Part VIII Here's the thing about losing a limb (Part VII here)
The team is back the next day, with one extra. They file into the antechamber, put on tyvek and the helmets and gloves and shoe covers and come in the room. Dr. T is on speaker phone.
"We brought Dr. Willem Mica," says Dr. Stibble, gesturing to the new member.
"And I am here because?" says Dr. Mica, who has a deep rumbling bass.
"But he's useless!" says Ralph. "I need a shaman!"
"A shaman?" says Dr. Stibble. "You said someone from South Africa."
"He's WHITE. I need one of the blacks. A shaman."
"What IS this?" says Dr. Mica.
"Lights," says Dr. Stibble, sounding anxious. Dr. Span hits the lights. Ralph glows pinky orange even with the curtains open. Dr. Span slides the shades shut and now Ralph is a light source.
"OH." says Dr. Mica.
The lights are back on. Dr. T says from the cell phone, "He came to me because his arm was missing. We found it. It's back on now."
Ralph pulls at the neck of his gown and Dr. Mica and the team stare at his arm. The pink line is gone.
"All four of us witnessed the reattachment." says Dr. Stibble, sounding grim.
Dr. Mica sighs. "This is really bad. He's right. And we don't really have a shaman that I know of, but I do know someone. I will go out and call."
After a few minutes the phone rings. Dr. Stibble picks it up. "Yes?" pause. "Ok, good. Thank you." He hangs up. "Someone is on the way."
The team doesn't say much for the ten minutes.
Another person enters the anteroom. "A woman?" says Ralph. "Well, at least she's a black."
Suited up, she enters the room. "I am Dr. Elizabeth Smith. Gynecology-oncology fellowship." She smiles at Ralph. "You are unlikely to have a gyn-onc problem."
Dr. Span flicks the lights off. Ralph glows. Lights back on.
"Ah." says Dr. Smith. "Springhare?"
"Yes," says Ralph.
"How many did you kill?"
"Six."
"And you were warned."
"Yes."
"Did you eat them? How many?"
"Four. I have two in the freezer."
Dr. Smith sighs. "Presenting complaint?" Dr. T answers from the phone. "His arm was missing. It was retrieved from a dog three days later. It's back on."
Ralph pulls the gown again. "Are you a shaman?
"Women are not welcome as shamans. But we have our own version. You must make reparations or it will continue and get worse. All of you."
"All of us?" says Dr. Stibble.
Dr. Smith nods at the light. Dr. Span shuts it off and now they look at each other. None is as bright as Ralph, but they are all glowing. It is faint but visible.
"Reparations?"
"You did ask for a shaman or the equivalent. Would you prefer to consult psychiatry?"
"No," mutters Dr. Murk. "It would be listed as mass hysteria. Are we contagious?"
"Not in the sense of infectious disease. It's that proximity to your patient transmits the springhare's protection of our tribes. And so, reparations. Mr. Jaunds, you will need to return the remaining springhare to South Africa. Do you have resources for financial reparations?"
"Yes. Gun collection. How much?" says Ralph, sounding anxious.
"But wait." says Dr. Murk. "I've never heard of anything like this, any legends."
"I don't know many African myths," says Dr. Span, frowning. "But none of us had heard of springhare either."
"You probably have," says Dr. Smith. "The springhare is a trickster. The stories traveled here with enslaved Africans."
"A trickster hare?" says Dr. Murk.
"Br'er Rabbit." says Dr. Span. "Definitely a trickster."
"Yes, some of those tales are related to the springhare tricksters." says Dr. Smith.
"Do we all have to go to South Africa? Will it spread from us?" says Dr. Span.
"No, just Mr. Jaunds. I can bring a talisman to each of you. That will stop you from spreading it while you make reparations. Mr. Jaunds, tell me where you were and which tribe. I will contact my shaman and he will contact that tribe. Consider the reparations you will make and I will bring the talisman tomorrow."
"Reparations? For slaves?" says Dr. PPPPP. "But I - uh."
"Doesn't seem fair if you're black." says Ralph.
"Not directly for slavery. For discrimination and for failures of respect and failures to listen." says Dr. Smith. "That can take different forms in different people."
"What about YOU?" says Dr. Stibble, "And Dr. Mica? What about the dog that had the arm? The ambulance crew? And he was walking around bars for a day or so after the arm detached. At least, he doesn't remember."
"Dr. Mica was here for a very short time. I will tell him what to watch for. I think the ambulance crew would have noticed by now and it is not just exposure, it is also intention. Not that you intend to harm, but that you intend to remove the need for repair with the tribe."
Dr. Span's eyebrows rise. "I think they win."
"Br'er Rabbit," mutters Dr. Stibble, sounding annoyed.
Ralph laughs and cuts it off. "Sorry. I mean, sorry to bring trouble. I WAS warned that killing springhare would bring trouble."
"Did they say what?" says Dr. Span.
"Loss."
"Uh-huh. I think I'll comply with the treatment." says Dr. Span. "And write about it when I retire."
"Can I go home soon?" says Ralph. "I gotta figure out what to sell."
"I'll have a talisman for the team tomorrow. Mr. Jaunds, yours might take a couple days."
"Rats." says Ralph.
"Related," says Dr. Smith. And the team files out.
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http://www.mythencyclopedia.com/A-Am/African-Mythology.html
https://teachersinstitute.yale.edu/curriculum/units/files/98.02.04.pdf