Читать книгу Good Medicine - Bobby Hutchinson - Страница 9

IT WAS THE FOLLOWING WEEK when the notice on St. Joe’s computer bulletin board caught Jordan’s eye.

Resident GP wanted for isolated First Nations village, Vancouver Island’s west coast. Ahousaht, Clayoquot Sound, Flores Island. Applicants must be willing to work with Tribal Community Services. Access by boat or floatplane only.

There was a Web address and a phone number, and Jordan scribbled them down. She wasn’t sure why. She knew nothing about native villages, and not much about First Nations people. The ones she was most familiar with were the ones who ended up in the E.R., most of them unfortunate residents of Vancouver’s troubled Lower East Side.

She was on the early shift, and when she was finished work she had an appointment with Helen, who once again asked the question that was becoming a mantra between them.

“What is it you really want, Jordan?”

“I want to move away.” The words came of their own volition, surprising her. “I’ve always lived in Vancouver. I grew up here, went to university here, trained at St. Joe’s. This is the only hospital I’ve ever worked at. I think I’d like to leave the city, go somewhere where no one knows me, maybe give general practice a shot. Make a fresh start.”

Somewhere Garry isn’t. She didn’t say the words aloud. She didn’t have to. Helen understood.

“Maybe that’s what you need to do, then. Just keep in mind that you take all your emotional baggage with you, along with your underwear, no matter where you travel,” Helen reminded her. “Wherever you go, there you are,” she quoted with her teasing smile. “Any idea where you want to go?”

Jordan shook her head. “I’ll have to find a job before I make any changes. There’s the legal bills to think about.” It was too soon to speculate.

But later that afternoon, she explored the Web for Ahousaht. Photos showed a wild and windswept village surrounded by the Pacific Ocean. She learned that until now medical care had been provided by the nurse at the local clinic and a doctor who flew in twice a week. Emergency cases were transported by medevac to the hospital in Tofino on nearby Vancouver Island. But the community’s requirements had changed, and now the Tribal Council needed a full-time doctor. The salary wasn’t what Jordan earned in the E.R., but neither would there be shift work. And housing was included.

Impulsively, Jordan took out her cell phone and dialed the number she’d copied down.

The number rang and rang, and she was about to hang up when a man answered.

“Hello?” There was a note of impatience in the man’s deep and resonant tone.

“Oh, um, yes, hello.” Damn, now she was losing her confidence. Her hands were sweating and she could hear the strain in her voice. “My, um, my name is Jordan Burke, Doctor Burke, and I’m calling about the medical position. Is it still available, or have you found someone?”

There was a moment’s silence. “I don’t know for sure. Call back another time. The office is closed for the day.” His tone was brusque, bordering on rude.

“Well, can you just tell me—”

“Nope, I can’t. You need to speak to Bennie, he’s the rep from Tribal Council.”

“Bennie? Bennie who? Does he have a last name?” Jordan was over feeling nervous and well on the way to being annoyed. Surely he could be more helpful?

“Just Bennie will do fine. He’ll be here in the morning.”

“And you are—?” This person should never be answering a business phone. She’d say so, in the nicest possible way, when she talked to this Bennie, Jordan decided.

“Silas Keefer. And I’m hanging up now, Jordan Burke. There’s a celebration I need to attend.”

“Oh. Sure. But first can you just tell me—”

The line clicked and a dial tone sounded. The bloody man had hung up on her.

Jordan pushed End and shoved the phone into her bag with more force than was necessary. Whoever, whatever Silas Keefer was, he’d succeeded in discouraging her from applying for the position.

SILAS HAD FORGOTTEN about the call by the time he took his place in the welcoming circle. When his turn came to hold the fragile baby, he cradled him against his heart. The tiny boy seemed too small to bear the weight of his sturdy name.

Hello, Cameron Michael John. Welcome, Nuu-chah-nulth warrior.

Cameron was barely a week old. Silas gazed down into the little face. The baby’s skin was golden and downy, and he looked up at Silas through big dark eyes. One minute fist, curled into itself like a seashell, flailed and then came to rest on the front of Silas’s flannel shirt, and his man’s heart swelled in his chest. He never got used to the miracle of new life. He hoped he never would.

You, young Cameron, have plenty of time to grow into your name—and you’ll be growing up right alongside your parents.

Alice Pettigrew, Cameron’s mother, was barely sixteen, hardly more than a child herself. And his father, Hogan John, had two full years to go before his twentieth birthday.

Children, raising children. At least here in Ahousaht, Cameron and his parents were surrounded by family, mothers and aunts and fathers and grandfathers. Most of them were here today and Silas knew all of them were willing to help in any way they could.

The shy young parents sat side by side holding hands as the members of the welcoming circle cradled the newborn to their hearts and hummed the traditional ahhhh nook, ahhhhh nook deep in their chests. Conveying love and welcome and support. Then they sang the welcoming songs, the dancers up and moving to the beat of the drums. Silas said a prayer, and as soon as the blessing was complete, got to his feet and headed toward the door.

His half sister, Christina Crow, caught him just before he escaped.

She gave him her wicked wide grin. “Hey, Silas, you’re coming to Mom’s birthday party tomorrow night, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there.” They both knew he wouldn’t stay, but he’d put in an appearance. He was, after all, Rose Marie’s firstborn. After her divorce from Silas’s father, Angus Keefer, Rose Marie had married Peter Crow and five years later she’d had Christina. Twelve years after that, Patwin, her third child, was born, but Christina was the half sibling Silas really knew well. Patwin hadn’t been home much since Silas had moved back to Ahousaht. And Silas was profoundly solitary.

But who could help loving Christina? She’d been born smiling. Tiny and slender, his half sister had thick black hair permed into a curly, electric frizz. Her dramatic, high cheekbones, deep-set eyes and glorious copper skin drew the hungry glances of men. But it was her sunny nature that captivated people as much as her beauty. She had a streak of mischief that made her fun to be around, and her smart mouth brought shocked smiles to even the most dour of the elders.

Over the six years he’d lived in Ahousaht, Christina had somehow wormed her way through all the protective barriers Silas had erected.

And just like all the women in the family, she was nosy as hell.

“So what’d you get Mom for her birthday?”

“That marble pastry board and lazy Susan she’s been eyeing in the new kitchenware store in Tofino.”

“Super.” Christina beamed up at him, dark eyes sparkling. “That’s gonna get you brownie points, big brother. Dad and I each got her another one of those copper-bottomed pots she’s nuts about.” She shook her head and her curls lifted and settled. “Mom’s the only woman I know who actually wants kitchen stuff for her birthday. I’d flatten anyone who gave me pots instead of perfume.”

“How’s it going with Andy?” She’d been dating Andy Makinna for a couple of months now.

“It’s over.” Christina shrugged and wrinkled her nose. “Him and Eli didn’t get along.”

“That kid’s got a good shit detector.” Silas hadn’t been particularly fond of her latest admirer, either. Good for his nephew for putting the run on the guy.

“Yeah, well, Eli’s gonna end up supporting me in my old age unless he takes a shine to one of these guys pretty soon.”

“He’s only eight. He’s got lots of time to dig up a stepfather before that.”

Christina rolled her eyes. “I’d just as soon have a man who’s breathing.”

“I’ll pass that on to Eli, but a woman with a personality problem like you have can’t be too fussy.”

She grinned and thumped him on the shoulder. “Take your own advice, older brother.”

“I’ll give it my best shot.” Silas gave her a quick hug and eased past her, toward freedom.

Christina grabbed a handful of his shirt and held on. “Why not stay for coffee?”

“Can’t. I’ve got a deadline on an article, and I’m trying to improve the Ahousaht Web site.”

She knew it was an excuse, but she didn’t challenge him. “Okay. See you tomorrow morning at the meeting, then. No applicants yet for the medical posting, I’m beginning to wonder if we’ll ever find a doctor who wants to come and live here.” Christina was nursing supervisor for the medical center. She was the one who’d convinced the Council about the advantages of having a resident M.D.

“You know, somebody did call about that posting.” He’d forgotten all about it till now. Silas was one of the band’s healers, but he was the first to admit the need for both healing modalities. “Just before the ceremony, I dropped by the band office to get some stuff Bennie left for me, and the phone rang. It was a woman. She asked if the position was still open. I told her I didn’t know.”

“Did you get her name and number?”

“Her name was Jordan, Jordan Brick or Bruk or something.” Silas shook his head. “I was late for the welcoming ceremony. But I did tell her to call back and talk to Bennie before I hung up on her.”

Christina gave him a look. “Probably the only person who’ll ever even think of applying, and you pissed her off right up front, eh?”

Silas shrugged. “You know me, I’m not exactly Mr. Congeniality.”

“Mr. Porcupine is more like it.” Christina shook her head and rolled her eyes. “You need a crash course in human relations, big brother.”

He smiled down at her, not in the least offended. “I’m way too old to change my wicked ways.”

“Thirty-six going on ninety-seven?”

“If that woman really wants the job, she’ll call back. And she’ll have to really want it or she’ll never stick it out through the first few weeks of culture shock. She’ll find out—” he ticked them off on his fingers “—there’s no sushi bar, no movie theater, no health club and it’s a forty-five minute trip by water taxi to the nearest pizza joint, which for some strange reason won’t deliver. And then there’s the rain. Mustn’t forget we have an annual rainfall of a hundred and ninety-six inches. So if I was a little abrupt on the phone, it’s a good thing—a test. We’ll see how determined she is to live on an island populated by wild Indians.”

Christina blew a raspberry. “The elders hear you call us that and they’ll revive scalping. You make it sound so bad anybody would turn tail and run. If by some fluke she phones back and even comes for a look-see, maybe you oughta lay low while I convince her there actually are advantages to living in Ahousaht.”

“If she comes, I’ll stay out of the way. Promise.”

Christina shot him a mischievous look. “Come to think about it, that’s not the best idea, either, big brother. If she’s single, the sight of you might entice her to remain in spite of the rain and the lack of a mall. You’re not half-bad to look at, although your manners leave a lot to be desired.”

Laughing, Silas made his escape when someone else came by to talk to Christina. He took the path that would lead him out of the village, along the forested path to where he’d built his compact cabin.

The rain that had been falling all day had stopped. The rising wind, chill and brisk, blew the clouds away, and overhead the late-afternoon sunset streaked the sky crimson and gold. Boats rocked at anchor in the bay, and kids in T-shirts raced up and down the gravel road on their bikes, impervious to the chill air. He was thinking about what he’d said, about there being no pizza joint in Ahousaht.

Personally, he’d settle for a faster and more reliable connection to the Internet.