Page 47 of Her Tempting Protector

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Thank God the red soccer jersey covered the tight tan pants he was wearing, otherwise it would look like he was advertising his junk. As it was, it was hard to walk in the damn things. So much for easy maneuverability, but it was more important to blend in with the crowd. Cullen meandered through the packed streets of Wad Gala. He was getting stares, besides the fact that he was wearing clothing that was like others in the village.

He ducked down one of the many little side alleys. First things first, he needed to find some saline for Shada, hot foot it back to the truck, and then he could get some fuel from the petrol station he’d seen.

Where the hell was a clinic?

Carys had told him what to look for. Mainly, it would be a line of women holding kids. And just how the hell was he going to talk his way to the front of the line and, talk someone out of at least two bags of saline?

First things first, find the clinic.

He had to squeeze his way out of the end of the alley and avoid stepping in a little stream of sewage. But, after Bubba and his green poop, it wasn’t so bad. Cullen looked right, left and forward as he moved out into the bright sun, everything looked normal. So, he was still caught off-guard by the three-and-a-half-foot high child who slapped his leg.

“Mister. I get you anything you want. You pay me.”

“How old are you?” Cullen frowned down at the kid, then looked around and saw people milling about. Nobody seemed to think anything was odd about him being accosted by this young entrepreneur.

“I’m six. You lost. I help. Need money up front.”

Cullen grinned. He liked this kid.

“How many piasters?”

“I want American dollars.” The kid held out his hand as his lower lip jutted out and his eyebrows lowered. Cullen bit his lip as he looked over the little man. He was going to be quite the little enforcer when he grew up.

“One Sudanese pound,” Cullen offered. “If I like your help when we’re done, two American dollars. But you’ve got to come through for me.”

Suddenly the kid was all smiles. “I can help.”

“What’s your name?”

“Mohammed.” He held out his hand again and Cullen went to shake it. “No, I want my money.”

Cullen laughed. “Of course, you do.”

Once again, he had some crumpled up bills hidden in his pockets, but this time it took some doing to dig them out of the tight pants. The kid watched the spectacle with interest. Cullen finally handed him his money.

“What you want? Beer?”

Cullen was impressed. Beer was pretty hard to come by, and a six-year-old knew how to procure it?

“No beer, I need to find the clinic.”

“You sex sick?”

“No.” The kid was unbelievable. “I don’t have a sexual disease. But I do need some medicine. Now where’s the clinic?”

“Follow me.” The kid started running. When Cullen just watched him, he stopped and turned around. “You slow. I want my money. Come quick.”

Cullen kept up despite his laughter. Wait until he told the guys about Mohammed.

He kept following the kid to the outskirts of town. Why hadn’t he realized that? Of course, the clinic wouldn’t be as accepted so it would be farther out, at least in one of the smaller towns like this one. And Carys had called it—there was a line of women and some old men coming out of the clinic. But that didn’t stop Mohammed from ducking past everyone, despite their protests.

“Come, come, you must hurry,” he said as he motioned for Cullen to follow him inside.

There were many women and children standing and sitting inside. Some of them looked very ill. “Come, come,” again the child motioned for him. Cullen shook his head. He’d had enough of pushing his way to the front of the line.

The boy rolled his eyes. He darted back behind a desk to a hallway, perfectly comfortable in the little clinic. Soon he came out with a woman who was holding his hand.