“Sometimes I feel as though I need to be autoclaved. It’s expected.”
“Sometimes you simply need a break. You’re making yourself sick and I’m worried,” he continued. “When was the last time you visited this friend of yours? Do you even still have other friends?” He pointed to the boxes Hope held.
He didn’t really know Chuki, and she wasn’t surprised that he couldn’t recall her name. The women that caught his eye were in related fields...and not from Chuki’s side of town. But he was right. It had been almost two months since she’d seen Chuki in person, and even that visit had been no more than thirty minutes. She shrugged. She couldn’t do this now.
“Exactly. You care about her, yet you hardly see her. Do you know why I’m successful at what I do?” her brother asked. “Because I love this.” He waved a hand at the lab. “This is my passion, Hope. I went after it because I wanted to. It satisfied me. Hard work? Yes, but there has to be balance.”
Hope straightened and took a deep breath.
“That’s enough, Simba. You can’t tell me what I want and don’t want to do.”
“No, but I can tell you that your health comes first. Your happiness comes first. Can you tell me that if you had one wish on earth, it would be to join Mama and Baba’s practice?” He sliced his hand through the air. “Do you even have a wish?”
The door to the lab swung open and Simba’s friend and colleague Dr. Jack Harper stepped in. Yes. A buffer.
“Hey, you two slackers. Stop sitting around and get to work,” Jack teased as he carried two racks of sample-filled vials to the far end of the lab near the centrifuge. He set them down and pulled a pipette out of a drawer. Simba gave her a “this isn’t over” look and went back to his work.
“Jack. I didn’t know you were going to be here today!” Hope said, perching her sandals on the bottom rung of the stool and swiveling it gently left and right. “How is everyone at Busara? How is little Pippa?”
“They’re great. And Pippa... That little monkey is growing fast.” His eyes sparkled like only a proud father’s could. “Anna and Niara told me to say hi to you and to tell you they’d be around for some supplies soon,” Jack said.
“Tell them I can’t wait.” She resisted the urge to ask when exactly “soon” would be. She really wanted to see them, but her brain tensed from the mere idea of how the logistics would work with her current schedule. Unless, maybe, if the strike ended.
Hope had met Jack and Anna a little over a year ago, when her brother was helping them sort out US citizenship and paternity paperwork for their daughter, Pippa, whom Anna had been raising in secret at Busara, her remote elephant research and rescue camp in the Serengeti. Anna had brought along her devoted friend Niara, and Hope had had a wonderful time taking Niara and her little boy shopping, while Anna and Jack had dealt with the embassy. At the time, Hope had almost been done with medical school. Jack, Anna and Pippa had come to dinner at their home a few times since then, after Jack had moved to Kenya and started collaborating with Simba, flying from Busara to Nairobi a few days a week. They’d all grown even closer as friends when Jack was crushed by the death of his sister in the States six months ago. He wasn’t the biggest talker, but whenever he mentioned something about his niece and nephews back home, it was clear to Hope that they meant a lot to him.
“Sandals?” Jack asked, raising one brow at Simba, as if surprised he hadn’t chased his sister out of the room yet.
“Not you, too. You’re more paranoid than my brother,” Hope said, hopping off the stool to get her bag. The room spun, and she took a step back, sending the stool rolling to her left. She dropped the sample boxes and grabbed the edge of the counter to regain her balance, but Simba was already holding her by the arm and Jack was over in seconds with a backed chair from the small adjoining office.
“Are you preg—” Jack asked, picking up the inhaler samples.
“No!” Hope and Simba said simultaneously, glaring at him in disbelief. Then Simba looked at Hope with scary-wide eyes.
“No!” she confirmed. Talk about an impossibility.
“Pretend I didn’t open my mouth,” Jack said with raised palms. He handed her the boxes.
“I just got up too quickly. I’ll be fine now.”
“That’s it,” Simba said. “You’re taking medical leave. Some time off.”
“Have you lost your mind? I can’t. Zamir needs me at the hospital. Half his staff are gone.”
“Zamir called me today, worried sick. I’m not the only one who’s noticed you withering away.”
Hope felt the rush of blood heat her face.
“He didn’t,” she said.
“He did. I know I’ll have his backing on this. He’ll sign whatever is needed. The internship will still be there, Hope. If that’s what you want. But you need to pause.”
Hope rubbed her hands down her face. No. This was impossible. People would ask questions and spread rumors that she’d failed somehow. She’d embarrass her parents. She’d disappoint them, and she couldn’t do that after all they’d sacrificed to save her life and to give her nothing but the best. Being where she was in her life wasn’t just hard work, it was a privilege. It was the grand plan. And taking off would be the equivalent of being ungrateful...or worse, incapable. At least that was what people would think.
Simba was right, though. Doctors really did make awful patients, because if she was honest with herself about how she’d been feeling lately, she’d be surprised if her adrenal glands hadn’t shriveled up.
God knew, she wanted to help people. She really did. But lately all she was feeling was frustrated and depleted. She didn’t dare admit to her family how many times the idea of escaping all their expectations and all her responsibilities had crossed her mind. Kicking back. Partying. Traveling places she’d seen in movies or read about in books. Freedom. How selfish was that? Witnessing poverty and disease everyday and then yearning for something different than the life she had? Some wishes were better left unspoken.
She closed her eyes and a tear escaped. She swiped it away.
“Um, can I get you something?” Jack asked, rubbing the back of his neck. Hope cleared her throat. She needed to get home. This was all too embarrassing.
“No, no. Thank you, Jack. Simba is making a big deal out of nothing.” She scowled at her brother. “And you’re embarrassing me here. Why don’t you walk me downstairs, Simba? You can buy your little sister a snack to eat in the car.”
He couldn’t say no to getting food in her system. She really didn’t want to argue in front of Jack, nor did she want to pass out before getting to the car. Jack slipped over to his vials and grabbed a pair of sterile gloves from a box, granting them a little privacy.
Simba paced in front of her like...well...like a lion.
“Hope, I know you’re worried about what people will think. What Mama and Baba will say. I wasn’t born yesterday. I’ll handle them. Don’t worry. No one will judge.”
Hope
