Boneca [Doll]

Chapter 11: Mood

The day kicked off early, and Jona found himself wrestling with a bad mood. As everyone in the village got their assignments, he was left grappling with his own sense of tedium.

"Hey, Jona," Aarón's voice called him over, beckoning him towards the hut where he was lacing up his boots.

"We're heading out?" Jona asked.

Plans had shifted. The FUNAI representatives were caught up in a situation at a nearby village, so the group was adapting and heading to the camp instead to handle the necessary paperwork for the site study.

"Change of plans," Aarón confirmed, rising to his feet. "I'll be going with Michael to meet the FUNAI folks. I need you to stay here and keep an eye on Alicia and Zack. They're setting up the satellite dish over at the logistics tent they set up yesterday."

The explanation felt like a flimsy excuse to Jona. He hardly considered himself an expert on technology; he only discovered Insta Stories existed last year! The real reason, he suspected, was Jona's sore thigh that required a massage from Dr. John this morning.

Aarón offered a weak smile. "You had cramps earlier, querida. It's best to take it easy. We'll kick off the survey next week when I've got a better feel for the lay of the land."

So there he was, an hour later, still in the village, immersed in a book. Growing tired of the thriller fiction, he closed the book and placed it back in his rucksack. "This is ridiculous," he muttered under his breath, finally motivated to keep an eye on Alicia.

"What's bothering you?" Dr. John entered the hut, ducking beneath the canvas 'door' and securing it to let in some sunlight.

A blush crept onto Jona's cheeks. "Oh, nothing."

The doctor studied him with his deep black eyes. Just as tall as Aarón at six-foot-three, he made Jona feel like he was using medical instruments to pry into his thoughts. Standing by the entrance, Jona debated whether to ask Dr. John if he could accompany Aarón tomorrow. He hadn't brought up the topic yet, but the doctor seemed to read his mind. "Scouting the forest isn't a leisurely stroll. You know that, right? You shouldn't push yourself. Wait until they return with clear terrain information."

"But when will I get back to normal? It's been nearly six months, and I'm still relying on painkillers."

Dr. John motioned to the chair opposite him as he took a seat. "Da Graça, you were allowed on this expedition because you've made about ninety percent recovery. We agreed to treat this journey as part of your outdoor therapy. However, it's only feasible because you've always been active. You need to grasp the challenges that come with it. While I'm here to guide you, you also need to be aware of your injuries and your limitations."

The weight of his injuries settled on Jona's mind. He had broken his hip and tibia in multiple places, and the memory of the subsequent surgeries left a mark on his soul. The scar that ran down his leg was a permanent reminder of that traumatic time. It was a reminder of his brush with death. He could vividly recall the moment he was rushed into the emergency room, his father holding his hand and crying. Strangely, instead of hoping to survive, he had prayed for an end to his life. At least then, he thought, he'd be reunited with his mother in Heaven. But once again, God had chosen not to grant his wish...

Dr. John continued to discuss his pain management, highlighting the dangers of opioid medications, something Jona deeply dreaded. Taking those pills felt like ingesting a piece of his painful past. He requested a change, and Dr. John assured him he had already consulted Dr. Chen, the expedition's psychiatrist, who offered alternatives. The pressure in the back of Jona's mind seemed to loosen.