Gabriel arrives at his uncle’s house and discovers that everything is shrouded in darkness. He waits at the back door and tries to catch his breath, but his chest continues to heave. Gabriel imagines that his uncle is inside, but anything could have happened. As his breathing returns to normal, he places his head against the cold stone wall to calm himself down. The wall is pock-marked with bullet holes as though some giant bird has furiously pecked at the masonry in a desperate attempt to find a weak spot. Gabriel stands back upright and then he wraps his palm around the door handle and quietly turns it. He closes the door behind him and then, in the darkness, he reaches for the banister and edges forward until he can feel the first step of the wooden staircase. As he puts his full weight upon the stair, it fires off a volley of snapping sounds which causes his heart to leap. Gabriel hovers on this lowest stair and then decides to climb quickly, ignoring the sounds. He remains light on his feet, but he knows that people must be able to hear him. At the top of the stairs, he gropes his way towards the door in front of him, but he already understands that this door will be firmly barred.
“Joshua?” he whispers, but there is no answer. The cloying night heat is beginning to overpower Gabriel, and he can feel his head spinning. He calls again, “Joshua?”
And then, from behind the door, he hears Joshua’s whispered voice.
“Who is it?”
“Gabriel. I am here by myself.” There is a momentary pause, and then Joshua opens the door a few inches.
“Gabriel?” He opens the door a little more, and now Gabriel can clearly see his uncle’s face. He is a dark-skinned man in his late fifties, with a short-cropped mesh of grey hair. His uncle’s teeth are slightly too large for his mouth, and he has a tendency to lift a hand to his mouth before speaking. And, true to form, he lifts his hand. Joshua glances quickly all about himself and then whispers, “Come in, come in.”
As Gabriel squeezes past Joshua he can see that this small storage room at the top of his uncle’s warehouse has been transformed into an eerie chamber of light and shadow by small stubs of candle whose flames flicker in the fetid gloom. Scattered about the room are a dozen or so men who squat on the floor, some with their heads held in their hands, others with heads thrown back against the wall. In the corner there is a single bucket for bathing, and another, somewhat filthier, bucket for the men to relieve themselves in. Joshua closes the door behind his nephew and then turns to face him.
“Gabriel, why are you here?”
Gabriel looks at the older man, but the words will not come. He feels his lower lip begin to tremble, and then the pain of what he has just witnessed begins to rise through his body. Joshua places his hand on Gabriel’s shoulder and encourages him to sit. They both squat beside the door, and Joshua decides to wait a few moments until his nephew has regained his composure. Gabriel stares intently at the space between his feet, and as the silence deepens, Joshua realises that the situation is his to repair.
“Did they find your family?”
Gabriel looks up at Joshua.
“They were not hiding.”
“Gabriel, did they kill everybody?” Gabriel ignores the question, but he knows that through the gloom Joshua will be able to see that tears are now streaming down his face. “Gabriel, you must tell me. Did they kill everybody?” Gabriel shakes his head. “Your mother?” Gabriel shakes his head. “But everybody else, is that it?” Gabriel nods quickly. “And your mother, where is she?”
“At the house.” Gabriel wipes his tears with the back of his hand.
“Gabriel, what will you do? They say you massacred innocent women and children, and then ran away. You know they will keep looking for you.”
“I did nothing wrong, but I know I have to leave this country. If I stay here they will kill me.”
Joshua nods, and under his breath he speaks to himself. “You know, Gabriel, how can God ever forgive us for this shameful situation?” Gabriel looks at his uncle, who is temporarily lost in his own thoughts.
A few moments later Joshua climbs slowly to his feet. Gabriel watches him, and then he also stands. A weary Joshua takes his sister’s man-child by the shoulder and he gestures to the other men in the room. He speaks in a whisper.
“Blood is blood, Gabriel. I want nothing more than to take you in as family, but these men have all paid two thousand dollars to leave. They have sold everything that they have.”
“But I must leave,” protests Gabriel. “This is not my home any more.”
Joshua stares at his nephew, but he knows that words are all that Gabriel has to offer.
“Gabriel, if you can bring me two thousand dollars then you too will be leaving. But you have only a few hours. This is all that I can do for you.”
Gabriel looks at his uncle. He understands that Joshua is both accepting him and rejecting him at the same time. And then Gabriel glances at the other men in the room, all of whom are staring back at him. Gabriel averts his guilty eyes and concentrates on the dark water stains on the walls, where mould is growing and forming strange shapes and patterns. He knows that it will be impossible for him to travel with these men unless he does so on equal terms.
As Gabriel steps into the street he senses that dawn will soon break. The sky is still black, but buildings are beginning to recover an outline, and the noises of animals stirring and cocks crowing are a herald of what is to come. Gabriel walks quickly, but without fear, for he knows that the government soldiers prefer to operate under the cover of darkness. He passes a man who is wrapped in the national flag and pushing a wheelbarrow in which there is a computer. And then, in the distance, he sees a government soldier whose arm is held in a sling and whose legs are swaddled in blood-stained bandages, but he knows that this man will not trouble him. The lamps that line the street do not work, and until the city has regained electricity the street lamps will remain as mere ornaments. Gabriel passes by the city’s one luxury hotel. Even at this distance he can smell the rotting carpets, and peering through the wire fence he can see beer bottles and furniture floating in the stagnant water that fills the swimming pool.
When Gabriel reaches the shop he sees that the shutters to the hardware store are already open and his friend is in the process of displaying, on a table outside the door, what little stock he has left. Ill-matching saucepans, metal pails, batteries, garish neon torches; once upon a time Felix’s store was the place to come if you wanted any household or electrical item. If Felix did not have it, then it did not exist in the country, but Gabriel can see that since the onset of the war his former employer’s stock has been severely depleted. Gabriel walks towards his elderly friend who, although a member of the ruling tribe, has never displayed any prejudice against those, like Gabriel, whose blood marks them off as the nominal enemy. As Gabriel moves closer, Felix looks up and then sets down the pile of white crockery that he is holding. He stares at Gabriel as though looking at a ghost, and then a small smile creeps across his weather-beaten face and he lets out a short laugh of astonishment.
“Gabriel? It’s really you?” Felix holds his hands out in a gesture of disbelief. “Gabriel?”
Gabriel smiles now and takes Felix’s small hands in his own.
“But Gabriel, I heard they were looking for your family.” Then Felix remembers himself. “Come inside, come inside. You really should not be out on the streets.”
Gabriel hesitates. “Please, I do not wish to cause any trouble.”
Felix hooks his arm through Gabriel’s and pulls the younger man through the door.
“First, we have to find a place to hide you.”
“But your wife and daughter, they still live upstairs?”
Felix looks puzzled. “Of course.”
Gabriel is crestfallen. “Felix, I must go. I cannot put your family in danger. It is only a matter of time before they come here and search your place.”
“Gabriel, they have already been.” Felix laughs and shows Gabriel the bruises on his arms and the scars on his legs.
“Felix?” Gabriel speaks slowly now, but the one word hangs foolishly in the air.
Felix raises both eyebrows, urging his young friend to continue.
“Felix, I need some money. I am sorry that I have to ask you.”
Felix says nothing, and so a nervous Gabriel continues.
“I must leave the country. If I pay him, my uncle will arrange it.”
Felix puts a finger to his lips and he glances upwards. Gabriel understands that he must lower his voice.
“I am sorry.”
They stare at each other, but neither man says a word. And then, after what seems to Gabriel an age, his former employer nods, having reached a conclusion to whatever private debate he was conducting.
“Please wait here.”
Gabriel feels Felix’s hand on his shoulder, and then his friend disappears downstairs and into the basement. Gabriel knows that Felix keeps his money in a metal box that he hides beneath three loose floorboards, and he knows also that Felix scatters dirt on top of the boards to make it look as though the filthy basement contains nothing of any value. Moments later, Felix returns with his right fist tightly clenched. The nervous man slowly opens his heavily veined hand, and he reveals a small bundle of United States dollars.
“I am not a wealthy man, Gabriel. I have a wife and child, and I know that soon I will lose what is left of this shop, but please take this money.”
Gabriel takes the few notes from Felix’s proffered hand, and he pushes them into his pocket.
“Perhaps your uncle will sympathise with your situation.”
Gabriel nods, and he watches as Felix turns and nervously scans the street. Gabriel knows that he will have to act quickly, and so in one swift movement he picks up the rusting metal clock that hangs behind the door and he brings down its full weight onto the head of Felix. His friend lets out a stunned cry, but it is the noise of Felix’s body as it hits the wall and then buckles to the floor that alarms Gabriel. He tries not to look at his former employer as he quickly steps over him and then through the door which leads to the stairs.
Downstairs it is dark, but Gabriel knows exactly where to go and he rushes to the far corner of the empty basement. In the old days, when he worked for Felix, the place was crammed so full of supplies that it was often difficult to move down here. But now there is nothing at all. Gabriel kicks away the dirt with the outside of his foot and then he quickly pulls up the three boards so that the box is exposed. Gabriel grabs the box, but he sees that it is secured with a heavy padlock. It had not occurred to him that Felix would keep the box locked, but he has little time to ponder on this. He runs back upstairs and fishes in Felix’s trouser pockets for his keys and then, having found them, he rushes back downstairs. When Gabriel opens the box he sees a thick pile of dollar bills and his hands begin to shake. He grabs the bills, and the two gold rings that are inside, and he pushes them into his pocket. Then Gabriel throws down the keys, and the box, and he leaves everything in disarray. There is no reason to cover his tracks. He runs to the stairs and then up and into the shop, where he notices that the pool of blood around Felix’s head is blossoming.
Gabriel cracks the door open, but he waits for a moment before stepping out and into the street. There is a strange man on the corner who is looking in his direction, and he decides to wait until this man moves off. However, this man continues to stare at Gabriel and he shows no sign of moving on his way. In fact, the man begins now to walk towards the shop, and when he reaches Gabriel he pushes open the door and stares at the wounded figure of Felix.
“What has happened here?”
Gabriel looks at Felix as though this is the first time that he has noticed his bleeding friend, but the man is now angry.
“I know who you are. What have you done to him?”
Gabriel realises that there is little that he can say, so he steps into the street and begins to walk off, all the while looking over his shoulder. When the strange man begins to shout, Gabriel increases his pace and then he breaks into a panic-stricken run.
Eventually Gabriel turns into Joshua’s street, where he once more slows to a walk, and he tries to compose himself. He climbs the stairs without any consideration of the noise that he is making, and when he reaches the storeroom he bangs quietly, but firmly, on the door and it opens before him. Joshua looks at Gabriel as though he is gazing upon a crazy man. Once they are safely inside the candlelit room, the older man turns to face his nephew.
“You are covered in sweat, and what is this? Blood?”
“I have your money.” Gabriel pushes his hand deep into his trouser pocket and he produces the crumpled notes. Joshua takes the money, but he neither counts it, nor does he take his eyes from his nephew’s face.
“Gabriel, you must tell me what you have done.”
Gabriel can see that the eyes of the other men in the room are once again upon him.
“Please, Joshua. I have the money.”
Joshua looks to the money and begins to count the notes.
“Gabriel, this is not two thousand dollars.”
Gabriel puts his hand into his pocket and pulls out the two gold rings.
“I have nothing else.” Gabriel presses the rings upon Joshua and resigns himself to his fate, but his uncle simply points to a corner of the dark room.
“Try to get some sleep. We will leave tonight.”
Gabriel nods.
A hand pushes Gabriel’s shoulder. He opens his eyes and sees Joshua bent over him. Beyond Joshua, Gabriel can see that the other men in the room are standing by the door clutching their bundles of belongings. The heat in the room suggests night. Gabriel rubs his eyes and climbs slowly to his feet.
“We have to go now. Are you all right?”
Gabriel shakes his head quickly as though trying to clear his mind. “Yes,” he says. “I am ready.”
Joshua turns from his nephew and addresses the group in a barely audible whisper. He instructs them to wait while he goes outside to check that everything is all right. He closes the door behind him and leaves the men alone in the candlelit room. The exhausted men look quizzically at each other, but nobody dares to speak. And then Joshua bursts back into the room and orders everybody to follow him. One after another the men tumble down the stairs, and as they run into the night they can hear the bursts of gunfire in the distance. Joshua points to a truck, and orders the men to quickly throw in their belongings and then climb up and into the vehicle.
“Lie down flat and be quiet.”
Gabriel is the last man to climb in, and no sooner has he found a small space in which to lie than he feels the oppressive weight of a heavy tarpaulin being tossed over him and tightly secured to the sides of the truck. As the engine roars to life, Gabriel realises that, trussed as they are like cargo, this first part of their journey is not going to be pleasant. He can feel the dampness of other men’s perspiring bodies, and it is not possible to distinguish whose arm or leg is pressing up against him. As the truck sets off through the narrow streets of the town, it sways first one way and then the other before the engine strikes a regular tone, which informs Gabriel that they must now be on the highway. Tiredness begins to conquer his body, but his fatigued mind is suddenly shipwrecked against images of his mother and poor Felix. Gabriel knows that if he is going to live again then he will have to learn to banish all thoughts of his past existence. There can be no sentiment. Hurtling blindly down this highway, he knows that if he is lucky the past will soon be truly past, and that with every gasp of the acrid air beneath the heavy tarpaulin, life is taking him beyond this nightmare and to a new place and a new beginning.
Gabriel opens his eyes. There is a putrid smell in the air. He tries to move his hands, but both his hands and his feet are strapped down and he cannot move. Above him there is another bed that acts like an artificial ceiling. His head feels light on his shoulders and Gabriel wonders how long he has been asleep. And then he remembers the tall, thin doctor and the needle, and being lifted onto this bed, and S
aid lying on the floor and nobody coming to help him. Gabriel looks out of the corner of his eye and he can see that they have removed the body of his friend, but the smell remains. Gabriel coughs, but immediately he feels a rasping dryness in his throat and he calls out.
“Please, I need some water.” His voice is surprisingly weak. The man in the next cell shouts back at him.
“Shut your mouth, scum.”
Gabriel waits a while, but after a few moments his thirst gets the better of him.
“Please, I need water.”
Gabriel can hear the television set in the distance, and he knows that the night warder will have his feet up on the desk. He also knows that the difficult man will only stir himself when the noise of Gabriel’s demands becomes too loud for him to concentrate properly. Gabriel closes his eyes and tries to ignore his thirst, but after a few minutes he hears the door to his cell being opened and he turns his head and sees the night warder holding a metal tray of food. The man puts the tray down, and as he does so he spills some of the weak tea out of the plastic cup. He leans over and begins to untie Gabriel.
“Bit bloody ripe in here, isn’t it?” The night warder stands back and watches as Gabriel rubs his wrists and ankles to make sure that the blood is flowing properly through them.
“I’ll come back for the tray when you’re done with it.”
Gabriel sits on the edge of the bed, but he waits until the man has left the cell before leaning over and picking up the tray and placing it on his knees.
A Distant Shore Page 9