Caliph’s special branch. Whenever a dhimmi files taxes that show rising income, it’s a red flag. Not exactly what Eurabia is hoping for given the purpose of the dhimmi tax in the first place.”

“What’s the infiltrator’s goal?”

“Well, it’s not to improve productivity or form

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