Cross Country

that it was okay to use techniques like this on suspected terrorists.
    Was I a terror suspect? What had I done to deserve this? Who was torturing me?
    My hands were completely numb and I badly wanted to sleep. I could think of little else and would have given anything just to lie down on the floor. I couldn’t give in, though.
    Wall-standing. I can do this
.
    I thought about stepping away from the wall and what the consequences might be. I held internal debates with myself. They wouldn’t kill me, would they? What would be the point of it?
    Finally, I turned my body so that only
one hand
was on the wall. Did that count? Was it a violation of the rules?
    Immediately I was kicked hard behind the knees! I went down hard on the floor. Cold to the touch. A bed — finally!
    But I was yanked right back up and thrown hard against the wall. Still, no one spoke. But I assumed the position. Not just my legs were trembling now. Everything was — my entire body was shaking terribly.
    Who else was with me in the room?
    What did they want from me?

Chapter 149
    THEN I WAS talking to Jannie. I was hugging her, and I was so happy that she was all right. “Where’s Ali? Where’s Nana?” I asked in an excited whisper. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”
    Suddenly I came to and realized that I had been sleeping on my feet. Jannie wasn’t here.
    It was only me.
    I had the sense that I was in the second day of captivity. Or may be the third day. Suddenly I was startled as someone pulled the cloth hood up around my nose, still keeping my eyes in darkness.
    “What?” I muttered. “Who are you?” As I spoke, I realized how dry my lips and mouth were.
    I was given water, which splashed from somewhere, maybe a bottle, pouring down my throat and all over my face.
    “Don’t be greedy, now,” someone said and snickered. A captor with a cruel sense of humor. “Eat this! Slowly. Don’t make yourself choke.”
    I was fed three crackers, one right after the other. I didn’t choke, but I was afraid I was going to throw them up as fast as I’d eaten them.
    “Water?” I asked. “More water, please?” My throat was tightening up again.
    There was a long pause, but then the bottle was returned to my lips. Once more, I drank greedily.
    “Too fast,” someone said. “You’ll cramp up. Don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
    Then I was pushed into position again.
    Wall-standing.

Chapter 150
    SOMETIME AFTER THAT, I began to seriously hallucinate and I wondered if there was something in the water, or maybe even the crackers I’d eaten.
    I was convinced that I was back in Africa and that I was lost somewhere in a vast desert. I knew I was going to die soon, and that didn’t seem like such a bad thing. I actually welcomed death and wondered if I would meet Nana, Jannie, and Ali on the other side. Would Maria be there too? And others I had lost?
    I was struck hard in the back — and I fell to my knees again.
    “You were dreaming — asleep on your feet. That’s not allowed, hotshot.”
    “Sorry.”
    “Of course you are. Now, would you like this to stop? Would you like to sleep? I’ll bet that you would.”
    More than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life
.
    “Where —?” I began to say.
    “Right — Where is your fucking family? You’re nothing if not consistent, or is it stubborn? Or stupid? Now, listen to me closely. I
will
let you sleep. I
will
give you closure about your family. . . . Are you with me so far? . . . Are you following what I’m saying?”
    “Yes.”
    “Yes
what?
Tell me what you are agreeing to.”
    “You’ll tell me about my family. Let me sleep.”
    “Provided that what?”
    I don’t attack and kill you, you sonofabitch
.
Where there’s a will . . .
    “Provided I answer your questions.”
    “Very good. Would you like more water, hotshot?”
    “Yes.”
    The cloth hood was lifted halfway and the water bottle was returned to my lips. I drank as much as I wanted to, but then there was silence. It frightened the hell out of me. Had he gone away? The one who knew what had happened to my family? The one who had actually talked to me for a minute or so.
    “I saw terrible things in Africa, especially in Sudan,” I said. “I don’t think any of that interests you. A family — the Tansis — were murdered. In Lagos. Maybe because they were talking to me. Or because of what Adanne wrote in the newspaper. . . . You can get her articles.
    “Are you there? You wanted me to talk, right? Are you