Nirvana Effect

4



Doctor Callista Knowles treated her last patient of the day. He was a small native boy whose father had offered a chicken in exchange for medical care.

She had declined the payment. Callista was a doctor, not a farmer, and in the three years she had practiced in the port city of Lisbaad, natives paying anything at all had been few and far between. She made her way with a grant from St. Mary’s and the occasional paying foreigner who found his way into her clinic from the docks.

The two islanders had knocked on her door after hours. Callista had locked up more than half an hour earlier, but she could tell that the man must have trekked from an outlying area.

The boy was in no shape to walk; his father must have carried him most of the way. The man’s legs trembled. His body had sagged with relief when Callista opened the door.

She put her hand on the boy’s head. She had stopped using thermometers after the first month in Lisbaad, unless it was a paying patient who would expect it. The back of her palm did just as well. The boy was running a fever, but not too bad. His father looked at her expectantly. She smiled to reassure him.

She checked the boy’s eyes, mouth, and ears. The boy coughed. She checked his lungs with her stethoscope. She made breathing motions to him and got him to mimic her. She didn’t like what she heard.

“His lungs are sick,” she told the father in Tamil. “He is hot, he has a fever.” She went to her medicine closet and pulled out the last of her antibiotics. There would be another shipment in a couple days. Until then the island would have to cope. She’d be sure to point out the deficiency to the next inspector from St. Mary’s. “You are a farmer?” she asked the father.

The man nodded.

“You are not to let him work for two weeks. Every day you are to give him one of these, until they are all gone. Do not save them. They will go bad. Do exactly as I say.”

The man nodded.

“What did I say?” she asked.

“No work, these every day,” said the father. Tamil was obviously not his first or even second language. On this island, everyone spoke a bit of everything, though. He pointed at the medicine bottle full of pills from the clinic’s dispensary.

She nodded. “Very good.”

“No work?” asked the little boy in much better Tamil than her father. “And candy every day? Yippee!” He rocked back and forth on the exam table with all the enthusiasm he could muster. He coughed again.

“Not candy, medicine. Only one each day. It doesn’t taste good. And no running around and playing, either. Rest.”

The boy sagged his shoulders. She couldn’t suppress her smile. He would make it, and she needn’t worry.

She said to the father, “Come back in three months. Free. Duiyon will make you an appointment.”

Another person knocked at the door. “Excuse me,” she said. “Please follow me back to the reception area. Duiyon will be back from her errands in a few minutes.”

She checked the front door. It was James.

“Dr. Seacrest,” she shouted through the door. “We’re closed. If it’s treatment you seek you’ll have to come another time.”

“Just need to borrow some sugar, neighbor,” he shouted back. She opened the door let him inside. James was about fifteen years older than her, in his early forties. He was wiry yet handsome and walked with quiet aloofness. She knew the majority of his sex appeal was due to the fact that he obviously didn’t give a shit about anything. Not her sort of guy - but he certainly caught her eye, today. He’d just had a haircut, and something about the way he’d done it reminded her…Oh, stop it.

The two doctors had the distinction of being the only two whites of their profession on the island. “How can I help you?” she asked. “I’m out of sugar, as well as everything else in the dispensary. I have some water, but it will evaporate soon. And they just got my last antibiotic.” She filed charts, making sure he saw that she wasn’t wasting any time in getting out of there.

“Actually I just wanted to borrow some of your time. I have reason to celebrate, and wanted to take you out to dinner,” said Seacrest boldly.

“Well, I appreciate your offer, James, I really do…”

“Why don’t you take me up on it just once, Dr. Knowles? It’s my birthday.”

“It was your birthday seven months ago.”

“This is my real birthday. I’ve grown older,” he said.

“James, will you ever give up?” she asked.

“Hmmm…” he said. She walked down the hall to the exam rooms. She changed the paper towels running across the beds and sanitized. As she sprayed she thought about Seacrest. She got a feeling about him that made her want to keep her distance. A lot of had to do with the mystery as to how he ended up in Lisbaad. It was something he wouldn’t talk about.

Of course, it’s still a mystery to me how I ended up in Lisbaad…

She had to admit there was a feeling she got about every guy that made her want to keep her distance.

Dinner sounded nice, though. It was something she rarely was able to treat herself to. Seacrest, in his Corvette and infinitely deep pockets, was more than capable of delivering a fine dining experience.

When she walked back into the reception room, James was crouched near the natives, muttering with them. He stood up when she walked in.

“What are you up to?” she asked with cocked eyebrow.

“Apparently, Mr. Guin here had to carry his son eight miles to reach this clinic. It will be another eight miles before they get to sleep.” He paused.

“Mmhmm?” she prodded.

“I have made them an offer,” said Seacrest.

“And what is that?” asked Callista.

“I will drive them in my glorious candy apple red quad cab ‘95 Corvette with all leather interior all the way to their farm, if you will agree to accompany me and then let me take you out to dinner.”

He smiled gamely. He knew he had won. She sighed and looked at the little boy. She envisioned his eyes lighting up as he took what was most likely the first car ride of his life. Probably he wouldn’t even need the pills after that.

I do it for the children…he does look handsome today…and ten, fifteen years is not all that much difference on this island…it’s just a date…