“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 Said 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.
“You fucking animal. I don’t know why they bother to feed you.”
Gabriel ignores the man and he begins to stuff the white bread and jam into his mouth as quickly as he can. Soon all of the food is gone and Gabriel is no longer hungry, but a raging thirst still causes his throat to burn. Gabriel finishes the tea and then slowly stands and crosses to the door of the cell. Once there, he looks down the corridor and sees the back of the television set and the man’s feet up on the desk.
“Please, Mr. Collins, some water.”
“Drink your own piss. Isn’t that what you lot do in the jungle?” The man next door begins to laugh at his own humour.
Gabriel says nothing and he simply focuses on the night warder’s feet, but they do not move. He watches the reflected light from the television set flickering against the wall, and then Gabriel turns from this strange cinema and climbs up onto the top bunk. He lies flat on his back, but then he realises that having been tied up like this he would prefer to adopt a different position. Gabriel rolls over onto his side, which somehow makes him feel less tense, and he faces the door to his cell so that if anybody tries to enter he will see them. However, having eaten, he once again feels tired, and so he closes his eyes, and soon his mind and body begin to feel heavy.
The heat of the day gives way to the noises of the night, but Gabriel is in pain, for his bladder is full and he is stiff with cold. When the truck finally stops, the dozen men are able to escape from beneath the tarpaulin. They climb to the ground, and as they relieve themselves they look around, but nobody seems to know exactly where they are. Once he has emptied himself, Gabriel sits with his uncle at the side of the dark road and stares at the star-speckled sky. Joshua asks his nephew if he has heard any voices of disquiet among the group, but Gabriel lets him know that despite the difficult conditions he has heard none of the men complain. The night-time stop lasts a little over an hour, and then as light begins to appear on the horizon, the men are once more shepherded onto the truck and the tarpaulin is pulled tightly into place. As the temperature begins to rise, and the blazing heat of the second day bears down upon them with full force, Gabriel cuts two holes in the tarpaulin so that air might pass through with greater ease. Having done so, he once more submits to the dull, uncomfortable rhythm of the journey.
Again day gives way to night, and just when Gabriel fears that the men will no longer be able to endure their confinement, the truck comes to an abrupt stop. Gabriel listens closely, and he can hear his uncle talking with men whose voices are charged with anger. After what seems an age, the tarpaulin is finally peeled back and the cargo is encouraged to step from the truck. Gabriel immediately realises that this stop marks the end of the first stage of their journey, for he can see that they are on the perimeter of an airfield. In the distance stands a large plane. Momentarily forgetting his hunger and his thirst, Gabriel stares blankly at the aircraft, for this is the first real evidence that he will be abandoning his country. He stretches his cramped limbs and looks across at his uncle, who is conversing with two men in military garb. Joshua says something to both men and then, as though late for an appointment, the men sprint to their jeep and begin to roar across the tarmac in the direction of the one-storey terminal building. Dust rises in their wake, and as they pass out of sight Joshua moves around to the back of the truck and prepares to address the men. Gabriel positions himself so that he is standing next to his uncle, and together with the rest of the men he waits to hear what their fate might be.
“The plane over there will take you to Europe.” Joshua lifts a weary arm and points. “However, we have to hurry for the aircraft must leave within one hour.”
Gabriel is surprised to hear himself speaking up.
“And what will happen to us when we reach Europe?”
Joshua turns to Gabriel, aware that his nephew has asked the question that most of them wish to have answered.
“I will tell you in Europe, for I am coming with you.”
Gabriel is helpless to prevent his mouth from falling open in astonishment. However, before he can ask any further questions, his uncle continues.
“When we reach Europe I will tell you of the next stage, and if you wish to follow me, then you must do so. But if you choose to go on your own, then I will respect your decision.”
For some moments Gabriel stares at his grey-haired uncle, and then the older man breaks the silence. He turns to the driver of the truck.
“Do we have more water?” The man nods, and Joshua continues. “Pass out the water, and after everybody has drunk their fill you must all return to the truck and we will leave.”
As the driver begins to pass round the gourd of water, Gabriel touches his uncle’s arm.
“Is everything all right?”
Joshua looks all about himself before answering.
“Gabriel, there has been another massacre. I cannot go back.”
“And your family?” asks Gabriel.
Joshua shakes his head and the two men stare at each other.
When the truck reaches the shadow of the plane, the dozen men climb down and wait eagerly on the tarmac. They huddle together, while all around them men with powerful guns shout instructions to each other in a language that Gabriel cannot understand. Joshua raises his voice in order to be heard.
“This way. We must hurry now.”
A flight of steps has been pushed up against the plane, and Joshua leads the way. At the top of the steps, Gabriel turns and looks down at the one-storey terminal building, and the dimly lit runway, and the dark bush that spreads out flat in every direction as far as the eye can see. And then a man pushes past him, and then another, and Gabriel realises that he should not linger. Once he is inside, Gabriel is surprised to see that there are already perhaps one hundred men and women who are seated on the floor with their backs to the wall of the plane. There are no seats, and to Gabriel’s eyes the interior looks like a large tubular warehouse. Those who have not been lucky enough to find wall space squat awkwardly.