XI
Two hours down a dirt road, after a gravel road and a long
stretch of bad highway, they came upon a town of tents. Not so much
a town, really. More like a camp– something obviously capable of
moving quickly.
“Interesting,” said Bill, as the jeep in front of them slowed to a
stop. There were three 20-foot by 40-foot tents on the left side of the
road and two on the right. Further back on the right was a smaller
tent, maybe 20 by 20.
Jacque and Maria emerged from their jeep and then Maria turned
and signaled to the Americans. Get out.
Bill nodded to Maria and smiled, like he expected her to hop into
bed with him.
She turned and started walking towards the smallest of the tents.
Jacque, half a step behind, quickly caught up and went with her. Bill
and Eke followed. When they reached the tent, Bill and Eke smiled at the guards
outside the tent. The guards stepped aside when they saw Jacque
and Maria. They did not smile back at the Americans.
As they approached the door to the tent, Maria announced them.
“General, theyre here.” And she pulled back the flap door to the tent.
Before they moved a step, they heard a loud, baritone voice,
“Come in.” The voice resonated through the cloth. It wasnt muffled
hardly at all. As they walked through the door, a large man rose from
behind a long, rectangular table. “Good evening gentleman,” he said.
“My name is General Guillermo Sanchez. Wont you please join me?”
He motioned for them to sit. The generals English had a pronounced
South American accent, but it was clear and had singsong
enunciation that was still somehow mechanical – especially because
of his baritone. “Welcome to Honduras.”
Then the grizzled warrior turned to Jacque and Maria. “Well
done,” he said. “The Americans will join you for diner later.” And
Jacque and Maria left the tent, leaving Bill and Eke alone with the
man.
As they took seats and Bill said, “Its nice to meet you, General,”
Eke noticed on the long table a bottle next to a stack of documents. His heart jumped as he saw the general reach for the bottle. “Drink?
he asked.
Drink? Now theres a question. This was, after all, Honduras and
the man in front of him was a general and this was the most macho of
places and maybe, just maybe he could have a fresh start. Right?
And really, whats one drink?
“Drink?” asked the general again.
Eke wavered. He didnt answer yes and he didnt answer no.
Instead, he looked at the general like he didnt understand the
question.
“Sure, Ill have one,” said Bill.
Eke finally asked, “Hows the water in these parts?”
“Water?” asked the general. His eyebrows went up. “The water is
not the best.” He poured a drink for himself and for Bill and then held
the bottle again for Eke. “Drink?”
He craved a drink, yet up until now he didnt want to drink at all.
What kind of a question was this to ask? What kind? Unfair, thats
what kind. Eke would have rather been asked anything else. The
reality of his situation– thousands of miles away from Massachusetts
in a tent in a jungle with a macho-looking and acting general was not lost on him. It seemed so natural to drink here. Of course, to Eke it
seemed natural to drink everywhere. And thats why finally, after what
really were excruciating deliberations in his mind, he answered
simply, “No thanks. Ill pass.”
“Suit yourself,” said the general.
Eke looked on the table and saw a large map of Honduras. He
tried to forget about the thought of whiskey. He watched Bill and the
general take a sip.
Its funny, thought Eke. Not funny as in ha ha. Funny as in
strange, or something. They say it can always get worse if you drink.
But, he wondered, does it ever get better?
Eke took a breath and thought again. He was in Honduras. Yes, it
can get better.
There was a plastic film over the map. Eke noticed the film first
and then he saw the reason for the film– notes written over the map
in marker. Notes and arrows. Enlarged in a blow-up box bottom right
hand corner of the map was a photograph of a house and then next
to that was a floor plan– apparently for this particular house.
Bill pointed at the map. “Whats this about?” he asked. “This,” said the general, “is our plan to save Honduras. We are a
small group, only 50 trained men but we are dedicated.”
“What about Maria?” asked Eke. He wanted to know as much as
he could about her.
“She is trained as well.” The general stared at Eke, making his
thoughts known without saying anything more than simply, “She is my
daughter.”
Eke didnt know what to say to that. He figured it meant she was
off limits. So he changed the subject. “Who lives in that house?” he
asked.
“The man who lives in that house,” said the general, “has evil
plans for Honduras and is, in fact, planning a coup to take over the
country.” The general paused, exhaled, and took a long sip of his
whiskey. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a fat cigar, which he
lit. Just as the Americans were hoping he would offer them a cigar
too, he said, “We plan to stop him.”
Eke studied the map. It reminded him of a strategy game he used
to play when he was younger. And so he said so.
“A strategy game?” asked the general.
“Yeah,” said Eke. “Its interesting to see it played out for real.” “Is that why youre here?” asked the general. “A strategy game?”
Ekes face twisted into a grin. “Im afraid so.”
Bill smiled at his friend. “Not for me,” he said. It seemed like an
attempt to clarify, and it was. “I had things to do on Friday night,” said
Bill. Then he laughed. He shrugged his shoulders at Eke. “Hey, its
true.”
The general smoked and watched the two of them. “You
Americans are funny,” he said.
“Funny?” asked Bill.
“Yes, funny. I dont understand men like you. You come down
here from your land of opportunity seeking what – opportunity?”
“Yeah, I guess,” said Eke.
“You funny Americans. Stupid, funny Americans.”
“Why?” asked Bill.
The general shook his head. “We are fighting for what you
already have.”
“Yeah,” said Eke. “Were with you. Were on your side.”
“But why?” asked the general. His eyebrows went up. “Did you
grow tired of board games?” “Actually,” said Eke, “weve grown tired of most everything to do
with our boring lives.”
“Yeah,” said Bill. “We want some excitement.”
“Excitement? This is not a game or an adventure, my American
friend. This is real. This is our country and we are trying to stop an
evil man who is trying to take away the rights of my people. Were not
looking for excitement, you see. What we really want is peace.”
Bill laughed.He pointed at the map. “That doesnt look like
peace,” he said. “It looks, well, exciting.”
The general shook his head and took a sip of whiskey. “So you
talk of excitement as if what we do down here is ballgame.” He stared
at Bill and then at Eke, then he asked, “Have you ever killed a man?”
“Im ready to,” said Bill quickly.
“Arent you afraid of dying?” asked the general.
“No disrespect sir, but I dont intend on dying. Im a good shot and
I am ready.”
The general sighed. “No one intends on dying,” he said. Then he
turned to Eke. “What about you? Are you ready to kill a man too?”
The truth, as Eke knew it, was that he couldnt even kill a
defenseless animal without remorse unless he caught it with his bare hands. Or unless he taught the animal to shoot a gun. The thing, for
Eke, was that it had to be fair. Shoot a man with a gun? Sure, thats
fair. “I think I am,” said Eke.
For a long time, the general just sat looking at them. Trying to
assess them. Eke felt like he was at a job interview. Finally, the general said, “Very well. We can use the help.”
