Read Online Marshlands by Matthew Olshan - Free Book Online

He got down on the carpet, still feeling woozy, and went over the wet area with his sleeve. An ice cube had skittered under the sofa. He tried to reach it, but it was too far away. Still, it felt good to lie down.
    When she came back and saw him on the floor, she helped him up, but brusquely. There was irritation in her voice when she announced that dinner was ready. She sat him at the little table in the kitchen facing the sink, which was piled high; it looked as though she’d used every pot and pan in the kitchen to prepare their meal.
    She served him in silence. He waited for her to be seated, but she went to the sink and began cleaning up.
    He asked her to join him, but she insisted that he go ahead and start.
    He was certainly hungry enough. The food smelled delicious. The drink and tiny nap had sharpened his appetite. He still had no idea what she’d prepared. Some kind of meat stew with wild rice.
    Finally, she realized he wasn’t going to eat without her. She made herself a plate with very small portions and sat down.
    There was no talking for a while. The stew was the kind of dish that should have been simmered for hours. Even so, the flavors were good. He liked the rice the best. She made it in the marsh style, sautéing it with a bit of onion before adding water, which made it glutinous. He could have eaten several helpings of the rice with gravy, but there was no way to leave the meat, so he ate the meat as well, cutting it into bits.
    She misinterpreted his fastidious cutting. She apologized and said she should have known that his teeth would still be sore.
    Even though he didn’t want there to be any untruth between them, he was grateful for a reason not to have to eat the meat, which was very strong and gamey. She asked if he knew what kind of meat it was.
    He shook his head.
    She smiled triumphantly and told him it was wild boar. She obviously considered boar a great delicacy. Here in the capital, it probably was, but back in the marshes he used to hunt boar all the time, not for the meat but to ease the burden of the farmers, whose crops were ravaged by wild pigs, and who were often victims of their deadly attacks.
    He started to say something about boars, but she cut him off. “Would you be interested in staying on at the clinic?” she asked.
    It was an odd question. She made it sound as though working there had been his idea. He said that being with patients made him feel useful, but he doubted he had much to contribute.
    She told him he was being too hard on himself. “It was only your first day,” she said. Then she asked him what he thought the clinic needed.
    â€œA real doctor, for a start,” he said.
    â€œSeriously, what else?” she said, handing him some paper and a mechanical pencil. “Make a list. Think of it as a village dispensary, a place equipped to handle anything short of major surgery.”
    The phone rang. She answered it in the living room while he worked on his list. The problem interested him.
    He’d already made a page of notes when she came back to the kitchen and leaned on his shoulder. Her eyes were brimming over.
    â€œSo much for my ally on the board,” she said.
    He wrapped an arm around her waist. She curved herself to him and stood that way for a time.
    â€œThey’re going to ruin my village,” she said. “For the second time.”
    â€œI’m so sorry,” he said.
    There were only a few ways for the evening to resolve itself, all of them complicated. He asked if he could use her shower. She told him he was welcome to.
    He showered without any thought of how much hot water he was using. The bathroom was full of steam by the time he finished. The towels were all very large. He wrapped himself up to the armpits in one before going back out.
    She’d laid out fresh clothes for him on her bed. He took them back to the bathroom and dressed. The bathroom was very small and the floor was wet, but he was