Sip this. And I mean sip it," he held the Styrofoam cup to herlips and she sipped while he held the cup.He put his arm around her to steady her and held her to him while shesipped the drink until it was all gone. She rested her head on hisshoulder and he could smell the shampoo on her hair. He absentmindedlystroked her hair and she smiled. He was about to smile himself and thenhe realised what he was doing.He pushed her off him."You really are a drunk aren't you," he hissed."Can I have a cigarette?" she asked, feeling forlorn.He lit two and gave her one."How can you live with yourself? Knowing who you are? Knowing what youare?" he looked at the tip of his cigarette."I don't live with myself. I stopped living with myself just over twentyyears ago. That's when I became the librarian, keeping myself to myself,keeping silent and drowning my memories with drink every night," shelooked at the gravelly ground littered with decaying cigarette butts."I know who you were. That isn't. The uneven rock strewn path was fairly flat for while, but soon led up a steep incline with a number of switchbacks. None of the whites were in remotely good physical shape and soon all four were wheezing and sweating profusely in the oppressive heat. Their captors laughed and chattered among themselves in Swahili, to the utter confusion of the targets of their mirth.Just as it seemed they could not go on, they suddenly entered a small clearing just short of the ridgeline. A rough camp with a fire pit surrounded by several sleeping pallets filled the clearing. A heavy-set black woman clothed in the same quasi-uniform as the men tended a fire. She started with surprise when the four guests entered the clearing, but the surprise quickly turned to what all four of her guests took to be a predatory grin.The clearing was well lit by the sunlight filtering through the rather thin canopy, which undoubtedly still managed to provide complete protection from observation from the air.The five.
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