Page 92 of Cilka's Journey
Cilka moves to the side of the bed, bending down to try to examine the girl who continues to thrash about.
“What can you tell me?” she asks her mother.
“She didn’t eat her dinner last night and complained of pain in her stomach. My husband gave her something to settle her—”
“Do you know what he gave her?”
“No, I don’t know. She didn’t come for breakfast. I checked on her and she said the pain was back and wanted to sleep. I left her but when I returned a short while ago, she was like this, and won’t say anything. Please, what’s wrong with her? You have to help her.”
Maria’s jewelry clatters on her wrist as she gestures emphatically.
“Let me have a look at her.”
Cilka attempts to restrain Katya’s flailing arms.
“Katya, this is Cilka, I’m here to help you,” she says soothingly.“Can you please try to lie still and show me where it hurts? There’s a good girl. I want to look at your stomach.”
Cilka glances back at the door where the guard, Pavel and Kirill all stand watching.
“You three, get out and shut the door. I’ll call you when I want you.”
She turns back to Katya and hears the door close.
“That’s better, now let me see your stomach. You’re doing well, Katya, you’re a brave girl. I know that. We met before, when you fell off the roof and broke your arm.”
Katya settles somewhat, allowing Cilka to lift her nightdress and look at her stomach. She can see it is distended.
“Katya, I’m going to gently touch your stomach. Tell me when I hit the spot that hurts the most.”
Starting up beneath her rib cage Cilka gently pushes down, quickly moving her hands a few inches at a time. As she moves down to the lower abdomen, Katya cries out.
“What is it, what’s wrong with her?” Maria fusses. The room carries the deep, rich smell of her perfume, making Cilka’s nose twitch.
“I’m sorry, I can’t be sure, but if we get her into the ambulance and to the hospital, the doctors there will be able to diagnose and treat her. I’m going to give her an injection to help with the pain and then we will transport her in the ambulance.”
Cilka can feel how her knees sink into this soft, plush carpet. How nice it would be to lie down in here. To be cared for by a mother, worried over, in this pillow-laden bed.
“I’ve sent someone to tell my husband. He should be here soon. Maybe we should wait and take her in his car.”
“The sooner we get her to the hospital the better, if you don’t mind. I’ll ride in the back of the ambulance with her and look after her.”
“All right. I trusted you once before, I’ll trust you again. And I would like the doctor to be Yelena Georgiyevna again too.”
“Pavel,” Cilka calls out.
The door opens. Pavel and Kirill stand in the doorway.
“Bring me the medicine.”
Kirill hurries over, placing the drug box on the floor and ripping off the lid.
Cilka quickly locates the medication she wants, fills a syringe and gently injects Katya in the arm. She holds her arm while the pain medication takes effect and Katya settles.
“Get the stretcher, quick, and take the boxes back with you.”
The two return with the stretcher. Cilka and Maria lift Katya as the stretcher is placed on the bed. Gently they lower her onto it, wrapping her up in blankets from her bed.
“Let’s go,” she says to Pavel and Kirill. Turning to Maria, she says, “Do you want to come with us in the ambulance or can the guard bring you in a car?”
