Simi, numb and burning at the same time, sits down. She slips her aching feet out of her sandals, and leans back against the soft red cushions. Next to her she hears Marybelle telling one of the doctors about the splinter, and how it happened. The doctor is young with beautifully braided hair, and a vivid tiger on her t-shirt. Simi is too exhausted to listen properly, but she does learn that the doctor’s name is Miriam. She tries to follow the conversation between Dr Miriam and Marybelle, but all she can do is drift in and out, her head resting on the back of the sofa. Then suddenly a new voice jolts her awake. Familiar and unsettling, it cuts through her dosing. She opens her eyes, and tries to sit up.

Aneke.

“Hi. We’re looking for the doctors?”

“Well, you’ve found us,” the young doctor replies, her smile wide and generous.

“You’re a doctor?”

“Yes.”

There is a lingering pause. “You are the doctors?” Aneke asks, eyes sweeping around the group.

“Yes. Us three,” says Dr Miriam, pointing to herself, and the two men opposite her. “On the end there, he’s our pilot.”

“Really? Is this all of you? I mean, where’s your boss?”

Simi winces. The pilot leans forward. “Our boss?”

“Ja, the guy in charge,” confirms Ruan, standing slightly behind Aneke.

“In charge? Well, I’m the pilot, Douglas Makanda. If you wanted a ‘boss’ … maybe Dr Jabu Ndlovu here should be your man. It’s his private clinic that’s paying for the helicopter.” He grins at the large man sitting next to him.

“No. Not him,” says Aneke impatiently. “I mean your boss boss. We need to tell him that we need a lift back to Harare on the next flight.”

“Really?” says Douglas Makanda, as Dr Jabu Ndlovu gets to his feet.

“Who might I be speaking to?” the doctor asks, looking down at Aneke.

She waves the passports at him. “Mr and Mrs van Wek. From Australia.”

“And why do you need to be uplifted with such urgency?”

“I’d rather tell your boss. Your manager,” Aneke replies.

“Really? Well that’s going to be difficult. We don’t have a manager. We left our office manager, Miss Maria Marimo, in Harare. She can order stationery for you, or find you the next appointment if that’s what you need? But if you have any other kind of problem you need to tell us.” Dr Jabu Ndlovu speaks slowly, his eyes rock solid. He is a tall, broad man in his late fifties. His voice is deep.

“No manager? ” Aneke persists.

“No. We have no boss. We’re colleagues. We organised this mission together.” Simi, exhaustion put to one side, hears Dr Jabu Ndlovu’s measured patience thinning.

Ruan also hears this, and tries to manage the mood. “What’s happened is that our passports are damaged,” he says quickly. “They got soaked in the rain and we need to get back to Harare to get new ones. We’re only half-way through our holiday, and we want to sort this out so we still have time to get to Vic Falls.”

(Thanks to Pixabay for the image)

Copyright Georgie Knaggs & The Phraser 2023