Marching Powder

by Rusty Young

  Yasheeda later explained that Sharon was angry with her for disrupting their travel plans. They had originally planned to catch a bus south with some other Israeli friends to see Potosí, the highest town in the world. The main attraction there is the ancient mines where workers still slave under the same conditions they suffered hundreds of years ago – breaking the hard rock using hammers and chisels with nothing more than a candle on their helmets for light, then carrying the sacks of broken rocks on their backs up to the surface through the dangerous mine shafts that are filled with toxic gases.

  Afterwards, the group had planned to make a tour of the Salar of Uyuni, which is a salt lake that evaporated completely, leaving thousands of square miles of salt crystal. Although I had never been there, I had seen photos of this incredible place. It is flat and white as far as the eye can see and many people have become lost out there, because there are no roads and it is completely empty except for the pure white of hard-packed salt.

  Yasheeda didn’t want to leave right then; she wanted to spend a few more days in La Paz. The Potosí mines and the salt plains of Uyuni would still be there next month, but it wasn’t every day you could live in a prison. It was the experience of a lifetime. Sharon started yelling, saying that she and the others weren’t prepared to wait. She left the prison, even angrier than when she had arrived. We waved goodbye to her from inside the gates, but she didn’t look back. I felt a little sorry for her, but I was also glad that Yasheeda was going to stay. I was really starting to like her – a lot. Besides, they could meet up in a week or so and go travelling together again then.

  Yasheeda stayed that night and the next, and then all the following week. Sometimes she left during the day to check her email and visit friends staying at El Lobo, but she would always return with provisions and small gifts for me. After ten days, she was friends with all the guards and had moved her belongings out of the hostel and into my room. We started living together in prison, sharing my single bed and eventually negotiated a weekly rate with the major, which worked out to be only slightly more expensive than the hostel she had been staying in.

  Yasheeda’s friends came back from the Salar of Uyuni tour two weeks after she had moved in with me. Their next adventure was going to be a downhill bike ride to a town called Coroico. Yasheeda had to go with them because they had planned this trip together back in Israel and she felt she couldn’t let them down. She kept apologising and saying that she wanted to stay with me, but I could tell that, deep down, she was quite excited about going. I didn’t want her to leave, but I also knew that I had no right to ask her to stay. She was young and beautiful and free, and she was in Bolivia for a holiday, not to live in prison.

  ‘OK, then. Goodbye. Have fun,’ I tried not to sound sad.

  ‘Don’t say that, Tommy.’

  ‘Don’t say what?’

  ‘Goodbye. Never say “goodbye”, Tommy. I don’t believe in goodbyes. Goodbye is too permanent. You should always say “Hasta luego”, like the Bolivians do. That way you will always meet up again sometime. Even if it’s a long time in the future, you’ll always meet again. One day, at least.’

  ‘OK, then. Hasta luego.’

  Yasheeda was away for exactly six-and-a-half days that first trip. I almost went out of my mind worrying about her. The bike ride was only supposed to take half a day, then the group had planned to spend the night in a hotel, wander around the town in the morning and come back to La Paz the following afternoon. However, she didn’t arrive at the prison and she didn’t call my mobile phone. I left it on the whole time and I must have checked the dial tone a hundred times to make sure the phone was working.

  The road down to Coroico was officially the most dangerous road in the world; it twisted and turned along sheer cliff faces that dropped thousands of feet into the valleys below. In most parts, the dirt track was barely wide enough for one vehicle, but since it was the only road linking the town to La Paz, vehicles travelled in both directions. There was a fatal accident every single week. In fact, deaths on the road were so common that the media often didn’t bother reporting them.

  Nevertheless, I watched the news closely for accidents. On the fourth morning, I found a small article saying that a minibus had gone over the edge in the fog, killing eight people. The paper didn’t mention if there were any foreigners involved, or even which direction the minibus was travelling. I rang the newspaper and television stations to try to find out. No one knew anything.

  Eventually, Yasheeda turned up at the prison, tanned and smiling, like nothing had happened. I was so happy to see her and so relieved that she was alive, but I was angry with her. I was also angry with myself for letting myself think about her so much.

  ‘Did you miss me?’ she asked.

  ‘A little bit,’ I answered, not wanting to let on just how much she had put me through.

  ‘Ohhh.’ She appeared to be disappointed. ‘Only a little bit?’

  ‘No. A lot. I missed you a lot.’

  ‘That’s better,’ she said, hugging me. ‘We were having such a good time. You should be grateful I came back at all! The others are still down there. I came back especially for you.’

  I doubted that was true. I didn’t believe it until the next day.

  18

  HAPPY BIRTHDAY

  When I came back from the bathroom the following morning, I got the shock of my life. At first, I thought I had walked into the wrong cell by mistake. There were about ten people, sitting around a table, wearing those party hats that are made of coloured tissue paper. They all looked up at me when they heard the door open.

  ‘I’m so sorry. Perdón,’ I mumbled, backing out into the corridor.

  ‘¡FELIZ CUMPLEAÑOS!’ they shouted at the tops of their voices.

  It was only then that I recognised Jack, sitting there with his dark sunglasses on. And there was Carlos, with his wife next to him. And Ricardo. And most incredibly, up the far end of the table, sat Sylvia Venables, my ‘angel’ from the Anglican Church. She smiled at me and blew on her plastic party whistle, the type with paper that unravels when you blow into it.

  Without warning, Yasheeda sprang out from behind the door. ‘Surprise!’ she yelled, kissing me on the lips and pushing me into a chair. ‘You get to sit here at the head of the table, since you’re the guest of honour.’

  On the table in front of me sat a massive birthday cake. It was my birthday! I had completely forgotten about it. My birthday had always been important to me on the outside, but the thought of celebrating it in prison that year had made me deliberately wipe it from memory. However, Yasheeda hadn’t forgotten. I couldn’t remember when I had told her.

  ‘I’m sorry, Tommy,’ she apologised, lighting the candles. ‘I didn’t know how many candles to buy. How old are you?’

  I still hadn’t said a word. I was too stunned. I just sat there, looking around me.

  In the time it had taken for me to walk down the stairs, take a shower and then return to my room, Yasheeda had completely transformed the entire space. She had put all my clothes away, made my bed, cleaned and tidied everything and moved all my furniture around to new positions. The bed was now up against the opposite wall, the table was in the centre of the room, the posters had been swapped over, and there were streamers and decorations dangling from the roof. It was no wonder I hadn’t recognised my own room.

  On top of that, she had managed to have all my friends arrive without me so much as suspecting. She could hardly speak Spanish, so I don’t know how she had organised for the guests to be there exactly on time, or how she had known where to contact Sylvia. But she had.

  ‘So. Do you like it?’ Yasheeda asked, pointing at the new furniture arrangement. However, I still couldn’t answer. I was speechless. Luckily, Ricardo came to my rescue.

  ‘Well. Come on, Thomas. What do you think of your new décor?’ he demanded, doing his gay interior designer act again.

  Everyone laughed, but my eyes filled with tears. I didn’t know what
to say. No one had ever done anything like this for me before. Whenever I’d had a party on the outside, I’d had to buy the cake, invite the guests and do all the organising. But here I was, in a prison on the other side of the world where I barely knew anyone, the least likely place for anyone to celebrate my birthday, and Yasheeda had done all this for me.

  ‘Happy birthday, Tommy,’ she said when she had finished lighting all the candles, kissing me again.

  ‘But … but how did you know?’ I finally managed to stammer. No one in the prison knew.

  ‘Oh, come on! Where’s your memory gone, Mr Scorpio?’ she teased. Then I remembered the conversation we had had about star signs on the night we’d met. ‘That’s right. Now you remember?’ she said, seeing the recognition register in my eyes.

  ‘Now, blow out the candles and make a wish,’ urged Sylvia. ‘And don’t tell anyone, or it won’t come true.’

  I did as I was told and made a wish. Then they made me cut the cake. When the knife came out with crumbs on it, I had to kiss the prettiest girl in the room. I stood up and went around to give Sylvia a big kiss. Her pale cheeks turned bright red. The other guests thought this was hilarious.

  ‘Stop it, Thomas,’ she protested. ‘Get your hands off me. I’m a religious woman and I’m old enough to be your mother. I don’t dare to think what you may have wished for when you cut that cake.’ Sylvia had a wicked sense of humour for someone who was the wife of an Anglican bishop.

  We were all in high spirits after that, laughing and making jokes, but no one was higher than Jack, who I suspect was having an extra party of his own on the side. When I took the dirty plates back into the kitchen, he followed me. I could tell that he wanted to say something, but he was too nervous.

  ‘Thomas. I … I just wanted to tell you that … well … you know what I wanted to tell you,’ he said, reaching into the secret pocket sewn into the lining of his jeans. ‘I got you a little present.’

  ‘Not here, Jack!’ I warned him, as he started opening up the small packet of cocaine.

  ‘No one will see us,’ he whispered. ‘Just a quick little puntito. It’s good stuff.’

  ‘Not while everyone’s still here. Try and be a bit considerate, Jack.’

  Jack looked down, completely ashamed. ‘No. You’re completely right, Thomas. It’s very rude of me. I’m sorry. It was very selfish of me.’

  ‘That’s OK. You don’t have to apologise. I was mainly thinking of Sylvia.’

  With that, Jack pricked up his ears. ‘I didn’t know Sylvia did coke!’ he exclaimed. ‘There’s probably enough for her, too. But only her. There’s not enough for everyone. So, we’ll have to do it carefully. Don’t tell Ricardo. You give Sylvia the signal and I’ll –’

  ‘Jack!’ I interrupted him.

  ‘Oh. I’m sorry. OK. Yes, you’re completely right. Sorry. I thought you meant …’

  The party itself was a quiet affair. Because of Sylvia, we didn’t buy any alcohol. She was now like a mother to me, so I didn’t want her to think that I drank or did drugs in prison. Besides, we managed to have a lot of fun without drinking.

  The guests departed just before lunchtime, and then everything went back to being really quiet. Jack stayed behind for a few minutes, wanting to do some coke, but I was already happy and didn’t want to risk ruining it. He told me I was an ungrateful friend and took back the present he’d given me. He even did a few lines in front of me to show me what I was missing out on. Eventually, he took the hint and left also, leaving Yasheeda and me alone in the room at last. We lay down on my bed.

  ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t afford to get you a proper present, Tommy,’ she said. ‘I’m running out of money. I don’t know how I’m going to afford Peru. But did you like your party?’

  I nodded and looked around the room again, noting with approval all the changes she had made. With only a minimum of effort, Yasheeda had succeeded in making the whole place feel new. Once more, I didn’t trust myself to speak. It was the best present anyone had ever given me.

  Yasheeda didn’t need much sleep. From the moment she first opened her eyes in the morning, she was wide awake and full of energy. I, on the other hand, was always sleepy. Even when I didn’t drink or take coke, I liked to sleep in. The morning after my birthday was no exception. We had gone to bed early, but I was still tired and wanted to catch up on some rest. However, she wouldn’t let me.

  ‘Tommy. Are you awake?’ she asked, leaning across my body in order to light the candle. I never let her turn the lights on or open the window until I was ready.

  ‘Mmmmm. I wasn’t. But I am now.’

  ‘Well. Come on then. Tell me!’

  ‘Tell you what?’ I was still half asleep.

  ‘What you wished for.’ It was way too early to play her guessing games, but that was another of her tricks; she would sometimes wake me up by asking me lots of questions that I had to think about.

  ‘What I wished for when?’

  ‘When you blew out the candles.’ She was always doing that. Her mind went all over the place and often she’d come out with something that she was thinking about, assuming that I would automatically know what it was. Or she would suddenly decide to continue on from the middle of a conversation we’d had hours, or even days, before, but hadn’t mentioned since.

  ‘I can’t tell you. Remember? Or it won’t come true.’ She had succeeded – I was awake now.

  ‘That’s OK. You don’t have to tell me, Tommy. I already know anyway.’ Now that she had my eyes open, Yasheeda clambered on top of me, kissing my ears playfully.

  ‘All right. What was it, then?’

  ‘To get out of prison.’

  ‘No. Wrong.’

  ‘Yes. Right. Don’t lie to me, mister.’ She slapped me lightly across the face, pretending to be angry. ‘What else could you possibly want more?’

  ‘No. Wrong.’ I grabbed her wrist to stop her hitting me again and rubbed my cheek where she had slapped me, pretending it was sore.

  ‘Yes! Right. Of course, I’m right. I know you, Tommy. That’s what you would have wished for. And I can tell when you’re lying, too,’ she reprimanded me, shaking her finger in my face. ‘So, don’t even try it.’

  Yasheeda could often guess what I was thinking, but on that occasion she was wrong. However, I couldn’t tell her the truth. My wish hadn’t been to be released from prison – I had wished for the first thing that had come into my mind and it was something I wanted even more than being allowed to go free. I had wished that she would stay with me forever. I didn’t care where we were. Even if it meant being in prison, I just wanted her to be there next to me.

  I couldn’t say anything, though; in three days, she was leaving for Peru with Sharon. Seeing Machu Picchu and doing the Inca trail had been the whole reason behind them choosing South America. They’d had the trip planned for months and she couldn’t break her promise.

  ‘How long will you be gone?’

  ‘I don’t know, exactly. Maybe a month or two,’ she answered, cautiously. Then, sensing my reaction, she added, ‘But don’t worry. I’ll come back for you, Tommy.’

  ‘Do you promise?’

  ‘Of course, I promise. I came back last time, didn’t I?’

  19

  CHRISTMAS IN PRISON

  After Yasheeda left, I tried my hardest not to think about her, but it was impossible. Although we had only been together for five weeks, it felt like a lot longer because we had spent almost every minute of every day together and I was already used to having her around. I took the batteries out of my clock because I found that watching the hours go by made things go slower. Besides, what was the point of keeping track of time in prison? Without her, the only thing I had to do each day was report for the morning lista, and for that they always sounded a bell.

  Basically, my life went back to being exactly the same as it was before we had met, only now it was worse because I had had a taste of what it was like to be happy again. I got back into my old routine, s
pending the days in my room and keeping myself as busy as possible with all the things I could do to take up time. But even without the ticking clock to remind me, each day passed very slowly.

  After roll call, I slept for as long as possible and then took a long time over my grooming – showering, shaving, doing my hair and rubbing skin cream into my face. Next, I would clean the room for at least an hour. It was never really dirty because I never did anything that made any mess, so after a while I usually became bored. If I smoked a joint beforehand it made things a lot more fun because I would forget where I had put things and would have to spend ages trying to find them again. After cleaning and smoking, I always had a big appetite, especially if I hadn’t eaten breakfast. I still loved preparing and cooking food, but it wasn’t as enjoyable cooking a meal for only one person and sitting alone to eat it.

  One thing I really liked to do was watch my favourite Latin talk show, Laura. The program was the same every single day, but it always made me laugh and I never missed it. Laura is a nice little middle-aged woman who invites couples to appear on national TV in front of a live audience and then asks them if they love each other.

  ‘Yes, truly. Forever. Until I die,’ they always answer. ‘I couldn’t be with anyone else. Never. Not even if you paid me.’

  Laura then points to a big television screen that shows video footage of the man being unfaithful, and all hell breaks loose. The girlfriend starts screaming and attacking her boyfriend, but they calm her down and the boyfriend apologises for what he has done.

  ‘That was a mistake,’ he says. ‘I’m so sorry. You’re the only one. It was only the once with that girl. It didn’t mean anything. I love you so much.’

  Then Laura raises her eyebrows as if to say, ‘Really? Is that so?’ and again points to the big screen, which shows video footage of the man being unfaithful again, this time with another woman. The girlfriend starts going really crazy, breaking furniture in the process. Eventually, the security guards have to escort her off stage, while the audience cheers her and boos the boyfriend. Meanwhile, Laura gets the third tape cued up, just in case.