It worked. Only a little sand, and therest water. I repeated the process over and over. Now that I had drunk a little brackish water, I thought of Rut.... I soakedmy hair thoroughly and painfully crawled back to her. I squeezed a little ofthe water on her parched lips she seemed to stir. A little more water and sheswallowed. Again, again, and one bloodshot eye opened breaking away the saltencrustation. Gently I rolled her on her side, as slowly the realization hither that she was free. We held. There’s something about it being Africa-hot at nighttime that really gets to me. It’s one thing for it to be stifling hot at 12 noon, but when the heat is oppressive and it’s 12 midnight, that’s a whole nutha thing all together. I was feeling a buzz from my Sangria when the phone rang. “Who the hell could this be, calling at quarter after “booty call o’clock” at night?” I glanced at the caller ID on my cell phone and it was my friend Nina who lived downstairs. I was glad to have. More

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