Read Online Between Heaven and Earth by Eric Walters - Free Book Online

me was the age range of the people at the hotel. Most people were on the younger side, with me being the youngest, but there were a number who were well beyond what I’d consider mountain-climbing age, unless there was a special lane for walkers and wheelchairs. They were probably just there to sightsee or to cheer on younger relatives who were going to the top.
    I sat until after eight, after dark, and well after the time Sarah said she’d be back. “Back in an hour” had now become almost three. Didn’t anybody in Africa know how many minutes were in an hour? I was always on time. I hated to be late or keep people waiting. Even worse, I really hated it when people kept me waiting. It was so disrespectful. If she couldn’t find who she was looking for, she was keeping me from looking for the things I’d need. Even if she was right and no stores stocked size-thirteen boots, I might be able to squeeze into a twelve, or even buy an eleven or ten and cut out the toes so I could use them. I’d always found a way to succeed before, and this wasn’t going to be any different.
    â€œHello, DJ.” It was Sarah.
    â€œDid you find some stuff that I can use?”
    â€œNot yet, but I think I can get what is needed. I need money,” she said.
    â€œHow much?”
    â€œMaybe eighty thousand shillings.”
    I almost reacted emotionally to the number before I did the conversion in my head. That was about $50 .
    I pulled out the money in my pocket: $60 . The rest of my money, along with my passport and the cane, was locked in the hotel safe. I wasn’t going to risk losing those things as well.
    Sarah took the money from me.
    â€œI will be back in less than an hour,” she said.
    â€œI’m going to go with you.”
    She shook her head vigorously. “No, no, it would not be safe for you to go.”
    â€œThen it’s even less safe for you to go without me. There’s safety in numbers.”
    â€œI do not think it would be wise for you to come.”
    â€œI don’t see a choice. I need to be there at least to try on the hiking boots,” I said, grasping for a convincing reason.
    â€œI just do not think that—”
    â€œLook.” I got to my feet so I towered over her. “It’s my money, my things, my hiking boots, and I’m coming along.”
    â€œI will not argue, but do not say that I did not warn you.”

    â€œThis way,” Sarah said.
    What had seemed smart sitting on the veranda of the hotel quickly seemed less wise as we wove our way through small streets, back alleys and narrow footpaths cutting between huts and shacks. I followed her down another twist in the pathway between the shacks. This new route was even narrower. At times I had to practically turn sideways to pass.
    Lining the cramped passages were huts and small shops that were really just stalls thrown together with random pieces of wood, sheets of corrugated metal, cardboard and plastic. The air was stained with smoke, so strong and thick I could almost taste it.
    The only light along our route came from a few kerosene lamps hanging from poles or sitting on sills or shining through the small openings of the buildings. Outside of these faint leaks of light, the darkness completely engulfed everything.
    The darkness was both reassuring and unnerving. I couldn’t see very well, but at least I was less visible. It felt like my white skin could almost go unnoticed. Of course that was just wishful thinking. When any light did catch me, it felt as if my skin practically glowed as the light reflected off its whiteness. There was no hiding. I could tell by the reaction I was getting as I followed Sarah. People’s eyes widened in surprise and there was a ripple of conversation that grew louder as we passed. I could hear the unmistakable word mzungu .
    A procession of little children trailed behind me. When I turned around, they stopped in their tracks, bumping