Number Forty-Seven

Carla had cut her hand washing the dishes. It wasn't deep, but it kept bleeding, so she went to the clinic. The receptionist asked for her insurance card and gave her a number. Forty-seven.

Carla alikuwa amejikata mkono wakati wa kuosha vyombo. Jeraha halikuwa la kina, lakini liliendelea kutoka damu, hivyo alikwenda kliniki. Karani alimwomba kadi yake ya bima na akampa nambari. Arobaini na saba.

The screen above the door said "Now serving: 31." The waiting room was full. A man was reading the same page of a magazine for ten minutes. A young father was holding a sleeping baby. A teenager was staring at his phone.

Kifungo cha juu ya mlango kilisema "Sasa tunahudumia: 31." Chumba cha kusubiri kilijaa watu. Mwanaume mmoja alikuwa akisoma ukurasa mmoja wa jarida kwa dakika kumi. Baba mchanga alikuwa akimbeba mtoto aliyesinzia. Kijana mmoja alikuwa akiangalia simu yake.

Carla sat down and watched the numbers change. 32. 33. 36. The numbers did not move in order. She wondered if she had been forgotten.

Carla aliketi na kuangalia nambari zikibadilika. 32. 33. 36. Nambari hazikuwa zikienda kwa mpangilio. Alijiuliza kama amesahaulika.

After an hour, the screen finally showed 47. She walked through the door to the small office. The doctor looked at her hand for two minutes. "It's nothing," he said. "Clean it twice a day. No stitches."

Baada ya saa moja, kifungo mwishowe kilionyesha 47. Alipita mlangoni kwenda ofisi ndogo. Daktari aliangalia mkono wake kwa dakika mbili. "Si kitu," alisema. "Usafishe mara mbili kwa siku. Hakuna haja ya kushona."

When she left, the waiting room was almost empty. The teenager was gone. The baby was awake. The man had finally turned the page.

Alipotoka, chumba cha kusubiri kilikuwa kimekaribia kuwa tupu. Yule kijana alikuwa ameondoka. Mtoto alikuwa ameamka. Yule mwanaume hatimaye alikuwa amegeuza ukurasa.