YANNIS (Cretan Saga Book 1) (54 page)

They followed him to where Panicos was sitting in the early morning sun. He attempted to rise and they hurriedly motioned him to stay where he was. Father Minos sat down beside him; the man did look a little fitter than when he had last seen him. By his side nestled a kid, Panicos stroking its head fondly.

‘How’s Mamma?’ Yannis took the opportunity to ask Andreas.

‘About the same; I haven’t seen her myself, but Pappa goes each week.’

‘Why so often?’

Andreas shrugged. ‘I’ve no idea. Business he says. Did you get my letter?’

Yannis’s face saddened. ‘Poor Maria; poor Babbis, too. Why is life so unfair to some people?’

‘I wish I knew the answer to that, Yannis.’

‘What’s happened to the baby?’

‘I thought I said, Anna’s looking after him.’

‘Anna? Why? What’s wrong with Babbis’s mother?’

‘He says it would be too much for her. Personally I think he blames little Yannis for Maria’s death and can’t come to terms with the child yet.’

Yannis pursed his lips. ‘Poor little boy! Why did they call him Yannis?’

‘It was Maria’s choice. After you – and your Pappa,’ added Andreas.

Yannis felt sentimental tears come into his eyes. ‘Babbis didn’t mind?’

‘If Maria had asked him for the moon he would have tried to get it for her.’

Yannis nodded. ‘He’s a good man. How’s Anna coping?’

‘It’s been hard, with your mother and the rest of the family to look after.’

‘Poor little Anna! Her whole life has become one long round of looking after people.’

‘She does enjoy it,’ Andreas assured him. ‘She’s highly thought of in the village, now the Widow can’t get about much.’

‘Oh, well, so long as she’s happy.’

‘Stelios is going to school in Aghios Nikolaos in September.’

‘Really? I hope he enjoys it and does well. What’s happened to Mr Pavlakis – and Louisa?’ he added.

‘Father Minos would know more than I do about him.’ Andreas beckoned and the priest walked over to them. ‘Yannis was asking about Mr Pavlakis.’

Father Minos raised his eyebrows and looked quizzically at Yannis. ‘He’s quite a public figure now. A member of the local government and aiming to rise higher.’

‘And Louisa?’

‘She appeared well. She has a child, you know.’ Father Minos watched Yannis’s reaction to his words.

‘Only one? I would have expected another by now,’ answered Yannis calmly. ‘Does she still work in the taverna?’

‘So I understand, her brother’s still there also.’

Yannis nodded. ‘It all seems so long ago. Come up to Phaedra and Kyriakos. They’ll be pleased to see you.’

‘Where’s Flora? Manolis seemed quite downcast when she wasn’t there to greet us.’

Yannis’s face became grave. ‘Spiro’s with her; she’s very sick.’

‘Her arm?’

‘It’s spread so suddenly. Spiro says it’s only a matter of time. The silly little girl said nothing, she must have been in pain for weeks.’

‘Didn’t the doctor see her when he came?’

‘He doesn’t have time to see everybody and she avoided him. I wish I knew what was going on. We’re left alone for God knows how long, then suddenly a doctor visits us.’ He turned to Father Minos, a look of terror in his eyes. ‘What are they planning to do with us?’

‘Do with you? Why, nothing.’

Yannis looked at the priest in disbelief. ‘There’s something going on.’

‘If there is I hope it’s for your good. When I left here I went to Doctor Kandakis. He was most unhelpful, so as soon as I was back in Heraklion I wrote to the authorities. I heard nothing, so I wrote again to the doctor who did not reply. I visited him yesterday and he said he’d resigned his responsibility for the island and had no idea who was in charge. I was waiting for Manolis to return when I bumped into Doctor Stavros.’

Yannis still did not appear convinced. ‘I suppose Doctor Stavros talked about building hospitals, latrines and burial grounds?’

Father Minos smiled. ‘He did and he’s right. He thought I’d sent over sand and cement for you to build a church! He’s a good man, Yannis, he has your interest at heart.’

‘I thought he was just going to write another report for the authorities. I was surprised when he came again.’

‘He’s going to come every Thursday. I was there when he arranged it with Manolis.’

‘Maybe he’ll have some medicine for Flora when he comes,’ suggested Andreas.

‘Maybe. Let’s go and have a look at her.’

The young girl was lying on a mattress in the house she now shared with Phaedra. Spiro looked up as the figures blocked the doorway.

‘She’s still delirious. You can’t confess her until the fever breaks.’ He mopped her forehead again with a damp rag.

Andreas plucked at the priest’s sleeve. ‘The doctor – Manolis would go.’

‘Manolis has probably gone fishing.’

‘I’ll go and see. If he’s still there I’ll tell him he must fetch the doctor.’ Without waiting for an answer he was gone, running up the path and down through the archway to the port. Manolis’s boat was bobbing gently at the quay and Andreas gave a sigh of relief.

‘Manolis! Manolis!’

His head turned, he had waited, hoping Flora would put in an appearance.

‘We need the doctor,’ gasped Andreas. ‘You must get him. Tell him it’s urgent.’

Manolis did not stop to question Andreas regarding his mission. He raised his hand as he cast off, hoping the wind would hold and wishing he had a motor engine. Andreas watched as the boat rounded the island and was lost from view. Slowly Andreas walked back to the house where the sick girl lay.

‘He’s gone,’ he announced. Father Minos was on his knees beside Flora, holding his crucifix in his hands and praying fervently. Andreas joined him in his intonation, whilst Yannis crossed himself and left the house. He could be more useful elsewhere.

Phaedra climbed to the top of the island and scanned the horizon. She had reckoned without Manolis’s common sense as she looked across the open sea. Manolis had started on the usual route and then remembered the canal. It was hard work taking the sails down and manoeuvring the shallow water on his own, but it would take almost an hour off his journey. He returned the same way, urging the doctor to lower his head to clear the concrete bridge.

He had repeated Andreas’s message and urged him to hurry, fretting at the delay whilst the doctor visited the hospital to collect the parcel of medication that had been promised to him. To the doctor’s enquiry regarding the patient Manolis could not help. He had no idea who the patient was and the doctor had a horrible suspicion that there had been an accident.

Phaedra stumbled down from the rocky plateau where she had been keeping watch and hurried down the path to where once again Yannis was supervising the cement skin to a house. ‘There’s a boat coming. It could be Manolis.’

This time Yannis did not hesitate, but followed Phaedra down to the quay where Manolis was just mooring. The doctor scrambled ashore, waiting until Manolis could hand up his bag and push a box on to the jetty for him.

‘Who’s my patient?’

‘Flora. She has gangrene.’

‘Flora!’ Manolis face had paled and he leapt ashore. ‘Where is she? Show me the way. Why didn’t anyone tell me when I arrived this morning?’

‘You can’t go to her. She’ll be all right. The doctor’s here.’

‘I’ll show you. Follow me.’ Phaedra pushed her way between the men and Manolis followed her gratefully.

‘Tell me about this girl.’

Yannis picked up the box Manolis had left on the quay. ‘Is this yours?’ The doctor nodded and Yannis continued. ‘She’s not very old, maybe fifteen or sixteen. Her arm’s been getting steadily worse, then her temperature shot up a couple of days ago and this morning she was delirious.’

‘You’re sure it’s gangrenous?’

Yannis nodded.

‘Why didn’t you tell me? I’d have made her a priority when I was here. She’s the little girl who greets the boats, isn’t she?’

‘She seemed all right and never complained.’ Yannis pointed to Phaedra’s house. ‘She’s in there. Spiro’s with her.’

‘I expect Manolis is also in there,’ remarked the doctor grimly. He strode through the doorway and waited until his eyes became accustomed to the dim light. Removing his jacket and rolling his sleeves up above the elbows he knelt down on the earth floor and unwrapped Flora’s arm. Spiro continued to sponge her forehead and Manolis was holding her other hand. Father Minos rose, signalled to Andreas and left the house for deep breaths of the fresher air outside.

‘I can’t see a thing,’ complained Doctor Stavros. ‘We’ll have to carry her outside.’

Half dragging, half carrying the girl on the mattress they manoeuvred their burden through the doorway and deposited it on the ground outside. Examining the offensive arm in the sunlight the doctor was appalled that such neglect had been allowed to continue for so long. He looked around helplessly. Never before had he been confronted with such a situation. He walked over to where Yannis stood with Father Minos and Andreas.

‘What do you want me to do?’ he asked.

Yannis looked puzzled. ‘Don’t you know what to do? You’re supposed to be a doctor.’

Doctor Stavros regarded him steadily. ‘I know what to do, medically speaking. I can’t guarantee she’ll survive.’

‘And if you leave her?’

‘Maybe a week.’

Yannis rubbed his cement-caked hands down his trousers and looked at the priest, then to Manolis who was kneeling beside Flora, talking to her softly, although it was doubtful if she could hear him. Yannis swallowed hard.

‘If it was me I’d like you to take the risk.’

The doctor nodded briefly and turned back to his patient. He lifted Flora’s arm and she moaned in her delirium. The blackness of the dead flesh had spread above the elbow and down to her wrist. The discolouration giving way to a greenish bruising streaked with red.

‘I shall need hot water, plenty of it.’

‘I’ll get Ritsa to help me. It will take some time.’

‘Get it started,’ the doctor answered Phaedra tersely. He opened the box that Yannis had carried up from the quay and sucked in his breath. Only one bottle of morphine! He would need at least two for the operation. He examined the rest of the contents, two bottles of methylated spirits, six rolls of bandages, two bottle of iodine and a dozen bottles of aspirin.

‘Has anyone any medication on this island?’

Yannis shook his head and the doctor sighed, wishing he had a bottle of raki with him. ‘Go and wash, all of you,’ he included Andreas in his directive. ‘I shall need help.’

Doctor Stavros walked over to Father Minos. ‘Father, tell me I’m doing the right thing.’

‘My son, it’s always right to try to save a life. You are the judge of your own capabilities, but God will guide you. The poor little girl is in His hands.’

‘Pray for her.’

‘I’ve done nothing else since we sent for you.’

The two men sat and waited until those who had gone to wash returned. Finally Phaedra returned with a shallow bowl of water.

‘I need more than that, much more.’

‘There’s more coming. We haven’t any large containers.’

‘I need a stick, about that big, or a fork, that would be better.’

‘I’ll get one.’ Phaedra re-entered the house and emerged holding a fork with a missing prong. The doctor eyed it suspiciously. It would have to do. Flora moaned and Doctor Stavros looked at her warily. Was her system strong enough to withstand the shock? He gazed at the concerned faces before him. A short distance away a crowd was gathering. Word had spread that the doctor was going to save Flora and everyone wanted to witness the miracle.

‘Father, take the people lower down and conduct a service, anything, just keep them away from here, Manolis also.’

The priest nodded, relieved. He had no wish to witness the operation that was about to take place. He had a sneaking feeling that his stomach would betray him. Andreas made to follow him, but the doctor called him back.

‘I need your help, and you two,’ he pointed to Yannis and Spiro. He waited until Phaedra had deposited two more bowls of water and was out of hearing before he continued. ‘I’m going to amputate her arm. There’s no other way. I don’t know if I’ll be successful, but it’s her only chance.’ He held up the bottle of morphine. ‘I’ve only one bottle. It’s not enough.’ He looked at the three men, trying to sum up their strengths. ‘You’ll have to hold her.’ His eyes rested on each of them in turn, their eyes looking back showing the fear they felt. ‘You must do exactly as I say when I say. It isn’t going to be easy.’

He received no answer, just three pairs of eyes gazing steadily back at him. Through the fear there was now determination showing. Doctor Stavros rolled up his coat and knelt on it, he then opened his bag and began to lie out an assortment of implements. Finally satisfied that all was ready he washed his hands in the boiled water.

‘You,’ he spoke to Spiro, ‘at her head. You,’ he pointed to Yannis, ‘on that side and hold on tight, both hands. You,’ he pointed to Andreas, ‘hold her legs. If she really starts to buck you’ll have to lay across her.’ Silently the three men moved into the positions allocated to them. ‘You’ll do the morphine,’ the doctor pointed to Spiro. ‘Like this.’ He gave a demonstration, then passed the bottle over. ‘Start now and count to ten each time.’

Deftly the doctor tied a tourniquet around Flora’s arm and inserted the fork. From his implements he selected a small surgical saw, holding it in the water along with a knife, reminding Yannis of a butcher. Calmly the doctor sliced through the skin on the upper arm, turning the fork swiftly as the blood welled to the surface. At the first cut Flora had stiffened and Spiro rapidly administered more morphine.

Doctor Stavros examined the raw flesh and shook his head. He placed the tourniquet higher up and re-inserted the fork. Again he cut into Flora’s arm and examined the edges of the wound. This time he appeared satisfied and continued to cut more deeply. Despite the tourniquet the arm was bleeding freely and Doctor Stavros bit his lip. He should have had someone else to help.

‘Hold that,’ he ordered Yannis, who stretched his arm obediently across. He cut again, this time through muscle and sinew that was tougher than he had expected. Precious minutes were being wasted.