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The Prime Minister's Daughter

Page 11

by William Manchee


  Chapter 11

   

  Kevin saw a receptionist seated just inside the doorway. He paused a second to look at the beautiful interior of the building, then proceeded to her station. She looked up and smiled at him.

  "Hi, I'm Kevin Wells. I'm having some trouble making connections with the Prime Minister. I wonder if you could help me out?"

  "Did you say Kevin Wells?"

  "Yes."

  "Oh, thank God! Everyone's been looking for you. I've already had three calls in the last hour. Sit down. Let me tell the Ambassador you're here. Oh, what a relief."

  The receptionist punched four digits on her telephone and waited.

  "Sir, he's here. Kevin Wells is sitting right here. He just walked in," the receptionist smiled gleefully at Kevin. "He's coming up to get you. Where in God's name have you been? Everyone has been worried sick about you."

  Kevin looked to the left when he heard the floor creak as the Ambassador walked briskly into the reception area. He was a tall, heavyset man with gray hair and a round face. He was flanked by two aides, and Sharad Mishratt.

  "Mr. Wells. I am so relieved to see you. There's been a nationwide search for you. We feared you had been kidnaped."

  "Kidnaped? Oh, no."

  "Well, where have you been?"

  "When I arrived yesterday, no one was there to meet me so I got a cab and went to the Prime Minister's house. They told me to come back in the morning. I had the cab driver take me somewhere to eat."

  "We heard the guard turned you away last night. He's already been demoted for such stupidity."

  "Demoted? Oh, that wasn't necessary."

  "So where did you stay? We checked all the hotels."

  "All the hotels were full, so the cab driver took pity on me and let me crash at his place."

  "You've got to be joking? Who was this cab driver?"

  "Gee, I don't know. He had some African name. I never did quite catch it."

  "This is unbelievable. If the wrong people had found out you were out there alone, you could have been killed."

  "Killed? Who would want to kill me?"

  "Well, I'm afraid the FBI didn't come totally clean with you, Kevin. I think you have a right to know though, since it's your life on the line here."

  "Know what?"

  "There are a lot of people here in Trinidad, who would like to see you dead. You see, there's a new anti-American political party that's got everybody stirred up over the Caribbean Free Trade Agreement. It's believed they were responsible for the attack on the Prime Minister's life. You're the only one who can prove the connection, so they would like you dead."

  "Oh wonderful! No one told me my life would be in danger! My parents would never have let me come if they had known that."

  "If you would like, I'll put you on the next plane back to Miami."

  Kevin thought for a brief moment of Kiran and how close he was to being with her. He didn’t feel scared anymore–now that he was at the embassy. I can’t leave without getting to know Kiran. What if she is the woman I’m meant to be with for the rest of my life?

  "Well, the government can protect me, can't they?" he heard himself say.

  Sharad spoke up. "Absolutely, Mr. Wells. Our government will take the utmost precaution to see that you're safe at all times."

  "Forgive me, Kevin," the Ambassador said. "This is Sharad Mishratt, Trinidad's Attorney General. He's been up all night supervising the search for you."

  The Attorney General bowed slightly and continued. "The Prime Minister has instructed me to tell you, so you will feel completely safe, that he will have his two daughters, Kiran and Deviane, travel with you at all times."

  Kevin's eyes lit up. At all times? "What are we waiting for then? Let's go."

  The Attorney General smiled triumphantly and motioned for one of his men to take Kevin's luggage. Kevin followed them outside to several black Mercedes parked on the side of the embassy grounds. Kevin got in the back seat of one of the cars with the Attorney General, and they were off.

  The three cars drove north, in the direction of the Prime Minister's residence. They traveled out of downtown, past Queen's Park. After fifteen minutes or so, they arrived at the Prime Minister's home. The steel gates opened and the car drove into the garage. Kevin was excited, as he knew he was close to seeing Kiran. It wouldn't be long now until they were together.

  "Come on in, Kevin,” Sharad said. “The Prime Minister is waiting for you in his office."

  Kevin followed Sharad through the kitchen, down a hallway and into the Prime Minister's office. The Prime Minister jumped to his feet as Kevin walked in.

  "Oh, my God! Mr. Wells, you don't know how happy I am to see you. We had feared the worst. Are you okay?"

  "Sure, I'm fine."

  "I heard a taxi driver kept you last night?"

  "Yes, he and his family were very nice."

  "You must tell me who he is, so I can thank him personally for keeping you safe."

  "Well, I'd like to, but I don't remember his name. It was a kind of a different name. I just don't remember it."

  "Well, could you point out where he lives?"

  Kevin laughed.

  "Are you kidding? I don’t know Port of Spain at all and he went on so many different streets. There's no way I could ever find it again."

  "Well, that's a shame. I should have liked to reward him." The Prime Minister thought for a second and then said, "Well, Sharad, we won't be needing you until Monday, so you may go. Thank you for working so hard to find Mr. Wells. Go home and go to bed."

  "Thank you. I'll do that."

  Sharad shook Kevin's hand, nodded to the Prime Minister and then left.

  "We've planned a full weekend for you here in Trinidad, Mr. Wells. My daughters will accompany you around Port of Spain. I think they are even going to take you to the beach. You do like to swim, don't you?"

  "Oh yes, absolutely. As a matter of fact, I'm on the swim team at my high school."

  "Are you? Then I won't need to send along a lifeguard, I guess? Ha! Ha!"

  "No, I wouldn't think so."

  "What's your event? Is that what you call it? I followed the swim team a little at Harvard, when I was there in the late sixties."

  "Breast stroke mainly, but I do a little diving too."

  "Oh, I bet the girls would like to see you dive. Maybe you can put on a little exhibition for us at the pool, before you leave?"

  "Sure, if you'd like."

  "Fine. You must be tired. Why don't I have someone take your bags to the guest room so you can get settled and take a nap before lunch? I think the girls have something arranged for this afternoon."

  Kevin smiled and replied, "Thank you. I'm looking forward to seeing your wife and daughters."

  "Good then, lunch will be at twelve-thirty. See you then."

  "Great."

  The Prime Minister pushed a button on his desk. Before long, a servant came and showed Kevin to his room. He deposited his luggage next to the bed and looked around. It was a spacious room, ornately decorated in Indian decor, with a private bathroom attached. Kevin looked at his watch and noted it was ten-thirty a.m. He figured he had plenty of time until lunch, so as the Prime Minister had suggested, he lay down for a nap. Not wanting to be late for lunch, he set the alarm on his watch for noon. Kevin didn't realize how tired he was until his head hit the pillow. He fell asleep immediately.

  As he drifted from his conscious state he found himself back in Dallas at Medical City. He watched the Ray Mohammed enter the Prime Minister’s room and took out after him. As he pushed the door open he heard a muffled shot. Then he found himself staring down the barrel of the assassin’s gun. He felt the sting of the bullet and an excruciating pain in his lung. He couldn’t breathe, he began to gasp for air. When he opened his eyes he looked up and saw Ray Mohammed ready to plunge a knife into his heart. “No! Don’t do it! Please. . . . .” Beep! . . . Beep! . . . Beep!

  Kevin sat up, shaking and breathing heavily.
After shutting off his watch, he looked around the strange room. He shook his head and breathed a sigh of relief. It was only a dream. Looking down at his watch, he confirmed it was noon. He hustled out of bed and headed for the shower. The pressure wasn't nearly as strong as it was back home, so he made it a little hotter than usual. As the steaming water ran over his body, his head began to clear and his thoughts turned to seeing Kiran. Then a sudden sinking feeling overcame him. What if she doesn’t like me? Even if she does like me, what if she doesn't love me the way I love her?

  When he was finished with his shower, he quickly dressed and headed downstairs to the dining room. On the way he heard a strange kind of singing coming from a door slightly ajar. He peered inside. A cute young girl, about his age, was seated at a desk watching a small TV set. Kevin didn't recognize her but figured it must be Kiran's sister. Curious as to what she was watching he coughed. She jumped.

  "Hello," Kevin said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  The girl smiled and stood up. "Kevin. Hi. . . . I can call you Kevin, can't I?" she asked.

  "Of course, you must be–?"

  "Deviane," she advised. "I'm so glad you finally got here. We were worried sick about you yesterday. Everyone thought the NDC had kidnaped you."

  "I'm sorry I caused everyone so much concern. . . . What are you listening to?”

  ”It’s that maggot, Malcolm Mann. He’s having a big rally at King George V Park.”

  “Oh, who’s Malcolm Mann?”

  “He’s the leader of the National Defense Coalition.”

  “Oh, the NDC.”

  “Right. I don’t know how he put a political party together so fast. It seems to have sprung up overnight–right about the time Daddy announced he would be spearheading the drive for a Caribbean Free Trade Agreement.”

  “You’re interested in politics, I take it?’‘

  “Not by choice, but since the assassination attempt, I’m very interested in my father’s enemies.”

  “I can imagine. So, what do you know about this Malcolm Mann guy?”

  “He’s a leftist fanatic, an admitted Cuban sympathizer and a no good hoodlum. Everyone knows he’s into organized crime, gambling and drug dealing. The problem is he’s a great orator and he knows how to manipulate a crowd.”

  Yelling and screaming came from the small TV set. Kevin and Deviane looked at it. Deviane bent over and turned up the sound.

  “What kind of music is that?” Kevin asked.

  “Calypso. It’s our traditional music played by a pan band.”

  The music stopped. Malcolm Mann’s voice echoed over the PA system. Kevin and Deviane listened intently.

  "Friends and fellow patriots. Thank you for coming tonight!" Malcolm said. He held his hand up to his ear and screamed.

   "Ahmad...! Ahmad...! Are you watching this? Do you see the people pouring out into the streets?"

   As the crowd screamed its approval, he continued.

   “This is what the people of Trinidad think of your free trade agreement. . . . Rubbish! Do you think the people are stupid, Ahmad? Do you think they don't understand why America is pushing free trade in the Caribbean? Ha! We know about the American imperialistic snake, Ahmad. Don't we, friends?"

  Many in the crowd yelled, "Yes!"

   "Would America give a damn about Trinidad if it were not for the oil under Cocos Bay?"

   "No!" the crowd yelled in unison.

  "My friends, do you think America is the great democracy of the world? Well, it's a lie! The people of America are but pawns of the big Wall Street Business Cartels. They are brainless couch potatoes who have pawned their minds for giant screen TVs, the Internet, Rolex watches and fancy clothes. The American people are so many billions of dollars in debt to the Cartel that they have become zombies, working two jobs in order to be able to pay Citibank its twenty-one percent interest. Did you know the average American has credit card debt of over twenty-five thousand U.S. Dollars? That's over a quarter million Trinidad dollars! . . . Is this what you want for Trinidad?"

   "No!" The members of the crowd shouted.

   "Citizens of Trinidad, watch out for the American imperialist snake. It comes in the night and feeds on your crops, steals from your storehouses and beguiles your children. Because you don’t see or hear it, you don't fear it, but beware; if you let it, one day it will strangle our Trinidad!"

  "Death to the imperialistic snake!" someone yelled.

  "As you know, we have formed the NDC to protect Trinidad from foreign intrusion. We are dedicated to preserving our traditions, our culture and our true democracy. I say true democracy, because we don't want American styled democracy here in Trinidad. Did you know that in America more than half the people never vote? It's because the people there have come to realize that voting is futile. It doesn't matter if the Republicans or the Democrats are elected, they both do the bidding of the Cartels.

  "Do you know what will happen if you open the door to the crocodiles of Wall Street? They will consume our small businesses and what they don't want they will spit into our bankruptcy courts. They have mountains of capital to work with and their magicians of Madison Avenue will lure our people into believing that only American products are worth having. We won't have a shadow of a chance to compete with them. If we allow free trade, our nation will soon fall, not to tanks and stealth bombers, but to the American imperialistic snake. Take heed, Ahmad. Trinidad is not going to sell out to the devil of the North! The NDC will not allow it!"

  The crowd jumped up yelling and screaming.

  "Listen to the people, Ahmad. They don't want America's fast food, football or their loose women. Isn't that right, comrades? Do you want the Big Mac?"

  "No!" the crowd yelled.

  "Would you like your children to grow up like Ken and Barbie?"

  "Nooo! ..."

  "How about Madonna? Do you want her to be a role model for your daughters?"

  "Nooo! ..."

  "Should we be spending the Sabbath watching American football instead of talking to God?"

  "Nooo! ..."

  "You are right. I thought not. Listen my friends, I have written a little Calypso song to our beloved Prime Minister. It's the least I could do as a memorial to him, since his government will soon be falling like rocks in an earthquake. It's called; Oh Ahmad, You Have Sold Your Soul, and here is how it goes."

  The band started playing and Malcolm began to sing.

   

   Oh Ahmad, now you've sold your soul,

   Just to bring to Trinidad, the damn Super Bowl.

   Why did you bow down with your nose upon the floor?

   You should have just said; No! Do not come ashore.

   

   Why did you forsake, our beloved Trinidad?

   The people are quite shocked, and very, very mad!

   We're just a little island in the Caribbean lake,

   Why did you feed us to the imperialistic snake?

   

   Oh, Ahmad, now you've sold your soul,

   Just to bring to Trinidad, the damn Super Bowl,

   Why did you bow down with your nose upon the floor?

   You should have just said; No! Do not come ashore.

   

   To get yourself elected you pledged equality,

   Freedom of the press, the end of mediocrity,

   Now we know, however, your promises were but a ruse,

   To make you Prime Minister, an office you now abuse.

   

   Oh, Ahmad, now you've sold your soul,

   Just to bring to Trinidad, the damn Super Bowl,

   Why did you bow down with your nose upon the floor?

   You should have just said; No! Do not come ashore.

   

   A hundred years we've prayed, for this wondrous day,

   The Lord would give us, the hope of Cocos Bay,

   Oh, Ahmad, it's time to stop the charade,

   The citizens of
Trinidad, don't want free trade!

   

   "No Free Trade!" the crowd screamed as they came to their feet.

  "No Free Trade! No Free Trade! No Free Trade!"

  Malcolm stopped and took a bow as the crowd roared its approval. The master of ceremonies came to the microphone.

  "Thank you, ladies and gentlemen."

  "No Free Trade!" the crowd continued. "No Free Trade! No Free Trade! No Free Trade!"

  "Thank you, thank you. . . . Ahmad, are you listening?" the master of ceremonies said. "Citizens of Trinidad, Malcolm Mann. Malcolm Mann, a great patriot. Wasn't he fantastic?”

   

  Deviane turned off the radio. “What a bastard. I’d like to riddle his body with bullets.”

  “You think he sent Ray Mohammed to kill your father?”

  “Obviously. . . . He’s the reason you got a bullet in your chest.”

  Kevin shook his head. "Bastard."

  Deviane smiled. "So, how is your injury?"

  “Fine. I've fully recovered, I think. . . . I’ve never heard someone sing a speech before. Is that normal?”

  “Yes, it is a tradition of some of the political parties in Trinidad to voice their concerns in Calypso.”

  “Hmmm. That’s very interesting. So you have to have a good voice to go into politics in this country?”

  Deviane laughed. “It helps, but not everyone campaigns that way. Daddy doesn’t.”

  “Interesting. I guess I’ve got a lot to learn about your country.”

  "I know, it must seem strange to you. … So, I’ve been dying to ask you–How did it feel to be on Leno? I couldn't believe you kissed that slut, Uma Thurman. Did you know she posed for Playboy?"

  "Yes, I heard that, but I wouldn't exactly call her a slut."

  "Any woman who would expose her body to every male pervert in the world is a slut. She makes money off her body, just like a whore. She's a disgrace to every decent woman in the world."

  Kevin gave Deviane a startled look. After a thoughtful moment he replied, "I guess that's true. Since I'm a man, I would tolerate a woman showing off her body more than a woman would, but you're right. She sold her body for money and fame. I'm afraid there's no morality in America anymore. Everything is about money and profit. If it sells, then that makes it okay."

  "I'm afraid it's not just in America. It's all over the world, including Trinidad. It's pretty sad. I wish there was something we could do about it."

  "Me too, but I'm afraid it would be like trying to swim up a river–we’d soon tire and probably drown."

  "I suppose," Deviane replied.

  Kevin gave Deviane a pensive look. He asked, "You couldn't be too much younger than your sister, could you?"

  "We're thirteen months apart."

  "So you're what, seventeen?"

  "Good guess, actually, next month I'll be eighteen."

  "So, Kiran is already nineteen?"

  "That's right, she just had a birthday. How old are you?"

  "I'm eighteen. I should be graduating from high school in a few months, but I've missed so many days of school, I'll probably end up going to summer school."

  "Do you regret what you did?"

  Kevin hesitated and then replied, "No, not really. Actually, it's been kind of exciting."

  Deviane smiled warmly. "You're lucky you didn't get killed. I don’t think I would have been so brave."

  "Well, if I’d had time to think about it, I might have chickened out. Besides, it was the orderly who wrestled the gun away from the assassin."

  “But he wouldn’t have been there and my father would have already been dead had you not risked your life.”

  Kevin shrugged.

  Hearing conversation in the hallway, Kevin and Deviane got up and stepped outside. Kiran and her mother, Anila, were walking down the stairway. Deviane took Kevin’s hand and said, “Come on. It’s time to eat.”

  They hustled down the stairway and entered the dining room. Kiran smiled at seeing Kevin but her smile quickly faded at seeing Deviane holding his hand. Kevin saw the disapproving look and immediately let go of it. The two sisters glared at one another.

  "Kevin, come here. I want to give you a hug," Anila said.

  Kevin did as he was told and put his arms loosely around Anila. She hugged him tightly, kissed him on the cheek and then began to cry.

  "Oh, Kevin, if it wasn’t for you, my Ahmad would be dead. You don't know how many times I've thanked God for bringing you into our lives."

  "Well, I'm just glad I was there at the right time."

  "It was so brave what you did. I told Father Souza to say a special prayer for you at Mass tomorrow. You are Catholic, aren't you?"

  "Yes."

  "Good. I hope you will come to Mass with us."

  "I'd be honored."

  Anila put her hand on Kiran's arm.

  "I see you've met Deviane and you know Kiran, of course."

  "Yes. Hi, Kiran."

  "Hello, Kevin. How are you feeling?"

  "Fine. I've fully recovered, I think."

  "Good. We've been so worried about you, and then you disappeared last night."

  "Well, I'm sorry I had everybody so concerned. I actually had an interesting evening. I stayed in a house about the size of your garage. There were two families living there, with six children."

  "Oh, how dreadful," Kiran said. "I don't know how you could have stood it. I would have died."

  "It wasn't so bad. It was clean and everyone treated me like I was part of the family."

  "You don't have to be rich to be happy," Deviane interjected.

  "Speak for yourself," Kiran laughed.

  "Okay, girls. Let's not get into one of your silly arguments. I'm sure Kevin isn’t interested in listening to you two squabble. Now, everybody sit down, your father should be here soon. Then, we'll eat."

  "So where are we taking Kevin today, Mother?" Deviane asked.

  "Well, I thought we'd go to the Royal Botanical Gardens and the National Museum."

  "What about the beach? I thought we were going to the beach," Kiran said.

  "Not today, darling, we don't have time today. Tomorrow, you girls can take Kevin up to Blanchisseuse Bay, after Mass."

  "That's so far away. Why don't we just go to Maracas Bay?" Kiran asked.

  "It's not so crowded there. It will be safer," Anila replied.

  "Yes, let’s go to Blanchisseuse Bay, so I can show Kevin the caves," Deviane said excitedly.

  "I don't know if you should go in the caves. That might be too dangerous, darling."

  "You've never been in them, Mother. How can you say they're dangerous?"

  "It's dark in the caves, the ground is very rough and there are deep pits and crevices. You could fall and get hurt, even killed."

  "They're not so dangerous. I've been in them a dozen times. Sometimes without a torch."

  "Well, if I’d have known it, I wouldn't have allowed it," Anila replied.

  "That's why I didn't tell you," Deviane laughed.

  "Oh, you're so terrible, Deviane. What am I going to do with you?"

  "Nothing. Just let me take Kevin in the caves."

  "No, we'll save the caves for another time," Anila said. "Anyway, if we were to take Kevin to a cave, we should go to the Aripo caves. They are much larger and more beautiful."

  "Oh yes. Can we do that, Mother?" Deviane asked.

  "I don't know, it's up to Kevin."

  "Kevin, wouldn't you rather go shopping at the mall than go to a stupid cave?" Kiran asked.

  Kevin hesitated and then laughed.

  "Actually, the caves kind of sound interesting, but I'd like go to the mall too. I need to pick up some souvenirs to take back home."

  Deviane smiled and gave Kiran a gleeful look.

  When the Prime Minister arrived and they were all seated, Anila motioned for everyone to be quiet, while she said grace.

  "Bless us, our Lord, for these, our gifts we are about to receive from your bounty.
And thank you, Lord, for delivering Kevin into our lives, and bringing him safely to our table. In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, Amen."

  "Amen. Let's eat, I'm starving," the Prime Minister said. "Kevin, do you like Indian food?"

  "Oh yes, I love it. There's a good Indian restaurant in Dallas called the India Palace. I go there with my mom and dad all the time."

  "Well you’re in for a real treat, Kevin,” Anila said. “We have a wonderful Indian cook. He’ll fix you anything you want."

  “Great, I’m looking forward to it.”

  “So, tell us about yourself, Kevin,” the Prime Minister said. “We want to know all about you.”

  Kevin shrugged. “Well, I’m a biology major at Plano High School. I’m on the debate team and I’m in ROTC.”

  “Excellent, a military man. Do you plan to have a career in the armed forces?”

  “No, I just want to serve my country for a few years.”

  “Ah ha! It must be politics then. I was on the debate team at Harvard. It prepared me well for my political career.”

  “Maybe, I really haven’t decided yet.”

  “Well, you need to make up your mind, Kevin, so you can prepare yourself for your chosen profession. When I was your age I knew I wanted to be Prime Minister and I spent every waking hour preparing myself for the day that I would get that opportunity.”

  Anila looked at the Prime Minister, and said, "Ahmad, you hardly know Kevin. You shouldn't be lecturing him. He's our guest."

  "He saved my life, Anila. Kevin, you don't mind if I treat you like part of the family, do you?"

  "No, not at all,” Kevin replied. “I’ll gladly listen to any advice you have for me.”

  “You just made your first mistake, Kevin,” Kiran said. “Before long Daddy will be running your life.”

  The Prime Minister half smiled and said, “Ah! Did you hear that Kevin? Such disrespect from my own flesh and blood. Would your father let you get away with something like that?”

  Kevin smiled. “Probably, he’s pretty easy going.”

  The Prime Minister stood up and shook his head regretfully. “Well, I’m going to turn these ladies over to you Kevin. I’ve had enough of them for one day. Good luck.”

  “Thank you, Sir,” Kevin said as the Prime Minister left the room.

  After lunch Anila, Kiran, Deviane and three bodyguards accompanied Kevin to the Royal Botanical Gardens. To reach the gardens, it was necessary to climb a steep hill.

   When they reached the top, they stopped and looked down at the spectacular display which included a waterfall, babbling brook, twisting walkways, gigantic trees, bushy shrubs, finely manicured hedges and thousands of brightly colored flowers.

  "Wow! Look at that," Kevin said.

  "Isn't it beautiful?" Anila sighed.

  "I guess so," Kevin said and then smiled at Kiran.

  She returned the smile and then turned to look down into the garden again. Kevin gazed at her soft elegant face and thought back to his dreams about her. She belonged here, surrounded by nature's splendor. He wondered how he was going to capture her heart in the short time he could be with her. After they had walked a little way down into the gardens, they came upon several benches.

  "Let's sit a spell," Anila said. "I'll have one of our security men get us some punch."

  Anila sat down and Kiran took a seat on another bench.

  "Fine," Kevin said and then sat next to Kiran.

  Deviane hesitated and then sat next to her mother.

  "Where do you go to school, Kiran?" Kevin asked.

  "We go to a private Catholic school in town. It's run by a Jesuit order."

  "How long until you graduate?"

  "Actually, I've already graduated."

  "Oh, really? So what are you going to do now?"

  "I'd like to go to college in the United States."

  "Do you know what college you want to go to?"

  "Not yet. Maybe Harvard or Stanford."

  "You have to have good grades to get into colleges like that."

  "Well, one of the benefits of being a Prime Minister's daughter is you can get unlimited access to tutors."

  "Oh, really. Have they helped you a lot?"

  She smiled wryly. "Uh huh. They're a big help–particularly when they get the exam questions ahead of time."

  "Oh, I guess so," Kevin laughed. "So, what will you study?"

  "I don't know. Liberal arts, I guess."

  "Hmm."

  "What are your plans after you graduate?" Kiran asked.

  "I haven't decided if I want to go to law school or medical school. I kind of like politics, so the law would be the best way to go if I wanted to become a politician. Realistically, my political philosophy is not very popular these days, so politics may be out of the question."

  "I’d love to marry a politician. I want to be just like my mother. She has the perfect life."

  "So you said."

  Kiran’s eyes began to sparkle. “Right. I told you that already. . . . My mother knows everyone and they all adore her. She gets to go to all the good parties and social events, of course. Oh, and you should see her clothes."

  "Doesn't she get tired of being in the limelight all the time?"

  "No,” Kiran replied. “She loves it. She likes reading about herself in the newspaper."

  "Yeah, I guess it is kind of neat to pick up a newspaper and see your picture."

  "That's right. You know how that feels now, don't you?" Kiran said.

  "Yeah."

  "Not only does everyone respect and admire my mother, but she's a big help to my father too. She knows everyone of any importance to Trinidad and Tobago. She knows how to get them to do what she wants."

  "Yes, I can imagine. Your mother is quite a woman. I really like her."

  "She likes you a lot, too."

  "I hope so. You know, maybe you and I will end up going to the same school."

  Kiran turned quickly and smiled at Kevin.

  "That would be nice. It would be great to have someone I knew there. If you give me your address before you go, I'll write you when I know for sure where I'm going."

  "Okay. I'm not sure I could get into Harvard or Stanford. The competition to get into those schools is pretty tough."

  "I bet you can."

  "Here are your drinks," a security guard interrupted. He handed Kiran and Kevin a tall glass and then turned to walk away.

  "Thank you," Kevin said.

  Kiran took a sip and then looked up at Kevin.

  "You're going to love Blanchisseuse Bay. It's where lovers go to be alone. Sometimes, if you walk along the shore, you'll stumble across them making love."

  "You're kidding?"

  "No, it's so funny when that happens."

   

   Kevin suddenly imagined Kiran and himself naked on the beach. The warm tropical sun beating down on them as they made love on a blanket of pure white sand. Kiran moaned quietly as Kevin rocked back and forth to the beat of the pounding surf. Suddenly, a wave splashed over them, but they paid it no mind. Kevin lifted himself up slightly and gazed at Kiran's luscious pale breasts. He leaned down and kissed a nipple and then began caressing it with his tongue. She opened her eyes and beckoned him to bring her joy. He thrust himself, harder and harder, deeper and deeper until he felt the tension in her body melt away as she reached a blissful climax.

   

  Kevin sighed, "Oh, God!"

  "What did you say?" Kiran asked.

  "Huh?” Kevin said as he was jerked back to reality. “Oh. . . . Nothing."

  "Okay, kids," Anila said. "It's getting late, let's go see the National Museum now."

  Kevin started to get up, but realized his erotic daydream had made him as hard as a rock. Deviane noticed his plight and giggled. Kevin blushed, sat down and rubbed his chest.

  “What’s wrong?” Kiran asked.

  “Oh, it’s nothing. Sometimes I get a stab of pain in my lung. It will go away in a secon
d.”

  After a moment, he was able to get up and continue on. Anila and Kiran looked at Deviane, wondering what was so funny.

  When they arrived at the National Museum, Kiran and Deviane took Kevin, arm in arm, to the Cazabon exhibit. Anila excused herself to go talk to a friend, who managed the museum. Kevin felt exhilarated with two beautiful women pampering him. For a moment, he thought he was dreaming again, but a sudden twinge in his lung convinced him he was quite conscious.

  Kevin had fully recovered from the gunshot wound, but every once in a while, he felt a sharp pain. The doctors told him that this was a normal part of the healing process and not to worry about it. Nevertheless, it was still painful. When it occurred, he would usually close his eyes and let out an audible groan. Although he managed to restrain himself from groaning this time, Deviane felt the sudden tension in his body.

  "Kevin, are you all right?"

  "Yeah, it's nothing. Just a little lingering pain from the gunshot wound."

  "Do you want to sit down?"

  "No, it's fine."

  Kiran seemed oblivious to Kevin and Deviane's conversation. She had her mind on a handsome young man, who was standing in front of a statue. Kevin noticed her gazing at the lad. He wondered who he was and why she was so interested in him. Deviane pulled on his arm to remind him she was talking to him.

  "That's Roger Harvey, the British ambassador's son. He loves Kiran."

  "What?" Kevin said.

  "He does not," Kiran protested. "We just went to a

  dance together, that's all."

  "Uh huh," Deviane chuckled.

  Kevin felt a jolt of jealousy as he watched Kiran and Roger smiling and flirting with each other. Deviane seemed pleased and pulled Kevin away from Kiran.

  "Go ahead, Kiran. Go see your friend. I'll take Kevin to the Pre-Columbian Exhibit. We'll meet you there later."

  Kevin started to protest and then thought it would be impolite, so he reluctantly followed Deviane down some stairs, into another part of the museum.

  "Did you know Columbus discovered Trinidad, just as he did America?"

  "Oh really? He was a busy guy."

  Deviane smiled and continued.

  "It happened six years after he discovered America. You've had six flags over Texas, right?"

  Kevin suddenly quit thinking about Kiran.

  "What?" he asked.

  "Didn't you have six flags over Texas?"

  "Right."

  "Well we've only had four flags over Trinidad. I bet you can't guess which ones they were?"

  "Hmm. Well, I would say Britain, France and Spain, but I'm clueless on the fourth."

  "The Dutch flag, of course."

  "Oh. Are you a history buff or something?"

  "No, I used to give a tour here."

  "Did you really?"

  "I worked here last summer. It was kind of fun."

  "I always wanted to work at Yellowstone. I love the Rocky Mountains."

  "Oh, I'd love to see the Rocky Mountains. The highest mountain we have here is Mt. Aripo. It's only three thousand feet high."

  "Oh, man. How would you like to go to the top of a fourteen-thousand-foot mountain?"

  "Can you breathe that high up?"

  "Yeah, the air is a little thin, but you get used to it."

  "I'd really love to do that sometime."

  "Well, talk your dad into letting you and Kiran come visit me. I'll take you to Colorado. You'd love it."

  "Would you really?"

  "Of course. It would give me an excuse to go myself. If you come in the winter, I'll teach both of you how to ski."

  As Kevin and Deviane entered the Pre-Columbian Exhibit, they saw that Kiran was already there, waiting patiently.

  "Where have you two been? I've been waiting here five minutes."

  "Kevin just invited me to Texas. He's going to take me to Colorado and teach me how to ski."

  "You're invited too, Kiran." Kevin added.

  Kiran stiffened. “I would never go skiing, it's too dangerous. I don't do things if there is a strong probability of injury."

  "Well, that's okay. A lot of people just come to see the beauty of the mountains in the winter. You can sit by a big fire, drink coffee and relax during the day. At night, they have lots of parties. It's really a beautiful place."

  "Hmm. That could be fun, perhaps."

  As the threesome were about finished viewing the many exhibits contained in the museum, Anila rejoined them.

  "I'm sorry I took so long. I hadn't seen my friend for some time. She insisted I have a cup of tea," Anila said.

  "That's okay, Mother. You timed it perfectly," Kiran said.

  "Well, good. I'm hungry. What do you say we go home and have dinner?"

  "You got my vote," Kevin said. "I'm starving."

   

   

  That night, the Prime Minister was unable to have dinner at home with the family. When he arrived home later that evening, he asked Kevin to join him in his office for a cup of tea. Kevin was curious as to why the Prime Minister wanted to speak with him alone. He figured it was something to do with the lineup on Monday, but he wasn't sure. He wondered if he had done something wrong. He feared the Prime Minister had noticed his keen interest in Kiran and was going to warn him to leave her alone. He was a little scared as he entered the Prime Minister's office.

  "Kevin, come in. Sit down."

  "Good evening, sir."

  "I'm sorry I missed you at dinner. I trust you had a good day?"

  "Oh, yes."

  "Did my family take good care of you?"

  "Absolutely, they pampered me all day. It was wonderful."

  "Good. Well, I called you up here to discuss some serious business. As you know, Sharad will be here Monday morning. He will take you to the prosecutor's office to view a lineup."

  "Right."

  "In the last few weeks, we've learned that this new NDC party was, most likely, behind the assassination attempt."

  "That's what the Ambassador told me."

  "Yes, and Ray Mohammed is the number two man in the NDC."

  "The number two man?"

  "Yes. So if he is indicted, we will have good cause to put an end to the NDC."

  "Well, I hope it all works out."

  "It's all up to you, Kevin. The NDC is full of rats and scoundrels. We must put a stop to them!"

  "If he's the one I saw in Dallas, then I'm sure I'll recognize him."

  "What I'm saying is, if you're not so sure, it’s all right. Go ahead and identify him. We know for sure he’s the one."

  "You want me to lie?"

  "No. No. Of course not, but if there is a little doubt in your mind, I wouldn't worry about it. This man is evil and his party is evil. You would be doing Trinidad a favor if you helped put him behind bars."

  Kevin was silent. An uneasy feeling came over him. For the first time, he wondered what would happen if he couldn't identify the assassin. He'd be a hero if he did, but if he couldn't do it, he could kiss Kiran goodbye.

  "If he looks like his photograph, I'm sure I'll recognize him."

  "Fine. I'm glad we have an understanding."

  Kevin squirmed in his chair. He suddenly thought of Obatala and Ray's innocent children. What would become of them? He wouldn't identify Ray unless he was positive he was the assassin. But what if preserving his integrity meant sacrificing the only woman he might ever love?

  "I couldn't lie, sir. I'm sure you wouldn't want that. I'm just saying I would be really shocked if Ray Mohammed wasn't the assassin. I wouldn't worry about Monday."

  "Of course, I wasn't suggesting–"

  "No, of course not."

  Ahmad studied him for a long moment making Kevin nervous. "So, Anila tells me you've got an eye for Kiran."

  Kevin began to blush.

  "Is it that obvious?"

  "Well, it wasn't to me, but my wife has a keen sense about those things."

  "I do like her a lot, but let me assure–"
r />   "No, it's not necessary. I trust you implicitly. After all, you saved my life, and now you're going to save Trinidad. What better son-in-law could a father ever want for his daughter? If you want Kiran, she's yours. I'll arrange everything."

  Kevin suddenly felt faint. Had he been standing, he would have surely fallen over. Suddenly, his dream had become a reality, but instead of joy, he felt like he'd been hit by an Amtrak train. This isn't the way he wanted to have Kiran. He wanted her to fall in love with him and give him her unconditional love and devotion. If the marriage were arranged, he wouldn't know if she truly loved him. This wouldn’t be the perfect marriage that he had so desperately sought.

  "But, I'm not sure Kiran even likes me, let alone would want to marry me."

  "Well, you needn’t concern yourself about that. She will trust my judgment. If you want her, she’s yours."

   

   

   

 

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