Nothing but the dead and dying in my little town.

My Little Town by Paul Simon

 

There ain’t nothing but the dead and dying in my little town.

The words came back at him like a river in flood, washing over him and threatening to drown him. Paul dragged his fingers through his thinning hair before scrubbing a hand across his face. The bristle on his chin reminded him that it had been days since he had really stopped to take care of anything more than the most urgent needs.

It had been so many years and yet that day stuck firm in his memory, like some kind of albatross around his neck. He’d been so very young and so full of his own self-importance. His newly printed medical degree declared to the world that he was a healer. A man who could work miracles. Except there was no miracle cure for the fever that had run amok through that long-forgotten town. He’d arrived on the stage, completely unaware of the horror that awaited until they’d almost run into the quarantine blockade. It was pure chance that had brought another doctor to the tiny town that barely graced the map and he was too late. The draw of a frontier life had suddenly been slapped back into reality when he saw the makeshift hospital. A few tents had been hastily erected in an attempt to keep the dying separated from the living. The stench of death was something that he would never forget.

“Doctor? Are you okay?”

Paul glanced up to see a petite woman standing before him. He knew her name, but for the moment it totally escaped him. His eyes were bleary from lack of sleep, but his nose caught the scent of coffee in the enamel mug she thrust towards him.

“I’m fine.”

A momentary chuckle escaped his lips as he looked across at the closest bunk. It was the exact same thing the young man had been saying for days as he helped tend to the sick. Of course, they were all functioning on determination and grit more than anything else. They’d been forced into helping hold the quarantine, having been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Paul was eternally grateful for the trio who had helped him as their patients outnumbered them four to one.

“How’s Joe?”

The young woman looked as exhausted as he felt and he smiled as he took the coffee from her hand.

“I finally convinced him he needed to sleep. He’s just sleeping. He was dead on his feet. ” As the words left his mouth, Paul felt fear clutch at him. It was just a turn of phrase and yet in the current moment, it was the wrong one to choose. “He’ll be fine!”

Lissa turned and headed back toward the small stove where she had set more water to boil. A hand reached out towards her from one of the bunks and weakly grasped at her skirt.

“Water … ” The word was barely whispered.

“It’s coming,” she smiled. “You’ll be fine.”