“Insensitive.” She found it hard to process her friend’s words. If she had to describe herself in one word, that certainly wouldn’t have been it. She would have thought of cheerful or unshakable. This “insensitive” caught her by surprise. Especially coming from someone who knew her well. Someone who loved her. Did she really love her? She would never say something like that to a friend. Not to anyone, really. Irina looked into the mirror. For a moment, she stared at the somber young woman staring back at her. Normally, she was always smiling. And beautiful, too. But then her firend has punched in the gut with this word: insensitive. Sure, Olga continued, in a friendly way, saying that a doctor should be insensitive. And the fact that Irina’s already so detached at the start of her career is particularly commendable. According to Olga, a pediatrician has to protect their emotional well-being even more. In general, her friend meant it as a pat on the back, but it completely ruined her mood for the upcoming trip. Her first real, grown-up vacation.
Irina didn’t travel. She always had a bad feeling about going hundreds or thousands of kilometers away. It wasn’t flying or highways that scared her, but the idea of being too far from the hospital made her uneasy. She was only willing to spend her time off within the country’s borders. Sunbathing on her balcony, reading, and listening to music was more than enough to relax and recharge. But now, she had no choice but to go. Her family had ganged up on her and booked her a ten-day vacation. Ten days! Irina was furious when she saw the travel agency’s brochure. Nearly two weeks away from the world, on a tiny island in the ocean. A place with only one pediatric clinic. She’d have to transfer flights twice to get there. According to Olga, this was wonderful. After calling her so-called friend insensitive, it wasn’t even surprising that Olga found a ten-day, middle-of-nowhere “vacation” delightful. Alone. How else? Ugh. She kicked her suitcase.
The travel agency employee was twirling a yellow umbrella in her hand with a palm-hanging, unnatural grin. Irina wished the ground would open up beneath her. She felt embarrassed to be stuck in the airport with the retirement club, as if she couldn’t manage a trip on her own. If she wanted to. Her fellow passengers were excitedly, shouting over each other, crowding around the umbrella-clad, muscular-armed (from all the spinning, no doubt), fifty-something, jet-blond, badger-haired woman. They were trying to impress each other with their experiences, although apparently, each was only interested in their own story. And what kind of free food they’d get on the plane. Ha. Good one. Free. Not that they needed it, as they each packed enough sandwiches and snacks to last them three weeks. Luckily for her, she was sitting by a window, so at least she didn’t have to worry about someone walking over her every ten minutes because they had to pee. It never occurred to Irina to go to the toilet on the plane.
From above, the island looked even smaller than it had in the brochure. Still, she had to admit, it was a charming sight — a lush, hilly patch of land in the middle of nowhere. Her initial reluctance slowly gave way to a pleasant excitement. The small plane was nearly empty except for the tour group members; only a few others were heading to this remote corner of the world. At least by plane. Supposedly, the ferry ran twice a day from the larger islands. But why would anyone come here? Pretty flowers, tall trees, and rocky shores can be found in a million other places. It wasn’t worth traveling this far. She had no idea how much it had cost, and she didn’t care. If they were so eager to exile her for two weeks to a distant point in the Atlantic Ocean, they could pay for it.
The warm, salty, ocean-scented air hit her in the face. She had to stop. She had to fill her lungs with it. She was the last to board the bus, unwilling to listen to the overly excited grandmother club’s squealing. She pulled out her phone and began a frantic search. She wouldn’t be able to endure the constant noise. She wanted silence and to be alone. The tour guide listened to Irina with a drawn-out, sour expression but didn’t dare argue. She stammered and kept calling her “doctor,” wringing her hands nervously. For some reason, she made two phone calls, as if it were anyone’s business what Irina wanted to do. Finally, they agreed to meet at the airport in ten days. Meanwhile, Irina would rent an apartment by the ocean at her own expense. If she had traveled this far, no one was going to tell her how to spend those ten days.
Irina walked past the house every day. Not by chance, but because her legs always took her that way. The little orange building, with its carved brown fence and neat, tiny flower garden, perched above the endless ocean, drew her like a magnet. The countless colorful flowers, the forests, and the fact that you could see the water from almost everywhere drove her wild. Besides, shouldn’t a small island like this deserve to have enough pediatricians? Irina had known, even when she made arrangements with the woman with the yellow umbrella, that she wouldn’t be at the airport in ten days. After all, it wouldn’t be right to refuse the help of the handsome man who ran the restaurant where Irina had lunch every day. He had so eagerly offered to introduce her to the German couple selling the empty orange house. At first, she had seriously considered it as an investment. But how could she allow strangers to live there? To wear it down? Not appreciate the breathtaking view? No way! It would be ridiculous to buy it just for someone else to enjoy. Javier agreed, saying it was a “fantastic little place.” That Javier was a funny guy. He was thrilled to learn that Irina was a pediatrician. According to him, there was a great need for someone like her on the island. Someone as exceptional, as he put it. So she’s not that insensitive after all?