Isaak bundled the older sister onto the back of his bike and wrapped her arms around his waist, showing her how to lean with him when he turned. The woman’s expanded eyes looked frightened, but she was nodding vehemently.
Maxence mounted up behind Dree. “This isn’t safe. We should have a car seat or whatever they do for motorcycles.”
“I know, but it’s her only shot. If we find a truck going that way, we’ll hijack them.”
He nodded. “Excellent idea. I have an innate knack for piracy.”
They jammed their helmets on and buckled them.
They left a note for Father Booker and Alfonso at the house where they had set up the clinic.
Dree gunned the motorcycle, riding as fast as she thought might be safe. She crouched low over the handlebars like she was riding a racehorse for speed, but she wanted to stay upright so her body could act as a windbreak for the baby between them.
Usually, while they were riding together, Maxence wrapped both his arms around her waist or braced them on either side of her, but that day he held onto her with one hand and the baby with his other arm.
The three motorcycles sped through the afternoon as the shadows lengthened, every turn feeling fraught with danger. Dree could have sworn she didn’t breathe until they pulled up to the covered awning at the regional hospital.
The three motorcycles stopped in a row. Maxence dismounted the bike and walked directly toward the doors of the ER.
Dree started to follow him, but the older sister nearly fell off the back of Isaak’s bike, grumbling something in Nepali. Dree caught her arm before she face-planted on the frozen asphalt.
Batsa translated to Isaak, “She says she will die a thousand deaths on the wheel of karma and Lord Shiva will dance and destroy the universe before she gets back on that motorcycle, but she is very grateful you brought her here.”
Dree chased Maxence through the doors. Batsa, Isaak, and the baby’s aunt were right on her heels.
Maxence was unzipping his coat and calling out, “Emergency! We have an emergency!”
Batsa caught up to him and began calling out in Nepali.
A woman wearing a dark blue sari and a long white lab coat ran up to them. “I am a doctor. What is your emergency?”
Maxence was having trouble getting the pashmina-wrapped bundle out of the knotted space blanket under his jacket.
Dree reached between his arms and retrieved the tiny infant. “Premature birth, perhaps twenty-eight weeks gestation. We’re not sure. She seems to be more than a kilogram but less than two. She was born in one of the small villages, and it seemed better to try to get her here instead of treating her up there.”
The doctor took the baby from Dree’s arms and spread the folds of the pashmina away from her tiny face.
Dree saw the baby’s mouth open in a yawn or an instinct to suckle and nearly collapsed with relief.
The doctor started walking, her long white coat fluttering in her wake, and their entire company followed. “Our neonatal unit is this way. What is this warm under the shawl?”
Batsa said, “Dree Clark, who is a registered nurse practitioner, put hand warmers in the pashmina to keep her warm.”
The doctor nodded, flaring her already enormous eyes. “That is very good, yes. You did a good job, Nurse Dree.”
Batsa said, “Your English is very good. Did you study in the United States or the UK?”
“I did a Masters in Molecular Biology at the University of Iowa.”
Batsa said, “I am living in Iowa City for the past twenty years! Did you try India Café?”
Her head bobbled. “I thought it was excellent, but I went to Masala Cuisine more because I am pure vegetarian. Here we are at the NICU.”
A NICU specialist bustled over. “What do we have?”
Dree talked medicine with them, explaining the circumstances of the baby’s birth and the relationship of the baby’s aunt, who stepped forward and took over the conversation while the neonatologist placed the baby in an incubator and took her vitals.
After a few moments that felt like forever, the doctor looked up at Dree and said, “You got her here in time, and she is warm. Her vitals are very good for a baby who is one and a half kilograms. We will do our best for her.” She called out something in Nepali, and nurses bustled over to take charge.
