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and my suture kit from the cabinet, please.”
    Julio hurried over to the supply cabinet. He opened up the cabinet and pulled out the small brown bottle of peroxide. He had to rummage around for the alcohol wipes, but the suture kit was tucked neatly in the top drawer next to a large bottle of ipecac syrup. He scooped up the suture kit and peroxide and rounded the desk.
    He approached the examination table and could see Doctor Barilla inspecting the wound. The side of the girl’s left foot had a large ragged gash near the heel, but the bleeding had stopped. He set the supplies on the end of the table and passed behind the doctor.
    Julio smiled at the girl to reassure her. Her long dark hair fell in clumps across the head of the table. Her eyes sat like two large milky gems against a chocolate background and her tears had left dirty tracks on her brown cheeks. She smiled back without showing her teeth.
    “Come here, Julio. I want you to see this,” said Doctor Barilla. Julio slid around the doctor so he could see. “Notice the ragged edge of this cut? See how deep it is? The only way it will heal properly is if we sew it up. Go scrub your hands so you can help while I irrigate the wound.”
    Julio hurried to the bathroom and scrubbed his hands twice before returning to the examination table. He loved it when he was allowed to help. He hoped to be a doctor himself one day.
    Doctor Barilla was cleaning the gash with peroxide when Julio got back. “With a deep wound like this, we have to irrigate it to ensure that there isn’t any debris left in the wound.” The girl let out a whimper, and the mother reassured her with a calm voice. Doctor Barilla continued to focus on the wound. “Okay, Julio, open up a couple of those alcohol wipes and clean her foot around the cut.” He looked at the girl and said, “This is going to sting a bit.”
    Julio tore open one of the wipes and began to clean around the wound as instructed. The girl jerked her foot when the alcohol touched the wound, but Doctor Barilla held it still so Julio could finish.
    “Julio, it looks like we will need the lidocaine from the refrigerator and a clean syringe, please,” said Doctor Barilla. Julio rounded the desk again and pulled open the small refrigerator door. A large, half-empty bottle of vodka sat in the middle of the shelf. Pushing it aside, he began reading the labels of the various glass medicine bottles until he found the lidocaine. With the bottle in hand, he searched the second drawer of the supply cabinet and extracted what appeared to be a clean syringe. He used a cotton ball and rubbing alcohol to wipe it down.
    As Julio approached the table with the bottle and syringe, the girl began to cry. “Don’t worry,” said Julio. “The wound that heals doesn’t hurt.” He glanced up at the mother. “That’s what my mamá used to say to me.”
    Doctor Barilla drew the lidocaine from the bottle with the syringe and then offered it to Julio. “Okay, Julio, I’ll hold her foot down while you inject the lidocaine into the wound just like I’ve shown you before.”
    Julio’s hand was shaking. The last time he had helped this much, the patient had been a drunk and barely conscious. It felt different helping with a little girl that was wide awake. He took several deep breaths to calm himself before he poked the needle into her foot.
    “That’s it,” said Doctor Barilla. “Inject the wound from both sides.”
    The girl cried out at the first injection, but her mother kept her calm. Julio emptied the syringe and let out a satisfied sigh.
    “Okay, Julio. Switch places with me,” said Doctor Barilla.
    Julio set the syringe on the table and swapped places with the doctor. He glanced over at the girl and smiled before turning his attention to the doctor’s demonstration.
    “You shouldn’t feel much from now on, maybe some tugging and pulling,” said Doctor Barilla as he prepared the suture thread. “Julio,” he whispered, “turn so you