The Colour of Gold (31 page)

"We're going
through the hospital entrance now." the man next to Bala said.
"Just take it easy. The doctor's will soon have you better."

Bala felt the
taxi come to a standstill. He heard the side door slide open. The
vehicle rose slightly as the two men and the driver climbed
out.

"We've got a
man here who's been stabbed in the stomach!" Bala heard one of the
men shout. "We need a doctor urgently!"

After several
minutes Bala saw a white man in a white coat and a stethoscope
draped around his neck loom over him. He felt the man take his
pulse and then fir the stethoscope to his ears and begin probing
his body. He lay quietly on the taxi's seat as the doctor worked.
He felt his trouser belt being loosened and his shirt being
unbuttoned. He watched the doctor study the wound and saw him shake
his head before disappearing from view.

"He's in a bad
way." Bala heard the doctor tell the men waiting at the side of the
taxi. "Stomach wounds can be very dangerous. All we can do at the
moment is stabilise the patient and wait. Unfortunately all the
operating theatres are fully booked. The hospital is understaffed
and under equipped. He'll have to stay here in the taxi. I've got
nearly fifty patients sleeping on the floors of the wards. There
just aren't enough beds. This hospital cannot cope at the moment.
I'll get a nurse to set up an I.V. drip and we'll stabilise him
with sedatives. We'll also clean the wound and sterilise it. I'm
sorry but at the moment that's all that we can do. As soon as a
theatre becomes available we'll come and fetch him. In the mean
time you must register the man at the reception counter. Do you
have his I.D.?"

"His I.D.'s in
his shirt pocket and his wallet's in his back trouser pocket." Bala
heard one of the men say.

"Okay, take
them to the reception and get him admitted." the doctor said.

Bala heard the
doctor hurry away. One of the men who had accompanied Bala from
Soweto appeared in his vision.

"You're going
to be okay." the man said. "We're going to take your I.D. and get
you admitted but you'll have to stay here in the taxi until there's
an operating theatre available. The doctor and a nurse will be here
shortly to attend to you. Just hang in their, my friend. You're
going to be okay."

The smell of
stale body odours and perfume from the passengers who had been in
the taxi earlier wafted over Bala together with the smell of petrol
and old oil. Every time he moved, even slightly, the pain was so
intense that he had to bite his lip so as not to scream.

Suddenly Bala
felt the vehicle dipped slightly and the face of a black woman
dressed in a dirty white nurse's uniform loomed over him. She
smiled at him encouragingly. He felt her check his pulse and then
watched as she set up an I.V. drip next to him in the taxi. The
doctor appeared again and he felt the sting of a needle piercing a
vein in his arm.

"This will ease
the pain." the doctor said. "And as soon as a theatre becomes
available we'll come and fetch you. Just lie here and try to
relax."

When the needle
of the I.V. drip had been inserted into a vein in his wrist Bala
felt the nurse begin to clean and sterilise his wound. The sedative
began to ease the pain in his body and drowsiness overcame him. He
felt the coat that had been draped over him being removed and
replaced with a thick blanket.

"Can't we take
him to another hospital?" Bala heard one of the men ask the
nurse.

"The only other
hospital is the Coronation Hospital and that's even more crowded
than Bara." the nurse replied.

"What about a
white hospital?" the man asked. "Surely if a man's dying they'll
admit him."

The nurse
laughed.

"No white
hospital in the country is allowed to take in blacks." she said.
"Even if that person is dying. The white man's apartheid laws don't
allow it."

Bala lay in the
back of the taxi as the pain in his belly gradually eased. He
thought of Fatima and Salona, imagining their fear and worry. His
frustration at his helplessness grew but he was incapable of doing
anything. Gradually his eyes closed and he drifted into
unconsciousness.

***

Fatima Desai
stood at the lounge window of their house in Lenasia anxiously
watching the street that her husband usually walked along when he
returned from working in Johannesburg. She glanced at her watch. It
was almost half past six. Bala had never been this late before. It
was almost dark outside and the lights in the neighbouring houses
were beginning to glow.

"Why's daddy so
late?" Salona asked as she sat on the lounge carpet cradling one of
her rag dolls in her arms.

"I don't know
dearest." Fatima replied. "Perhaps he missed his train or the
trains are running late."

"Can't we go
and look for him? Maybe he needs us to help him carry his big
suitcase." the little girl asked.

"If he's not
here in another fifteen minutes we'll do that." Fatima said. "Then
we can help him carry his suitcase."

But fifteen
minutes later Bala had still not arrived.

"Put on your
jersey, Salona, my dear." Fatima said. "We're going to look for
your father. The trains surely can't be running this late."

Salona hurried
to her bedroom and came back with her red jersey. Fatima helped her
to put it on. They walked to the front door and out of the house,
Salona still carrying her rag doll. Hand in hand they walked along
the dusty street towards the train station, warily watching the
other people who passed them. Eventually they reached the floodlit
station.

"Are the trains
running late today?" Fatima asked the guard at the entrance to the
station.

"No. All the
trains have been on time so far." the man replied. "Why do you
ask?"

"I'm worried
about my husband." Fatima said. "He's very late today. Usually he's
home by six o'clock at the latest."

"Is your
husband a short Indian man who carried a big suitcase?" the man
asked.

Fatima felt
fear begin to grow inside her. She looked anxiously at the black
guard.

"Yes. Do you
know him? Did you see him this afternoon?" Fatima asked, her heart
beating faster.

"Yes. I see him
every day." the man replied. "But, although I'm not sure, I did see
a man with black hair being carried from the train that your
husband usually travels on and put into a taxi in the street. I
heard that the man had been stabbed by tsotsis on the train. But
I'm not sure that the man was the one you're looking for."

"Oh, no!"
Fatima gasped. "Where did they take him?"

"I think they
took him to Baragwanath Hospital." the guard said.

"When did this
happen?" Fatima asked.

"About an hour
ago." the guard said. "I was busy checking train tickets and didn't
take too much notice of what was happening."

"Was he badly
hurt?" Fatima asked as tears welled up in her eyes.

"I don't know,
although I heard later that he'd been stabbed in the stomach." the
guard said.

"Oh, dear!"
Fatima said pulling Salona closer to her side. "Thank you."

Taking Salona's
hand Fatima hurried away from the station.

"Is daddy
hurt?" Salona asked.

"I don't know,
dearest. But if he is, I'm sure he'll be okay." Fatima said. "If he
was badly hurt he would have sent us a message. But I'm going to
take you to Misses Jassat's house while I go to the hospital to see
your father. You are not to worry though. I'm sure your father is
okay. So while I'm away, be a good girl and stay with Misses
Jassat. I'm sure that I won't be away for long."

"Can't I come
with you?" Salona asked.

"I think that
you should rather stay with Misses Jassat." Fatima said. "It's a
long way to the hospital."

"Okay." the
little girl said.

Fatima left
Salona at her neighbour's house and hurried back to the station.
Fortunately there were still several taxis at the taxi rank. She
walked to the front one and spoke to the driver.

"I need to go
to Baragwanath Hospital urgently." she told the man. "My husband
was stabbed while travelling on the train and I must get to his
side as soon as possible."

"Okay." the man
replied. "But it will cost you ten Rand as you will be the only
passenger. And you must pay cash in advance."

Fatima withdrew
her purse from her pocket and extracted the money. She handed it to
the driver. He climbed in behind the wheel while Fatima opened the
side sliding door and climbed into the back of the vehicle. The
taxi moved off along the deeply rutted dirt street. Fatima stared
out of the side window hardly noticing the dim shapes of the houses
that they passed.

"Please let
Bala be okay." she prayed silently to herself. "Please don't let
him be badly hurt. I love him so dearly. I can't live without him.
And little Salona? How would she cope without her beloved daddy? He
has to be okay."

The taxi moved
slowly through the darkness, swaying and bumping over the uneven
dirt roads. Eventually they reached the tarred road and the taxi
was able to increase its speed.

"There's the
hospital now." the taxi driver said over his shoulder to Fatima as
he pointed to the brightly-lit entrance ahead, although she noticed
that only a few of the floodlights in the parking area were
working.

The driver
steered the vehicle through the gateway and across the vast parking
area until he reached the reception area. Fatima climbed out of the
taxi and slid the side sliding door closed.

"Do you want me
to wait?" the taxi driver asked.

"No, thank
you." Fatima replied. "I don't know how long I'm going to be
here."

As the taxi
drove away Fatima climbed the steps and entered the reception area.
She hurried to the counter.

"I'm looking
for a Mister Bala Desai." she said to the black woman behind the
counter. "I think that he was admitted earlier this evening."

The
receptionist consulted a large register on the counter top.

"Yes, he has
been admitted for a stomach wound." the woman said.

"Which ward is
he in?" Fatima asked.

The
receptionist looked slightly embarrassed.

"Actually, he
isn't in a ward." she said. "The hospital is so full that we were
unable to find a bed for Mister Desai."

"But, where is
he then?" Fatima asked.

"As far as I
know he's being attended to in a taxi in the car park." the
receptionist replied. "There is just no room in the hospital right
now. In fact, we have over fifty patients sleeping on the floors of
the wards. The doctor felt that it would be better for Mister Desai
if he lay on the seat of the taxi instead of on the floor here in
the hospital."

Fatima nodded,
shocked at what the woman had just told her.

"He's in the
back of a taxi?" she asked incredulously.

"Unfortunately,
yes." the receptionist replied. "The hospital is hopelessly
understaffed and under equipped. The government is always promising
us more funds but they never arrive. We're doing the best that we
can under the circumstances."

"Thank you."
Fatima said as she turned and hurried out to the car park.

There were at
least ten white taxis parked in the parking lot. Fatima hurried to
the nearest one and peered into the back compartment. It was empty.
As she moved towards the next vehicle she noticed three men
standing next to the open side door of a taxi further along the
line. Inside the vehicle she could detect a figure lying on the
seat and covered with a thick grey blanket. She noticed an I.V.
plastic bag hanging from a hook next to the prone man and connected
to his wrist. She hurried towards the taxi and, before the men
standing nearby could stop her, she climbed into the back of the
taxi and peered down at the man under the blanket.

"Oh, thank
heavens!" she exclaimed. "Bala! Thank God I've found you!"

"Are you Mister
Desai's wife?" she heard a voice behind her ask.

Fatima turned
to face the black man standing at the door of the taxi.

"Yes." she
said. "Tell me what happened. Do you know what happened? Is he
going to be alright?"

"He's been
sedated and his wound has been cleaned and dressed." the man said.
"The doctor is waiting for an operating theatre to become
available. Your husband was stabbed in the stomach by some young
thugs on the train so we brought him here. Whether or not he's
alright, I really don't know. The doctor seems quite confident
though that he'll be okay. We're hoping and praying for him."

"What can I do
to help my husband?" Fatima asked.

"Perhaps you
can just sit and talk to him." the man suggested. "I've heard that
even when they're unconscious people can be aware of another's
presence and this can inspire them to survive."

"Who brought
him here? You?" Fatima asked.

"We did." the
man said pointing to the two other black men standing nearby. "That
man's the taxi driver and the other one's a friend of mine."

"Then I must
pay you for all the trouble you've gone to to help my husband."
Fatima said as she reached for her purse.

The man held up
his hands, the palms facing Fatima.

"Don't worry
about that now." he said. "Let's wait until Mister Desai is safely
in the hospital and going to be okay. We can sort out the finances
later. Just sit with your husband and comfort him. Even though he's
unconscious your presence will help him"

"Thank you so
much for your help." Fatima said. "I don't think I'll ever be able
to repay you and your friends for what you've done to help my
husband. Such kindness in very rare."

"Think nothing
of it." the man said. "We're glad that we were able to help."

***

The sound of
the doctor and the nurse approaching with a wheeled stretcher woke
Fatima. She sat up quickly and glanced at her watch in the light
from the closest floodlight that was working. It was eleven
thirty.