Hand me that gauze.” He pointed with a thick finger, his light russet skin a sharp contrast against the white of his lab coat. The dam collapse, which had necessitated them moving into the temporary FEMA trailers, had tripled their workload. Kee had never expected any sort of terrorism to touch his little corner of Arizona. But he thought that the extra load might be too much for Hector, judging from the puffy circles beneath his eyes.
Kee handed over the gauze and Dr. Hauser stripped off the outer covering, then expertly wrapped the boy’s leg in a herringbone pattern that would prevent slipping.
“There, now,” he said to the boy. “All done.”
The boy still had tear tracks on his cheeks but he was quiet now that the Novocain was working and the blood had been mopped up. Hauser turned to the boy’s mother. “Give him some Tylenol when you get him home. Two 80 mg tablets, three times a day, for today only, and keep this dry. Bring him back in ten days and I’ll take out the stitches.”
The boy swung his legs off the table and glanced at Hauser.
“Go on. You can walk on it. But no running or swimming or scratching!” He held out his hand to shake. Teddy hesitated but took Hector’s hand. “Good work today, Teddy. You should be proud. You take care of your brother and look after your mom.”
Teddy nodded his acceptance of this duty and slid to the floor. It was what Kee’s dad had said to him before the sentencing. Ironic, since his father had never done so. He was a living example of what happened when you made your own rules.
The pair headed out of the curtained exam room. Hauser followed to the hall.
“Give me a minute, Lori,” he called.
Lori Redhorse waved in acknowledgment, taking charge of the boy and his mother, ushering them out.
Dr. Day popped his head out of the exam area beside Hauser’s.
“Mrs. Cruz says she wants to see you,” he said to Hauser.
“Well, of course she does. She’s been seeing me since she was born.” He muttered something, and Kee caught the word worthless. “In a minute.” Hauser glanced at Kee, motioning with his head. Kee followed. They paused halfway between Day’s examining area and the reception table, where Lori sat at the computer.
Hauser’s mouth turned down, making him look like one of the largemouth bass Kee loved to catch. Hauser shook his head. “That ambulance arrived. He—” Hauser jerked his head toward Dr. Day’s examining area “—didn’t even step out to check on it. He must have heard it. You sure did.”
Kee shrugged, having no explanation.
“I swear he needs more looking after than the babies in our NICU. What kind of doctors do they have at FEMA anyway?” He tugged at the black stethoscope looped around his thick neck.
“Give him a chance.”
“Nobody wants to see him. Besides, this is my clinic. Up until now that is. The tribal council has no right to meddle here.”
The dam collapse gave them every right, Kee thought, but said nothing.
Requests like Mrs. Cruz’s had been happening a lot lately but Kee could not figure why so many patients were being so difficult. The clinic was short-staffed and the tribe had managed to get FEMA to provide them with an extra hand. Richard Day seemed nice enough, but he sure was not a hit with patients.
“So...” said Hauser, changing the subject. “How was the interview?”
Kee was a finalist for a position at St. Martin’s Medical Center in Phoenix. It was internal medicine and he preferred emergency medicine and he also preferred to live here with his tribe instead of out there. But beggars could not be choosers. He’d been shocked at how fast the loans came due once he finished the last of his educational requirements. Now he stared up from a seemingly bottomless pit of debt. It would take years and years to get clear of them and return to the tribe. Reaching his dreams had come at a high cost. The ironic part was that his ambition was to help his tribe members the way Hauser had once helped him. Now, instead, he’d be miles away treating strangers.
“They’ve offered me a position,” said Kee.
“Not surprised. But I hope you’ll consider ours, as well.”
Kee’s brows lifted. He hadn’t known that was a possibility and had assumed there would be no place for him. With his residency completed, he needed a job.
“What about Dr. Day?”
“He’s temporary. Once we get back to the clinic at Piňon Flats, we’ll be able to handle the load with two doctors. Maybe add a physician’s assistant.”
They’d had this discussion before. When he got his residency in Darabee, just off the rez, Hauser had managed to keep Kee here part-time and count the hours toward his residency requirements.
“My mother is fostering the Doka girls,” said Kee.
“I heard that. She brought them in for a checkup. Malnourished and need some dental work, but nothing your mom can’t handle.”
“The point is, eventually I’ll need a place to live.” Sharing a FEMA trailer with Dr. Day worked for now, giving him easy access to the temporary clinic. But they expected to be back in their permanent facility this week.
“I see. The Doka girls have taken your bedroom, I imagine.”
Kee nodded. “Dr. Hauser, I need to start repayment on my loans. I can’t afford to work here part-time.” And I don’t know how much longer I can survive with only work, work and more work, with only a few hours of sleep in between.
He’d been living with his mom, but he’d had so little time to spend with her, he barely knew how the transition with the Doka girls was going. And he hadn’t seen his brothers Colt or Ty since a week ago Saturday when they’d driven off on Ty’s motorcycle after he and Jake had tried and failed to get Colt to seek help for his PTSD. Jake had told him that Colt had been seen and released. Kee worried about Colt living up in the woods at the family’s mining claim since he’d come home from Afghanistan. Jake said Colt took off every time he went up there. Only Ty had succeeded in reaching him.
“Listen, is this about your living situation or your loans?”
“Both.”
“Easy. My grant to hire you was approved.”
Kee fiddled with the head of his stethoscope. “I need a permanent posting.”
“Five years sound permanent enough?”
Kee didn’t keep the surprise from his voice. “Five?”
“Yes, includes housing. In the new housing in Piňon Flats. We’re building especially for the tribal employees. Doctors get priority. Should take about three months, so you can move in by Christmas. We’ll all be in the same area near the clinic. Three bedrooms, garage and screened deck. You get an auto allowance of $500 a month. Plus forgiveness of your loans for working in a rural facility if you stay the full five years.”
“And the salary?”
After Dr. Hauser’s response, Kee’s hands dropped to his sides. He blinked in shock.
“Plus a five percent cost of living raise each year,” Hauser added.
Kee had been embarrassed to accept the Big Money his brother Ty had offered. Big Money was the sum total of each tribe member’s royalties from the casino held in trust and released when each member reached their majority. Ty’s money amounted to eighteen thousand and had kept Kee’s head just above water, covering his living expenses during medical school in Phoenix. Without it, Kee could not have completed his education. With the salary Hauser had just offered, he could pay his brother back and fix his mother’s car.
Hauser was still talking. “So about the auto stipend—get rid of that wreck you drive.”