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.Private schools, excellent medical care, not to mention all the benefits of Norwegian infrastructure.Fucking hell, the goddamn dental work she's had alone is worth ten times everything that's been invested in your Liberian chick her whole life!"I glance out over the waves.The Jacket is coming out of the surf and heading our way."No, but seriously.Picture her in ten years.Picture the dinner conversation! Take it from me.Have fun for a little while, okay? And then get yourself a first world woman when it comes to settling down.Don't get lured in, my friend.She's only after you for the green card.No offense.""Offense taken."He blinks a few times and then bursts out laughing."No, really," I say."Offense taken." He stops laughing and bristles.The Jacket comes over, and the other Surf Buddha says to him, "This dude is way too unmellow," as he shakes his head and walks back toward his table."What's up with that?" the Jacket asks me."The guy doesn't like Ciatta.You've got a Liberian girlfriend, Jacket, how can you hang out with someone like that?""Consult rule number one of being a Surf Buddha: You riiide.Who cares what that guy thinks? Opinions are like the froth after the wave has crashed, full of air.Ride, man, ride." He takes a surfing posture and grins."Oh, and one correction: Mine's not a girlfriend.She's my wife.I paid her father the dowry and everything.I've gone native, my friend.I've got three others as well, deputy wives, as they say, who I'm happy to say now sleep on mattresses."But listen," he continues in a more serious tone."Rule number two of being a Buddha is the same as rule one: You riiiide.You don't create tension on the beach."I pick up my board from the sand and thrust it toward the Jacket."This is for you."The Jacket looks at me for a moment and says, "What the hell are you doing?"Sometimes your body just acts.I know in every inch of my flesh that I am no longer a Surf Buddha and that I never really was.I don't know exactly where I'm headed, but I do know I will not need that board to get there.The sun beats down hard on my face, and I can hear the Buddhas laugh at the next table.The Jacket stands there, hands at his side, not taking the board from me, so I let it fall toward him and he catches it."It's a gift."The Jacket examines the board in his hands."You're making a big mistake.Don't care so damn much.It's not only useless, but neurotic to care.Because this is all beyond your control."Ciatta asks her cousin to watch Yeanue, and we walk together down the beach.I tie a T-shirt into a makeshift turban as protection against the sun.To our right, the waters roll out blue and end in a dull haze; to our left, the wind howls through the skeletons of former mansions and hotels.I'm keeping a step ahead of Ciatta, and we're not talking.The surfer has unfortunately managed to plant a seed of doubt in my head: She's only after you for the green card.I'm suddenly seeing Ciatta differently, and this has caused something to click in my mind.I finally say to her, "The refugee program you told me about." She looks away, toward the sea."I was talking with a UN friend last week and he told me about a refugee resettlement program for Sierra Leoneans.But not for Liberians."After a long pause she says, "Maybe.So what?""You lied to me."Ciatta stops short."I have never, and will never, lie to you.""You didn't mention the program was for Sierra Leoneans.""You never asked!""So you just give me the portion of the truth that is convenient for you? Anyway, it's not a five-hundred-dollar fee; it's a bribe."We walk for a long while in silence."Look," I finally say, "I think you know that I'm not going to bribe a UN official.So if you can't think of any other way to get the cash, I suggest you choose another of your dreams—finishing your university degree here.Sure, it would be great to get to the States or Canada, but just a few weeks ago you were all excited about enrolling in classes so that you're not wasting your time here.Right?""Yeah, and? I don't have the money for that, either.""I'll help you out with that.Why don't you enroll in the Methodist university.It's more expensive than the University of Liberia, but much better."We walk a while more.Her fingers eventually touch mine, and we hold hands as she says, "I think I'll enroll."CHAPTER 25THE SUN STREAKS into the living room and melts into the upbeat Malian jazz coming from the stereo.A breeze blows in, too, and twirls the tobacco smoke from a friend's cigarette.He's tapping his foot to the rhythm, and his whole body is pleased with the music.It's Ciatta's birthday, and we are celebrating at her friend Maria's apartment on a Saturday afternoon [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]