"Minessi, listen." I hold Yao's mouth close to her ear. His breathing is raspy and labored. She listens for a moment, then looks at me, confused.

I imitate the breathing, exaggerating it for effect. She gives me a long, wary look, then shrugs. I let the subject drop, but not before kissing Yao's silky forehead and whispering in his ear that he's trying to scare me, and he should cut it out right away.

Two days later as Minessi takes her daily stroll past the construction site, she stops and gestures to me. I set down the short pile of cement blocks I am precariously balancing on my head and skip over. She looks at me for a moment with an anxious, indecisive expression, then whispers in my ear that she would like some money to buy medicine for Yao. Could I bring some to her house tonight?

Sure, I tell her, how much does she need?

But she doesn't want to talk about it now, in front of everyone. We can talk about it later. She hurries away before I've had a chance to kiss Yao.

When I come to her house that afternoon she is not pounding or washing or sweeping, but sitting with Yao in her lap, waiting for me. Amoah sees me approach and calls out "Sistah Korkor!" as usual. When she hears this, Minessi springs up and drags a stool out of her hut for me to sit on. She then disappears again and returns with a plate of fufu and some pepper sauce. She hands me the plate and gestures that I should eat. Yao reaches out his arms to me and gurgles in his throat like a dove. After I've eaten, I heave him into my lap. He looks up with a smile of purest delight, then sticks his fingers in my mouth and coughs. Minessi stands watching, not saying a word.

"Minessi?" I say at last. "You wanted some money for medicine?"

She glances over at Amoah, who is playing with his children and seems not to hear.

"Yes," she says softly.

"How much do you need?" I ask.

Silence.

"Please tell me, Minessi. I want to help."

"Please, you give 1,000 cedis," she blurts, all in a rush.

I look at her for a moment in astonishment.

"That's fine, Minessi. No problem at all."

A surprising sting of tears rises in my eyes. Less than $2 stand between my darling and his medicine. I reach beneath the waistband of my cotton skirt for my money belt and pull out a small sweaty wad. Minessi stares as I peel off two 500 cedi notes, then watches my hands as I replace the rest. She drops her eyes.

"Thank you," she says, not looking up.

We have shoveled and carried and mortared and pressed and nothing is done and already our three-week stint in Afranguah is up. Materials are being left behind to complete the buildings we began. The village minister, a Ghanaian man named Billy Acquah Graham, promises it will be finished in our absence. I go to Minessi's hut to say goodbye. Yao's breathing is no better. It scrapes and croaks. I ask Minessi whether she got the medicine, and she nods. I tell Yao to get with the program and shape up. I hug him and Minessi and Amoah and Amoah's three children. Everyone squirms and laughs uncomfortably in my embrace. I tell them I'll be back to see them after my next project.

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