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body back to Africa.”
“You got it,” Boise said.
The next day Boise and Malik met again at the same café.
“What you got,” Malik asked.
“The shooters were two white boys trying to get into our business. They had set up a buy from Pops in Chicago for ten keys of Ibo, which Cinque was to deliver, but they couldn’t raise the money and they decided they would rip him off instead, they mistook Eli for another Simba who was to deliver the goods, Eli was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“I want you to take care of those asshole and every one in their family. I want those assholes to suffer, take care of their family in front of them, start with the women first, mother, sister, wife, whatever.”
“Done, some of my boys will like that, especially dealing with the white women.”
“We will be gone tomorrow, do it the next day,” Malik said.
“Have a good flight and don’t worry about anything, again I am sorry about Eli.”
As Malik left the café, he thought about the unfortunate ironies of life and how it can end, suddenly, and without any reason. His sadness turned to anger; someone would pay dearly for this.

Chapter 47

December 2025

After shooting Eli, Tim and James drove to the McDonalds on Center Street in Warsaw. They both ordered a Big Mac with fries and sat at a rear table.
“Fuck, shit,” James said disgustedly.
“Wrong motherfucking nigger,” Tim said.
“What the fuck we do now?” he continued questionly.
“We lay low for awhile until this shit blows over, and I can think of something else, cool?”
“Cool,” Tim said, holding his palm out, which was smacked by James.
Later that day Malik called Pops and told him of Eli’s murder.
“Was that your buddy who got popped in Indiana?” Pops asked.
“Yep, that was Eli,” Malik said sadly.
“I am so sorry my man, I never met the dude but from I heard from Boise that he was a good guy,” Pops said genuinely sincere.
“Boise our man in Fort Wayne told me that the shooters were supposed to be making a buy for some of our product from a Chicago source…”
Before Malik could finish, Pops said,
“Them fucking assholes.”
Pops told Malik about the deal with Tim and James.
“So they planned on robbing and killing John,” Pops said.
“From what Boise told me, that’s the way it looks to me,” Malik said.
“Well, I’ve got something for their asses,” Pops said, “I will contact Boise.”
The medical examiners called Diki and told him that Eli’s body was ready. Malik and Diki went to the coroner’s office and viewed Eli’s body. The Medical examiner told them that they had been able to reconstruct Eli’s face using plastic molds and makeup. Eli was wearing a dark suit, white shirt and a dark tie, he looked serene, if not for the lack of breathing and the heavy makeup, he could have been mistaken for being asleep, but they knew he was not asleep, Eli was dead.
It was a long, sorrowful flight to Africa; Eli’s coffin was in the jet’s stateroom, not the cargo hold. Malik and Diki took turns comforting each other and reminiscing about Eli. One night while sitting along with the coffin, Malik remembered one of Reverend James sermons.
“The Lord keeps a ledger on all of us and in this ledger there is a page for all the good things a person does and all the bad things a person does while on this earth. When the person appears before Him on Judgment Day, He opens the ledger, if the good things out-weight the bad; He gives a thumb up, if the bad things outweigh the good He gives a thumb down.”
Malik was sure that Eli got a thumb up.


Yolanda, Billy and Maggie met the jet at the Lagos Airport. Yolanda held up very well but Maggie who had came to love Eli like her own son broke down, as Eli’s coffin was being place in the hearse, she prostrated herself over the coffin, and wept uncontrollably. She was comforted and consoled by Yolanda, and Yolanda almost broke down under the additional burden.
It was a very sad time in a place that had always been so joyful. When they arrived at Diki’s estate it was early afternoon, four men were waiting and they took the coffin into the “Wake Room,” which was overflowing with flowers and removed the body from the coffin onto a brass bed. Yolanda, Maggie, Diki, and Malik went to Mack’s boat; a young woman brought them sandwiches and lemonade.
“Maggie, I am Muslim and I would like to give Eli a Muslim funeral, if that is alright with you,” Yolanda said.
“Whatever you think or want to do is alright with me Yolanda,” Maggie said.
Yolanda continued, “To Muslims death is not the end of life, but a transition into an active spirit world where the Erosi, their ancestors greets them, the Erosi and now Eli will have an influence over all living things. Our funerals are not morbid or sad affairs; they are very creative and colorful where the deceased life is celebrated.”
The sky was overcast with dark clouds and the rain fell in brief torrents that lasted for only a few minutes, and then abated. It was the custom of the Dagara to bury the dead as soon as possible. Yolanda had set the funeral date for the coming Saturday, three days away. Malik and Askido were standing outside watching Yolanda and the girls as they greeted the many mourners who offered their condolences. Women were bringing large, covered straw baskets of food and fruits and large tureens of jams and jellies, while others people were setting up a large canvas tarp, which was to provide cover in case it rained, and shade if it was hot.
The next day the preparations for Eli’s funeral began, native male and female dancers wearing traditional masks and costumes danced around the body as it was removed from the casket and taken to the “Waking Room.” The “Waking Room,” was a large tent on the shady side of the property. A group of older women who would perform the ritual bath was waiting. Their job was to make Eli’s body suitable for the spirit world by cleaning and bathing him. Their faces were strong and creased their eyes sad as twilight. Eli’s body was laid on his back on a washing table where a large white towel was laid over his private parts. His clothes were taken off and slight pressure was applied to his abdomen to expel any impurities that were close to exiting. The women bathed Eli, and then splashed his body with camphor and talcum powder; they combed his hair and shaved him. They grunted and clinched their teeth as they bent his stiff limbs, the private parts are washed first and very well, and then the hair was washed. The body was washed three times with warm water containing a tribal disinfectant and the water for the final washing contained a tribal perfume. After the body was dried it was now ready for shrouding. To the Dagara, shrouding symbolized all of the hard work and good deeds of the deceased.
They wrapped Eli three times in a white cloth; the preferable number, given that the Prophet also had been shrouded in three sheets.
One of Yolanda’s aunts brought to the “Waking Room,” large bowls overflowing with cotton, numerous bars of soap, sponges, a razor and razor blades, talcum powder, camphor balls, a plastic drinking cup, a spoon and a white cotton T-shirt. After the preparation, Eli’s shrouded body was placed under the canvas for the wake. Malik could see the tears flowing from Diki’s eyes, but Yolanda and the girls were surprisingly study standing next to Billy. Maggie had decided not to attend. For Malik watching the people passing in front of the coffin, some wiping away tears, some quietly praying seemed unreal, and he could not accept the fact that Eli was dead.
Yolanda explained to Billy Askido and Malik, “We are giving Eli everything he might need in the spirit world, so that he needs nothing. If he wants a cup of tea he has a cup and spoon, if he wants to look good when I join him he has a razor to shave.”
The wake lasted for two days; the third day was set for the funeral and burial. Yolanda had selected a beautiful shaded area where she and Eli had often visited, for his burial. Eli's’ shrouded body was carried to the burial site by Malik, Diki, Billy and three other men on a board blessed by the village Imam. Yolanda, Maggie, and the girls walked behind the men and they were followed by hundreds of mourners. The actual burial service was quite short, Maggie said a prayer, “Dear Lord, take your son Eli into your paradise and prepare a place for him to wait on all of us who loved him, Amend. The village Imam, a Muslim holy man, said a short prayer over the body as mourners threw beautiful tropical flowers onto Eli’s shrouded body as it was being lowered into the grave; his face was turned East towards Mecca. Maggie through tear stained eyes looked away from the grave and to the sky.
Two red hawks were circling high over the gravesite. She stood and watched in silence as the two hawks would go into a steep dive as it they intended to join Eli in his grave and just as quickly they would return upwards. Finally, the hawks flew away becoming small silhouettes in the evening sky. A breeze, originating in the high hills far away brought the scent of fish, Maggie’s tears stopped and she smiled and said to the departing silhouettes, “Save some fish for me boys,” she said to Mack and Eli.

Chapter 48
Three months had passed since Eli’s death; it was a pleasant winter day, cloudy and overcast. Tim, James and eight other young white men were playing basketball at the Warsaw High School playground; Tim was throwing the ball to James when it was intercepted by John.
Surprised, James asked, “Whatsup, my man?”
John responded, “I’m cool, whatsup with you?”
“Guess we missed each other, huh? John continued.
“We were on our way there when we saw a lot of police cars, so we split,” James said casually.
“Yeah, same with me”, John responded.
“What happened? Cinque asked.
“From what I heard, some black dude got popped,” James, said.
“Hey man, give us the ball,” a player demanded.
Quietly Cinque said, “Game over.”
“What the fuck you mean game over,” another player said.
Cinque gave the player a steely look and with a toothless smile said, “Game over.”
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