The Marine's Return. Rula Sinara
If it hadn’t been for the monkey screeching, while scampering past the tent with a stolen piece of fruit and knocking over a metal pail in the process, they would have suspected a human intruder. They would have heard the noise he’d made when he bumped into the metal cabinet in the tent.
If someone found him, everything would be over. His family, especially his mother and sister, would suffer.
The evening grew dark, blessing Leboo with shadows. The voices he’d heard moments before, faded into the night.
He peered carefully around the tree. The pregnant woman gathered the bowl and what fruit was left in it, then disappeared into their home. No one else was around. This was his chance.
He secured the bandages and supplies he’d stolen in his pocket, then escaped as quietly and swiftly as he could. He was getting good at this...gifted at stealth. But a nagging feeling warned him that next time he might not be so lucky. The price for not returning with the supplies was too high to pay, yet the reward...priceless. He needed to stay focused. He needed to be prepared to defend himself at all costs.
He’d come better armed next time...
* * *
LEXI SHIELDED HER face from the sun and eyed the solitary wisp of cloud that had been lingering overhead.
“I don’t think we have anything to worry about. The last rainy season practically skipped us altogether. I’m honestly more worried about what the drought is doing to the region than the clinic flooding or roads getting washed out when the rains come,” she said.
She’d read about Kenya’s climate and the rainy seasons back when she was making her big move. Everyone had warned her, when she’d first arrived, about the “short rains” of November and December, yet, it had not rained nearly as much as they’d described. She wasn’t so sure the “long rains” of April would be that much more dramatic.
“You never know.” Jacey cocked her head. “I get that climate change has done a number on everyone, but I’m a firm believer that predictable weather doesn’t exist.”
“Sure, it does. I predict that a minute from now it’ll still be hot and sunny,” Lexi said.
“Wow, pregnancy must be enhancing your intuitive abilities. It must go hand in hand with that mother’s intuition thing.” Jacey smirked at her and shook her head as she packaged up some surgical equipment for Hope to take to Nairobi to sterilize.
They had a small, autoclave for sterilizing equipment, but it had broken down a month ago. Even when it had been working, it had depended on the generator. Lexi really wished they could get one of the solar-powered autoclaves she’d read about. She wanted to talk to Dr. Hope about installing solar panels on the roof, too.
Though none of that would matter if they shut down the clinic. She’d sacrifice newer equipment to keep the clinic open. She’d boil things if she had to. Back to basics. The impact of having routine care and vaccines available to locals was so worth it. People needed this clinic.
Fingers crossed, Ben would be able to spare one of his new recruits or teammates to provide security. This clinic was important to Hope, too, so maybe he’d make the extra effort for his wife. Lexi was probably worrying for nothing.
“A little rain would be a blessing, but at least we know that no torrential storms will keep Mac from bringing Hope around today. Other than vaccinations, we can’t see any more clinic patients until these supplies are sterilized. Where’d Taj go?”
“He’s gathering his things so he can head out with Mac.” Jacey took off her sterile gloves and disposed of them, then turned and crossed her arms. “Look, Lexi. I know we have a rule about no one staying out here alone, even without poacher threats, but I can hold down the fort until Mac brings back our equipment and more supplies. In the meantime, you should go with Taj and Mac to Nairobi. Get some proper rest. Make arrangements for when the baby comes. Go shopping.”
“Absolutely not. I told you I have everything under control. I’ll get what’s needed when I go in for my exam. It’s called efficiency. And I’ve already made arrangements. Hope said I can stay at her home to recover after the baby comes, if I want. I don’t plan to abuse that invitation. I’ll stay there a few weeks to a month, max. Then I’m coming right back here. We’ve organized a nurse from Hope’s office to cover my clinic duties every other day. And Taj will still be around, too.”
“But what about the baby?”
“What do you mean?”
“Lexi, do you have any idea how hard that would be for you? What about your child and our very basic living conditions? It’s too risky.”
“I’ve thought this through. Big houses in fancy neighborhoods aren’t the only way people raise families. We keep a clean place here. Our clinic bungalow is like a small house or apartment. All this nature? Think of it as a big backyard. Jane Goodall had her toddler son at her research camp years ago. Half of Dr. Hope’s friends and family have done it. Even in America there are people who live in cabins in the woods, which are teeming with wolves and bears. And I might add that big cities and suburbs aren’t without their dangers—drive-by or school shootings, for one thing.
“I’m going to build my life here doing what I was born to do. And if everyone Hope and Mac know has raised their kids out here, I can do it, too. I’d have a room and a roof over my head. I don’t need any more than that. And my baby will have me. Don’t worry.”
“What about logistical things like dirty diapers?”
“When I first came here, Mac told me all about how he met Dr. Bekker at her elephant rescue. He said she used to take bucket showers and boil her daughter’s and her friend’s son’s diapers then hang them on old-fashioned clotheslines. I’m sure I’ll manage and get tips from everyone who has been through it. At least we don’t have to take bucket showers and our well hasn’t dried out. And, for the record, I don’t expect anyone to diaper wash or babysit. I’ll do it.”
“That’s not what I meant. I’d be happy to help out.” Jacey crinkled her nose. “Maybe. I’m just worried for you both.”
“Don’t be. I know what I’m doing. That mother’s intuition thing. Right?”
“I guess.” Jacey sighed.
“Any special requests other than ice cream?” Taj asked, coming out of the clinic.
“A new autoclave?” Jacey quipped.
“I wish. That’s in Dr. Hope’s hands,” Taj said.
“Someone to secure the area so we stay open?” Lexi added.
“That’s also in her hands. Or Ben’s. Trust me, what Mac said is bothering me, too, and not just because I work here. Listen, we have two hours before they get here. I want to take the jeep down to the enkang that’s just south of here by that dried riverbed and deliver—”
“Hang on. We have a patient.” Lexi motioned toward a Masai man who was hurrying down the path carrying a woman in his arms.
“Oh, no.”
She didn’t have to say more. Taj and Jacey were already running over to help carry the woman to the exam tent. Dark bloodstains were evident on her traditional wrap dress, despite the cloth’s vibrant colors. Lexi moved as fast as she could and was at her side just as they lay her on the exam cot. She was pregnant. Lexi swallowed hard. Stay focused. This isn’t you. The young woman was bleeding out. Her eyes were barely open and her face looked pale.
“What happened? Nini kimetokea?” Lexi asked, hoping he spoke either English or Swahili because she couldn’t recall how to ask it in Maa.
“She was grinding corn. Only that.” The man stood back, his eyes intense. He draped his red-and-orange shuka back over his shoulder. His opposite shoulder and upper arm bore the