Episode 5

Chapter 05

The Little Stage in the Military Compound

Alyssa's first morning in the compound began with a rooster crowing, soldiers' boots pounding past the street, and a hard knock on her door.

She opened her eyes.

The clock read 5:10 a.m.

The knock came again.

"Dr. Prescott?"

Alyssa got up quickly, put on an instant headscarf, and opened the door. A young soldier stood outside, slightly out of breath.

"Sorry, Doctor. Sergeant Baxter's son has a high fever. Mrs. Nichols asked for help."

Sleep vanished.

"I'll get my bag."

Five minutes later, Alyssa was inside Mrs. Nichols's house. A four-year-old boy lay on a mattress in the front room. His body burned, his lips were dry, and his eyes looked dull. Mrs. Nichols cried as she fanned him with a book.

"When did the fever start?"

"Last night, Doctor. I thought it was just a chill. Before dawn he started shivering."

Alyssa checked his temperature, pulse, breathing, and signs of dehydration. She asked about vomiting, nosebleeds, urination, food, and mosquito bites. In that region, a fever was never trivial.

"We need to take him to the post. He needs blood work if the equipment is ready. Don't wait."

Mrs. Nichols panicked. "Is it dangerous?"

"Not necessarily. But we shouldn't guess."

The sentence was simple, but it made Mrs. Nichols move. Sergeant Baxter, who had just returned from his morning run, immediately picked up his son. They hurried to the health post.

At the post, Alyssa worked with Midwife Renee. The equipment was limited, but enough for an initial exam. She noted the possibility of dengue, malaria, or another infection. The boy began improving after fluids and fever medication, but Alyssa still requested observation.

The news spread faster than she expected.

By midday, three mothers arrived with their children. One had a cough, one had itching, and one only wanted her child "checked while we're here." Joe whispered from the medicine table.

"Congratulations, Doctor. Day two and you're already the compound doctor."

Alyssa wrote a prescription. "Better they come now than wait until it's severe."

"True. But be ready. Once the mothers trust you, your life will never be quiet."

He had not finished speaking when Mrs. Willa came in with a tall, fair-skinned woman whose hair was pinned neatly and whose military wives' association uniform fit her perfectly. Her smile was sweet. Her eyes assessed everything.

"You're Dr. Prescott?"

Alyssa stood.

"Yes."

"I'm Sylvia. Captain Ryan's wife. I help coordinate the women's activities in the compound."

Her tone was smooth, but she placed her position on the table with care.

Alyssa smiled politely. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Ryan."

"I heard you only arrived yesterday, Doctor, but you already handled Mrs. Nichols's child. Very impressive."

"I was only doing my job."

Sylvia looked around the modest health post.

"As it happens, tomorrow we have a small social gathering and a military wives' association meeting. Usually, the commander's wife attends to greet the women."

Joe pretended to be busy arranging cotton.

Renee lowered her head.

Alyssa remained calm.

"I'm not an active member of the association. I'm here as the assigned doctor."

Sylvia's smile did not change.

"But you are Major Whitmore's wife, aren't you?"

The sentence dropped like a stone in the small room.

Mrs. Willa looked far too interested.

Alyssa closed the patient folder.

"Administratively, yes."

Sylvia's brows lifted slightly.

"Administratively?"

"I mean I don't want my personal status to interfere with my work."

"How admirable. So humble."

The compliment pinched.

Sylvia continued, "But in this compound, a person's position still carries responsibilities. The women will certainly want to get to know the commander's wife."

Alyssa wanted to say, Don't call me that.

But she knew refusing too sharply would only feed the gossip.

"If there are no emergency patients, I'll stop by for a little while."

"Good." Sylvia smiled. "Oh, and tomorrow we're also discussing a health education activity. Perhaps you could give a light presentation. Preventing dengue, children's nutrition, things like that."

"I can."

"Nothing too complicated, Doctor. The women here are simple. Not all of them understand medical language."

Alyssa looked at her.

The tone was gentle.

The substance insulted two groups at once.

"Of course. A doctor's job is to make sure everyone understands, not to make people feel small."

Sylvia's smile thinned.

Renee smothered a cough.

After Sylvia left, Joe immediately whispered, "You've got nerve, Doctor."

Alyssa sat again.

"I only answered."

"Mrs. Ryan is close with Marlene Whitmore. They say Major Whitmore was almost matched with someone from their circle once."

Alyssa pretended to read the chart.

"That's their business."

"They say she was beautiful, smart, a government official's daughter."

"Joe."

"Yes, Doctor?"

"How much children's fever medicine is left?"

Joe fell silent at once.

That afternoon, Damian came to the health post.

Alyssa was recording the medicine stock. She knew he had entered even before she saw him. The atmosphere in the room always shifted when that man appeared. Soldiers stood straighter. Voices dropped.

"Dr. Prescott."

Alyssa did not lift her head.

"Commander."

"I received a report that Sergeant Baxter's child had a high fever."

"He's stable. I'm observing him until tonight. If his platelets drop or he shows danger signs, I'll transfer him to the border hospital."

"The ambulance is ready."

Only then did she look at Damian.

"Thank you."

He looked at the stock book in front of her.

"Short on medication?"

"Some. Children's acetaminophen, IV fluids, malaria rapid tests, sterile gauze, antiseptic."

"Write the list."

"I've already written it for logistics."

"Write it again for me."

Alyssa stopped.

"Wouldn't that bypass procedure?"

"I asked for a list, not for you to steal medicine."

She took a blank sheet, wrote quickly, and handed it over.

Damian read it.

"Are you attending the wives' meeting tomorrow?"

Alyssa looked at him.

News traveled fast.

"If there are no patients."

"You aren't obligated."

"Mrs. Ryan said the commander's wife usually attends."

Damian's face changed slightly at Sylvia's name.

"Sylvia has no authority over you."

"But she has influence among the women in the compound."

"Are you afraid?"

Alyssa capped her pen.

"I'm tired, not afraid."

Damian went quiet.

The words had come out more honestly than Alyssa intended.

She quickly added, "I'll attend as the doctor. If they need health material, I'll provide it. If they want entertainment about our marriage, I don't have any."

Damian watched her for a long moment.

"Our marriage?"

Alyssa felt heat rise to her cheeks, but she did not take the words back.

"An administrative term," she said flatly.

For some reason, Damian did not mock her this time.

He folded the medicine list.

"I have patrol tomorrow. If anyone makes you uncomfortable, report it to Renee or directly to the command post."

Alyssa almost laughed.

"Are you offering help?"

"I'm preventing problems."

"Of course."

Damian turned to leave.

Alyssa called out before she could think better of it.

"Major."

He stopped.

"The medicine last night. Was it from you?"

Damian did not answer immediately.

"Your palms were scraped."

So it was true.

"Thank you."

"Don't misunderstand."

Alyssa gave a small, bitter smile. "I don't have the courage to misunderstand that far."

Damian's back stiffened.

He left without turning around.

The next day, the military wives' meeting was held in a small hall near the field. Mats were spread across the floor, and the tables were full of cakes, sweet tea, and fried snacks. The women sat in clusters. The moment Alyssa entered, whispers began to flow.

"Is that Major Whitmore's wife?"

"They say she's a doctor from the city."

"Why is she only showing up now?"

"The marriage was strange, apparently."

Alyssa heard some of it.

She kept walking to the front.

Sylvia greeted her with a broad smile.

"The commander's wife finally came."

Alyssa returned the smile.

"Good morning. I'm Alyssa. Today I'm here as a doctor."

Several women exchanged looks.

Sylvia gave a small laugh. "Still so humble."

Alyssa opened her folder.

"Let's start with fevers in children. If a child develops a high fever in a region like this, don't immediately assume it's only a chill. There are several danger signs every mother should recognize."

At first, the room still buzzed with whispers.

Then Alyssa began asking direct questions.

"If a child has a fever and a nosebleed, what should you do?"

"Use a compress?"

"You can, but that isn't the main thing."

She explained in simple language. Not condescending. Not using difficult terms without explaining them. The women began to pay attention. Mrs. Nichols even took notes.

Half an hour later, one mother raised her hand and told Alyssa her child often had diarrhea. Then another asked about clean water. Then malaria. Then wounds that would not heal.

Sylvia, who had been sitting at the very front, began losing the stage.

When the session ended, Mrs. Willa approached Alyssa.

"Doctor, could you check my husband's blood pressure later? He gets dizzy all the time and refuses to do anything about it."

"Of course. Bring him to the post this afternoon."

Mrs. Nichols added, "Doctor, you explain things so clearly. I finally understand when I need to take my child to the ER."

Alyssa smiled.

For the first time since arriving, she felt as if she could breathe a little easier.

But as she gathered her folder, Sylvia approached.

"Impressive, Doctor. Only two days and you've already won the women over."

Alyssa looked at her.

"I haven't taken anything."

"Let's hope so."