Watering Holes

Chapter 1

"Return to old watering holes for more than water; friends and dreams are there to meet you."- African Proverb

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May 2006. Brufut, The Gambia

The full moon was out that night. The sky was a dark grey and the Atlantic looked almost black in the shadows of the moon. The waves crashed gently every so often on the shores of the beach. Brufut beach was dead silent apart from the occasional chirping of the birds that rested on some of the palm trees and the crashing sound of the waves. Unlike the more popular beaches in urban Gambia, Brufut beach had one bar and restaurant along its shores. Given the time of year and night, its lights were off, and its doors locked with not a soul in sight.

The three friends arrived at the beach at 2am, each holding up their long dresses so it did not get stuck in a thorn or wet from the ocean's water. It was prom night and while the rest of their mates danced away the night at the after party, they headed to the beach for a friendship ritual they promised to do three years ago at the back of Mr. IJ's math class. The friend in the middle held the jar and the three pieces of paper. On each paper, they had written a message for themselves to themselves. They will come back in ten years and find the messages. That was the plan.

"This place is too quiet; we could have just done this at Poco Loco or we could've just written a group email. I can't even believe we are doing this. We're definitely not gonna find this in ten years" one of the friends whined.

"Hush girl. We promised to do it and we're already here, so we might as well. Plus, Poco Loco was too crowded, can't have people thinking we're weirdos"

The three friends walked a few minutes until they found a spot by a palm tree that they agreed they would remember. They used a small stick to dig a shallow hole, put the three pieces of paper in the jar and buried it.

"Okay let's drive back to the party now and dance a little before it ends"

As they headed up the hills to the parking lot, they heard a sound coming from the distance. It sounded like the heavy footsteps. The sound persisted and moments later, it was followed by heavy breathing. Whoever it was, they sounded like they had been holding their breath for a while. Frightened, the friends stopped in their tracks and hid behind a fresh juice stand. The moon light casted shadows a few meters away from them. The shadows moved towards the oceans and as they moved farther away, the sounds of the footsteps and breathing faded with them. The full moon was not bright enough to make out the shadows but there was more than one of them. The demeanor coupled with the heavy aggressive footsteps and breathing suggested that they were men. They did not seem to me alone. As they moved, shorter shadows trailed behind them but those were even harder to make out.

The men reached close to the shore and then started walking to the right. The friends could see them better now as they moved away from the shadows of the restaurant building. There were two strongly built men and behind them, each of them dragged one person bent on their knees. One of the friends let out a loud gasp and the other quickly covered her mouth. Whatever it was that they were witnessing, they were not supposed to be. The two kneeling people were being pulled by ropes that seemed to be tied to their hands. Each man held a rope and pulled as they walked. After a while, the men stopped.

One of them reached for his pocket and pulled out a phone. None of them could hear what he said but when the phone call ended, the man put his phone back in his pocket and like clockwork, the men began to kick the two roped people on the ground. The kicking continued for minutes and with each passing minute the friends spent behind that juice stand, their fears grew.

Low gasps, tears and uncontrollable shaking but they dared not leave their hiding spot. Whoever those men were, they were capable of evil things.

After what felt like an eternity, the kicking stopped, and the same man reached for his phone again. This time as he returned it to his pocket, he pulled out a gun from his waistband and fired. The gunshot was followed by the loud scream of a woman and moments later, the other man reached for his waistband, pulled out a gun and fired another shot. This time there was no scream.

Brufut beach was dead silent again except for the crashing of the waves and the chirping of the birds. The bird's chirps sounded faint and mellow, as if they knew something terrible had just happened. Moments later, a black pickup truck drove down from the other end of the hills, its headlights off. The two men carried the lifeless bodies of the man and woman into the back of the truck and climbed in. The car sped off from the side of the hill in emerged from.

The next morning the headlines read:

The bodies of a couple discovered in their Brufut heights Mansion in a suspected armed robbery.