Page 115 of Cilka's Journey

Cilka returns with two patients from an accident—a truck has skidded in the mud and overturned. She is kept busy for the rest of the day. She leaves the ward exhausted. Nothing has changed with Alexandr.

The next morning Alexandr is where she left him. As she begins her morning ritual of washing his face, he says quietly to her, “I thought you’d given up on me.”

Cilka jumps up, gasping.

“Yelena Georgiyevna!”

Yelena is at the bedside in an instant. “What’s wrong?”

“He’s awake; he spoke to me.”

Yelena leans over Alexandr. Lighting a match, she flicks it back and forth in front of his eyes. He blinks several times. The only other person Cilka has ever known to have eyes of such a dark brown they appear almost black was her friend Gita. Gita’s face flashes before her.

Cilka leans over Alexandr, peering into his eyes.

“I’m glad you’re back,” she says.

“Cilka. I believe we have met before.”

Yelena looks at Cilka with a half-grin. “Cilka, will you continue caring for this patient? I think you know what is needed.”

“Thank you, Yelena Georgiyevna. I’ll call you if I need you.”

“You have a beautiful voice, Cilka. I’ve enjoyed our conversations.”

“What conversations?” Cilka says playfully. “I’ve been doing all the talking.”

“I’ve been answering. Could you not read my thoughts?”

Cilka blushes. “I don’t even remember what I said to you.”

“Would you like me to tell you?”

“No, I would not. Now lie still and let me look at your injuries.”

Over the next six days, Alexandr’s injuries fade and heal. It is only when an attempt is made for him to stand and walk that the extent of the injury to his knee becomes obvious. The joint will not flex or bend without pain.

When Cilka has a spare moment, she assists Alexandr onto his feet, and with his arm around her waist, supports him as he adjusts to weight-bearing and slowly, painfully walking a few steps.

Two weeks pass and Alexandr is still on the ward.

Having spent the best part of the day at an accident scene at the mine, and assisting in surgery, it is the end of her shift before Cilka gets back to Alexandr.

“Can you stay and talk awhile?” he asks when she tells him she has come to say goodnight.

“I guess I could stay for a little while.”

Cilka grabs a chair, places it at the head of the bed and, after propping Alexandr up on more pillows than he is entitled to, she sits with him. They talk. They laugh quietly.

“Cilka,” a nurse says.

“Yes?”

“The patient needs his rest and so do you. Time to go.”

“I’m sorry. I’m leaving now.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Cilka. Sweet dreams.”