sounds of hammers and saws, men’s voices speaking in a language I still could not master and the dull wash of waves on the shore a short distance away permeated the elevated hut. No, clinic. I had to keep correcting myself. We were making this place a clinic. I eyed the gaps in the wall between the reeds of bamboo. It rained a little every day, and then the temperatures soared north of thirty-five degrees Celsius, which I automatically convert to ninety-five degrees Fahrenheit in my head. Today was hot, and I could feel the prickle of heat, the slide of a drop of perspiration down my spine. I loved it. Give me a cold beer and a hot guy on a sandy beach, and I’m in heaven. I looked at the reflex handle that Arinya was holding out to me and smiled. Plenty of time for that later. Right now, we had a little champ waiting to see what the weird lady was going to do with this funny-looking hammer.
After testing his reflexes, then letting him hit me with that damn reflex hammer, and after measuring his height and weight, head circumference and general health overall, I finally nodded, giving the kid a thumbs-up signal. I pulled a lollipop out of the rear pocket of my denim shorts. Out of all the supplies I’d arranged to have shipped over, it was the candy that seemed to be the item in most demand. And soccer balls. Candy and soccer balls.
“You’re in good shape, young man,” I said. The kid was cute, shy and a little too skinny, with a grubby smile that could melt your heart. He needed good, regular meals, and regular baths wouldn’t hurt, but he was in a lot better shape than some of the other kids I’d seen. I glanced at his mother briefly. He may not be well fed, but it was clear he was well-loved. I wondered briefly what that would feel like, then shook off the self-indulgent thought as I turned to Arinya. “Invite his mother to the nutrition classes, but tell her I think her little man is doing fine.”
I listened absently as Arinya spoke quickly in Thai to the mother. In the few months I’d been in Thailand, I’d managed to pick up hello, goodbye and thank you—and not much else. Okay, maybe some scorching swear words. The Learn to Speak Thai app on my phone seemed like such a great idea, but only worked if I had reliable access to a phone network, which I didn’t, out here in a remote coastal village that was closer to Malaysia than it was to Bangkok. Still, the singsong sounds were relaxing as I packed up the items I’d used, and prepared the treatment room for our next patient—whenever they chose to appear.
It was still a challenge to get some of the locals to trust us enough to come for a checkup—but we were gradually breaking down their resistance. Some of the people here had never seen a doctor, which was something that I, as a nurse, found difficult to relate to. Although as far as I was concerned a good nurse was better than a doctor any day—but I’m biased. I smiled. The main building was almost finished, Arinya and two other nurses had nearly completed their training, and it wouldn’t be long before the clinic was operating in earnest. Another successful build. I straightened my shoulders. Yep. This program was going to save lives, and I was darn proud to be part of it. It felt so good to do good. I rubbed my neck, tilting my head back to stretch my muscles, and looked up at the ceiling. Well, maybe ceiling was a stretch.
Our temporary clinic was located in the barely used village school while the main building was constructed. The roof was thatched from what looked like banana leaves, palm fronds and some mud-like ingredient that could easily have been dried cow manure. I wasn’t going to look too closely.
“Hey, Lucy, that order of bamboo has arrived, and the builders want you to tell them where to start with it.”
It took a moment to realize someone was talking to me. I turned. Jake Danning, one of the backpackers helping with the construction, stood in the doorway. From his expression, he’d been waiting a little while for my response. Damn it, after all these months, I still forgot my name. Luckily, all supplies and equipment were addressed to Nurses Without Borders, so no one here knew my real name. I’d managed to laugh off most hesitations with some casual comment, but I knew I’d given a lot of these people an impression of being quite the ditz sometimes. Fortunately, I’d managed to prove myself with the program setup, training and implementation, so I wasn’t seen as a complete ditz.
My eyebrows rose as Jake’s comments registered. “You’re the site manager, why don’t you tell them?”
He folded his arms as he leaned against the door frame. I’m surprised it held his bulk. The blond American was considerably taller and more solid than his Thai contractors, and this hut looked like the next typhoon could wash it away.
“They want to talk to the nice lady,” he drawled, then chuckled.
I tried to frown, but my lips curved. Right. The builders wanted a break, and this was the most expedient way of getting one.
I gestured to the door and followed him and Arinya out to walk along the raised veranda. The sun was bright, the humidity thick, the sea breeze pretty much non-existent. As I trotted down the stairs to the ground below, one of the village kids cried out, and I waved back. These interruptions were becoming a habit, but I didn’t mind. Everyone seemed to work on a relaxed schedule, and I’d learned it was easier to work with it than against it. I may be here in my capacity as nurse and trainer, but I’d also discovered some unique negotiating skills to get builders and tradespeople to do what needed to be done—in due time.
“Some of the gang are organizing a Fourth of July party...” Jake commented casually, referring to the rest of the team of travelers involved in the health clinic program. “We weren’t sure if you’d be here, or back home in...?” His voice trailed off, and I didn’t miss his obvious attempt at getting more information out of me. At least Rich was more subtle, kept me on my toes. Jake was easy to handle.
“Oh, that sounds fantastic, what a great idea,” I exclaimed, neatly sidestepping the question. “You know I’m always up for a party—any excuse will do.” I turned my attention to greet Chatri, the local man in charge of the build. It took several minutes of gesturing and intent listening, deciphering, laughing and finally translating with the help of Arinya to communicate where the bamboo poles should go, and I brought Jake into the conversation as we turned to look at the newly formed building.
The concrete slab for the new health clinic had been poured, and most of the cinder blocks were already laid. I walked over to the newly delivered bamboo poles that would be used to partially frame up the roof, and spent the next half hour discussing the structure with the local men involved on the project, along with the university students, backpackers and medical professionals who were using their break to contribute to the remote Thai communities who very much needed this clinic.
Something slammed into my butt, and I whirled. Four kids giggled, and I could see more running up behind. A baby crawled in the sand behind them, and once again a startling memory of another little baby, crawling along the ground, slammed into me. Just as quickly, it was gone. It’s okay, don’t worry, the soothing voice in my head whispered.
One of the boys bit his finger, then pointed to the ground and I looked down. A sad little soccer ball in need of inflation lay at my feet, and I grinned.
“Oh, it’s on.” I kicked the ball back to them, then ran up, trying to sweep it out from between their feet. It wasn’t long before we were playing an impromptu game of soccer on the beach.
The rest of the day passed in a blur—much like every other day here.
* * *
I tilted my head back as the hot breeze teased my short hair, listening to Jake’s gentle guitar strumming. It was nine o’clock, the sun had long since set, but the heat and humidity were unrelenting. So unrelenting that Rich’s arm around my shoulders felt more like a hot clamp than a gesture of affection. The campfire was low, and I could see the stars twinkling in the night sky. Only the light from the fire illuminated our group, and there was an intimate feel to
