THE BARTER SYSTEM
QOS CHALLENGE #1

Rose, Don Quixote, jar of pickles.

~~~~~

Helm walked out of his office and looked up at the vibrant sky. He stretched to loosen the tightness in his shoulders from being hunched over patients all day. He went back into his office, then into his private quarters and grabbed the leather bound book that was on the night stand.

Across the square from his office, he sat at a table in the outdoor cantina. As soon as he sat at a table, a waitress came to take his order. "Just a nice glass of white wine, please," he told her.

He pushed the single rose in a vase at the center of the table back and set the novel, Don Quixote, before him. He opened it to the ear-marked page that he had last read from the book the evening before. Quixote and Sancho Panza were in the midst of an argument about windmills. Helm tried to find the paragraph that he last remembered reading.

The waitress set the wine glass on the table and smiled to him when he looked up. "Is there anything else I could get you, Doctor?"

"Not right now," he easily said, then she left him alone with the book.

A peasant woman carrying a filled basket walked by and noticed the doctor at the table. "Doctor Helm!" Her shout made Helm snap his head up to wonder who was hurt and what he would need to do. He saw the woman lugging the heavy basket rush to his table at the edge of the porch. "Doctor Helm," she said, almost out of breath. "You are such a miracle worker. Thank you again for saving my dear Javier's life. I don't know how we can ever pay you for your kindness."

Helm took her hand when she offered it and smoothly said, "I didn't save his life. I just set his broken leg and I was proud to do it. How is Javier doing?"

"He's running around and playing as if he hadn't broke his leg last summer. Thank you so much!"

Helm saw the tears in her eyes, and remembered the worried look on her face when she and her husband brought their son to his office after the boy had fallen from a moving wagon. "I'm glad he's all right. That's all the thanks I need."

"No, no, Senor," she said, shaking her head. She set the basket on the ground and rummaged through it. "These are things I was bringing to a friend, Rosa. I'm sure she wouldn't mind...," she said as she pulled out a jar. "If I give you this as payment for your work." She thrust the jar of pickles into his hand, "Please, take it."

Helm did enjoy the manner in which people paid their medical bills. He'd receive an invitation for a home-cooked meal. A woman would show up to clean the office because he had bandaged her husband. Montoya would grunt. One day, Helm opened his office door to find a goat tied to the doorknob. Now pickles. He smiled, "Thank you, Senora Flores. I'm sure I will enjoy them."

THE END

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