Cilka's Journey(58)

“Tell me what to do,” she asks Lyuba.

“Cilka, this is Jakub. We need to change the bandages on your arms, don’t we, Jakub? We don’t want you to get an infection.”

“Hello, Jakub, that’s a Polish name, isn’t it?”

Jakub nods, despite the pain moving obviously causes him.

“Lyuba, is it all right if I speak to Jakub in Polish?”

She nods. “Perhaps you can change the bandage on his other arm while you two are remembering old times.”

“I’m from Czechoslovakia, your next-door neighbor, but I am … familiar with Poland. I was about to ask you what you’re doing here, but let’s leave that conversation for another time.”

Cilka gently unwinds the bandage covering Jakub’s left arm, chatting like a long-lost friend. With the bandage removed, she sees the damage. Lyuba hands her a new bandage soaked in a solution that makes it feel slimy.

Cilka asks Lyuba, “How is his arm burned worse than his hand? It doesn’t make sense.”

“Jakub’s clothes caught fire and the burns he received through his clothing are more severe because they kept burning for longer—until the clothes could be removed.”

“I see. Well, Jakub, can I give you some advice? Go to work naked in future.”

Cilka realizes her comment is in extremely bad taste and starts to apologize. But she feels Jakub squeeze her hand and looks down at him; he is trying to smile, to laugh, he has appreciated her joke.

Lyuba regards them both. “You have to excuse her, Jakub. Cilka has been away from us delivering babies. She’s used to her patients being naked. In fact, if it wasn’t so cold, I’m sure she would walk around here naked.”

“Lyuba!” Cilka exclaims indignantly.

Lyuba laughs heartily. “I’ve finished with your dressing, Jakub, so I’ll leave you two. Call if you want anything, Cilka.”

“You’ve been a great help, Lyuba. I think Jakub and I can manage from here, can’t we, Jakub?”

Cilka quickly finishes rebandaging Jakub’s other arm, telling him she will be back to check on him in a little while. She joins Raisa and falls quickly back into the rhythm of caring for the patients Raisa allocates her. This feels natural, she thinks. And she knows what the complete opposite is like—when a role you are forced into feels unnatural, like your very soul has been contorted.

During a break, Raisa, Lyuba and Cilka sip on hot, weak tea, eat bread and something pretending to be sausage. Yelena joins them, waving away the offer of tea. It’s well known the doctors have the premium tea in their lounge area.

“How’s our girl doing?” she asks Raisa and Lyuba.

“It’s like she never left! Thanks for talking her into coming back to us,” Raisa says.

“She didn’t talk me into anything,” Cilka says. “It is good to be back and helping out, even if I have to hear you telling patients I should be walking around naked.”

“Who said that about you?”

“It was just a joke,” Cilka quickly says. “We were distracting a patient with nasty burns while we changed his bandages.”

“So long as it’s effective.” Yelena smiles.

“Is there anything more I can do to help?” Cilka asks.

“Actually, Cilka, I was wondering if you would like to assist me in surgery tomorrow. It’s the one area you haven’t worked in. I’m doing some relatively straightforward procedures and thought it could be an extension of your training.”

“That’s a great idea,” Lyuba says. “I think she’s ready for it. What do you say, Cilka?”

“I don’t know what to say. Thank you. What do I have to do?”

“Just come to work tomorrow as usual. I’ll meet you and we’ll take it from there.”

Cilka watches Yelena walk away. She is in awe of her ability as a brilliant doctor and of her willingness to share her knowledge, particularly with someone who has had no formal training.

“It’s amazing that she volunteered to be here,” she says to the others.

“Yes, most of the doctors have been sent here, usually because they have screwed up at whatever hospital they came from or got on the wrong side of someone in their hometown. Or, like us, it’s their first assignment out of medical school. Yelena Georgiyevna genuinely wants to work where she can do the most good,” Raisa says.

“I’ve felt rude to ask, but does she have a family with her?”

“No, she lives with the other female doctors in their quarters, though I did hear a rumor about her being friendly with one of the other doctors. They’ve been seen together in the town at night,” Lyuba whispers.

The town of Vorkuta, outside the camp, has been built entirely by prisoners.

“Really…” Love again, Cilka thinks, even in a place like this. “Do we know who? Which doctor?”

“The doctor in the maternity ward is all I know.”

“Petre—she and Petre Davitovich?”

“You know him?” Raisa says.

“Of course she does,” Lyuba adds. “That’s where she was working. Did you see them together?”

“No. Well, only the once, when she took me to meet him on my first day, but that explains why he was prepared to take me on when I got fired from here. That’s wonderful,” Cilka marvels, “because he is just like her, a really good doctor and a kind man.”