Read Online Gift of Revelation by Robert Fleming - Free Book Online Page B

There are a lot of unusual odors over here, not like what one would smell in New York or London.”
    The driver, a Muslim, waved his hand to chase away the cigarette smoke that was filling the car. I didn’t mind. As a former smoker, I often fought the urge to return to smoking. A tobacco addiction was one more thing I had to keep out of my life. Say no to smoking, right? I thought.
    Elsa thought for a moment and then asked if I was thinking of marrying Addie. I had considered that possibility. She wanted a real relationship, a legal marriage. However, the disaster of my first marriage had always hindered me from making any such move. I never wanted to go through that again.
    â€œI don’t know,” I confessed.
    â€œHave you been married before?”
    She was getting very personal. White folks were always up in your business. They wanted to know everything about you, but they told you nothing about themselves. I wished our destination was closer so I wouldn’t have to go through this police grilling.
    â€œYes.”
    â€œAnd what?” She was very nosy.
    â€œIt was hell. It ended badly. What about you? Have you ever been married?”
    She smiled mysteriously and reached for another cigarette. I guessed this was a sore spot for her. Her eyes softened with emotion; then they became hardened.
    â€œElsa, have you been married?” I repeated.
    She looked bored with the topic. Clearly, she wasn’t listening anymore. Her fingers brought the cigarette to her thin lips, and she blew smoke ring after smoke ring into the car.
    As she’d shown in the episode in the hotel lobby, Elsa controlled everything, manipulated the conversation, choosing what she wanted to discuss and what she did not. As far as I was concerned, I didn’t care that she wanted to dominate the situation. But I wondered what she would do if she was no longer in control, if she had to submit to another person’s will. How would she act?
    After knocking on the partition, Elsa asked the driver if he knew where Street 60 on the east side of the city was. He grinned, showing a row of yellow teeth, and replied that he did.
    â€œThe Sudanese economy isn’t worth a plugged nickel,” she said, tossing the cigarette out the window. “It’s been tanking, especially since the south broke off and became an independent state in twenty eleven. That’s why there is so much trouble down there. It’s all about money, I think. Yes, the tribal and ethnic thing plays into the crisis, but the pressing issue is the oil. The government wants to get that moneymaker back.”
    I played along with her game. “When did al-Bashir take command of the country?”
    â€œHe headed a military coup back in nineteen eighty-nine. Since that time, his troops and their rebel cronies have practiced genocide in the western region of the country, Darfur. The West has complained about it, and the International Criminal Court even issued an arrest warrant for al-Bashir, but the man is still in control, and the body count goes higher.”
    â€œYou better watch what you say,” the driver warned, speaking in broken English. “You can get in trouble here.”
    â€œPiss off, man,” the BBC reporter hissed.
    When we got near the protest site, we saw buses packed with demonstrators carrying signs, young and old, with padding on their arms and knees. Protesters poured from cars on the side streets. There was a definite energy among them. They seemed determined, as if they were not going to back down in their opposition to the corrupt regime of al-Bashir.
    â€œOh yes, this is going to be fun,” Elsa said, cheering. “The people will not be stopped. I don’t know if you saw in the newspapers that the security forces have rounded up nearly one thousand activists, opposition members, journalists, religious types, and others in a sweep to crack down on dissent. Unfortunately, the government, which is