Shape of the Sun

In the line of duty

The girl shrunk into a corner of the hospital room, cowering in fear at all the strange adult faces hovering above her. They kept trying to get closer, or give her food, or do things. But that was the thing. She didn't want anything from anyone. There was no need to take things, she had learned the hard way. Afterall, that had been the way that he had gotten to her.

And it was this girl that was Rajkumar's newest patient. She had been brought into the hospital by the police last night, found unconscious on a park bench, all her files still piled up on his desk. Haa. There was a lot of work to be done here, he realized upon seeing her actions toward the others in the room.

Rajkumar scanned the notepad in his hands. It was where he usually jotted file observations.

"She has no name?" His question was directed at the social worker brought in for her, an Afro-Carribean Britisher woman.

"Yes, doctor. There are no records of her in any of the local hospitals or the others in the country."

"Any possibility of trafficking?" That had only become less rampant in the past four years, with all the new legislation. It was a valid question, he believed.

"The police is still on that right now, doctor." There was a trace of blame in her voice as if condemning Rajkumar for asking about such sensitive issues in front of the patient, but he didn't really care enough. He was doing his job and he didn't appreciate anyone sticking their nose in. Luckily, she didn't voice it out which saved her from being escorted out of the room and taken off the case. Everybody was well aware that while the doctor was the best in this field, he wasn't very tolerant of anyone he deemed too unprofessional.

That didn't mean she still didn't annoy him a bit. Hell, her tone irritated the shit out of him. But Rajkumar believed that he had a measure. He tucked the jotter in his white-coat pocket and adjusted his glasses, before getting up from his chair. That was a cue for the accompanying nurses to inform the social work and police personnel to move out of the way, but his actions only made the girl shrink further, like she wanted the wall to swallow her, even though he was a reasonable distance from her.

Male adult. Small space within easy reach. Rajkumar mentally noted these things from her reaction to him just standing up, but that didn't stop him from outwardly acting further on them. His next move surprised everyone in the room. Of course, they couldn't understand why the doctor suddenly went low on the floor, gently placed his pen on it, and faced his now empty palms towards the girl as if to assure her that he was unarmed. But Rajkumar wouldn't tell them that he noticed that her eyes were fixated on the pen. The government paid him, not them.

There was new information added up. Male adult. Small space within easy reach. Scared but familiar enough to be curious about pens. Rajkumar had seen that hesitant longing in her eyes. So her abuser likely held it much. Probably student? Or professor? To show authority? Or was the room itself a study? Those were the questions for the police, not him. But every day as an abuse pediatrician reminded Rajkumar that to some extent he did their job. And many times, he had to add up that of a parent.

His voice was warm and gentle.

"Hey, it is okay. I won't hurt you."

But her increased tremors made him speedily backtrack. He'd miscalculated, which was normal in this line of work. Her abuser used that kind of honeyed tone. Probably had kids or worked with them? Or was some sort of voice actor or customer representative? All these were added up in his head, but Rajkumar still kept working.

His voice was now calm, having the steely edge of a professional. It seemed more paramount to establish credibility than trust. And Rajkumar didn't think he needed to explain to anyone his work ethic, but many years of doing this had established to him that those words meant two very different things. So.