“Good morning,” he replied. He was carrying a paper bag under one arm and his medical bag in the other. “You’re up early. Will you hold this for a moment?”
Francis stretched out his hands and grabbed the medical bag. Dr. Camarillo took out a set of keys and unlocked the door, holding it open for them. Then he walked toward the counter, placed the paper bag behind it, and smiled at them.
“I don’t think I’ve met you officially,” Julio said, “but I’ve seen you at the post office before, with Dr. Cummins. You’re Francis, aren’t you?”
The blond man nodded. “I’m Francis,” he said simply.
“Yes, when I took over Dr. Corona’s practice in the winter he actually mentioned you and your father. I think they might have played cards together. A good chap, Dr. Corona. But, anyway, is that hand bothering you, Noemí? Is that why you’re here?”
“Could we talk? Do you have time?”
“Sure. Come in,” the doctor said.
Noemí followed him into his office. She turned her head to see if Francis planned to accompany her, but he was sitting on one of the chairs in the lobby, his hands in his pockets, his gaze on the floor. If he wanted to keep an eye on her, he wasn’t doing that good a job; he could easily have eavesdropped on her entire conversation. She was relieved to think he wasn’t interested in that. Noemí closed the door and sat across from Dr. Camarillo, who settled behind his desk.
“Now, what is the matter?”
“Catalina had a seizure,” Noemí said.
“A seizure? Is she epileptic?”
“No. I purchased a tonic, a medicine from that woman, Marta Duval. Catalina asked me for it, she said it would help her sleep. But when she drank it she had a seizure. I went to see Marta this morning, but she wasn’t there. I wanted to ask if you’ve heard of something like that happening around town before, if her medications have made anyone ill like that.”
“Marta goes to Pachuca to see her daughter, or she goes on herb collection trips, which is probably why you didn’t find her. But as to this happening before, I haven’t heard of such a thing. Dr. Corona would have mentioned it, I’m sure. Did Arthur Cummins examine your cousin?”
“He said an opium tincture caused the seizure.”
Dr. Camarillo grabbed a pen and twirled it between his fingers. “You know, opium was used totreatepilepsy not so long ago. There’s always the possibility of allergic reactions with any medicine, but Marta is very careful with this sort of stuff.”
“Dr. Cummins called her a quack.”
He shook his head and set the pen back on the desk. “She’s no quack. Many people go to Marta for remedies, and she helps them well enough. If I thought she was endangering the health of the townsfolk I wouldn’t allow it.”
“But what if Catalina took too much of the tincture?”
“An overdose? Yes, of course an overdose would be quite awful. She might lose consciousness, she might vomit, but the thing is, Marta wouldn’t be able to procure an opium tincture.”
“What do you mean?”
Dr. Camarillo laced his hands together, his elbows resting on the desk. “It’s not the kind of medical care she provides. An opium tincture is a remedy you could find at a drugstore. Marta makes remedies using local herbs and plants. There are no poppies here with which to make a tincture.”
“Then you’re saying it must have been something else that caused her to be sick?”
“I can’t say with certainty.”
She frowned, unable to make heads or tails of this information. She’d gone looking for an easy answer, but there was none. Nothing seemed to be easy here.
“I’m sorry I can’t be of more help. Maybe I can look at your rash before you leave? Have you changed the bandage?” Dr. Camarillo asked.
“I haven’t. It has completely slipped my mind.”
She hadn’t even opened the little jar with the zinc paste. Julio took off the bandage, and Noemí expected to see the same raw, red skin. Perhaps it would look even worse than the last time. Instead, her wrist was completely healed. There was not a single bump blemishing her skin. It seemed to startle the doctor.
“Well, this is quite the surprise. Why, it’s vanished,” Dr. Camarillo said. “I don’t think I’ve seen such a thing before. Usually it takes seven or ten days, sometimes weeks, for the skin to clear. It’s barely been two days.”
“I must be lucky,” she ventured.
“Extremely,” he said. “What a thing. Do you need anything else? If not, I can tell Marta you were looking for her.”
