After 15 minutes or so, all of us were pretty hot and thirsty. We made our way back to the bar except this time Helen sat next to me and Ineke next to Richard. More drinks were ordered. I stood up to excuse myself as I needed to go to the toilet. I had noticed there was a gents in the restaurant area. As I left, Helen grabbed my arm and whispered in my ear.
“You are coming back Jason?” she asked.
“Yup. I'm coming back. Two minutes.” I replied. I made my way through the darkness under the palms towards the dining area. I felt numb from the events of the evening. Just enjoy yourself Green.
The sand that stuck to bottom of my slops crunched on the concrete floor of the dining area as I walked in. I found the place totally deserted and the door to the gents locked. I decided I would find a dark area under a tree and go there. As I walked out into the darkness, I bumped into the tall dark frame of Richard coming towards me. “Jason, Jason!” he said, stopping me. “It’s looking good in there mate! What do you reckon?” He had a broad grin on his face and his glasses glinted in the moonlight. “Ya, its looking pretty good Rich,” I said smiling.
“Is the toilet open?” He asked pointing at the restaurant.
“No, it’s locked, I thought I would find a dark palm tree and go there.” I replied.
He paused, looking around. “Umm, do you think we could go to your room instead?” He asked in a hushed tone.
“Why bother?” I said, “we can just go to a dark area somewhere.” Why the hell is he asking to go to my room? I thought, confused.
“I'll show you when we get there, it’ll be quick, I promise, come on!” he whispered, excitedly.
“Ok, if you insist.” I said, and we walked together down the pathway past the other bungalows towards mine. On the way, he spoke constantly about the two women in the bar right up until the time I unlocked the door and turned on the light.
“Toilet’s through there Richard,” I said motioning towards the door at the rear of the room.
“No you first, please go ahead,” he replied.
Feeling slightly puzzled at his behaviour, I went through and used the toilet, keeping the door open behind me. He talked away as I peed and only when I stepped out did I realise his motivation for coming to the room. He was hunched over the dressing table, a small glass vial in his left hand, a credit card in his right. He had removed the jug of water and two drinking glasses from the plate on which they sat and was busy chopping two fat lines of white powder with the credit card. He turned and faced me with a broad grin as I walked out.
“Would you like a line Jason? Party all night!” he asked, raising his eyebrows. I had smoked weed in my youth in Africa and occasionally in London, but I had never delved into harder drugs.
“Is that coke?” I asked, stopping in my tracks.
“Yup, one hundred percent pure cocaine,” he replied as he rolled up a crisp $100 bill.
“It’s not really my thing Richard,” I said. He put the rolled up note to his nose, dropped his head and proceeded to snort one of the huge white lines on the plate. Instantly he stood up, sniffing and brushing his nose with his hand.
“Hey no problem Jason, if you don't want it, I'll have it. But I'm busting for a piss, can I carry on?” he asked.
“Sure, sure, carry on,” I said motioning again to the bathroom. As he went through, I walked over to the table. Suddenly it all made sense. The dinner plate on the floor of the passenger seat of the Aston Martin. The plate on his bedside table in the flat in Sloane Square, and now the plate in my room in Zanzibar. Fucking hell. Think fast Green. I put my middle finger to the right of the line of white powder on the plate and flicked it onto the floor. At the same time I made a loud sniffing sound so he would think I had taken it. I glanced at my finger and saw a residue of white powder. I quickly put my finger in mouth and sucked the residue. Instantly my mouth was filled with a clinical chemical taste. The toilet flushed and Richard walked out beaming from ear to ear.
“Did you have it then?” He asked looking at the plate.
“I did, pretty good stuff.”
“Excellent, now let’s get back to the ladies.” He picked up the vial and the $100 note and we made our way back up the pathway towards the bar. I found it more and more difficult to talk as we went. My mouth was completely numb and cold from the tiny amount of powder I had swallowed. By the time we got back to the bar the ladies were in fine form and they both cheered as we walked in. Helen immediately came up and put her arms around my neck.
“Let’s dance again Jason, I love this song!”
“Just a minute please Helen, I need to drink something, my mouth is very dry.” I said. I wasn't lying either. If Richard was at full throttle before, he was now in overdrive. He ordered another full round of drinks and shooters and proceeded to turn up the volume and dance with Ineke. This time it was rave music and he made frantic movements with his long arms as he danced, all the while with a huge grin on his face. The music and dancing continued whilst I sat at the bar and chatted to Helen. She moved closer and closer as we spoke and after half an hour she was sitting right next me brushing her fingers up and down my back. It wasn't an entirely unwelcome distraction, but I kept my eye on Richard and Ineke as we spoke.
Eventually I noticed Ineke begin to tire from the dancing. She dragged the extremely energetic Richard back to the bar and sat down. Richard immediately picked up his beer and drank deeply from it. Ineke had become a bit pale in the face.
“Do you think she’s ok? She looks a bit pale.” I asked Helen. Immediately she got up and went to tend to her friend. Richard came and sat down near me.
“How are you feeling buddy?” He asked, still nodding to the music with a sweaty grin on his face.
“Feeling good Richard, you?” I replied.
“Hundred percent buddy, hundred percent!” He laughed knowingly. Then I noticed that Helen had put her arm around Ineke, who was now leaning on the bar counter and beginning to slump. Clearly she had drunk too much and was now feeling it. Helen stood up and walked over to Richard and myself.
“I'm very sorry guys, Ineke is not feeling very well, I think I should take her to bed now,” she said in her broad Dutch accent. A look of genuine disappointment on her face.
“Oh no, I'm sorry to hear that,” Richard said, “do you need any help?”
“No thank you Richard, it will be fine. I think she just needs to sleep. But thank you for an excellent evening, we hope to meet you again.”
Then she quickly stepped up to me and whispered in my ear. “What is your room number Jason?”
“Number eight,” I replied without thinking. She made her way back to her friend, helped her up and they both made their way out of the bar.
“Goodnight girls!” Richard called as they left, then he turned to face me again.
“That's a damn shame!” he said, “but I reckon you’re in there Jase.”
“Hmm, I think you may be right.” I replied. Our conversation continued for another twenty minutes. Richard was a lot more talkative than usual. A direct effect of the cocaine. Eventually the combination of the drink and the long day caught up with him visibly and he decided that he would take a walk back to his hotel. By then, it was 12.30pm and the barman Robson was not happy about it at all. “Mr Richard, very dangerous to walk alone this time on beach. Please wait. I come with you.” I decided that I would offer to take the walk with him.
It would give me a chance to get more of an insight into his life without the distractions of the bar, the women, and the drink.
“Actually I wouldn’t mind a walk up the beach Rich, I'll walk with you.” I said.
“Ya, let’s do that, we can take a beer with us,” he replied. Robson the barman had overheard our conversation and was eyeing us both dubiously.
“Robson, I am going to walk with Mr Richard, don't worry please. I will be very careful,” I said to him hoping for approval.
“Ok, hakuna matata, but this time late, too many beach boys looking for money!
” He retorted with a worried look on his face. Richard ordered two more beers and the tab for the evening. I insisted on paying half. After all it was only fair considering it was his father’s money. We left the bar and made our way through the trees and onto the beach. The moon was high in the sky now and the ocean and beach were clearly visible in the natural light. We crossed the soft sand and started walking up the hard shoulder. The night was warm, but a cool breeze was coming in from the sea. Robson had turned the music off and to our right I could hear the constant and ever-present sound of the cicadas in the grass and trees. “Sweee sweee sweeee sweee sweeee sweeee,” it was a sound I hadn't heard in many years, a sound of Africa. It brought back mixed memories of my childhood. Some were fond memories of lying awake on camping trips in the bush listening to the sounds of the night. Some were terrible memories of twisted fever dreams whilst in the burning hot and freezing cold grip of a bout of malaria. Then it was a bad sound which seemed to get louder and louder as the parasites periodically burst out of the liver and the hallucinations, craving for water, and sweating started. Soon enough we passed the boundary of the Paje Village Hotel and to our right was the shabby bar I had seen earlier. The music was still playing and although the outside of the building was shrouded in darkness, I could see the patrons dancing and drinking as they had been before. Apart form the distant twinkling lights, the slow left curve of the beach ahead was deserted and I wondered if there had been any substance to Robson's warning. Perhaps he was just over concerned for his customers. How wrong I was.
As we walked I realised that Richard's steam was beginning to run out and the events of the day were catching up with him. He staggered in the sand occasionally and his speech became a little slurred.
“It’s been great to meet you Jase, thanks for a good evening, we must do it again,” he said.
“Yeah it’s been good fun Rich,” I said. “We’ll play it by ear.” 50 metres ahead was the water sports centre. In the dim light I could see that all the signage and kit had been removed and the front had been boarded up for the night. Just before the building on the right was an access road which obviously led back to the tarmac through the trees. I imagined this would be where the boats and equipment would be driven onto the beach. The area was dark, deserted, and totally silent and I glanced at it occasionally as we walked. It gave me a bad feeling. It was a perfect place from which to make a sneak attack or ambush. It also offered a convenient getaway back to the main road through the darkness and cover of the trees. There were no hotels, lights, or security guards in the area. It must have been instinct because as we approached I noticed two human figures emerge from the darkness. They walked quickly and silently across the sand on a path that would see them meet with us somewhere opposite the water sports centre. Not to worry Green, they could be guards, they could be tourists, they could be anyone! I thought hopefully. All the while Richard jabbered on, totally oblivious to what was happening in front of us. As we got closer, a cold feeling spread through my stomach and I felt my arms tense up and start tingling as the adrenalin started pumping through my body. I felt my senses sharpening. What now Green? After everything that had happened that day, this was the last thing I needed. It was definitely going to be a confrontation of some kind. They were dressed in dark clothes and on a deliberate and planned path to meet us. I poured my half finished beer onto the sand and stuffed the bottle, base first into the back of my shorts. Then I gripped Richard's left arm as we walked to warn him of what I believed was happening.
“What's up?” he said surprised. “Listen, I think we might have a spot of bother here Richard.
Just be calm ok?” I whispered.
“Oh shit!” He replied, as he saw the two men approaching. By then we were no more than ten metres apart and by that stage everything had started to appear in slow motion. They were two black men in their twenties. Both over six feet tall and well built. One wore black shorts and a grubby brown vest. He carried a thick wooden club which was half a metre in length. The other wore dark trousers and what looked like a tracksuit top. Strapped across his right shoulder and his left side was a large sheath.
I had no doubt that this would contain a panga (a crude and deadly blade attached to a rough wooden handle). Everything appeared in slow motion.
“You stop now!” the man with the panga bellowed. I was facing him whilst the other man with the club was facing Richard. We stood two metres apart and I could see the reddened whites of their wide eyes. Suddenly, I heard Richard's breathing to my left. It had become panicked and short. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed his chest heaving in and out rapidly. His entire body was racked with base fear. He raised his hands, one still clutching his beer bottle and stood there shaking uncontrollably. As expected, the man in front of me drew the panga from sheath on his chest. The sharpened section of the ugly blade glinted in the moonlight as he brought it up to point it towards my face.
“You no give us money, we fucking kill you, give money now!” the man with the blade shouted. I smelled home-brewed opaque beer on his breath. Slow motion. I was now gauging the situation every tenth of a second. The man with the club who was standing in front of Richard was obviously the sidekick. The less aggressive and more stupid of the two. His bloodshot eyes were more interested in Richard's expensive watch and the beer in his hand than me. Trying my best to exude an air of calmness, I slowly raised my hands showing empty and open palms.
“No problem,” I said quietly, “we will give you money. We don't want any problem with you.”
“Shut up!” the man screamed. “Give money now or I kill you now!” Droplets of saliva shot from his mouth as he shouted. He was becoming more and more agitated with every second and his eyes kept darting to his left and down the beach behind us. Slow motion. Red mist. The blade was less than a metre from my face, thick ugly iron hammered flat and fashioned from an old leaf spring.
“Ok, ok, ok,” I said, “I am going to take the money in my pocket.” I started lowering my left hand to where my wallet was. His eyes followed my hand as it dropped slowly. To my left Richard shuddered in terror, his breathing frantic and fast, both hands still raised in the air. My left hand dug into the deep pocket and found the wallet. “Ok, I have the money now, lots of money ok?” I said nodding, trying to get the man to look into my eyes.
Slowly I drew the wallet out of the pocket. Although there wasn't a great deal of cash in it, it looked full from all the cards and papers I had stuffed into it.
“Ok,” I said, “no problem, here is the money, plenty of money here.” With a flick of my left wrist, I tossed the wallet into the air between the two men. It flew not more than a foot above their heads but it was what I had planned and gave me the opportunity I needed to neutralise at least one of them. Slow motion. Red mist. My right hand dropped as soon as the wallet was tossed and went behind my back to find the neck of the empty beer bottle. Predictably, the two mens eyes followed the wallet as it flew and their focus and concentration was broken. Both tried to catch it at the same time and as a result, the panga which had been in my face began to move upwards as well. By the time the wallet had reached their eye level my right hand had found the neck of the beer bottle and it was on its way around on a path towards the panga man’s temple. Before he knew what was happening the thick green glass of the bottle shattered on the side of his head. It made a curious sound as it connected and I knew the force with which I hit him would be enough to render him unconscious for a while. I used the sideways motion of my right arm swinging and ducking beneath the still slightly raised blade, I barged into his torso in a desperate effort to get to the man with the club. The panga man staggered backwards, blade still raised, and as I passed him I saw the eyes roll up. I never saw him drop as I was on my way towards the man with the club. He was standing there with his weapon raised, incredulous and stunned at what he had seen take place in the second before. Acutely aware that the club could do me some serious damage, I hit him with my right shoulder in the solar p
lexus while gripping him around his filthy brown vest with my arms. The wind was instantly forced out of his body with a whooshing sound. At that moment the club came down onto my back with force, but I was grateful he had missed my head. He was picked off his feet, carried for a few steps and slammed into the hard sand with another shoulder to the solar plexus. Feeling his body was now limp, I knelt up and looked into his face. His eyes were still wide awake and his mouth was gaping as he desperately tried to get oxygen into his lungs.
As I stood up, a bolt of pain shot across my lower back. Without looking at Richard, I walked over to where the man with the panga was lying. He was flat out on his back, snoring in the moonlight, his head leaning slightly to his right, a peaceful look on his face. A trickle of blood ran down from his head into the sand. It looked black in the moonlight. I pulled the sheath from around his neck and retrieved the panga which was still in his right hand. Then I turned to Richard. He stood where I had last seen him. His hands were not as high as they had been but they were still at chest level. The bottle of beer still clutched in one of them. His glasses were halfway down his nose and he stared at me with a look of confused disbelief on his face. At that moment the man with the club finally got his breath.
He lay where he had fallen with his barrel-like chest moving up and down steadily as he gulped in the precious air with desperate wheezing groans. I put the panga in its sheath as I walked over towards him. I knelt down beside him and was again aware of the smell of home brew beer as I looked into his eyes. They stared up at me, wide and frightened.
The Jason Green series Box Set Page 17