Ecuador

Chapter 2

Chapter 2MATEO AND LUIZ WERE nearly finished with the second freezer. It had taken them the better part of four hours. Mateo knew that, at this rate, they would not finish in time for him to leave. He estimated it would take until the end of next week. He started to move at a faster pace, which did not accomplish much. Mateo became exasperated when Luiz typed too slowly, and he had to wait.

In Mateo’s haste, he dropped a sample. Luckily the Styrofoam container cushioned the fragile glass. Luiz scowled. ‘Calm down and pay attention. Most of these are probably harmless, but don’t be careless. Some might kill you.’

Mateo ignored the lecture. ‘I will have to continue this weekend to have any chance of my family leave. Could you please help me a little?’

‘Sorry, my friend, but not a chance. Maybe you can ask Anibal or Fausto? It has to be someone from the lab. You can’t bring just anyone down here. It’s lunchtime. Let’s go.’ And he started up the steps.

Mateo frowned and reluctantly followed him. His mind kept going over and over how to get this job done. He was not finding any solutions. He had been given a week off starting Wednesday, but with the condition that they finish the inventory first.

They were sitting outside on a bench eating the lunches they had brought with them. ‘I don’t see any way to get this done except to work this weekend. I’ll find someone to help me, but I need you to leave me with the computer.’

Luiz was getting tired of hearing about Mateo’s problem. ‘Okay, enough! You can use it this weekend, but it better be in perfect shape on Monday. And you can’t miss any samples. If Doctor Santos finds out that we missed any, we’ll be out of a job. And spell them correctly. If I say okay for you to work this weekend, don’t let me down?’

‘Gracias. Muchas gracias.’

‘When are you going to learn some Portuguese? Obrigado. Muito obrigado.’

‘Muito, muito obrigado.’

‘Let’s go back. I want to leave early,’ said Luiz.

Mateo rolled his eyes. That’s it, then. I’ll keep working tonight, too, he thought. I have to get ahead of this. I want to go home and to the wedding party.

Mateo worked until just after midnight and managed to get almost to the end of the third freezer. He was bored, his mind was taking flights of fancy, and he started thinking about just chucking some samples out. He couldn’t. Both his cultural indoctrination and upbringing to do the right thing mixed with the thought of doing something which, if he were caught, he would have to pay a penalty. I like my job. Mierda. I need it. If I can get to the fifth freezer this weekend, then we can finish by Tuesday.

The next morning, Mateo pulled himself out of bed and walked to work, stopping for a shot of espresso at the Jacaré Café on the way. It was the only place where he could get an espresso that compared to that of his home city of Bogotá. The proprietor knew what he liked and knew his distaste for the sweet cafezinho that Brazilians seemed to like.

Mateo walked along the tree lined Rua Vincente de Sousa as he neared the hospital, then turned right onto Rua Bambina. The beach was not far away. If only he could spend the day there, instead of in the basement dungeon. Just thinking about what ghosts might be lurking made him shudder.

By lunchtime, he had efficiently finished the third freezer and was partway through the fourth when he decided to take a break. He had only purchased a Guarana soda at the Jacaré Café. Now I wish I had bought a lunch, he mused. Earlier, he had thought missing lunch would help him finish earlier, and at the same time diminish his midsection. Now that he was hungry, he regretted it, even though his mind kept telling him to lose his belly for the wedding. The thought of the girls that would be there finally took his mind off his hunger.

The soda was cool and one of the few things he had learned to like in Brazil. The freezers were good for something—keeping his liquid lunch cold. He sat on the stone steps with the freezers spread before him. He felt he was making good progress, but this freezer was full, and many of the containers were small wire racks holding multiple glass tubes. It would take him many more hours.

He got up and walked to the fifth freezer to see whether it was packed with small or larger containers: all small, just like the one he was working on. Mierda. Not good at all, he thought. Still, if I keep working fast, we will be done on Tuesday.

He returned, removing several small boxes and racks and setting them on the table. The small containers and the individual vials were slowing him down, and he struggled with the long and unfamiliar names: Filoviridae unk, Marburg Marburgvirus (MARV), Staphylococcus aureus, Ebola bundibugyo, Variola major, Rotavirus A, Rotavirus B, Clostridium difficile. He was happy whenever an easy name came along such as India 1. He entered them on the laptop computer, over and over, out of the freezer, letter by letter adding the names into the computer, moving them back to the preceding freezer, getting new boxes and vials, adding them to the computer, and repeating the whole process, hour after hour.

Bored and impatient, he was having a hard time focusing. His thoughts elsewhere, Mateo grabbed an armful of containers and vials. Several fell from his arms to the floor, but only one broke. ‘Mierda. No, no, puta madre.’ No one would miss one vial, would they? They hadn’t been looked at for many years, he reasoned. ‘Mierda, mierda, mierda.’ Mateo took out his handkerchief to protect his fingers from the broken glass, and carefully picked up the pieces. He put them into an empty box, wiped up a tiny drop of goo, and shook the handkerchief. He inspected it and, not seeing any pieces of glass, he returned it to his pocket.

He would have to think about what to do with the broken pieces. One small vial out of hundreds couldn’t possibly be missed. He started to feel less guilty. The episode meant two things: there was one less stupid vial to write down, and he was jarred out of his malaise. He was ready to get to the job.

The day continued. He was starting the fifth freezer when his resolve let him down. ‘I can’t do this anymore,’ he mumbled to the freezers. He looked at the small box containing the broken vile and put it in his pocket. He walked up the stairs, replaced the steel bar and the old lock, and then headed toward his studio apartment, knowing tomorrow would be just as boring as today. But I am a lot closer to getting out of here in time for my flight home.

As he walked up the Rua Bambina, he saw a refuse container. He looked around and— no one was watching—lifted the lid and threw in the small container with the broken pieces of glass. He wondered if the sample had been valuable. I should be throwing many more out, he thought, but he knew he wouldn’t. He was not that kind of person. His mother and the church had raised him to follow rules.

Mateo continued walking down the Rua Bambina. He looked back as he turned the corner toward home. He didn’t see anyone. Perhaps Monday he and Luiz could finish, and he would be on his way.

Only seconds after he turned the corner, a man emerged from the shadowed alley and went to see what the passerby had thrown into the refuse barrel. He reached in and rummaged around, hoping to find some food. He pulled out a small container. It was too lightweight to hold much food. Maybe some cake crumbs. He opened it and put his fingers inside. He felt broken glass and then something gooey. He touched it to his tongue and then spit. His hope of finding an easy dinner dashed, he sighed and set out down the Rua.