To Sing Frogs Chapter 15c

Kirrill and one of the workers at his orphanage

“If we bought medicine for Kirrill would they give it to him?” Amy asked hopefully.

“Oh, of course. Sure they would,” Stass replied while nodding. “There’s a pharmacy nearby and I could take you to buy some medicine for him. I’m sure Tatiana would be grateful.”

Amy smiled and continued to stroke Kirrill’s cheek while she told him in English she’d get him some medicine and he would soon be feeling better.

I knew Stass was lying. Kirrill might get the first dose while we watched and that would be the end of it. After we left the doctor would give the medicine to whoever needed it most. I knew she would because that’s what I would do. You have to do what’s practical and what will accomplish the most good. It doesn’t matter who wrote a check or what promises you’re required to make to acquire necessities of life.

I told Stass I knew Tatiana was very busy, but I asked him if he would find her and request a meeting on an extremely urgent matter. He looked like I punched him in the stomach. “Look, don’t worry. We still like Kirrill. Nothing’s wrong with the adoption stuff. I just need to talk to Tatiana.”

“Everything is okay?”

“Everything will be fine.”

Amy looked at me curiously while Stass hurried out of the playroom. “Don’t worry. It’s no big deal,” I told her. “You do your thing, I’ll do mine.”

She shrugged her shoulders and went back to cuddling the baby. “Daddy’s like that. He always has to be doing something important,” she said, mostly because she didn’t know what else to say.

Kirrill just lay in her arms. He hadn’t been energetic the day before when he felt well. As a limp noodle he certainly wasn’t the life of the party.

Within minutes we were back in Tatiana’s office. Amy and I sat on the wooden chairs. Stass sat on pins and needles.

“Dr. Tatiana, how many children here are sick?”

She looked at Stass for indications before replying through him. “It’s not like the place isn’t healthy. The children are taken care of. We just have a few of them who have colds right now.”

I observed the old mismatched chairs and cabinets in the office. They wouldn’t have made it to sales floors of Goodwill stores in the States. No replacement furniture. No new buildings. No medicine. There comes a point when governments can borrow no more money. In Russia, entitlement—the fallacy of all things equal—had broken the bank.

“Sure. I understand. Kids get sick. It happens everywhere. How much medicine do you need?”

Tatiana stammered and looked to Stass for help. How much did the American know? What had Stass told him? What should she say? Stass wasn’t much help. “Medicine for Kirrill should only be about ten dollars.” The response came back to me through translation and currency conversion.

“I didn’t ask about medicine for Kirrill. How much medicine do you need?”

Tatiana and Stass began to speak back and forth feverishly. The doctor leaned heavily on her arms that braced her against the desktop. After several back and forth sentences they stopped talking and Stass looked at me. “I told her she can trust you. I told her to tell you what she needs.”

“One hundred dollars.”

I laughed in disgust and frustration. “I’m not stupid. You have well over a hundred kids, here. How much do you need?”

 

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