Free Hurricane by Terry Trueman Page B

catch up.
    I step past them and walk into the living room. Everybody looks up at me and at the Anglo doctor and the nurse.
    I say in Spanish, “This is Captain Dr. Albertson and Lieutenant Nurse Sally. They’ve come to help us. They don’t speak Spanish, but I’ll help.”
    I look around for my mother and Juan, but they’re not here.
    â€œWhere’s Juan?” I try to ask, but the words stick in my throat.
    Mom, carrying Juan on her hip, steps into the room from her bedroom. Juan looks pale and tired, but he’s awake and quiet; he stares straight at us. In his right hand he carries C-3PO. I smile at Juan, but his eyes look glassy. He doesn’t smile back, but he says in a weak voice, “Berti, you came home!”
    Berti wags her tail.
    â€œPneumonia,” Dr. Albertson says to me.
    I translate for Mom, who looks very worried.
    Dr. Albertson sees Mom’s reaction and quickly adds, “He’s going to be just fine. I’ve given him enough antibiotics to cure a whole village. In situations like this, where there is so much dampness and dirt, bronchitis and pneumonia are quite common. But your little brother is strong, and we got to him early. He needs bed rest and fluids, but he’ll be okay.”
    My eyes sting again. Thanks, God, I say to myself.
    Nurse Sally says to me, “You did well, José. I’m so glad you found us and helped us get here. Good work.” Her kind words make me feel good, but embarrassed too.
    I mutter, “I’m just glad you were coming here.” Dr. Albertson smiles at us. Watching him work with Juan, I notice again how large the doctor’s hands are as he gently takes Juan’s tiny arm and lifts it up.
    Dr. Albertson says to me, “It’s lucky we met you. The translator for our team, Sergeant Pérez, is on leave. His wife is having a baby. He’ll be catching up with us next week, but in the meantime we weren’t sure how we were going to manage. You’ve helped us as much as we’ve helped you.”
    This man saved Juan. He can do no wrong in my eyes.
    Now the doctor asks me to translate his words to my mother.
    â€œMrs. Cruz, you have good boys here,” he says, smiling. I’m a little embarrassed to translate this. The doctor sees my hesitation. “Tell her exactly what I said, José.”
    I follow his orders, and my mother smiles and nods. He says, “Mrs. Cruz, you’ve done a wonderful job helping your neighbors. Now I need to ask you to do even more.”
    Dr. Albertson pauses to allow for my translation to catch up. Mom nods as I talk. When I’ve finished speaking, he adds, “Your home looks like the only secure structure in La Rupa. We need to set up an emergency clinic here just for today. Is that all right with you?”
    As I finish my translation, Mom nods and says “Sí, claro.”
    I translate her words: “Yes, of course.”
    â€œThank you, ma’am,” Dr. Albertson says. “I know that you have family out and unaccounted for. We’ve put out a search for them, and I’ll keep you posted of any developments.”
    Mom listens to my translation and just nods and says, “Gracias.” There is no change in her expression.
    Watching them talk, I’m surprised all over again by how strong and brave my mother is. Mom is just over five feet in height, yet she looks up directly at this tall soldier as he speaks. She doesn’t speak English, but she listens carefully to him and watches his expressions, and then listens just as carefully to my translations of his words. She doesn’t show how worried she really must be.
    The doctor and Nurse Sally begin to move people from one side of the room to another, and Nurse Sally calls out to the other soldiers to hurry and bring up the medical supplies.
    â€œYou’re first,” she says to me.
    â€œWhy? I’m fine. I’m not hurt.”
    â€œOh, really?”