State of Wonder - Ann Patchett [127]
In the jungle they passed the stilted huts of several families who leaned against the railings and waved. An enormous fallen branch blocked the path for a moment but their scout dragged it away before they had the chance to wonder how they might crawl through. Marina began again. “Dr. Swenson, you have to listen to me. I am not the person for this job. There are other doctors here and any one of them, I promise you, is better qualified.”
“Shall we ask the botanist?” Dr. Swenson said sharply. “Or one of the other three? I doubt they have ever been out of a lab in their lives. You forget I have worked with these doctors for several years now. They have a real talent for breeding mosquitoes and that is all the credit I will give them. You may be a pharmacologist, Dr. Singh, but before that you were a student of mine. You know how to do this, and if you don’t I will be standing there reminding you. I cannot get down on the floor anymore. My leg won’t allow it. I will not go to the trouble of telling you that you can turn back now and leave this woman to her fate because it would be a waste of my time and yours. You will do this regardless of how you feel about it. That much I know about you now.”
Marina felt such a sudden weight in her feet that she looked down at them, sure she must have stepped in something.
“Cheer up, Dr. Singh. It’s your chance to do good in the world.”
Marina’s scalp was wet with sweat and it ran down the sides of her face and the back of her neck. She was going over notes in her mind and finding that entire pages of them were missing. Of course there was a chance that everything was fine, that they would arrive to find nothing but a long labor and a nervous husband. If it were only a matter of delivering the child because everyone else was indisposed, well, she could do that. Anyone could do that. She was only hoping there would be no cutting involved. Where was the bladder exactly? When she walked away from her last C-section it had never occurred to her that this was a skill she might someday be called to use again. Why should she have stayed current, attended the conferences, read the journals? She wasn’t even boarded in obstetrics. Any fireman or taxi driver could be called on for a vaginal delivery, but the unqualified were never asked to cut. Somehow this thought calmed her, and for a moment she allowed herself the pleasant picture of a baby slipping easily into her hands while her teacher watched. There was no reason to think this wasn’t the way it would go.
“You’re very quiet,” Dr. Swenson said. “I thought you would have so much to talk about while we walked. Everyone back at the lab this morning was anxious to discuss your feelings.”
“I’m trying to remember how to deliver a baby,” Marina said.
“The brain is a storage shed. You put experience in there and it waits for you. Don’t worry. You’ll find it in time.” With these nearly encouraging words they reached their destination. Had the Lakashi lived in a city, this particular hut would have been located in the outskirts of the farthest suburb. It was for the native who wanted privacy, who wanted a view of the river without a view of his neighbors. They knew it was the right house by the pitifully weak screaming that emanated from it. The man and the duffel bag bounded up the ladder ahead of them and was gone.
Dr. Swenson looked behind him, gauging the logistics. “When I think of finishing this project and going back to the States the thing I picture is a staircase. I suppose if I were more ambitious in my daydreams I would think of elevators and escalators, but I don’t. All I want is a nice set of stairs with a banister. You are my witness, Dr. Singh. If I make it out of this country alive I will never climb another ladder again.”
At seventy-three it was hardly a shocking oath to swear. Marina considered the length of Dr. Swenson’s arms and legs against the width of her circumference. It did not seem possible. “Is there any way for me to help?”
“Not unless you strap me to your back. I