BAMAKO, Aribert Raphael [read out loud books .TXT] 📗

It’s very late and he may be sleeping. I prefer to come back tomorrow, at any time you say. I’ll bring him something to read maybe.”
“Yes, I’d say it’d be a good idea for us to get an early night.” It was almost midnight. Days and nights were stretching too far into one another, it seemed. “I can’t remember the last time I slept without being awakened by some phone call or a knock on the door.”
They had finished their coffees and they were now in the lobby. Suddenly Talya was impatient for Chantal to leave.
“I guess, I’m lucky … living in a house,” Chantal said, “You don’t get all of the interruptions.”
“All right then, we’ll see you tomorrow? What time would you be free?”
“Let’s say around ten o’clock?”
They hugged and Chantal left.
49
Hassan was reclining on his pillow. He was still haunted. The fever had broken, yet only fragments of memory remained. He couldn’t recall when he lay down, when he slept, when he woke. He looked at the clock on his bedside table, and then took his wristwatch that someone had taken off his wrist—he didn’t recall when that happened either—and stared at it. Looking at the date, he realized that twenty-four hours of emptiness had passed. A swirl of presence and absence danced in front of his unseeing eyes. Mohammed had been there. Talya had called him. Now everyone had gone, disappeared into those long lost hours. He knew he had to get up. He knew he needed to walk. Would he be able to take those few first steps? He watched the nurse reading in the chair beside the window. His last drop of pride prevented him from disturbing her. She had been turning the pages of her book at a rhythmic, noiseless pace for hours. Finally, Hassan threw the covers back and put his feet on the ground. The nurse got up and hurried over to him.
“Maitre, it’s not time yet—”
“I need to get up.”
“All right then, but let me help you.”
“No, I don’t want your help.” Pushing her hand away, Hassan stood up. The room whirled around his eyes—everything moved. He sat down again.
“Maitre, please let me get some juice for you. You’re still too weak to stand.”
“How long...? How long before I can get out of this bed?”
“If you could try drinking or eating something, maybe another two hours.”
Hassan couldn’t even think of food. The idea was revolting, the proposal ludicrous. Even if he wanted to bite the first bite, sip the first sip of whatever would be on offer, he knew he wouldn’t keep it down. The humiliation of it all was debasing. He thought of Talya. She saw him like this. Laughable wasn’t it? He was asked to protect her, to stand by her, and look at him now—not even able to stand up on his own.
50
Talya went up the stairs and knocked lightly on Hassan’s door. Justine opened it promptly. She looked worn out. Talya knew she lay on the floor and slept for a few hours in the afternoon, but she had been on watch for almost twenty-four hours, and that was a lot, even for a dutiful nurse. She came out of the room and stood beside Talya in the corridor putting a finger on both her lips signing her to be quiet.
“Madame Kartz, I’m glad you came. Maitre is sleeping. He wanted to get up earlier, and I think the next time he wakes up he’ll want to go to the bathroom.” How typical of a nurse. Talking about the body functions of a man she hardly knew in the corridor of a hotel didn’t seem to faze her one little bit.
“Well, I guess he’s feeling better then?” Talya whispered. “What can I do to help?”
“Oh nothing, really; it’s just that, he hasn’t taken any fluids yet, and he’s very weak. I’m afraid he would fall down if he tried to walk.”
“Tell you what, I’ll go and ask one of the guards to stay with you. Then, if Maitre wants to get up, at least he’ll have a man nearby to help him.”
“That’d be very nice. I’ll stay with him the night but if I have someone with me I’ll feel a lot easier. Thank you.”
“Has Dr. Ferron called back already?” Talya asked.
“Not yet, he won’t until tomorrow. Maitre is much better. There is no need for him to come back yet.”
They said good night and Talya reminded her that she was in the next room and that Justine could call on her anytime, although she hoped, she wouldn’t. She went back into the room and Talya went downstairs, in search of Ashem.
He’d be back on duty by now.
When she found him, she explained what she needed him to do and he accepted readily enough. He was keen on taking this assignment because there was a television in Hassan’s room and he could watch it, all night if he wanted to, while trying not to fall asleep.
Now that everyone was tucked away for the night, it was high time for Talya to do the same.

51
Although Talya had a peaceful night’s sleep, the next day arrived too soon. It was past eight o’clock when she got out of bed. Everything was quiet next door. Nobody had called during the night. She took a leisurely shower, got dressed and went downstairs for breakfast. There wasn’t a sign of anyone she knew.
“Good morning, Madame Kartz, how are you? And how is Maitre this morning?”
“Oh, Monsieur Gerald, good morning.” Talya had raised her head from the paper to find the hotel manager standing by the table. “I’m fine, thank you. And as for Maitre Sangor, last night the nurse told me he was trying to get up.”
“Oh I’m so glad to hear it. Do you think he will want some breakfast?”
“I don’t know. I’m sure Justine will call down if Maitre wants something…. By the way, I wanted to thank you for getting Dr. Ferron so quickly.”
“Not at all, glad to be of service, and now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll have to go and attend to the breakfast service.”
“Yes of course, please don’t let me hold you up.” He walked away with a broad smile across his lips. The man is courtesy personified. She wondered where he went to school—Switzerland perhaps.
She continued eating and reading the paper. On Friday’s, Talya was able to get the Herald Tribune’s Wednesday’s edition. It had always been a treat for her to sit and read the paper in the morning. Wherever she was, it was a ritual.
Talya dutifully tried her hand at the cryptic crossword, without much success. An hour later, Chantal came looking for her. She, too, must have had a good night sleep; the lines under her eyes were gone.
“Hi! How are you? How’s the patient?” She sat down.
“Oh, hi, Chantal. I’m fine thank you and I don’t know how the patient is.”
Talya put her pen down and asked the waiter to bring a cup of coffee for Chantal.
She started laughing, shaking her head. “How is it possible that you can sit here, read the paper, do the crossword and not even inquire about your friend’s health?”
Talya locked eyes with Chantal across the table. “Have you ever had malaria? Or did you ever attend anyone who’s had an attack?”
“No, I haven’t. What’s that got to do with you getting some news about Hassan’s condition?”
“Well, I tell you. In the first instance, if it is cerebral malaria, as in Hassan’s case, the patient goes into a sort of trance and—”
“No, don’t start!” Chantal glared at her friend. “You’re evading my question. I’m asking you why you don’t go and see him right now. I didn’t ask you to describe his sickness. So why is it that you’re sitting here having breakfast and not at his bedside? He’s your friend for pity sake.”
Talya was taken aback. She hadn’t been expecting Chantal’s impatience or her insight into her behaviour.
“Simply because I knew we were going to see him soon, and disturbing him twice in a short period of time would confuse him. Honestly, I don’t really know how to deal with that sort of pressure—especially now.”
“What are you talking about? Hassan is going to be fine. Let’s go and see him right now. Come on... Let’s go.” Talya was out of excuses.
Chantal knocked on the door softly and to their surprise, and relief, Hassan opened it. He was dressed with the hotel bathrobe. He looked tired.
“Come in please,” Justine said from behind Hassan. “Maitre is doing much better as you can see.”
Chantal erupted in a string of joyful comments regarding Hassan’s rapid recovery. He smiled timidly in response, took a few steps back to let them in, averting his eyes from Talya’s gaze. He silently went back to bed and slipped under the cover. Talya sat beside him while Justine and Chantal went to sit by the window to chat.
She looked at the man Talya came to care for so much in such a short time. “How are you?”
“I’m doing better, thank you.” He tried to smile, continuing to evade her eyes.
She got up and turned to leave. “I think you still need to rest. We should go. We just wanted to know if you were okay.”
As she reached the foot of the bed, Hassan called back, “Talya, please stay. Alone.”
Chantal and Justine looked up, got up and trotted out quickly. They were smiling.
Talya retraced her steps and sat down again. “I should let you rest, really—”
“No. I mean … I will, later.” He reclined his head on the pillows and closed his eyes.
Talya waited for a minute or two and then said, “I’ve confirmed the arrangements to leave Sunday and—”
Hassan opened his eyes. “Please listen. It’s no good. I won’t be able to help you. Just look at me, I can’t even walk properly.”
“Oh stop that. You, of all people should know that by Sunday this little episode would be but a memory. You’ll be running a mile by then—”
“I won’t. Maybe later.”
“All right then. Mohammed said he’d come down with me, so…”
“What do you mean Mohammed is going with you? Where?” Hassan was puzzled.
“Dakar. Where else?”
“But he can’t, he doesn’t know anything about these people.”
“He knows enough, as much as you and I do anyway.”
“He can’t go, not just the two of you.”
“I don’t understand. Why don’t you think it’s a good idea, especially when you don’t want to make the trip?”
“Never mind why, he just can’t go, that’s all.”
“I’m not going to argue with you. I’ll let you go back to sleep and come back later.”
“Don’t … I want … I need you to stay. I want to talk to you.”
“I don’t think…”
“Be quiet for once, please. Just sit with me a little while longer.”
Talya knew his mind was fighting for control and arguing wouldn’t do him any good.
He took her hand and whispered, “Please, listen