The Way Things Seem

by Mackey Chandler

  * * *

  They switched again in the night, Jeese driving until the eastern sky was just starting to get that blue that was the color of burnt steel. They started seeing lights at the top of radio towers and lights off in the night too far away to know with what they were associated. David was fascinated to see the emissions of the towers that were invisible to him before.

  Jesse pulled over before they got in sight of the border. “Climb in the back with Uncle and they probably won’t even talk to you,” he told David. When they got to the border checkpoint they were very interested – in the cattle. Jesse had a big stack of papers and permits. The agents peered in the trailer with flashlights. When they were out of sight of the border Jesse stopped again and waved him forward to the cab.

  “I thought the idiots were going to make me open up and unload. I doubt any of them have ever had any experience handling a bull. They’d have managed to get him all wound up and we’d have never got him back in without a loading chute. We’d be lucky if he didn’t trample somebody.”

  By the time there were occasional buildings along the road the light had overcome even the brightest stars in the western sky. Muted colors were apparent outside their head lights and a few local vehicles were moving about. There were a couple clumps of men standing beside the road, workmen waiting for a ride David assumed. When they pulled up to a gate beside a low building with fencing behind it there was a man standing in the doorway scowling at them.

  “I should have dropped you off a kilometer back. Now my buyer is going to harass me about being soft-hearted and taking riders,” Jeese said. “He’s not usually here so early, I often have to wait for him to show up.”

  “You have my picture,” David reminded him. “Just show it to him and tell him I was on a secret mission to check up on some of my employees. That’s entirely in character. I do owe you for the ride. Consider I owe you a favor you can call upon. My address is my name at my company name, dot com.

  “That’s brilliant, thank you. I appreciate the favor,” Jeese said.

  When they got out Uncle made a respectful gesture to Jeese, but David stood straight and thrust his hand out to shake it. Then they walked off down the road like it was the most natural thing in the world. The business owner came over to the truck rather than go to open the gate like he normally would. “You’re going to get your throat cut some day picking up riff-raff on the road.”

  Jeese was delighted to be able to just laugh at him. “The young one is an American and he could buy our business interests as easily as you could buy me breakfast if you weren’t such a tightwad.”

  “Well of course. I could see that from the way he was dressed.”

  Jesse just showed him the picture on his phone.

  “He was checking up on some people, incognito, and they will never know their boss was inspecting their operation. It’s good to have a man like that owe you a favor,” he added.

  “That is him. May God protect me from ever having a boss that devious!” he said heart-felt. “Not that I don’t always do everything on the up and up without being watched.”

  “Indeed. Let’s get these cows loose why don’t we?” Jeese reminded him.

  He took one last look at the two walking down the street and shook his head. “Do you know where they are going?”

  “A man like that, he doesn’t tell you anything you don’t need to know,” Jesse said.

  He just nodded and went to unlock the gate.

  * * *

  “It’s like a carnival,” David said of the city.

  “I’m not sure I understand. I’m familiar with carnival as religious celebration. I’ve seen pictures of it in Europe and understand it is important in Latin America. Not to be judgmental, but I was given to understand it can involve quite unwholesome revelry,” Uncle said. “I don’t know what you could see in the city to bring it to mind.”

  “I can see the confusion,” David agreed. “In the US there are some carnival celebrations, in New Orleans and Southern Florida. It’s a big deal there. But there are little traveling shows that set up from town to town all over and not by any religious dates. They run all through the warm months and retreat to the South in the winter. They are called carnivals. The people who run them are even called carnies. They have rides and games and food trucks, but the thing about them is they string lots of lights and have bright or flashing lights all over everything. That’s what it looks like to me now with the haloes and fringes of light on everything that has power. That transformer over there on the pole looks like a fireworks display all by itself the way it pulses.”

  “I understand now. Such a display is meant to dazzle and amuse. In honesty, I find it tiresome to be that way all the time,” Uncle told him.

  “Times Square in New York is meant to be like that and you’d find Las Vegas just overwhelming.”

  “I can do without the experience, thank you. If I came to your country, surely you have quiet places like I took you? I’ve seen western movies where it looked wilder than even where we were.”

  “There are, though it gets harder and harder to find them. Will we be too early to your nephew’s house?” David worried. “I don’t see that many people stirring about. I don’t want to wake them up.”

  “His wives would be indignant. They would consider such late sleeping laziness. They will get up and bustle around even if there is nothing vital to do and make a big production out of making breakfast. We will simply go to the kitchen entry and call discreetly. With a little luck we can get a simple breakfast. I should warn you, I can get us a couple days hospitality, but I’d rather not wear my welcome out with a second guest beyond that. I’d take residence with them myself for weeks with no problem, but I am family.”

  “One of our early statesmen said that fish and guests both start to stink after three days.”

  “He was an uncommonly wise man,” Uncle allowed.

  “I can think of two ways to deal with this,” David allowed. “I can move back in the hotel but buy you some nice clothing so you can come and go with me. I could even get you a room. Or I could pay to rent a small apartment for us to work out of here in town. You can stay with me or stay with your people and we can get together each day. Whatever works for you.”

  “I could never be comfortable in your hotel. I’d feel out of place. I can find you a small apartment and we can walk about and give you a chance to deal with people. I know some people to talk to tomorrow and I’ll try to find something very short term. I will probably grow tired of it and want to leave the city before you do.”

  * * *

  Back home it would be called a studio apartment or an efficiency if not just a room. If you wanted to cook you needed one of the common butane stoves. Single or double burner versions were a common item in the market. Water was down the hall, as was the toilet and a shower, each in their own little room. There was no hand sink. For a week or two David didn’t care.

  At least it wasn’t a hole in the floor squat toilet, but the luxury European model and obviously an add on to the original building. When he looked at both they were clean. Everything was tile and stucco and the windows had shutters and no glass, but they had screens, retro-fitted. It was an old building. With the upgrades it wasn’t cheap either. It was aimed at European renters.

  There was an older gentleman who dressed formally and inappropriately for the climate, who left each morning at the same time. He looked too old not to be retired. He was a mystery. There was a tiny older lady who had red hair and always looked frightened to see anyone in the hall. She always scurried in her room when she saw anyone.

  Another apartment had a family who might be locals, or at least North Africans of some variety. They kept to themselves and would just nod if greeted. The family had two boys who hardly ever stayed home. David couldn’t imagine four people jammed in the same space that made him claustrophobic living by himself. With the boys, he wondered when the school year ran, if they might go to private school, or if th
ey were required to attend school by law at all. It was an odd bunch in the building. He never saw anybody enter or leave at all from a couple of apartments.

  Ibrahim, Uncles nephew was close enough Uncle could stay there and they could meet up for the day. They went to the market and a coffee house. Uncle accepted the gift of some nicer clothes so they could go to a few of the nicer restaurants.

  They went to a place in one evening that seemed rather expensive even to David, but the sort of clientele they had made it worth it. Uncle pointed out several people who had body guards. The face colors and changes in a vigilant guard’s face were very interesting. They were masters of controlling the outward appearance, but Uncle was right, there was no controlling this other display unseen to most people.

  The one guarded person was a government official. The way the restaurant staff treated him was interesting. When the owner visited his table to inquire if everything was satisfactory his fear was both obvious and instructive. The other person Uncle didn’t know, but he had to be rich to be eating here. What David noticed was he never relaxed, not even as much as his guards allowed themselves.

  David saw genuine attraction now enough to recognize it. Some of it like one young couple they observed in a park seemed to fairly overwhelm all the other emotions they displayed. It didn’t surprise him at all when the flashy woman with the politician displayed no signs of any real attraction to him. What she did display to normal senses was entirely fake. But the other fellow with body guards totally disgusted him. His showy lady friend had no sincere attraction to him, but neither did he for her. She was as much a fashion accessory as his gaudy expensive watch.

  In the market there were now things to be learned too. They found David’s lady selling skewers of meat and bread with which to eat them. He was dressed down today to not stand out in the market so she looked right at him and didn’t recognize him. Probably, she was fooled because he was thinner and hadn’t shaved what thin beard he’d grown yet.

  “I took your advice Auntie and dressed for the neighborhood,” David said.

  She looked at him again harder and her mouth fell open. “You scoundrel! You’re skinnier too, but you have the same odd accent. There haven’t been any irate mothers around looking for you, so your disguise must be working. I won’t give you away,” she promised and went to another customer.

  “Irate mothers?” Uncle asked, as they walked away.

  “She strongly reproved me, last we met, for my late hours and being a dandy.”

  “I’ve never understood this virtue in forcing one’s self up before the sun,” Uncle admitted.

  “In English you say the early bird gets the worm,” David said.

  “Now it all makes sense,” Uncle said. “You won’t eat worms so why rouse out early?”

  They found a place out of the way by a wall to eat and observe. Soon Uncle called his attention to a man looking over the goods on display.

  “He’s looking to steal something,” David concluded quickly.

  “Why do you say that?” Uncle asked.

  “Well, not by any skill with false colors or anything new. I’ve seen fellows like him and studies on how to place cameras to thwart retail theft. He’s trying to find a position where his body hides what he is doing on the side away from the merchant. If he could, he’d pick something up and then step closer like he’s looking at another item. When he straightens up he can pocket the item and the motion will cover slipping it in a pocket. But the merchant has his things set so you have to reach quite far to pick something up and he watches until you set it back. Usually a fellow like this has an accomplice working with him to distract the seller.”

  “Even if he did, the fellow in the next booth is covering for him. He watches when he has no customer of his own,” Uncle said. “But do observe his face. He’s both frustrated and excited. He gets a thrill from stealing. I’ve seen that sort of face on others. He may have a strange thing about fire too. He should be watched closely not to set fires on other’s property.”

  “Oh, he’s obsessive,” David said. “Does this show up on people who require extreme orderliness to be happy?”

  “Explain further, I’m not sure I understand,” Uncle asked.

  “The sort who has to have everything on a shelf spaced exactly and turned just so,” David said, illustrating it with his hands. “Who can’t lay a box on a table unless it is set square to the edges, or can’t abide a picture hanging crooked on the wall.”

  “Yes! The sort who count their coins every few minutes because they aren’t sure they have the sum of them after a few minutes. They count their steps to work every morning though they’ve walked it a thousand times,” Uncle said.

  “There are forms of it where they compulsively wash their hands over and over too,” David said.

  “Amazing. But yes, it’s a defect of the mind,” Uncle agreed.

  When they went to dinner that evening as soon as the waiter served the people at the next table they looked at each other and got up and left without a word between them.

  “You saw,” Uncle said, in the street.

  “Yes, he was horribly unbalanced and glowing with malice. But on the surface he’s smiling and full of good will. He’s going to hurt somebody,” David predicted.

  “He probably has hurt somebody,” Uncle said. “It will just shock everybody when they find out it is the happy smiling waiter who everybody likes.”

  The lessons weren’t that hard. It was just gathering data. David knew how to do that.

  David took him to a pizza place twice for lunch because Uncle really liked pizza, and Ibrahim’s wives never made it. They were enjoying the Supreme version this second luncheon. It surprised David it appeared to have pepperoni on it. He wasn’t brave enough to ask if there was a version that didn’t have pork. But they also had women customers, so maybe the place didn’t cater to the strictly observant.

  “That lady in the corner facing us has an appearance about her face very much like a woman who rents in my building,” David noted.

  “You don’t mean the scarf do you?” Uncle asked.

  “No it’s hard to describe. It’s like a sort of funnel in gray around her face.” David had a sudden realization and forced a frown on his face when he wanted to laugh.

  “And it’s amusing?” Uncle asked, by no means fooled by his trying to hide the smile.

  “It’s one of those weird associations that come to you. She may have seen me looking at her and I don’t want to be seen laughing immediately. She’d easily take offence, not knowing why. Have you ever seen a funnel that a veterinary puts on a dog to keep it from worrying at a bandage or stitches?”

  “No, very few people have such valuable animals that they are worth hiring a veterinary. Perhaps a rich person with race horses might. But dogs are unclean to most people here anyway.”

  “Give me a second,” David asked and worked his phone with his thumbs. “There that’s what I’m talking about.” The picture was of a miniature bulldog with a plastic Elizabethan collar.

  Uncle smiled too and chastised David. “You didn’t have to pick one with such a clear family resemblance, but yes I see exactly the effect you do.” He hesitated, seeming to pick his words carefully. “I’ve seen this a few times. Does the woman in your building seem unusual?”

  “She seems to always be afraid and very timid. She scurries back in her room if anyone is about.”

  Uncle nodded, unsurprised. “I’ve seen that on people who were mistreated. It says more about the other people in her life than her. Unfortunately I’ve seen it on children. It isn’t something that has to take a long time to appear.”

  “It makes me wonder,” David said. “I haven’t seen her have any visitors. I wonder if her family might show the same signs as the merchants you pointed out and warned me about in the market?”

  “They probably share at least some of those traits, if they affected her like that.”

  David’s phone vibrated, which surprised h
im, because nobody had ever called him in Djibouti but Uncle who was sitting at the table with him. It was his nephew, Ibrahim, calling on the family phone, to speak with Uncle.

  David just passed the phone to uncle who did more listening than speaking.

  “Do you have your passport with you?” Uncle asked as he handed the phone back.

  “Always, you never know,” David declared.

  “Indeed, well never is now. My nephew has sufficient connections to be warned there is a political storm gathering tonight. He advises going straight to the airport and taking the first flight out. It isn’t safe for foreigners.”

  “Let me see what kind of connections I can get,” David said, picking the phone up to consult again.

  Before he could start to input anything Uncle reached his hand over and blocked the screen.

  “Now, anywhere safe you can go, not when there are convenient connections.”

  “It’s that bad?” David asked.

  “Bad enough not to go back and get your things from your apartment,” Uncle insisted. “Let me have your phone again and I’ll call a car. Better now that they hear a local accent and name.”

  David listened as Uncle asked for a taxi in Amharic and gave his name. He kept the phone.

  “I shall ride to the airport with you in case anyone thinks to impede you,” Uncle insisted.

  “Thank you for your care,” David said.

  “I owe your father and do not want to see your talent extinguished,” Uncle said. “Finish your pizza and drink. You don’t know where you will go or eat next. The car will be a few minutes still.” He followed his own advice and had another slice.

  Chapter 14

  The phone buzzed again and Uncle said a single word into it. “Let me speak to the driver,” Uncle warned. “Best that he not remember your accent. Nothing we can do about your face. Do you have a few large bank notes?”