excerpt
Anton and Mary followed. There were a few people waiting to be
called in. The paramedics wheeled Dylan to a bed and helped him
on it; a nurse pulled the curtain of the partition creating a secluded
area where Dylan was to be examined. They advised Anton and
Mary to wait in the waiting area. They walked there and sat in two
adjoining seats. Anton was nervous, couldn’t keep himself still;
Mary looked at him; she was nervous too.
“Try to relax Mr. Jonas,” she said to him.
He smiled at her and said, “Mr. Jonas? Thought we agreed
that I was Anton and you Mary,” he corrected her with a light
laughter.
Mary laughed too, “Yes, I remember, Anton,” she said
jokingly.
Anton looked at the people around the waiting room: a
young mother with a child no more than two who was constantly
crying and although his mom tried various ways to calm him
down the boy kept on crying. The mother’s eyes turned to the
nurse behind the desk as if begging for someone to come and
guide her inside where a doctor could look at her boy. Disappointedly
no one was eager to do so. A local Indian woman in
her fifties just walked in there and she looked that she had hard
time keeping her head up. No one could imagine what might be
today’s issue for this woman who walked to the front counter and
talked to the nurse. The nurse pulled a little back and wrote the
details of the woman on her papers then she showed her to sit
down and wait for her turn.
Then Anton turned and looking at Mary’s eyes asked,
“How are you doing?”
Mary smiled at him, but said nothing.
“I meant how you have been doing at the school…” he
added.
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