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"I wanted to see a scientist," said Chinma, in English because he didn't know theYoruba word for "scientist."
The man laughed at him. "You think they come here? It's stinky here."
Chinma was disappointed, but then he thought: I can tell one of the doctors at the clinic.
That was why he was the first one off the back of the truck when they got to the clinic again—he didn't want to give anybody a chance to tell him to wait out in the parking lot. He ran inside and went right up to the lady in a white dress who sat behind a table in the waiting room.
"I want to talk to a doctor," he said in English.
"What's your problem?" she asked.
"No problem, I have to tell something."
She pointed to the other people in the waiting room. "These people all have problems. They need the doctor. If you don't have a problem, then go away, little boy."
That was all right. People were always saying no, and if you waited long enough sometimes you got a chance to do it anyway. Meanwhile, he had other business.
"How is my brother Ire?" asked Chinma.
"Your brother?" asked the lady.
"We leave him here. An hour ago," said Chinma. "Then we take the monkeys and come back."
"Did your brother have a bite on his hand?" asked the lady.
"Monkey bite," said Chinma.
She stood right up and grabbed him by the wrist. "Come with me!"
One of the men waiting in a chair against the wall started to protest that he had been waiting much longer.
"Sit down or go home," said the lady. And then they were through the door into the treatment room.
Chinma could see five beds, and all of them had somebody lying or sitting on them. Ire was not any of them. Then he realized that a curtained-off area must have another bed in it. The lady went there and pulled him inside the curtain.
Ire was on the bed. His eyes were wide open and he was breathing very thickly and heavily, his chest heaving. The doctor was on a cellphone, talking to somebody. He waved the lady away.
"This is his brother," said the lady, ignoring the doctor's wave. "It's a monkey bite."
"Monkey bite," said the doctor into the phone. "Wait. Listen while I question the brother." Then the doctor turned to Chinma. "What is this man's name?"
"My brother Ire. He works here. In Ilorin. At the factory, an accountant."
"Where did he get this bite?"
"Long way down the highway," said Chinma. "Long dirt road. Trees … alone … " He didn't have enough English to describe the large but isolated stand of trees where the monkeys had been.
"We need to get someone out there to find the monkey that bit him," said the doctor. "Can you lead us there?"
Chinma shrugged. "My brother Ade lead you. Why?"
"It's a scientific matter that you wouldn't understand," said the doctor.
"Why go to the trees? The monkeys—"
"Quiet, little boy, I'm on the telephone," said the doctor. Then he went back to talking medical language that Chinma mostly didn't understand. After a while he flipped the phone shut.
He told the lady in white to give Ire an injection. "We've got to get his blood pressure down or … "
