Captured by Moonlight. Christine Lindsay
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The girl’s gaze tracked from Eshana to Laine’s while the purdah cart wound through the streets to the other side of Amritsar. Her eyelids drooped and closed by the time the cart stopped outside the narrow, four-story mission close to the Jallianwalla Bagh.
Mala and Tikah thrust the front doors open and carried out a cot. Within minutes they transported the patient into the surgery where they were met with the clean smell of carbolic soap. As Eshana and Laine washed their hands, Mala hooked the girl up to a saline drip while Tikah bathed her with a warm soapy cloth allowing them to see her pallid skin beneath its applied layer of ash. Laine pinned her nursing veil to her hair.
Eshana tightened the blood pressure cuff on the patient’s arm. “Her pressure is dangerously low.”
The girl fluttered her eyes open to see the sterile clinic and instruments. With a pleading look she tried to speak. Laine brushed the girl’s hair from her forehead. “We only want to help you and your baby. Just tell me your name.”
“Chandrabha,” the girl choked out.
“All right then, I’m going to call you Chandra for short, and now I’m going to examine you. Don’t be afraid.”
~*~
Half an hour later, as the last of the afternoon sun faded, so too did Eshana’s hope. Drenched in sweat and the girl’s blood, she watched Laine step away from the examining table.
“No use, Eshana. The pelvis is too small. We have to get a doctor.”
Eshana sank her head into her hand. “There is only Dr. Kaur. He is very kind, but I do not wish to involve him.”
“If we don’t involve him she’ll die. If she does die, then we’ll need him to record her death properly.” Laine’s matter-of-fact tone matched the steadiness in her gaze. “And you and I could go to jail.”
Eshana gave a firm jut of her chin. “What of it? If Miriam still lived, she would do all she could for the life of this girl. I will go.”
Tikah glanced up from bathing the girl’s brow. “It will be well, my sister. Go, and bring the doctor. Mala and I will assist the nursing-sahiba.”
Chandra gave a weak moan. The saline had rehydrated her body so that she had gained only enough strength to communicate her pain. There was no time to lose. Eshana rushed from the room and quickly changed into a clean garment. Whipping the end of her cotton sari over her head, she raced out of the mission. Lord Yeshu, keep the temple woman from remembering my face. Do not let them come here to hurt the people of this house.
Dr. Jai Kaur’s office lay two streets away, and Eshana’s thin-soled chappals pounded the cobblestones. She bumped into several people and pushed her way through the crowded bazaar. Her chest burned as she tried to catch her breath and opened the door to his clinic.
Patients sat cross-legged or hunched down against the walls waiting, but Jai Kaur shot her a glance as she stumbled into the room.
He left the patient he had been examining behind a curtain, strode toward Eshana, and towered over her. “What is it?”
“A girl in labor. She is dying.” Eshana’s hand crept to her throat to settle her breathing.
Jai turned away to wash his hands and spoke to someone behind another curtain. “Father, I will leave you to see the rest of the patients. I must attend an emergency birthing.”
Hooks screeched along the metal rod as Jai’s father, Dr. Kaur Senior, pushed aside the curtain. Beneath his red turban, the man’s heavy-lidded gaze swept Eshana then rested on Jai. “Your responsibilities, my son, are with our own patients.” He modulated his voice low for the sake of the people filling the room.
Jai met the older man’s gaze. Like his father, in the custom of the Sikhs he had combed his un-cut black beard and rolled it beneath his chin. He had meticulously tied his royal blue turban around his head, adding several more inches to his imposing height. “Father, I have already ascertained that no one in this room is requiring emergency care. I will return as soon as this other life is out of danger. Is that not why you had me follow in your footsteps? To give aid to those who are suffering, no matter what their faith?”
The senior Dr. Kaur slashed a hand in the air. “Go then. But hurry back. It is most likely this woman is trying to save the life of another of those temple girls, who are no more than harlots. Disgusting, this Devadasi, a Hindu practice that is a terrible blight on India.”
Eshana understood his Sikh revulsion for this particular Hindu custom, but felt that his distaste included her too. Jai did not waste another moment. He picked up his medical valise and strode from the clinic. She had to run to catch up with his long strides as he struck out for the mission.
Unlike her, Jai breathed normally in spite of his pace. “Is this patient a temple girl?”
“The suffering of this human being is no different than any other.”
He stopped suddenly so that she had to turn back to face him. People filed past them in the bee-hive of a bazaar. “So it is true. I can see it in your eyes. You were never meant for subterfuge, Eshana.” He picked up his pace again. “I have no qualms about helping anyone who needs my services. But you must take a care for yourself. I am worrying about you and the other women of your mission. It has been a year and a half since your founder, Miriam, died, with still no administrator to fill her place.”
She pushed her chin out in a way her beloved Miriam would have recognized. “I have written to the mission headquarters. I see no reason why they should not consider me as administrator to carry on Miriam’s work.”
Jai must have seen something in the unbending set of her neck. He softened his tone. “The mission headquarters would do wisely to place you in that role. But do you not still desire to become a physician?”
Memories of sitting with Miriam at the top of the four-story house pulled at the strings of her heart. Many times they had sat mending clothing in the evenings while the houseful of orphans and patients slept. Many nights they had discussed Eshana’s desire to become a doctor, and prayed for that. But Miriam had died. Eshana shook off the memories. “I cannot be leaving the mission to study medicine. Besides, the women of our house have learned much from Laine Harkness. And if we need a doctor you have been gracious to come to our aid.”
His eyes as black as agates grew somber. “I cannot always come, Eshana. Someone in your mission needs to gain proper medical training.”
“As I have said, I must keep the mission running.” She turned her back to him, straight as a ruler, as her mother so long ago had taught her, and renewed her steps.
His swift paces caught up to her. “What will you do, Eshana, if the Hindu priests and certain high-caste people learn of what you are doing, that this is not the first untouchable female you have taken away, but the second? Your charitable work could come under scrutiny.”
She let her gaze drop from his piercing one. Jai was right, of course. Miriam’s mission could come under scrutiny. Did she have the right to place the mission—the children—in such danger? Or worse than scrutiny, what if one night a Hindu fanatic who believed her actions