could she? “And I’ll fit into this how?”
“Any way you want to. I operate on the same system as my orders are submitted. PRN. It works, as long as I don’t get distracted. And that’s when everything falls apart.”
“What distracts you?” Layla was curious, as Arlo had never seemed the type to get distracted when they’d been together.
“A lot of things. Too much need, too little of me to go around. Medicines I can’t get when I need them. The hole in the roof over my cot. Actually, now that you’ve displaced me that’s one less distraction I’ll have to deal with.”
“Did you always feel that way about me, Arlo? That I distracted you?”
He gave her a questioning look. “How do you mean?”
“That I was a distraction you didn’t want to have?”
“You were always a distraction, Layla. But I wanted that distraction. Wanted that time we had together. It meant—everything.”
To her, it had. But she wasn’t sure about Arlo. One thing was certain, though. He’d been her distraction. And he’d displaced her feelings in a way no one would ever do again. Before him, she’d been sure what she wanted. But after him there had been times when she hadn’t been so sure.
“Well, however it worked out, I’m glad you have everything you wanted,” she said, walking out into the short corridor leading to the single room holding ten beds. All empty now. And everything bare bones. Meager. Medicine on a level she’d never seen. “Do you think Ollie might have provided you with more, had he known how bare your hospital is?”
“He knows, Layla. He’s been here. But he’s so heavily invested in his surgical practice—putting me through med school was enough. It was a very generous thing to do, especially considering that if he hadn’t done it, I might still be struggling to earn enough money to get through. Besides, my parents were able to manage under difficult circumstances and so am I.”
“I hope so. For your sake, as well as your patients’.”
“You think I don’t do what’s best for my patients? You’re here all of an hour and you’re already making judgments?”
“Not at all. I’m beginning to realize how difficult it must be to exist here.” She was almost gaining a deeper insight into him now, seeing him differently than she had in those years they had been together. And this side of Arlo wasadmirable. He was someone to be respected. And it was so frightening, knowing he was out here, practically on his own, trying to make a difference she still didn’t understand. “Since I’ve come a long way to work with you, I have the right to wonder. And worry, if that’s the way it turns out. If that bothers you, sorry. But there’s nothing I can do about it. At least, not until I understand more.”
As Layla passed by Arlo on her way to the tiny kitchen at the rear of the ward, she paused when they were almost chest to chest and looked up at him. “I never worked directly with you when we were residents because of our personal situation. Fraternization wasn’t allowed. But now it’s different. And what we had, or what we meant to each other, can’t get in the way. OK? The past is the past. So, keep in mind, Arlo, that this can’t turn into something that’s only about us. Taking offense too quickly at things not intended to be offensive, overreacting—we can’t do that. We can’t wipe the slate clean either. But we’ve got to find a way to make this work for a while. If that’s what you want for your hospital. If it’s not”
She shrugged, then ducked into the tiny kitchen to assess the two-burner stove, the small utility table, and the knee-high refrigerator that looked to be a decade past its prime. It was working off a small generator that ran only the kitchen. Well, for now she’d have to get used to it. For better or worse, she had to make a go of this. And of Arlo.
For the first time, Layla really wondered why she had raised her hand so quickly. But it was too late to worry over that, especially when she had so many other things to fret about now. Snakes, something called Chauncy, rain, difficult conditions, Arlo It was almost too much. Still, she was here, trying to convince herself she could do this. She had to. Arlo might suffer a little if she backed out, but his patients were the ones who really counted. Because of them, Layla would fight her way through and hope she was good enough. No matter what Arlo or anybody else thought, she was about being a doctor. A good doctor. As good a doctor as Arlo.
“What happened to your back?” Layla asked, as they both went to greet a patient who’d wandered in the door. A little boy with a scratch on his arm. He couldn’t have been more than five or six, and Layla escorted the child to the exam room and pointed to the table, indicating for the child to hop up.
“I strained it a little,” Arlo said, surprised and even flattered that she was paying that much attention. But Layla had always been observant. Sometimes too observant, especially when she’d picked up on one of his moods—moods he’d tried hard never to show. Yet she’d always known, just like now. “I fell off a roof. Actually, the roof caved in a little under my weight. That accounts for the hole over your cot.” He said something to the child, who giggled with delight then made hand gestures to indicate someone falling. “Which is tarped, by the way. So the leak is only a drip.”
“Should I ask what you were doing on a roof?” Layla found the antiseptic and scrubbed the child’s wound, then dressed it with a bandage.
“Not unless you want to hear all about Chauncy.”
“Ah, yes, my mysterious bed partner. So, why were you up on the roof with this Chauncy?”
“He got stuck. I had to help him down.” Arlo dug into his cargo pockets and pulled out a sweet for the child, said something to him again, then sent the boy on his way, holding onto his sweet like it was the best prize in the world.
“Do children often come here alone?” Layla asked.
“The children here mature at an early age. Chanchai, the little boy who was just here, scratched his arm bringing in fishing nets.”
“But he’s only—”
“I know. By your standards you see a very young child. But by the standards here, he’s a contributing member of the village and he has an important job. The twenty or thirty bahts here might only be a dollar or less in your currency, but that money goes to help support his family, making Chanchai’s contribution very important.”
“He’s veryresilient.”
“All the people here are. They work hard for their families, and even the young ones know to come to me if they’re hurt, or not feeling well. Of course, it’s easy to persuade them when they know you carry sweets in your pockets.” He smiled. “Which isn’t so different from anywhere, is it? I remember you during your pediatric rotation always stocking up candy for the children, even though your attending physician frowned on it.”
“Because my doctor did that when I was a child. It made the whole medical experience less frightening.”
Arlo chuckled. “Remember that one little boy who’d follow you up and down the hall in his wheelchair, never saying a word but always giving you that sad look when you gave a sweet to another child?”
“Geordie. I haven’t thought of him in years. He did manage
