Children of the Street - [20]

Asem inclined his head left to right as he considered the question. “Might be a little bit. On the other hand, maybe his sodium balance is just off. You have to be really careful with that salt.”

“We will,” Dawson promised.

“Is surgery on the horizon?” Asem asked.

“As soon as we find a way to pay for it.”

“I pray that it will be soon. Remember that if Hosiah ever develops the complication of pulmonary hypertension, it’s too late for surgery.”

Dawson bit his bottom lip. The warning was harsh but true.

“Thank you for your help, Dr. Asem.”

There were twenty-eight beds in total on the general medical ward, infants on one side of the floor, children on the other. Dawson, Christine, and Hosiah were all too familiar with the large, common room shared by all the patients. That was the way it had been for a long time at Korle Bu, and with the exception of a new private wing for people with a lot of money, that was the way it would be for some time to come.

As the diuretic began to take effect, Christine and Dawson helped Hosiah with the urinal just as other parents did their own children.

Night came. By 2:00 A.M., Hosiah had settled down, sleeping without much trouble. His pulse oximetry reading was up to 95 percent. Christine had been dozing off and on with her head resting on the edge of the bed. Dawson allowed his eyes to drift closed for short periods, but he was still on constant watch over his son.

“Christine,” he whispered. “Why not go home and get a few hours? He seems to be doing fine.”

She rubbed her eyes. “You’ll be okay?”

“Yes, we’ll be fine. Are you going to work tomorrow?”

“I’ll go in for half a day. Hopefully he can come home in the afternoon.”

“He should be able to.”

She nodded and stood up. “Okay. But call me if… you know, if anything comes up.”

“Of course.”

She kissed him on the cheek and softly kissed Hosiah as well, and then she was gone.

Part Two

12

Friday morning, Detective Sergeant Chikata was enjoying being “in charge” while Dawson was temporarily away. He went up to his uncle’s air-conditioned office to spend some time with him. Chief Supol Theophilus Lartey was a small man with large aspirations and good connections. He was undoubtedly on his way up to deputy commissioner of police, and ultimately commissioner.

In turn, Chikata was eyeing inspector rank, where Dawson was now. As he chatted with his uncle, Chikata asked him about the prospects for promotion.

“I also want to see you move up, Philip,” Lartey reassured him. “Very much so. One thing you have to remember, however, is that, although I have influence, I’m not the only one who has a say in your promotion. You understand me?”

“Yes, Uncle.”

Lartey put his fingertips together, making a steeple. “What senior officers my rank and higher are looking for in a junior officer is exemplary”-he emphasized each syllable-“performance, something I can turn to them and say, Look how well this young chap is doing. This is someone we need to push up the ladder. You see?”

Chikata nodded. “Yes, Uncle.”

“Now,” Lartey continued, “you are doing well, but let’s see you standing out, excelling above the average officer. I think you get what I’m trying to say, not so?”

“Yes, Uncle. I understand what you mean.”

“What’s new on the lagoon case?” Lartey asked.

“We have one possible lead.”

Chikata told his uncle about Daramani. “Dawson went to Nima on Wednesday to find him, but he wasn’t there. If Dawson comes back this afternoon, then maybe we can go to Nima again.”

“You didn’t accompany Dawson to Nima on Wednesday?” Uncle Theo asked with a frown. “Why not?”

“That’s the same question I asked him. He told me to stay behind and do paperwork, but I didn’t understand why. We always have paperwork.”

Lartey shook his head. “Dawson can be a little strange at times. But here is an example of where you could have shown your initiative. You knew Dawson was going to be away yesterday afternoon and you knew he wasn’t able to find this fellow Daramani on Wednesday. So why not say to Inspector Dawson, ‘Please, in your absence, let me go again to Nima to look for the man?’ Do you see how that creates a good image for you?”

“Yes, Uncle, I do see that.”

Lartey smiled at him. “Good man. I think everything is going to go well.” He looked at his watch. “Shall we go to lunch?”

Hosiah had responded well to the treatment at Korle Bu, and by midmorning, after the doctors’ teaching rounds, he was ready for discharge. Gladly, Dawson took his son home. Christine would be back from school by noon or so.

Hospitals were exhausting. Dawson and Hosiah fell asleep together on the sofa. Only Dawson opened his eyes when Christine came in.

“How is he?” she whispered.

“Much better,” Dawson said. “Just tired.”

He gently repositioned Hosiah on the sofa by himself and got up.

“You must be tired too,” Christine said. “Are you going into work?”

“No, I’m calling it a day.”

“Do you want some lunch? I bought something from Awo’s.”

“Oh, perfect.”

Awo’s Tilapia Joint, directly across the street, was a favorite of theirs. It made Dawson think of his tilapia promise to Jason Allotey in the DNA lab. Hopefully, he was making progress with Musa’s tooth.