Angelique thumps down a tray. "Am I interrupting, or can anyone just drop in?" she asks. "You're not interrupting anything, yet," Gillian teases. In French, the two talk about Carter and how he's getting along and whether he's freaked out by the primitive conditions -- when all you have to do is look at his face and you know that he's in a permanent state of alarm and barely a rough shove away from needing an adult diaper. Even now, when he's shoveling food in his face, he's wearing Eau de What The HELL?! "You two do know that I'm sitting right here, right?" Carter notes dryly. Gillian claims she was saying Carter is doing great.
"Where are you from?" Angelique asks. "Chicago," Carter answers. "I work with Dr. Kovac. He called me when you got short-handed." Gillian and Angelique swap knowing glances on hearing Luka's name, and Angelique faux-innocently asks what Luka's like back at home. Gillian's expression darkens and she shoots out of her seat and announces that she needs to go back to work. Angelique explains to a somewhat bewildered Carter that Luka took an immunization team to Matanda three days ago, because when they get vaccines, they have problems refrigerating them and so teams go out to disperse them. "When do you expect him back?" Carter asks. "Yesterday," she replies. Carter gapes a bit, opting to use the classic, the original, the best -- Stunned Look #1: That's Not What I Expected To Hear. "It happens," Angelique shrugs.
A fabulous French-speaking Congolese nurse named Basinake is translating for Carter. He's with a coughing little boy who's had a fever for a week. Carter determines that it's pneumonia, and promises to make it better. The boy's mother thanks him frantically. "You're welcome," Carter says, walking away. He comes upon an old man sitting against a wall, a frail woman slumped against him. He pats her lovingly; Carter takes her pulse and chokes to Basinake that the woman is dead. "I knew," the man says in English. "She has been very ill." Carter wails that the man should've told them when he arrived that his wife was so sick. "She has had AIDS for many months. I didn't know where else to go," the man whimpers. He strokes his wife adoringly and sob-sings to her in French, then tells her he loves her. Carter backs away, affected, then turns to leave. We fade to black on Stunned Look #26: Damn, Girl.
It's Carter's sixth day in Kisangani, according to the Graphic of Time Is Our Bitch. A more comfortable-looking Carter strolls through the medical tent, addressing children in beds by their names. "How's Fazila today?" he asks. "She's in pain, Doctor," Basinake says. "Tell her I'm sorry it's painful, but I need her to be brave like I know that she is," Carter says. He walks through another row of sick children, winking at a few and grinning at others. Suddenly, the lights flicker. "Great," he curses.