Chapter Text
A week later.
“I have good news!” Fred exclaimed as he entered the room.
Patrick, lying on the bed, put aside his cell phone feigning interest in what Fred had to say. He had been about to buy his ticket back to London, but his roommate had barged in too enthusiastically.
“What news?”
“Tomorrow we will go to the Cataratas with the scouts, and you will go too.”
Patrick wondered who would think it was a good idea to take 20 kids to a place as crowded and watery as the Iguazú Falls, but Fred didn't seem to care. He had gotten a van from somewhere and they would put all the children in there and have a day out. They would be accompanied by Delia and Barbara, as well as Fred, who would drive the van.
“Fred, I… I don't think I can, tomorrow is Sunday and I would prefer to rest and…”
“And what better rest than visiting the Falls, doc? Come on, I see you a little discouraged.”
Patrick tried to hide an annoyed sigh.
Of course he was discouraged. In a few days he had seen too many deaths and serious cases in the hospital, he was also suffering from a heat wave (for Paraguay to call it a “heat wave” it was because the temperatures were significantly higher than normal, and normal was 40 °C).
And besides, and above all things, he hadn't seen Sister Bernadette for exactly 7 days. He felt like a sheepdog without the sheep, lost and bewildered. When Sister Julienne announced that Sister Bernadette would not be there for a while, Patrick thought the worst: she left because of him.
But no, or at least there was a fairly valid excuse: the nun was in Posadas doing some paperwork to be able to travel to the Mother House in Buenos Aires. There she would attend training at a prestigious university. Apparently, the girl Patrick was madly in love with was so smart that she had won a scholarship to study there.
He was instantly glad, she deserved those things, but his desperation skyrocketed when he heard how long the nun would be away: three months.
She would return, but for a couple of days, before going to Buenos Aires.
And after that, Patrick would never see her again.
He accepted the trip with the children, mostly to help the poor nurses who would have to take care that no child got lost, was bitten by an animal, or fell into the water. And also because he needed to distract himself in some way.
On Sunday he settled in the hot van, squeezed between a bunch of children who were fighting, crying or screaming too excited for the ride.
“I want everyone to line up and hold hands!” Delia announced, once they got out of the vehicle. “First we'll go to the bathroom, and then we'll go into the park and start walking. Please don't push and behave, there are many people here.”
The young woman's words were ignored, since just two minutes later Patrick was looking for a lost girl, finding her in a kiosk.
Immediately another child was bitten for wanting to grab a coati , and another began to cry because he missed his mother.
Patrick rolled his eyes, the place was full of people, it was very hot and he was just as annoying as those kids.
Finally, after a long walk, they reached the point where the Falls were and there he was left in one piece, seeing the wonderful place, not knowing where to look first. He took several photos, and although he would have liked to contemplate everything more calmly, he had children to take care of.
And, when he focused his attention on nature, he would inevitably think of someone. He found it ironic: everyone was happy, taking photos, commenting on what they saw, but he was just standing, looking and thinking. This place had the beauty of the unattainable, like her .
“It's beautiful, isn't it?” Barbara said, after taking a photo of him on a bridge with a large waterfall in the background.
“It is” Patrick answered looking at the mass of water that with force seemed to want to sweep everything away.
They kept the children as far away from the most dangerous places as possible, but they still wanted to lean out and take a closer look.
Patrick thought that going to the Devil's Throat, the largest waterfall, was dangerous for the children and also for himself: the place was so high and terrible and he felt so lonely and sad that he could only think of throwing himself there and end it all.
Suddenly, he felt something on his leg: Ramón was hugging him, preventing him from moving.
“Thank you for bringing me here, but I miss Sister Bernadette,” the boy said in a whisper. Patrick ruffled his hair, and smiled.
“Me too Ramón. I miss her so much, you don't know how much.”
****
The children eagerly sucked on their ice creams and sugar flakes, sitting on benches at the exit of the park. It was already getting dark and Patrick felt exhausted. Still, the butterflies kept landing on his hands and his clothes, and he found it so fantastic that he made several videos for Tim.
When they got back to the hospital, Sister Monica Joan complained about how dirty Ramón was and that no one had brought her ice cream. Sister Julienne gave the children some food to take home and they all said their goodbyes to go to their families. The trip was a resounding success, and Patrick still couldn't figure out how Fred managed to get not only the van, but the tickets and ice creams, all free.
Entering the kitchen with the nurses, he saw her. Sister Bernadette was there, standing by the table with her hands and arms full of flour, with a dough to make bread.
She was the one who greeted first, because he was petrified, wondering if he was dreaming.
“Good afternoon doctor.”
“Oh, good afternoon sister…Has your trip gone well?”
She just nodded, going back to the dough.
“Congratulations, I didn't know you had won a scholarship.”
“Thank you,” was all the answer he got.
Sighing, Patrick went to bathe. He would buy the ticket back to London before dinner, and try to find one as soon as possible. It was time to leave.
****
He could see her white skin in the moonlight, bristling slightly as he ran his fingers over it. Her slightly open mouth was an invitation to kiss her, and he did so. Her hair falling down her back, barely moving in the slight breeze coming through the window. He touched it and it was smooth and wavy, but not as smooth as her…
Patrick opened his eyes, he was drenched in sweat and embarrassingly masculine. He slammed a fist into the mattress, hating his stupid brain for putting images like that in his head, and also hating his stupid body for reacting like that, like a hormone-ridden teenager.
He sat on the bed, the room was full of mosquitoes despite the repellants. Fred snored happily.
He wiped the sweat from his face with his hands, huffing. He couldn't get that dream out of his head, just as he couldn't get the protagonist out of it. What would he do to forget her?
He heard some screaming and running down the hall. A door slammed and then voices on the way to the hospital. Immediately, Patrick was on his feet, and even dressed in his lab coat, to hide any evidence of his dreams.
He went out into the hall, no one was there, but there was light in the kitchen.
“Oh, doctor, we were just about to call you.” Cynthia, with her eyes wide despite the fact that her face was sleepy, looked at him scared. “A group of people just arrived, they had an accident near here.”
“Do we attend to accidents?”
“Doctor, I thought you already knew that we take care of everyone here, no matter why they came,” the girl replied with a roll of her eyes, and Patrick thought that sleepily Cynthia was impertinent but practical.
Patrick followed the nurse outside, running in the dark to the hospital.
Apparently, a truck with four people had overturned after found an animal in the middle of the road. The driver did not want to run over the poor thing but in a bad maneuver he overturned the vehicle. They all had fractures of varying degrees, and one man was convulsing, spitting blood like a fountain of dancing waters. Next to him, Sister Bernadette tried to stabilize him, but without success.
Patrick thought that, until five minutes ago, he had been dreaming of this woman, naked before his eyes, and now he was seeing her covered in blood, trying to inject something into the man while she shouted orders to everyone. Patrick felt guilty in his entire body.
“Doctor, good to see you,” she said, her wild eyes showing that she really was relieved to have a doctor there. “I don't know what to do.”
“Maybe there is internal bleeding, let's first try to stop these convulsions.”
“I tried but no change!”
“Another dose of Keppra, please!”
The patient stabilized, and they were able to control the bleeding. Apparently it was not something internal and for a few hours the man would be fine, then he would have to be referred to a more complex hospital.
When they were done with the other patients, they all crawled into the kitchen. It was dawn.
“I'll go get all this off,” Sister Bernadette said, pointing to her nightgown, completely covered in blood. She loosened it a little, Patrick saw her nightgown also dirty with blood. “You need it too, doctor.”
He looked at himself, his clothes in the same condition, and sighed.
“It will cost a lot to remove all these stains.”
“Don't worry, I'll do that.” Unbelievably, she smiled at him. “Just let everything soak in the sink, then I'll go wash.”
Patrick thanked her, although those sudden changes of mood that she had, disconcerted him. He attributed it all to the adrenaline of the shared night trying to save a poor guy, but he also sensed that when she allowed herself to be, well, herself, surface that smile, kindness and sweetness that captivated him from the first day he put a foot in the hell of the jungle.
***
“I have good news!”
“Oh no Fred, not another trip with children, please.”
The man giggled, shook his head.
“It is not with children, but it is a trip.”
“I'm not interested. It's hot Fred, traveling in this country is hot.”
“So you won't come to Sister Bernadette's farewell party?”
Patrick arched an eyebrow.
“What are you talking about?”
“There is a party in Ypacaraí .”
“What the hell are you telling me? You know I don't know anything about Guarani yet!”
“It's a place, doc. That is the name. There is a lake, a beach, and there is a festival with a fair and dancing. We will all go there, or at least most of us, and we will take Sister Bernadette. You know, the poor thing is going away for three months. And it scares me that she likes Buenos Aires and she stays there.”
“Isn't it that they can't decide where to live?”
“Yes, I know, but maybe she talks to the nuns there and stays…I don't know. I don't know that city but it must be better to live there than here, starting with the heat and dengue. And lately, she seems discouraged or bored.”
Patrick bit the inside of his cheek, arranging his clothes in the bedroom closet.
“I don't know Fred, when is this trip?”
“Saturday. Come on doc, it will be very good. It's about 300 kilometres but…”
“What?! 300? Don't dream, Fred.”
“But doc, we'll go in the van.”
“In that dilapidated van?”
“Come on, do it for Sister Bernadette!”
Patrick sighed. He would do anything for that woman, even travel 300 kilometres in a dilapidated van on a 40°C Saturday.
****
Sister Bernadette seemed more discouraged and bored than usual as they traveled. With her arms crossed, she looked out the window at the houses, cows and streets and cars and billboards.
Patrick, on the other side of the van, looked at her out of the corner of his eye, avoiding being discovered thanks to his sunglasses. It was hot and he wondered how interesting this place would be that everyone except him and Sister Bernadette were dying to get to.
“And there will be a dance contest, do you remember, Jane, when you participated with Patsy?”
“Of course Trix, we won.” Jane smiled, showing something on her wrist. “We won this bracelet!”
“Fred, did you bring the fishing rods?” Delia asked.
“Sister Evangelina kept them.”
“Yes, they are here.” The formidable nun pointed to the back of the van, full of bags, fishing rods and baskets with food. Even she seemed happy with the trip.Patrick thought this would be like a well-deserved one-day vacation.
“Doc, are you sad?” Fred said looking in the rearview mirror.
It seemed like a good time to break the news. Patrick wasn't sad about that, or yes, he didn't even know that, but Fred's question gave him the space to speak in the midst of all that excited, chattering female youth.
“Well… a little. Next week I will return to London.”
He saw Sister Bernadette instantly stop looking out the window to stare at him with her bright eyes.
The others turned to see him, making a silence only interrupted by the van's engine and the radio.
“It can't be,” Sister Evangelina was the first to speak. “We need a doctor. Does Sister Julienne already know?”
“She knew that I would be here for a month or two. That time is running out and I must return to my son and to my work.”
“Oh no, doctor, we'll miss you,” Jenny said ruefully.
“Yes, doctor, Sister Bernadette is leaving and now you too.” Chummy lowered her eyes. “We will not only lose two professionals but also two friends.”
“Well… maybe I'll come back another time…” Patrick said to alleviate the situation.
“Yes, next summer!” Trixie exclaimed.
Patrick was hesitant to return to summer hell, and he too was hesitant to return in winter or any other season.
If he wasn't lovesick for a woman, he would always come back. He liked working here, he liked these colleagues and their dedication, and selflessly helping people in extreme situations.
But he knew that if he healed his heart a little, and then went back and found Sister Bernadette, he would break it again.
“You must go back, with your son.” Jane smiled at him. “It would be lovely to meet him.”
“And he would be a friend of Ramón, and of the boy scouts,” Patsy pointed out.
Patrick smiled at them, grateful for their display of affection.
At last they reached the famous place. They parked the van and began to unload the impressive amount of things they were carrying, accommodating everything in a sector of the beach, with few people and quieter. Music of all kinds was heard, the air also smelled of food of all kinds and there were people coming to the fair to buy at the different stalls.
When they finished setting up their makeshift camp, they had lunch and then Trixie didn't hesitate to take him by the hand and drag him with the other girls to the center of the fair. In her other hand, Trixie carried Sister Bernadette, quite reluctant to follow her.
“Oh come on sister, this is in your honour!”
“I would have preferred something quieter,” she smiled embarrassed. “It would be better if I returned with Sister Evangelina, she was left alone and…”
“Oh please, sister, you're young like us, you have to live!”
Patrick saw that the nun smiled slightly, still embarrassed.
They mingled with the crowd, Patrick buying some fries as his stomach rumbled with hunger again. From afar, he saw the nurses with Sister Bernadette, driving crazy to a poor merchant selling bracelets.
“What's your real name?” Patrick managed to hear Trixie, asking Sister Bernadette.
“Trixie! How are you going to ask her that?” Jenny admonished her friend.
Sister Bernadette, redder than a tomato, only whispered.
“I can't tell you that, Trixie. My name is Bernadette and nothing else.”
Patrick, behind them, felt that he had missed a great opportunity to know a little more about her, and nothing less than her real name.
“Well, there is no bracelet with that name here!” The blonde pointed to the impressive number of cloth bracelets with women's names. “Hey, can't you make one?She has a weird name.”
The merchant just shook his head.
“Trixie, I can't…” Bernadette tried to speak to her, but the girl wasn't listening, too busy looking at the bracelets, necklaces and other fantasy jewels.
“Here's one with a "B". And it is prettier than the others!”
Trixie bought the bracelet, then asked Sister Bernadette for her arm.
“Trixie, I can't have such…personal possessions.”
“But it's a gift! So you can take it with you on your trip and remember us.”
Patrick watched as the nun was torn between accepting or respecting the rules she lived by. The other nurses looked at the situation, not knowing very well what to say. Resigned, Trixie returned the bracelet to the merchant who, also resigned, returned her money.
“Thank you Trixie, it was a beautiful gesture. And forgive me, please.” Sister Bernadette kept her head down.
“Oh honey, I'm sorry. I was… Oh, don't cry.”
“I'm sorry, and I'm sorry to make you go through this in front of people and…”
The two women hugged each other, and even though the other nurses were already looking at other stalls, Patrick stood close to them, with his uneaten fries, watching the two women. Clearly Sister Bernadette was suffering from all that and Patrick couldn't stop thinking about how stupid it was not to allow a person to accept a gift that was also made with all the love in the world.
“And now we will start with the dance contest!” said a voice in all the speakers.
Everyone milled around the dance floor, where a bizarrely dressed announcer commented on the wonderful prizes that the winning couples would get.
Trixie immediately took Fred's hand, but he refused, pointing to his waist and his leg.
“Fred, you are the best dancer I know, you can't do this to me!”
“I can't, my sciatic doesn't let me dance, much less this!”
For his safety, Patrick moved away a bit, but the blonde immediately saw him.
“Doctor, don't run away. If Fred can't compete, you will compete with me.”
“Can't you dance with any of the girls?!”
“Not this dance, it has to be with a man or I'll be disqualified!”
“And what dance is…?”
He couldn't comment any further, the music had already started and Trixie pushed him onto the dance floor. Patrick reached over to give Patsy his fries, and a second later he was in the middle of a bunch of people who clearly knew how to dance, as Trixie shook and squeezed him to the music and he tried to follow her lead.
“Doctor, it can't be that you lived here for two months and didn't learn to dance chamamé, what a shame.”
Patrick didn't even know what she was talking about, and as he squeezed Trixie's hand not to guide her in the dance but to keep from passing out in the heat and the crowd, he could see how the others laughed out loud, including Sister Bernadette. Her eyes were still red and her cheeks wet, but at least she was laughing. At his expense, but what did that matter if she was happy.
The music stopped and unfortunately the announcer approached them.
“I've never seen a couple dance so badly,” the man said, everyone laughing even more hysterically. “Where are you all?”
“I'm from here,” Trixie said, arms crossed, looking angry. “But he's English.”
“A foreign tourist! Applause!”
Everyone applauded and thanks to his foreign status, they won the award for the worst couple but they also won a bottle of wine.
The contest continued and so did the prizes, but Patrick moved away to give himself a little breathing space and also to not be dragged again to dance.
“That was quite impressive, doctor” Sister Bernadette smiled mischievously, giving him the fries that Patsy had almost finished. He just smiled sheepishly.
“I know how to dance, but not this. At least Trixie got a prize.” He scratched his head, then pointed to the beach. “I'll go get some rest. You come with me? Oh, you can have those fries, I'm not hungry anymore.”
“Thanks, but I'll go for a walk.”
Sister Evangelina was seated and firmly guarding all the bags and baskets to prevent someone from stealing them. Patrick leaned close, took a book out of his backpack, and before long Fred and Patsy appeared with their fishing rods. To Patrick's surprise, the nun joined them and they walked to a dock, leaving him with orders to take care of all belongings.
Patrick tried to concentrate on his book, it was a cheap novel that he bought at the London airport and that he started reading on the plane, but then given the hustle and bustle of work, he had forgotten to continue. It wasn't very interesting, and when he managed to figure out who was murdering who in the plot, all the nurses came back and started talking loudly and chasing each other and splashing in the water. Again they invited him to join but he declined the offer, going into the water would wet his pants and he didn't want to dress in shorts and the entire population of Paraguay would see his crooked and graceless legs. So he tried to come back with the novel.
In the distance, he could see Sister Bernadette walking barefoot on the shore, along with Barbara who was too embarrassed to show her bikini in front of everyone, so she kept her distance from the other nurses. Patrick could see them laughing and chatting, although he did not understand much of what they were saying due to the distance and the fact that they both mixed Guarani with Spanish in a chaotic manner.
When the sun went down, the nurses returned to the fair since there was a show by a music band. Patrick put his book away, ready to walk for a while. On the dock, Fred, Patsy, and Sister Evangelina continued to fish, regardless of how dark it was getting.
Patrick stood up and walked a few meters, but stopped. He heard a voice that he recognized right away and allowed himself to feel, without opening his eyes. Somewhere, Sister Bernadette was singing in that language that he would never understand but that was bewitching.
When he opened his eyes, he saw her walking on the shore of the lake, a lot of meters away from him, stopping every now and then to bend down and lift some colored stone into the water. Her voice grew softer or louder as she paced or stopped, looked at the water, and continued to hum.
To continue enjoying the show, Patrick moved away a bit, hiding behind a tree. He felt silly, but he didn't want her to see him and stop singing and above all, leave her calm and serene expression. Sister Bernadette continued, kicking up the sand a bit, waving to those who were fishing off the dock, all while whispering a strange, sweet song.
Patrick came out of his hiding mainly so as not to scare her if she got any closer. She, of course, stopped singing as soon as she saw him.
“I didn't know you were here, doctor,” she said without looking at him, concentrating on the picnic blanket.
“The girls went to the fair again, and I wanted to walk but I remembered that I must take care of our belongings.”
“Well… You can do it, I'll stay here, I'll pack everything because we have to come back in a while. It's a little late.”
“Oh no. You're right, it's late, I wouldn't want to go for a walk and…” Patrick stopped, he didn't even know what he was saying. He didn't know what to do either.
Sister Bernadette just nodded. Then she crossed her arms, as if she was cold although that was impossible. She looked up at a round yellow moon rising in the evening.
“I didn't know you were leaving too” she murmured at last.
“Yes. It's time.”
Still looking at the calm water, but not looking at him either, she frowned a little.
“It's a pity.”
“You asked me.”
She tensed, swallowed hard. She shook her head slightly.
“You don't have to go, doctor. And much less because I ask you to. Don't listen to me, it's nonsense.”
“Yes? Nonsense?” Patrick stood next to her, his arms crossed as well, looking at her even though she refused to do so. When she didn't answer anything, he continued. “I must do it. For me, and also for you. Although... you're leaving too.”
She nodded again.
Patrick was going to say that it was an excellent opportunity for her, to travel, to see other places, to get training. Anyway, he was about to say a lot of unimportant things. But he decided not to say anything. It was better this way.
She shivered but she continued to look out over the water and Patrick saw a tear roll down her cheek. Moving closer, he reached out and rested his thumb, so gently, on her cheek, to catch the errant tear. She was startled, took a step back.
“I'm sorry,” he murmured.
She lowered her head, and suddenly her tear became thousands, a cruel and silent sob crossed her face, while she covered her mouth with one hand. Patrick came over, opened his arms, waiting. And she went there, without buts or fears.
He held her gently at first, but when he felt her trembling hands tighten around his waist, he wrapped her with all his strength and love.
He kissed one of her temples, leaving a trail of kisses there and she stopped her crying to pull away a little and look at him.
“I love you.”
She shivered, her eyes liquid but bright. She barely denied.
“No doctor, no…”
“Yes, yes,” he released her, but he took her chin so that she looked at him. “I need to tell you. I love you. You know I'm in love with you, and I love you. I would give anything for you to love me.”
She lowered her eyes.
“You don't need to give anything for that. I…” she took a laboured breath, a new sob appeared.
“Shh don't say anything, don't cry.” Patrick leaned in closer, and without letting go of her chin, he placed his lips on hers, and unbelievably, she didn't move away from him.
On the contrary, she rested her hands on his arms, not in an attempt to push him away but to bring him closer. Her lips were still but tasted of her, and when they opened for him, like a flower, he couldn't help but grab her waist and hug her against his body. She sighed into his mouth, and Patrick couldn't help but smile. It was wonderful, a dream, a sweet and tender madness.
Of course, she was the one who put an end to it all, barely separating and breaking the spell.
"It can't be possible," she murmured, lowering her head.
Resigned and defeated forever, Patrick nodded.
“I knew you'd say that.”
Sister Bernadette took a step back, then another. She ran her hands through her veil slightly awkward, and without raising her eyes from the ground, she walked away from Patrick and the beach, towards the van.
Patrick didn't turn to watch her go. He sank down on the sand and, looking out at the water now fully moonlit, he let out the tears he wouldn't let her cry.
Just a few minutes later, Fred, Patsy, and Sister Evangelina returned, with buckets of fish and the rods. The girls also came back and they all got into the van, loading their things. They barely realized that Sister Bernadette was already there, waiting for them, not listening to what they were saying.
Patrick settled into his seat, and pretended to sleep all the way back to Ciudad del Este.
Cataratas (spa.): Iguazu Falls (you must visit it!)
Coatí or Nasua (gua): little animal similar to a raccoon, very mischievous, that lives in the Falls
Ypacaraí: tourist place in Paraguay, with lake and beaches
Chamamé (gua): folk music in Paraguay and Argentina