Chapter 32 #2
Moeen filmed as Zabu pointed out various sections of the field hospital, each tent designated for specific purposes, such as major injuries and resuscitation, triage, and maternity.
There were smaller adjoining tents where medics slept.
“We’re entirely self-sufficient so we come with equipment and medicines,” said Zabu.
Mattie knew a lot of what Zabu was saying, but it was important to get the basics across to viewers. Organisations like Zabu’s depended upon donations to keep going, and media exposure to help their cause was invaluable.
Zabu took them to the teenager she’d been treating when Mattie had arrived.
The oxygen mask covered his pained, drawn face.
“Bilal suffers with asthma. Since the earthquake, the air has become heavy with dust and toxic fumes. He says his family were burning plastic to stay warm.” She squeezed his hand.
“People here are incredibly vulnerable now, even those who weren’t physically injured in the earthquake.
They still need everyday outpatient health care.
Having babies and needing antenatal care doesn’t just stop. That’s where we step in.”
Mattie ensured she had Bilal’s permission to film him, and then took the opportunity to chat with Zabu and the charity’s ground co-ordinator over coffee.
It was bitter, and she wished she’d added sugar.
Just as she got up to fetch some, the ground rumbled.
“Another aftershock! That’s three just this morning.
” She gasped as the table trembled and coffee sloshed out of their mugs.
It was like being in a small boat in very choppy seas.
“This is a much stronger tremor.” Zabu shot out of her chair at the cacophony of shouts and medical alarms suddenly beeping from the adjacent treatment tents.
Mattie followed, along with Moeen, who filmed as they ran.
She watched from a discreet distance as Zabu and other doctors and nurses zoned in on the alarms, checking their patients.
It was hardly surprising that patients’ heart rates were off the scales.
Hers was. And then her chest tightened painfully.
Oh no. No. Not again. She flared her nostrils. “I can smell burning.”
Moeen’s head snapped left and right. “There.” He tore off between the tents before declaring where “there” was.
She followed him half-heartedly. The journalist in her needed to know what was happening, but the air she was sucking in wasn’t reaching her lungs.
She staggered to open ground beyond the tents and saw flames leaping from a middle-floor window of the abandoned hospital building.
Mattie stood rooted to the uneven ground.
Nowhere felt safe. She became aware of someone next to her, clasping her wrist. Zabu.
“It’s an electrical fire triggered by the aftershock. Everything’s under control.” Zabu tilted her head. “Fire spooks you, yes? Because of Kenya?”
“A little,” Mattie whispered, her voice hoarse.
“A lot, I would say.” Zabu tapped Mattie’s arm. “You’re tachycardic.”
Mattie sucked in deep breaths, her gaze fixed on a flapping canvas door to one of the tents.
“Mattie?” Moeen’s concerned voice broke through her distress. “What’s up?”
Mattie pulled her hand out of Zabu’s clasp. “All good. The aftershock freaked me a bit, that’s all.”
Someone shouted at Zabu in French. Mattie understood the gist of it; a pregnant woman had gone into premature labour. “I have to go. We need to catch up later, oui?”
Mattie nodded.
Later meant much later that night, when she’d finished a piece on the pregnant woman giving birth, had filmed her round-up bulletin, and when Zabu was finally off-shift.
Mattie stood next to her in the darkness, the field hospital behind them and solar-powered lanterns picking out the cracked road.
She surveyed the night sky. The stars providing pinpricks of light ought to be reassuring.
They had been on other deployments, a link to home when she was away pursuing her dream career.
Why not now? She shivered, hands deep in her coat pockets.
“I don’t think I’ve been truly warm since I arrived here. ”
“There was ice on the inside of our tent this morning.” Zabu cricked her neck to the side and winced as she attempted to stretch the muscle. She yawned. “A shot or three of vodka would go down well right about now.”
Mattie nodded. “I’d join you.” They checked a waist-high stone wall was stable before resting their elbows against it. “When you look at the stars, you can forget the hell of this place for a moment or two, but there’s no hiding the stench of death, is there?” asked Mattie.
“The ripple effect of the quake will hurt generations and generations. Trauma does that,” Zabu’s expression was grim as she looked pointedly at Mattie, “however hard we try to ignore it.”
Mattie shook her head. “I’m fine.”
Zabu rolled her eyes and laughed. “Typical Mattie. Nothing is wrong here. I’m fine, I’m fine,” she mimicked.
Mattie rubbed her fingertip over the chipped stone. “I have hypertrophic scars on my upper back.” Stating bold facts to Zabu was easy because there was no need for a medical explanation.
“What about the scars that are invisible on the outside?”
Mattie stared into the darkness. Was she unable or unwilling to find the words to answer Zabu’s question?
Zabu’s face turned serious. “When I’ve finished this deployment, I will return home and see a psychologist. It’s not easy to recover from things I’ve seen. The trauma, the tragedy... It’s overwhelming.”
Every time someone mentioned counselling or therapy, the word No screamed in Mattie’s head, and mentally, she curled into the foetal position. “I’ll be fine with the vodka option.”
“You could try both. Of course, there’s something else that can give us immediate relief.” Zabu winked and leaned in for a kiss.
Mattie pulled back and shook her head.
“No?” Zabu raised her eyebrow. “So, that answers my unspoken question. You have changed. I’m thinking that you’ve met someone?” She smiled. “Yes, you have. And they are important to you. Important enough to say no to me.” Zabu nudged her shoulder playfully. “Who is she?”
“Nell. We met last summer. Somehow, she got under my skin.”
Zabu looked amused. “It happens.”
“Not to me. Not before. Not like this.” Just a few hours earlier, a grieving man had shown Mattie photos of how his street had looked before the earthquake. Her first thought? Nell would’ve loved the architecture of the mosque.
“Does your Nell know this?”
Mattie glared at the darkness. “I suspect she’s very pissed off with me right now.”
“I suspect you need to talk to her.” Zabu tapped her arm. “You are blaming yourself. I am a doctor. I don’t blame. I try to heal.
“You think I need healing?”
“Yes, my dear friend,” Zabu said softly, “I do.”
Zabu’s words weighed heavily on Mattie’s mind as she shifted in the single bed.
She and Moeen had decided to stay at their hotel, but sleep continued to elude her.
The wall didn’t have any answers either, despite her staring at it for hours on end.
Rain splattered against the window. Out of nowhere, she remembered the words of a Polish poet: Raindrops are the tears of a broken soul.
She pressed her lips shut. Zabu thought she needed healing.
So did Nell, Shona, and Lisa. Why didn’t they understand that if she allowed this thread in her mind to be pulled, everything would unravel?
How loud was she crying? Not wanting Moeen to hear through the hotel’s thin walls, she dragged the pillow over her face to muffle the noise.
Hell, she was a mess. Eventually, she got herself sufficiently under control to lay back against the pillow instead of half-suffocating herself with it.
What now? Sleep wasn’t happening. Music?
Maybe not. Music had so many associations that it would most likely set her off again.
An audiobook? She woke up her phone and stared at the photo on the screensaver.
Mum, Dad, Simon and her, all grinning at the camera.
A snapshot in time, one that would never be repeated.
She ran her finger over the screen, wishing she could reach in and hold them all again.
What would Mum have had to say about all of this? The only woman who’d ever loved her unconditionally, had seen her at her very worst, and still came back for more. Caring had been her love language.
“You’d love Nell, Mum,” she whispered into the darkness. “I love Nell. But I hate me.” The truth burned her throat. She didn’t know who she was anymore. “I’m lost, Mum. And I’m too scared to find myself again.”