Peak of the Season

It is a hot mid-September morning. The malaria season is at its peak. My office, which serves as the admissions and emergency room, is very hot and humid. A mother rushes in with her comatose six-year-old child. She is crying. Looks sick and pregnant herself. She talks. I do not understand. I am the doctor. Her last hope for the child. She looks tired and covered with dust. She must have traveled far. Probably from across the north bank of the river. Walked a bit. Rode on a mule cart part of the way. Waited a bit for the ferry or the canoe. Then took the bus …