A week later:

"Are you sure?"
The director uncertain of my decision.
"Yes pretty sure. It kinda was made before i was sure." I answered assertively.
"Then there is nothing left for me to do. I will make the arrangements." The director said gladly, chipper than ever. What made him this happy? That i wanted to go?

As I stared from the window i recalled the conversation that took place a few days ago. Seems like a decade ago.
All I knew I was on my way to Lesotho, to a growing understaffed UN supported promising clinic, and had no idea who was to interview me. My credentials spoke for me, yet I was apprehensive about whoever ran the place. There were three partners, but they chose to remain anonymous for 'security reasons'. What a load of crap!

I was carrying my bags looking for some semblance of where to go, then I saw one man, in the middle of the airport, and carrying a cardboard with my name.

"Good afternoon Doctor. I wanted to personally collect you from the airport."

The man said. He was about my age. A bit taller than I am. His looks seemed foreign, and his accent accentuated that fact.

"My name is Carlos. One of the three partners. Also I am a doctor attending at the clinic." He said as he extended his hand.

I took it and shook it with the same tempo as his, "pleased to meet you. Why though the secrecy? I asked who was to interview me and you guys decided to refrain from giving names."

"Oh my other partner will do the interview. Don't worry Jessica is more than capable. I also have a feeling you will be quite fond of her. Professionally I mean." He answered. "As for privacy, you have to understand its for security reasons." And no further elaboration.

What security?

He loaded my bags in his van. One bag was I got with me. Duvet bag.
Carlos is a chatter box, never shutting up. I didn't mind it actually, but lately I have been temperamental and quite easily aggravated, yet since he is a future employer (hardly), I had to endure. He spoke of many things, his partners, their estate which he also spoke of expressively, how they started this project attributing the partner that is supposed to interview me; Jessica.
She sounds wonderful, with a cloud of vagueness surrounding her. It was a dream of hers-he said- that this was what she always wanted to do; help areas with no appropriate medical care.
That is quite a nobel cause. Africa is so deprived of the right medical care that the state of its countries is deteriorating. It lacked certain luxuries also. It's elevating to know that a young woman, a group of young people, are devoting their time-their life- for such a worthy cause.

"We are at out estate good doctor. It was a plantation previously. For what who the hell knows." He chuckled at his own humor, "come and settle in before I take you to the interview."

I followed Carlos to the second floor to the second room left to the stairs, "right there", pointing to the room ahead of me,"is Jessica's room, mine further ahead."
I shrugged and entered my future room.
It was neat. The wood was chipped, at the window and the door, that is understandable considering how old this place must be. The bed was made, the room had an earthy scent yet also a hint of something...floral.

"The smell?" I asked.

"Oh yes" he went towards the window," look good doctor, both my partners are females, and females have this nurturing quality. So they started the garden."
I looked down toward a wonderful, humble garden.

"They can't grow all kinds of greens and flowers due to the soil. Still...you know women."

I nodded in approval. Women are uncanny creatures indeed.

An hour later, I collected my credentials, packed my things, and joined Carlos in the van. The interview.

"We are here" he announced.

The clinic was like the garden, humble promising but needed work.
They were organized to say the least. Everything was documented and recorded. Their inventory is sufficient but lacked material. Drugs were safely stored and organized as well.

"What did Jessica do? For a living I mean." I asked.

"She was a pharmacist." He sounded hesitant to give away such information.

"What about your second partner?" I asked as Carlos continued to sign, and view a few charts.

"Carline was a lawyer, but now a pregnant housewife", he chuckled again,"we suffer from women, and there we were with a pregnant one!"
He laughed again. "Her husband contributed to our funding, and also paid-a huge part-for the house."

"That was generous."

"That's Vincent. He worships the ground she walks on."

"God bless." Was all I replied. "And where is she?"

"Getting her papers together to leave. Temporarily. To France to give birth. French stubborn husband, such pride in their nationality." He swatted his hand in the air dismissing whatever.

After he was done working and showing me around the place, "it's time I show you to Jessica's office."

I followed him to an office at the end of the corridor facing the reception.

He opened the door and gestured, "she will be with you shortly." I nodded and entered the room. The office was small but tidy. There were family photos on the desk but I didn't pry and look. I sat in my seat. I fixed my attire And waited. And waited.

A couple of minutes later, the door opened and I swore my subconscious was playing with my head, "Kalon what do you mean? FINE I'll cook tonight you jerk!" And that ominous giggle.
I felt the blood leaving my head, this isn't happening. THIS. ISN'T. HAPPENING.

I turned around carefully praying to whatever higher force there is that I might not meet those grey eyes.

"Zen?" Her voice a whisper.
She rubbed her eyes in disbelief.
I even rubbed mine. This can't be happening. This isn't her.

"Excuse me Jessica...I...I", I started stuttering.

"Who's Jessica?" Baffled, "It's me Jillian" she said. With that smile that I missed so terribly. My heart constricted and a lump resided in my throat.
I don't think there is a breath left in me.

I am lost again. I guess I was never even found in the first place.

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