“Your uncle said you’re visiting from the United States. Did you have any immunization before you came?”

“Just smallpox.”

“I think the best thing to do is to take you to the hospital right now and give you some tests. I’ll drive you over.”

“You’re taking her to the hospital?” my mother asked.

“She’s had this pain for a while now.” He thought for a moment. “It could be any number of things—a virus, or from her heart—although that’s only a remote possibility.”

“I’ll come with you,” my mother said.

“No, no, that’s not a good idea at this hour. You can come and see her tomorrow. Don’t worry, we’ll take care of her,” Dr. Majid said, and turned to me. “I’ll wait outside for you. Take what you need for two, three days. We may have to give you a number of tests.”

“That long?” my mother protested. “She just got here and you’re taking her to the hospital.”

He smiled and then said, “I’m doing what I can.”

In the car I lay my head back and looked at the streets through half-closed eyes. The electricity was turned off after a certain hour and moonlight shone over men or families sleeping on sidewalks or cats sniffing at garbage. Insects screeched.

I must send a telegram to Tony immediately, I thought. But the thought gave me little consolation.

I sat up and tried to distract myself by talking to Dr. Majid. “How long have you been practicing here? My mother said you went to school in the United States.”

“I’ve been here for six years now. But you’re only visiting, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I said. “I hadn’t seen my mother since I was a child. I came to visit my father, then found out about her.”

He turned and looked at me with curiosity. I gave him a brief account of my mother’s disappearance when I was a child. He listened intently. His curiosity and attentiveness made me like him and be less afraid of going to the hospital. It had been nice of him to come to see me in the middle of the night and then drive me over.

“Where in the United States do you live?” he asked.

“In Lexington right now, but we’re thinking of moving back to Cambridge or Boston.”

“Lexington is a real suburb, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” I said. “Where did you live?”

“Mostly in Ann Arbor. That’s where I got my degree. Then I practiced a while in New York and Boston actually.”

“Lucky to find someone like you here. To tell you the truth I was afraid of what kind of a doctor I’d get.”

“I don’t blame you.”

“Do you live here with your family?”

“I’m not married.”

“I meant with your parents.” I found myself blushing.

“No, I have a little house a few streets from the hospital. There’s a garden around it. A gardener comes in once a week and makes sure there are flowers all year.”

“It sounds lovely.”