Chris Abani - The Secret History of Las Vegas

With that, Sunil picked up the receiver and dialed the guard. After hanging up he said to Water: You realize I cannot let you go now.

Water just smiled.

I’ll see you soon, my love, Fred whispered to Water, loud enough for Sunil to hear. With that she followed the guard out, without a backward glance.

See you around, Doc, Water said. Or maybe you won’t. Remember, we are the witchdoctor. Laughing, he followed the security guard out.

When they left, Sunil walked back to his desk and poured another drink. He carried it over to the wall of zebu. Maybe Asia had been right. Maybe it was some tarot that he had unconsciously assembled. Too bad he couldn’t read it.

To you, Asia, he said, raising his glass. I hope you are safe.

He downed the drink, straightened his clothes, and headed out to see Brewster. As he waited for the elevator, his cell rang. It was Sheila’s number.

Sheila, he said, I’ve been worried about you.

It’s me, Sunil, Eskia said.

You fokker! I’ll kill you.

Someone will die today, that’s for sure, Eskia said. And if you don’t want it to be Sheila, you had better come downstairs now. I’ll be waiting.

Don’t harm her, you shit. She had nothing do with this.

And Jan? What did she have to do with anything?

Why now, Eskia?

If you’re not here in ten minutes I’m leaving with Sheila.

Don’t harm her. I’m getting into the elevator now.

Sunil hung up and rode down to the lobby. In the parking lot, Salazar watched Eskia start up his car and pull up to the front of the institute. He saw Sunil come out and get into Eskia’s car. As they drove off, Salazar started up the Bug and followed.

By her car, Fred lit up a cigarette and watched the cars leave. She glanced at her watch. It was midafternoon. It wouldn’t be long now. She’d better get going. She pulled her car around to the back of the institute, where deliveries were made. A Dumpster hid her car from view.

She settled down to wait. Water should be out anytime now.

Behind them, the sun was burning a hole in Vegas with the magnifying glass of the MGM. Sunil’s right hand was secured to the door handle with a zip tie.

Just in case you think about escaping, Eskia said.

He did it as soon as Sunil sat down, before he had a moment to realize that Sheila wasn’t in the car. As they headed west, Sunil pulled at the door.

Where is Sheila?

I don’t have her, Eskia said. She was just the lure.

Where are we going?

For a ride. Somewhere private where we can talk honestly.

You could have just walked up to me and shot me anytime, Sunil said.

And how would that have been any fun?

You stole the disk from my place, Sunil said. Do you plan on selling the contents? If so, good luck with that; it’s password protected.

I don’t need luck. I have you. I was trained to be like your friend Eugene. You will tell me everything.

Eugene wasn’t my friend, Sunil said.

How could you work for him, harming your own people? Give up every last shred of dignity to serve those killers. But you were not alone in that particular weakness, and thanks to the humanity of our leaders like Madiba and Tutu we forgave scum like you. But I will never forgive you for Jan.

Do you think that’s what Jan would want?

If you speak her name again I will shoot you right here, so help me God.

Something in his tone told Sunil he wasn’t kidding. Fine, he said. But can you at least tell me where we are going?

To your reckoning. Now, shut up while I drive.

Behind them Salazar took swigs from the bottle of whiskey in his jacket pocket. He had to keep reminding himself that the coffee cup, though still warm, was not full of coffee.

Slowly Vegas slid behind them like a mirage and was soon swallowed up by desert and sand. The sun was tilting west.

Sheila stood by the slot machines as she waited in line for Starbucks. It had never bothered her before, but now the tackiness of Vegas felt like a layer of dirt she couldn’t quite wash off.

Really, did there need to be gambling in the airport? But that was the way of Vegas. To wring you dry and then send you off poor and broken but still full of hope — enough so that you would come back to lose, or win, depending on the fates.

While she waited, she listened to Sunil’s message again. Typically he waited a full day to return her calls and when he did he tried to make it sound like there was something other than his tardiness involved.

Double macchiato, she said to the overly cheerful barista.

What size?

Medium.

Grande it is.

Sheila smiled. Starbucks Italian — its own special language. She moved down to the other end of the coffee bar. In a few minutes she was shaking fake sugar into her cup.

She should call Sunil. He sounded so worried. But when she dialed, it rang and rang. No answer.

Typical, she thought. She was going to hang up without leaving a message, but at the last minute she changed her mind.

Hi, Sunil, it’s Sheila. I’m at the airport. I decided to leave a day early for Cape Town. I met Asia. She seems nice. So, eh, unless there’s something that needs my attention, I’m going to be boarding in a couple of hours. Okay, I’m going to stop rambling now. Call me. It’ll be nice to hear your voice before I leave.

She hung up. In the corner by the vending machines a woman had just won on the penny slots. Sheila sighed. She’d never felt so alone.

You should let me answer my phone, Sunil said. If I don’t, it will raise suspicions.

Eskia laughed.

You overestimate your own importance, he said. No one’s looking for you. And in a couple of hours I’ll be done with you, and by tomorrow the coyotes will have done with you too if you’re lucky.

Will killing me change anything? Bring Jan back?

Don’t try to work me, Sunil.

The things I did, you did, the people who died, that was a different time, Eskia. We were different people then. Hasn’t there been enough unnecessary death? All of us from that time, we have so much to atone for, so much to forgive. Can you really handle any more?

Eskia laughed: You don’t understand anything. It didn’t stop for me. I still do what I did then. I still clean up the mess of spineless men like you. I am still fighting the war, Sunil. It didn’t end just because Madiba was freed and the world congratulated itself. It’s still going on; the Boer are still at war with us, and we with them. You will never know the depth of my sacrifice. What I have given up for the ideal of a free and equal South Africa. The sacrifices I made, I made not just for that ideal. I made them for love, for the love of a particular woman. Jan was that woman. And what you and your friends did in Vlakplaas took that away from me, demeaned everything I gave, made all the blood on my hands meaningless. When you took Jan, you took my grace. But your death will buy back my meaning. You should feel honored that you will be my Isaac and I your Abraham.

Listen to yourself, Sunil said, and there was something like pity in his voice.

I think we’re being followed, Eskia said, abruptly changing the conversation. Yes, he said, we are. He pulled off onto the shoulder, the tires throwing up small pebbles.

Salazar smiled. That old trick, he thought, shooting by, pretending to go on. When Eskia pulled back onto the road, he could still see him in the rearview mirror. Cat and mouse, Salazar said. He liked that. I can still follow you from up here, he said.

Eskia, Sunil said. There is still time to stop.

Stop?

You can’t believe all that juvenile shit about giving so much for South Africa’s freedom just so you could be married to a white woman legally? That is the depth of self-delusion. You may have given up a lot for love, but it wasn’t for romantic love. It wasn’t. And don’t you think the rest of us paid a huge price? What is it with all this one-upping of trauma? That’s all the new South Africa seems to be about. Who suffered more, those who went to prison or those who stayed out, those who lost loved ones or those who didn’t. On and on, tallying an impossible math.