| Subject: Chapter 4 |
Author:
Kate
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Date Posted: 20:06:19 03/29/01 Thu
In reply to:
by Kate
's message, "Things My Mother Taught Me" on 19:49:51 03/29/01 Thu
****************
Always travel light.
The trip to Cairo wasn't too bad. Milla's hand was still nicely numb and Sam drove much better than Hassan. It was too loud to converse and the sun beat down on them unmercifully, but once they got into the city, Sam headed straight for Sheppard's and ordered them a pitcher of lemonade.
Milla had borrowed a shirt from Francoise, who was larger than she was. She'd tied the tails around her middle and Sam helped her roll up the sleeves, but nothing could disguise what she was: a working archeologist and not a very clean one at that. They sat on the porch, in the shade and away from most of the tourists, sipping their lemonade and nibbling on some cold sandwiches.
"Do you want to come with me for supplies, Milla, or do you want to stay here?" Sam asked finally, polishing off the last of the sandwiches.
"How long will you be?"
"At least an hour. Maybe more, but no longer than three."
When Milla shopped with Sara they generally did the medical errands quickly, then leisurely stopped by the candle makers and the soap store, smelling all the bars of soap and sometimes even buying one, but something told her Sam wasn't in the right mood to go shopping. Besides, Milla's hand was beginning to throb. "I think I'll stay here and make my call."
"Very well, then, I'll see you in a bit. Wait for me in the lobby, I don't want to have to search for you. And don't leave the hotel, please. You need to take it easy because of your hand."
"Aye, aye, Capt'n," Milla said sourly. "You're awfully bossy as a doctor. I liked you better when you were my friend. I don't know how Sara puts up with you."
Sam snorted. "Don't be a brat, Milla." He dug around in his pocket and came up with two fuzzy pills. "Here, take these and keep your hand above your heart so it doesn't throb as much. And don't wiggle your fingers if you can help it."
Milla watched him walk away -- the perfect English gentleman, despite his dusty dungarees, dark tan and wrinkled shirt. A few minutes later she saw his Jeep plunge into the crazy noontime Cairene traffic. She drained her glass, paid the bill with some money Sam had given her, and went into the hotel.
It was cooler inside. She found a phone booth, something that looked like it was at least a hundred years old, and began dialing.
After what seemed like an eternity, the phone began to ring.
**************
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