Algerian Retirement

Harry looked at his porcelain coffee cup and watched its brown contents break lightly with the drifting breeze. He drank from it intermittently, and only because it was habit to do so. He did not need the caffeine. The surplus energy would just make him nervous. In fact, in looking at the container critically, he realized that he no longer needed coffee as a whole. The drink was wasted on him.

"Don't look so morose." His wife Sue said across from him. "You've been staring at that coffee for ten minutes now."

"I don't need it anymore."

Sue sat her cup down and gave him a sympathetic glare. Her grey hair was tied up and had rogue strands that caught the seaside breeze and drifted like translucent snakes. "No," She spoke to him in the careful manner that only longtime partners could. "You're retired, you need whatever you decide you need."

"I think I don't need it anymore."

She smiled, "Spoken like a true doctor. Even if you're a retired."

Harry smiled back. It was light-hearted enough, the simple hill of retirement as they say. Just get into golfing, someone would tell him, or try traveling. Well, here he was, across the world drinking a coffee beside the Mediterranean and still thinking about the OR.

He dreamt of it that night. Alongside his lovely wife and under the easy roof of a vacation resort, he found his mind descending into an operation. His hands, facile and young as ever, moving in and out of sutures and making perfect, small movements. His mind, thinking and mediating all at the same time, clutched onto that delightful limbo of expertise where one is more of a witness than actor. The ecstasy of surgical success, finally setting back in a huff after twelve hours of ruthless pursuit, after an entire day of chasing death down with a scalpel sword and fighting the good fight, a rogue musketeer on the frontiers of life and the after.

It was the exhilarating, bleeding edge of perfection. It didn't make the heart race, but the soul. To combat mankind's oldest and most noble villain, death, and to come out on top. There existed no greater profession, no greater purpose.

He woke up at 5AM.

No alarm or event disturbed him, he awoke simply because he thought he might be needed in the OR. Outside his window he could hear the gentle movements of a moonlit ocean, speaking to him in calming tones. He didn't feel calm. He felt like his coffee cup from before -- without purpose.

That morning, after his wife awoke, they walked amongst the city. Algiers was not every couples first retirement destination, but they both knew Harry wouldn't enjoy standard locations. Granted, their resort was in the touristy, downtown area, and it was happy enough, but not necessarily enough in all.

"So pretty isn't it?" Sue grabbed his hand.

"Oh yes, very pretty." It was too, Harry was not a liar. Algiers was nicknamed by some the dazzling. Harry thought it was quite a fitting name for the oceanside city.

"I love the street vendors, it makes the city feel much more alive."

He nodded, but in his heart something stirred for more. "I want to see the real city."

"What?" They stopped. "The real city?"

He was almost as caught off guard as her. He was uncharacteristically following his gut more than his mind, and his innards spoke for him. "We're downtown, in an area made for tourists to see. I want to see what Algiers is really like."

Sue gathered herself. "Honey that's... That's dangerous."

She was right, but Harry had become gripped by something he couldn't touch or feel. It was impossible to describe, so he didn't try too. "You don't have to join me. You can stay at the beach and I'll go alone. You can stay."

"Alone?" He knew that she was trying to make him understand the absurdity of his wish. "Harry, where will you go? How will you be safe? What if you get hurt?"

"I'll be okay."

Though she wanted to, she protested no more. How he wanted to vacation, no matter how insane and dangerous it seemed, was his decision at the end of the day. She just smiled and put both of her hands around his, "Just be safe."

***

He'd taken a puttering taxi into a more local area of the city, the true city. The place where people actually lived and shopped, where locals knew each other's names and spent their whole lives together. It was every definition of bustling and busy. There were seas of people moving in between each other like the weaving threads of a grand and colorful carpet, noises of every ilk that filled the ears and smells of all genres which assaulted the nostrils -- it was raw.

Everything hit him at once, live animals being slaughtered in plain view, people eyeing him like the foreign, black sheep he was, no sense or hint of policing, merely people being people in their own little community. In a strange way, Harry felt refreshed by it all.

Then, like Pavlov's loyal hound, Harry stopped in his tracks. A sound pierced through the ether, a sword flew out of the mist and plunged into his heart. He heard a cough, a very notable and distinct cough -- tuberculosis.

Upon hearing the fit Harry transformed from a wondering, listless tourist into a bloodhound. His heartrate spiked and his head began darting around the busy scene in hunt for the source. It was automatic, no thought or planning was involved, and before he knew it Harry had charged across a busy intersection and practically hurdled over a market stand.

"The cough." He said the words without thinking of the language barrier. "Who is sick?"

It was five kids, all seemingly under the age of ten. They looked in between each other with confused, uneasy glances. What did the mysterious man want? Were they in trouble?

"The cough." He then realized what was happening and tried to emulate the cough so they'd understand, pointing to each of them in hopes they'd connect the dots.

Nothing. They stood like statues at the stranger who invaded their clubhouse.

Harry was parsing through options and ideas in his head. Algeria was not a poor country by any means, and every citizen had the right to healthcare -- but his gut. His heart and soul heard a cough and demanded action. Was he... Was even hearing the cough right?

They stared at him plainly, as if expecting more than just simple statements from the alleyway invader. "I... I..." Harry too felt underwhelmed by himself. His hands grasped the air wantingly for tools to use, but it was just him and the kids. "I... I'm sorry..."

***

"You've been quite since your trip." Sue was nipping idly at one of their bread-bite appetizers. Their resort had a rather lovely array of dinner options.

"What did you see?" She said through the crunching.

He couldn't find the words. Something in him had snapped, something strange had drove his feet to move before his mind could intervene. In the end, all he did was scare a bunch of kids who probably had nothing more than hay fever.

"And you haven't even touched your food yet." Sue leaned up, realizing a sudden cause for concern. "Honey... Are you okay?"

Harry shook his head, knee bouncing up and down with angst. "I'm going back to the city tomorrow."

"What?"

"I'm going to visit their hospital."

"Going to--" She stopped herself mid-sentence. Harry had flashbanged the conversation, causing Sue to practically fall back into her chair. "You're going to their hospital in order to..."

"I don't know." Again, Harry was an honest man.

"You don't know?"

They were silent together, sharing a moment of serious emotion and unable to find the next verbal step. It felt contentious and potentially hostile, yet none of them wanted to be the one to draw first-blood. In fact, Harry felt horribly guilty.

"Just tell me no." He said with closed eyes and fighting with his conflicting emotions. "Just tell me not to do it."

Sue was silent, looking her beloved husband up and down and feeling intense sympathy for him. They'd been together for a long time now, and while they have had their occasional fights here-and-there, they knew each inside and out.

"I trust you." She said it simply. "That is what I will tell you."

***

It was quick. He showed up to the nearest downtown hospital, proved his medical standards to the first speaking English nurse he could find, and was helping move patients the same day. It was not glorious surgical work or saving lives, but it was helping, and Harry was happy. Though he had no idea just how deep it'd go.

***

Within a week he was cleared to operate. All of his credentials were validated and his past work was proven. He'd insisted that he didn't need any pay, though they'd eventually settle on an interns stipend.

Over the next couple of months the operating room was Harry's prime vacation destination. Sue was looking into finding a more permanent, homely place to stay and Harry just kept his head down. He was worried. There was something yet again on his mind that he couldn't quite express into words. Something he just knew.

Sue didn't complain for a moment. To tell the truth she kind of enjoyed the activity of everything: Finding a small apartment, bargaining with furniture vendors, finding and trying local dishes, my god she felt twenty and newly married again!

"Lovely food." Harry picked at his plate with an idle smile. The local café bustling with hungry denizens.

"Isn't it?" Sue smiled and continued to explain her experience with a furniture craftsman. "So, when he finally understood that I was looking for a matching table, do you know what he did?"

"What's that?"

"The man just started making one on the spot! Right in front of my eyes!"

He smiled, "You asked."

"Yes I suppose I did, didn't I?"

Harry tapped his glass with a rhythmic wonder. His mind was like a rolling stomach, just waiting for a moment to spill. "They say there's a bigger need for doctors further down south."

Sue turned her head and thought for a moment. "...Further south?"

Harry nodded.

"How much further south Harry?"

He took a drink from his glass, thinking as its icy, slightly-alcoholic liquid slipped down his throat. "I don't know." He leaned up. "Mali."

"Mali?" She didn't need to sound stunned for him to know.

"Yes. Clean drinking water is difficult to get there, and thousands die from things that are easily curable."

"Given you have the right supplies."

He nodded his head, "Partly."

She shook her head and brought her tongue to her teeth. "This is..." The seriousness in her voice carried deep into Harry. "Horribly dangerous."

"Well." He coughed, putting his elbows on the table and trying to say the next words as a true doctor would: With absolute lucidity and precision. "We are retired. So... Not much left to lose if you pardon my bluntness, and, well... People are dying Sue. People we might be able to help."

"What about our retirement? Are you not happy at this hospital?"

"I am." He said honestly. "But, to tell you the truth Sue, I don't think they need me at this hospital, and retirement... Retirement never made any sense to me. I think I understand that now. As a doctor that feels like giving up. Why would I stop saving people if--"

She put up her hand to hush him. "I understand." She slowly straightened out the napkin sitting in her lap. "Alright... Alright Harry I'm with you."

***

It was dangerous. It was rough-and-tumble with a twist of holy shit! Mali was a country swallowed in political violence and stooped in a part of the world that refused to make living easy. Just crossing the border felt like a life or death coin toss. Yet they made it. They made it and felt wonderfully excited about making it.

They didn't even know what city or town they'd landed in. No guide or compass had been directing them, they moved purely by Harry's enigmatic intuition. He found the nearest hospital and -- luckily -- found a heavily accented doctor along with it.

"Help?" The overworked doctor asked with wide eyes.

"Yes." The building was pure commotion. Nurses and staff worked diligently moving the sick or injured into various chambers, clogging the hallways and brushing close by. Throw in foreign visitors and you've got yourself quite a loud and rambunctious establishment. "Wherever you need me. I'm qualified, I can clean just as well as I can operate."

The man blinked as if unable to comprehend the offer. He looked around for a moment with an exhausted gaze and finally resettled back on Harry. "Okay. Follow."

Just like that he was in. In what felt like an instant, a week of intense medical work had passed inside of the new facility. Out from one room and into another, ten, twelve, and even fifteen hour workdays started to pile onto him. The work all began to blur into itself. His hands and feet moved without him, his mind was busy thinking of this patient or that one, his fingers fidgeted for a tool and his eyes never unfocused.

Sue fell into the chaos too. Without really planning on it, the management staff picked her up as an English contact. Suddenly she was spending all day on the phone with foreign aide workers and European medical suppliers. She jumped from this office to that one and helped out in whatever way she could.

Quite suddenly both of them were consumed by the work. If they weren't at the hospital they were eating and talking about it, or they were walking home and planning the next day.

"She's really incredible." Sue explained to Harry as they made the small walk back home. "She's been teaching me how the hospital stores its supplies. I never knew it was so complicated."

"Hmm," Harry smiled, holding Sue's hand in his own. "You're doing good."

"I hope so." She nodded. "What in the world do you think everyone back home would think of this? I mean, gosh, we haven't called home in weeks now."

Harry chuckled, "I think they're getting on quite fine without our updates. We'll tell everyone soon enough."

Sue looked down at her feet. Her mind had got caught by a rogue question, one that wasn't easy for her to shake off. "Harry how did this happen?"

It was an honest question, not asked with any malice or forethought. It was so honest that even Harry had to look down and think for a moment. "I don't think it was us."

"What do you mean?"

He lifted his head back up, taking in the setting horizon while maturing his idea. "I don't think we're the retiring type Sue, and I don't think world wanted us to."

"You think it's that simple?"

"Why not?"

"Hmh," Her smile resumed, and Harry felt her hand tighten onto his. "So what's the plan for tomorrow?"

"Wherever they need us Sue. Wherever they need us."