A Line in the Sand. Guillermo Verdecchia

A Line in the Sand - Guillermo Verdecchia


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Palestinians are the guys we’re supposed to watch out for. Might try to car bomb our air base.

      SADIQ:

      Not me, Military Man. I don’t care about that.

      MERCER:

      You part of the uprising, that—uh—in-ti-faggot thing?

      SADIQ:

      Intifada.

      MERCER:

      Whatever the hell it’s called.

      SADIQ:

      That is West Bank, Israel. Is one thousand kilometre from here.

      MERCER:

      Saddam is going to get his ass kicked, you know.

      SADIQ:

      You are right. Big tough American soldier like you—must win for sure—

      MERCER:

      I’m not American, kid, I’m Canadian.

      SADIQ:

      Oh. Canadian. Yes! The peacekeepers. Frère Jacques, Frère Jacques. Dormez-vous … They teach us this song in school …

      MERCER:

      Oh, yeah.

      SADIQ:

      Oui. It is big part of your culture, yes? You speak French, yes?

      MERCER:

      No, I’m from Vancouver.

      SADIQ:

      I could not live like that, all the snow … I like sun—get dark in the Canada for eight months in year, yes?

      MERCER:

      No.

      SADIQ:

      You lying. I know, we learn all about the Canada. Special textbook donated from your government. We look in book and laugh at clothes you people wear. You cut big bear open and climb inside.

      Your skin is like snow, Canada. Maybe you going to melt.

      So tell me, what would you like. I got much for sell to Canadian soldier.

      MERCER:

      Like what?

      SADIQ:

      (cautiously pulls photographs from his bag) Pictures, ­photograph, look at this.

      MERCER:

      (Relaxes, finally puts gun down) Holy shit.

      SADIQ:

      Good hey? Very popular with American soldier. Good for Canadian, too huh. And this.

      MERCER:

      Fuck—where do you get this?

      SADIQ:

      My boss, Salim. He is big merchant, buy from Americans in Cairo. They sell to US Army. For men on base. Is good for Canada too, hey. You like?

      MERCER:

      Fuck, this heat.

      SADIQ:

      It’s OK, Vancouver?

      MERCER:

      Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.

      SADIQ:

      (Hands MERCER water bottle) Here.

      MERCER:

      Fucking desert. Fucking sun.

      SADIQ:

      Very good price.

      MERCER:

      How much you want?

      SADIQ:

      How many?

      MERCER:

      Just the ones I saw—

      SADIQ:

      Twenty dollars.

      MERCER:

      All right.

      Here.

      They exchange.

      SADIQ:

      What is this? This purple, with bird eating fish. Is no good.

      MERCER:

      It’s two ten dollar bills. Twenty bucks.

      SADIQ:

      Ha. You can’t fool me, Vancouver. I must go to City of Kansas. Need hard money to get there.

      MERCER:

      That’s as hard as you’re going to get. Canadian dollars.

      SADIQ:

      Is no good to me.

      MERCER:

      Why the fuck not?

      SADIQ:

      Salim, my boss, he say everything must be American dollars. When I start, I sell cigar to skinny black soldier for Bangladeshi dollar, Salim just laugh. Make me pay.

      MERCER:

      Well, Canada’s not fucking Bangladesh, pal.

      SADIQ:

      Very big price—from Cuba.

      MERCER:

      I’ll give you forty. It’s worth like thirty-five US.

      SADIQ:

      Now we talk turkey.

      MERCER:

      Right on, brother.

      SADIQ:

      You want more? Different? I have cigar, cigarettes. Marlboro. American Camel.

      MERCER:

      Don’t smoke.

      SADIQ:

      Radio? I have radio.

      MERCER:

      Got one.

      SADIQ:

      CD. Michael Jackson.

      MERCER:

      No.

      SADIQ:

      Tape for video—Madonna. “Like a Virgin”. Nice shirt, blue jean from Guess, what you want, I can get.

      MERCER:

      I got everything I need on the base.

      SADIQ:

      Canada Dry One.

      MERCER:

      How’d you know that?

      SADIQ:

      I know many things.

      MERCER:

      Right. You staying here?

      SADIQ:

      No, I go to Kansas.

      MERCER:

      I mean here, the beach. You staying?

      SADIQ:

      You want I should stay?

      MERCER:

      No, I want you should go.

      SADIQ:

      This beach private of GI Vancouver?

      MERCER:

      Look, nothing personal. I’m just getting a little bored. This is my time off.

      SADIQ:

      Is OK, I have work to do. You want more picture you know where to find.

      SADIQ:

      Welcome back, Canada Dry One.

      MERCER:


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