Man of Many Talents

Chapter 5

  The next morning Lana found it difficult to get into the swing of things, but by late afternoon she had almost completed her task. She was in a hurry to finish it. She would have to spend the next day working on her articles. Month-ends came along far too frequently, as she had come to realize now that she was working on a freelance basis. There were bond payments, water and lights accounts, car payments, internet and cell phone contracts to be paid. That did not even take into account what she spent on groceries and pocket money for the kids.

  However, this was the life she had chosen for herself and she was determined to make a success of it.

  An accident could happen so quickly, especially when one was in a hurry to finish a task. She wasn't sure if she had lost concentration, but by dusk the wire suddenly came undone from the roll and hit her on the forehead. Suddenly she could see stars in front of her eyes and grabbed her forehead. When she took her hand away, everything was full of blood.

  "Oh, gosh," she groaned and stumbled to the bakkie to look at herself in the side mirror. It did not look good. What now? Stitches and a doctor? Oh no! Where would she find a doctor at seven o'clock on a Tuesday evening?

  In the centre, next to the pharmacy? According to the sign boards there was a doctor, a dentist and a vet. Perhaps one of them would be able to help her. She grabbed her handbag and a towel to press against her forehead. She placed the cell phone on the seat next to her in case she passed out. Not that she could think of anybody she could phone in an emergency such as this. Perhaps there was somebody … somebody like Henk Maritz?

  She pushed the idea to the back of her mind, even though he had sounded so sincere when he offered to help whenever she needed him. She would get through this crisis alone, even if it were the last thing she did on this earth.

  Lana drove slowly and it felt as if she was going to pass out by the time she reached the centre. She parked in front of the pharmacy, got out of the bakkie and hammered at the door of the doctor's consulting rooms. The door opened and she stumbled in. If only somebody was able to help her. Fortunately, there was somebody. From beneath the towel she could see the figure of a man standing up from the chair behind a desk.

  "What the … heck?" he cried out in shock.

  "I … had a little accident … I think I need stitches. I am so glad you are still here. Can you please help me?" she asked from underneath the towel.

  "Yes, of course."

  She could feel his arms supporting her and she sat down on a chair. He carefully removed the towel while she sat there with her eyes closed. The man gasped and uttered a swear word before pressing the towel against the wound again.

  "I think you need a doctor," he stated in a rather familiar voice.

  "That is exactly what I thought, and that is why I came here," she groaned, holding on to the towel with both hands. Then she looked up. "Henk Maritz!"

  "Yes, it is me. Wait here." He disappeared into the adjacent room and slammed the door. She could hear him talking, probably over a phone, but she could not distinguish the words. On the desk she noticed a board: H L Maritz, General Practitioner. "My gosh, this man is everywhere! Was there any enterprise in the area where he did not have a finger or a banana in the pie?"

  HL Maritz stopped in the door, his cell phone against his ear. He walked up to her, slowly and cautiously.

  "Okay, let me see." His fingers seemed to stretch longer and longer as he carefully removed the towel from her face. "What happened to you? You could have lost your eye! No, Hendrik, I am not talking to you; I am talking to … the patient. She has got a nasty cut on her forehead."

  "The wire came loose from the roll … and then it hit me," Lana explained to Henk, and for the benefit of the other person he was busy talking to, Hendrik or WHO ever.

  "Gosh, I think you need a doctor," Henk declared.

  "Well, that is exactly why I am here, you moron," she grumbled. The man did not only have ten bananas instead of fingers, he also had ornaments instead of ears!

  "Even though I have no idea what to do, I am not a complete idiot and I will definitely not allow you to perish, if I can help it." At least he was not as deaf as he pretended to be. "Please come through to the consulting room."

  "I am sorry." She followed him to the other room sat and down where he indicated. "Sometimes I say things, without giving it a second thought."

  "Don't worry about it. I know you are in shock." Just as well that he was not offended enough to chase her away. He continued talking to the person over the cell phone. "Hendrik, how far are you from home?"

  The answer he received was obviously not what he wanted to hear, for he uttered another swear word.

  "What am I supposed to do in the meantime?" He started walking up and down in front of the shelves, with the cell phone stuck against his ear, while unpacking things. "Okay, I think I will be able to manage. Please hurry up, but drive carefully in my car."

  Henk switched off his phone, threw it on the table and walked to the basin. There he squirted soap on his hands and started scrubbing, as if he was going to perform a brain operation, Lana thought to herself. He dried his hands, inhaled a few deep breaths and walked up to her with a determined look in his eyes.

  "Okay, let me see. Ouch!" He stood back.

  "Are you going to faint? Don't even try! That would be my privilege. You are the doctor, and you have to fix my head."

  "If there was something wrong with your head, I would not have been able to fix it, sweetheart. But maybe I can do something about the cut on your head. Just sit still and remain calm."

  "Don't you need gloves?"

  "Yes, gloves." He turned towards the shelves. He grabbed his cell phone and phoned again. "Where are the bloody rubber gloves? Oh!" He opened a cupboard. "Okay, I found them."

  Lana shook her head in disbelief. She suddenly felt thankful that she wasn't in the privileged position to be the assistant or receptionist to this confused doctor. She decided that for any medical emergencies in the future she would rather drive the hundred kilometers to Nelspruit before she would submit herself to the incompetent doctor HL Maritz again.

  Henk pulled three pairs of gloves out of the box at once, and struggled to put one on.

  "They don't fit." He grumbled.

  "At this rate your patient will perish before you have even touched her," Lana sighed.

  "Do you want to perish? Don't die," he answered unsympathetically and drew a chair closer. He sat down. "Now I am going to do what I have to do."

  "Stitches?" she enquired apprehensively.

  "No, fortunately I have another trick up my sleeve. Hendrik just told me about it. Let's hope it will work."

  "Am I one of your experiments?"

  "In your dreams. No, sweetheart, with this wound you are my nightmare! Keep still, I have to clean the wound." He poured some fluid on to a piece of gauze and started wiping the wound. "Shout if it hurts."

  "It does not hurt and I am not a baby. Do the job thoroughly and stop looking so scared!"

  "Scared? That is a euphemism. I am petrified. Okay let us do the trick. Relax, apparently it has been proved." Henk cut off a piece of transparent plaster, and turning his head away as if he was scared to look at it, he pressed the sides of the wound together. Then he stuck the plaster on the wound. He stood back and admired his handiwork. "Not bad at all." He cut another two pieces and completed the task.

  "That's it. It came out beautifully. Did I hurt you at all?" he asked boastfully.

  "No, you did not. Is that it?"

  "I suppose so, but I need to give you a tetanus injection. Take these two tablets tonight, and here are another two for tomorrow morning." He started reading his notes on the notepad again. "Fifty milligrams of Brrr … whatever. Yes, this is the stuff."

  "Don't worry about the injection. I will take my chances on the wire. It was still new and not rusty at all." She stood up and picked up the blood-soaked towel. "What do I owe you?"

  "For what?" he asked with a surprised
look on his face."For this." She pointed at her forehead. “For the consultation, the procedure and the tablets."

  "Oh, for that? Nothing. I am not allowed to charge you anything for that."

  "How are you making a living, then?"

  "I do an honest day's work!" he exclaimed.

  "Dad!" They could hear a man's voice from the reception area. "I am here. Did you manage?"

  "Yes, I did." Henk answered proudly and stood back. "It was easy."

  "Is that so? Let me see if you did it properly." A young man walked in and stopped in front of Lana. He looked at the wound from all sides and patted Henk on the shoulder. "Not bad at all. Great stuff, Doc."

  "Thank you, I know. Where is my car?"

  "In front of the door. Thanks for the use of it."

  "You are welcome. Did you drive it properly?"

  "Yes, Dad. We did not take any chances, and we did not even use the four –wheel-drive function. We only drove fast for the last stretch after you phoned in such a panic. Did you enjoy driving my little Beamer?"

  "H'm, but it doesn't come close to my Touareg. In other words, you are not borrowing my car to go gallivanting in Maputo again." Henk answered. Then he pointed at Lana. "The patient still needs a tetanus injection."

  "So you did not complete the task! That is a very painful injection. You are leaving it up to me." By this time Lana had deducted that this was Henk's eldest son. "Oh no, Colleague, that is not the way to play the game."

  "Mrs. Lana Steenekamp has stated that she does not want to be injected," Henk answered formally, as if she was the object of discussion, but not able to participate in the discussion.

  "I don't believe you. Admit it. You were too scared to stick the needle into the patient. Pretend you are playing darts. Did you not listen to me when I told you how to do it?"

  "I did, but that part of your crash course was not very effective. I don't play darts at short distances with patients' upper arms."

  "Listen, if you don't tell me immediately what I owe you, I am leaving without paying you." Lana walked towards the door. "And forget about the injection, thank you."

  "You cannot leave before I have introduced you to my son, and before I made you a cup of coffee. This is Hendrik L Maritz, my son. These are his consulting rooms, he is the doctor.

  "He is the doctor? And you?"

  "I am the doctor's father."

  "In other words, you are … fortunately not …" she laughed in relief.

  "Never. I cannot stand blood pouring from a human being," he answered solemnly. "That was why I could not take payment from you. They would take me off the medical roll."

  "You were not even on yet, and already taken off. Goodness, what a relief. At one stage I decided that you were the most incompetent quack I have ever encountered in my entire life. It reminded me of Chris and his story about your banana fingers …"

  "Yes, I know that story. Nevertheless, for a lay doctor I did a good job. Hendrik, you should have seen how that wound was gaping when she arrived." He removed the gloves and threw them in the waste bin. "I was convinced that I should have earned a Honorus Crux for bravery because I was still standing on my feet."

  "You were sitting down! On that chair," Lana said. "You were not on your feet at all."

  "But he was brave. A head wound does bleed a lot. You definitely have potential, Dad, a lot of potential." His son started clearing up the room. "This place looks as if a battle had taken place here. I think you should develop your talent by spending more time here. You can start tonight by putting everything away that you have pulled out."

  "In your dreams, my son. Lana, we will park your bakkie behind the centre. I am taking you home. Good bye Hendrik, don't forget to lock up. You will have to prepare your own dinner tonight, I am coming home late."

  "H'm". Hendrik looked at the chaos. "I will come in early tomorrow morning to clear up this mess. It is going to take a while." He followed them and locked the door.

  "My bakkie! Goodness. Look, I left the door open when I jumped out. My cell phone was on the seat." Lana ran up to her bakkie and started looking for her cell phone. "Okay, the cell phone was on the seat. I suppose it disappeared."

  "Somebody found a nice present," Hendrik teased her, pointing at the people sitting on the bottle store's veranda. The people just stared back at them with no expression on their faces. Nobody saw anything; nobody heard anything and nobody done anything wrong.

  "Has anything else been stolen?" Henk asked concernedly.

  "No, fortunately I removed the keys and I took my handbag with me." She showed him the handbag still hanging over her shoulder.

  "Did you lock your house?"

  "Good question. I am not sure."

  "Let's go and see. Hendrik, please park Lana's bakkie in one of the garages behind the centre and lock it. I am taking Lana home to make sure everything is okay there."

  "Yes, Senior, will do," he teased and jumped to attention. "You will have to fill up your wagon. There was no time to put diesel in."

  "No time?"

  "No. I had to respond to the anxious call for help over my cell phone, and so I came straight here to come and save the day."