by Lucie Shores

Created on: January 26, 2008   Last Updated: June 16, 2010

Alhaji awoke suddenly, but not completely, and lay in the dark. His eyes were heavy and his muscles were sore from tension, or too little sleep. Not conscious of the surroundings, he searched memory for a series of events. When it came to him it was unwelcome. The smell of diesel exhaust reached his nostrils in the darkness of the room. He lifted a strange weight and texture uneasily from his skin. Sounds of pneumatic devices reached his ears, doors opening and closing, or just the brakes of large trucks, sounds that might reassure or annoy.

He accepted but detested these things. Pushing the bedclothes aside, he raised himself up with the heel of his hand. Still aching and full of tension or remorse, his body felt like a stranger's. But the darkness held more, a soft mattress supported him, too soft and inviting, not encouraging him to get up. A shaft of light pierced one of the walls, and he felt carefully by the side of his bed with one hand, in case a venomous snake had made its bed in one, still warm sandal overnight. In the silence of the room he swung his legs over the side of the bed. Nothing moved and he slipped his feet into the well-worn sandals. His shattered nervous system assumed this movement to be the beginning of a good stretch and convulsed him with an involuntary waking of muscle and sinew. His nerves let him go and he slumped to pull the straps of well-worn sandals onto his feet. The floor was hard, and the cold touch of tile under his hand near the source of the suns rays surprised him, until he found the ropes and pulled opened the shade covering part of one wall. Light poured in through large windows. It was obviously midday and he was not where he wanted to be.

The streets were filled with trucks spewing clouds of diesel exhaust that choked the windows of sky between the buildings. Other traffic moved rhythmically, grinding gears and racing engines. A slow stream of vehicles passed under the open window where a sunshade of slats had been closed on the previous evening. He remembered that, and was slightly off balance from the realization. Grabbing the sill of the window, the sudden flapping of wings startled him, as a pigeon fell into the air in front of him. He turned to see what was contained by the room where he'd spent the night. A leather briefcase lay on the table that was pushed up against a chalky, greenish yellow wall. A khaki colored canvas bag spilled some of its contents under a chair and a book lay at the foot of the bed

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