broken like my spanish

healthcare system broken
broken, like my spanish
when Rigo comes into the herb shop
where i've come to visit a friend

mi esposa, he says
está enferma
he mimes a cough
no se puede dormir
always coughing

i am transfixed in my chair
listening intently

my friend, the herbalist, says, el doctor?
Rigo dice, she went twice
el doctor no le ayuda

first time, antibiótico, diez días,
still coughing
second time, cinco días
still coughing
it's hard to
respirar

breathe

they don't teach how to patch a
hopelessly broken healthcare system
in spanish 101

the cough, i say
seco? mojado?
Rigo says seco
y su pecha
mucha presión
to my friend, the herbalist, hay medicina?

she grabs a bottle off the shelf
a lung tonic
wild cherry bark
elecampane root
in honey
she gestures to the bottle
to me, is your spanish any better than mine?
no

to Rigo, tell your wife
una cucharra, wait diez, veinte minutos
una otra cucharra
she can take as much as she needs
until it helps
come back for more when she runs out

Rigo says, vas a recordar cual está?
yes, she says

quanto?
just take it, my friend says
if it works, you can buy the next bottle
he squeezes both of our shoulders
and says sincerely,
Feliz Año Nuevo
and leaves

leaves me to wonder
if this scene plays out
all across the country
if small communities are cobbling together
broken spanish
herbal remedies
knitting a safety net
that gently catches anyone
who falls through the cracks
of this badly broken system