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Books by Cliff
Chandler
The Paragons
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Devastated
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Vengeance Is Mine
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Devastated
Excerpt
by Cliff Chandler
I'm in Spain. Damn this is great, a
little scary, but great.
His
plane was announced in Spanish, French, and finally in English.
Vic threw the strap of his carry-on across his shoulders and
followed the line of passengers presenting their boarding
passes. The plane was smaller, if you can call a 727 small, and
almost empty. Vic had a window seat on the right side of the
plane. The plane climbed out of Barajaras on almost the same
runway they landed on and headed west. Vic had a sense of
trouble, and that puzzled him. He didn't know a soul in Europe,
but the feeling was strong. He released his seat belt and headed
for the toilet. The toilet was at the rear of his section; his
seat was near the emergency door on the right wing. He didn't
bother to check out the passengers as he made his way to the
rear of the plane. He would do that on his way back to his
seat.
Vic
washed his hands, splashed a little cold water on his face,
blotted his face with a paper towel and opened the door. From
his position he could see all the way to the first class
section. He didn't see anything or anyone unusual until he
passed young Spanish man two seats behind his seat and he knew
he had his man, it was his gold chains. He looked like he had
just stepped off the subway in Brooklyn.
What
the hell is he doing here and why does he make me feel uneasy?
Vic thought.
Vic
went back to his seat. The fact that he had found the thing that
made him uneasy caused him to relax for the first time in a long
time. He thought he had lost his edge when he refused to kill
Marcos.
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* * * *
He
heard it in his mind's ear, a beautiful chorus. The sound was not
of this world. In the same instant his eyes were drawn to the left
side of the plane. In the window frame, blurred by the clouds were
the softly focused hills of Africa. Vic reveled in his epiphany.
Suddenly there it was below him, Africa. The earth spoke to him,
it was as if it was saying welcome home. The plane banked to the
left and headed toward Casablanca. It was a quick flight. On final
approach the plane headed straight in, full speed. At the very
last moment the flaps were extended and the plane slowed for
landing.
Casablanca,
I'm in Casablanca! This is really cool I'm in Casablanca.
A
tandem bus met the plane. The luggage from the plane was placed in
a special carrier after which the bus moved on to the terminal.
Vic shouldered his carry-on bag; the rest of his baggage had been
checked on to Marrakech. He had planned to spend the day in
Casablanca as part of his trip. Vic wanted to take a bus into the
city, and asked the Attendant about taking the bus into
Casablanca. She pretended not to understand him until he tried his
best high school French, after which, she responded in English,
and recommended taking a taxi. Or as she said, "You don't
want to take a bus. Take a taxi."
Vic
went through Customs, checked his carry-on bag in a locker and
cashed a traveler's check. He grabbed the first taxi in line
and told the driver to take him to Casablanca. He was right Gold
Chains followed him. The ride into town was worth the trip. It was
like driving through Georgia in the forties: farm houses and
shanties. The thing that impressed him most was what he saw in a
farm house they passed. It was a homemade table with tablecloth
made of cheesecloth on it.
And
they say we have lost our culture.
The
Driver drove into the middle of the city, stopped and announced,
"Casablanca." Vic paid him, crossed the street and
entered a bar. Gold Chains had his driver stop further up the
street. Vic took his drink and sat at one of the sidewalk tables.
From his seat he could see Gold Chains using a public phone.
A car stopped in front of Vic and a well-dressed Moroccan got out
of the car and joined him at his table.
"Mr.
Morgan my name is Ahmed Ferhat. It is my duty to see that you get
to Marrakech in one piece."
"I beg your pardon, but who the hell are you?"
Ahmed
showed Vic his shield.
"What
the hell is going on?"
"Nothing
that we can't handle. I'm working with Interpol. You're being
followed."
"You
mean the young Spanish man in the gray suit?"
Ahmed
blinked.
"Good
for you. But, do you know who he is?"
"If
he's following me he must be into drugs."
"Well"
Ahmed said.
Ahmed
brought Vic up to date. Vic hadn't noticed, but Gold Chains had
left. He didn't mention it to Ahmed; but they probably had Gold
Chains covered. The question was why was someone following him.
Then it hit him: probably a relative of Marcos.
Will
this thing ever end?
Vic thought.
Vic
abandoned the idea and focused on Ahmed, who said that he would
escort him back to the airport, and that someone else would meet
him in Marrakech. He had promised Ellis Crainsworth that Vic would
be safe in his country. Vic decided to get loaded, Ahmed agreed,
but didn't join him in a drink. He was Moslem. Vic settled the
matter by having a drink for him. Time passes fast when you're
having fun, Vic thought, and Ahmed knew where all of the fun
places were. Belly dancing was not one of Vic's favorite pastimes,
until he met Fatima. Fatima was good at her craft, and it had been
a long time since Vic had been with a woman, but Fatima took care
of that. And it's just like they say, you know: riding a bicycle.
Fatima was a customized Harley.
Source: Devastated
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 |
Super Rich: A Guide to Having it All
By Russell Simmons
Russell Simmons knows firsthand that
wealth is rooted in much more than the
stock
market. True wealth has more to do with
what's in your heart than what's in your
wallet. Using this knowledge, Simmons
became one of America's shrewdest
entrepreneurs, achieving a level of
success that most investors only dream
about. No matter how much material gain
he accumulated, he never stopped lending
a hand to those less fortunate. In
Super Rich, Simmons uses his rare
blend of spiritual savvy and
street-smart wisdom to offer a new
definition of wealth-and share timeless
principles for developing an unshakable
sense of self that can weather any
financial storm. As Simmons says, "Happy
can make you money, but money can't make
you happy." |
* * * * *
|
The New Jim Crow
Mass Incarceration in the Age of
Colorblindness
By Michele Alexander
Contrary to the
rosy picture of race embodied in Barack
Obama's political success and Oprah
Winfrey's financial success, legal
scholar Alexander argues vigorously and
persuasively that [w]e have not ended
racial caste in America; we have merely
redesigned it. Jim Crow and legal racial
segregation has been replaced by mass
incarceration as a system of social
control (More African Americans are
under correctional control today... than
were enslaved in 1850). Alexander
reviews American racial history from the
colonies to the Clinton administration,
delineating its transformation into the
war on drugs. She offers an acute
analysis of the effect of this mass
incarceration upon former inmates who
will be discriminated against, legally,
for the rest of their lives, denied
employment, housing, education, and
public benefits. Most provocatively, she
reveals how both the move toward
colorblindness and affirmative action
may blur our vision of injustice: most
Americans know and don't know the truth
about mass incarceration—but her
carefully researched, deeply engaging,
and thoroughly readable book should
change that.—Publishers
Weekly |
 |
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The White Masters of the
World
From
The World and Africa, 1965
By W. E. B. Du Bois
W. E. B. Du Bois’
Arraignment and Indictment of White Civilization
(Fletcher)
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Ancient African Nations
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If you like this page consider making a donation
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Negro Digest /
Black World
Browse all issues
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The Death of Emmett Till by Bob Dylan
/
The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll
/
Only a Pawn in Their Game
Rev. Jesse Lee Peterson Thanks America for
Slavery /
George Jackson /
Hurricane Carter
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The Journal of Negro History issues at Project Gutenberg
The
Haitian Declaration of Independence 1804
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January 1, 1804 -- The Founding of
Haiti
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7 January 2012
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