picture and
the treatment Lorna gave him, but her advice mattered little to
him.
“I find that many people suffer from skin
problems, you think it’s normal ?”
“Of course, it is not. In this lost region,
foreigners are engaged in weird activities, using the water to
discharge waste of all kinds, including uranium radioactive waste,
mostly, and also industrial and chemical waste...Since the
containers have washed up on beaches, many of residents have fallen
ill, suffering from mouth infections, abdominal bleeding and skin
problems, among other diseases…United States, along with United
Nations are working on the issue to find a solution. We have to put
some trust and hope on them…”
Bill stopped talking for a moment. He was
concerned about the situation. Bill didn’t necessary support
radical positions of some environmentalist, but as many citizens of
the world, he preferred to live in a responsible and healthy world
“Unfortunately, we might be facing the same problem soon.” added
Bill.
“What do you mean?” asked Lorna.
“Fukushima disaster…Nuclear waste were found in
the pacific. A tide of radioactive trash and chemical waste is
pushing ever closer to North America…They get rid of their waste in
the water and they continue to blame the current and strong
waves.”
A teen girl wearing a scarf on her head shyly
approached. The locks of her black curly hair exceeded the
headscarf she was wearing.
"You can remove your scarf if you want,
honey!"
Lorna realized that the girl did not understand
a word of English. She caught up in Arabic, making signs with her
hands.
“ Hijab , hijab! ”
Startled, the young girl immediately put her
hand on her head holding the scarf and ran off, leaving the
Americans looking after her in bemusement.
Bol sauntered over, smiling menacingly and spoke
dryly, "You are not supposed to take pictures of our women here."
Lorna ignored Bol and continued enjoying her new activity. Their
next two customers were older children, and the next three were
teenagers that came out of the landfill. They came slowly, eyes
drifting more often than not to the lounging soldiers off to one
side. Only the powerful click of the camera kept them coming.
"Can you take a picture of the three of us?" one
asked.
"Sure."
The boys immediately shifted into different
poses, laughing at each other as they tried to outdo each
exaggerated pose. One of the youths pulled out a gun from the waist
of his pants and waved it in the air. Pretending nothing was wrong,
Lorna took several pictures.
While she was printing them off, Bill asked the
youths, “Why carry a weapon?"
"We pirates!" responded proudly one of them.
"Hope you have no intention of kidnapping us,"
Lorna said slyly.
"Worry no, ma'am! We job at sea, not land. Land,
Al-Shabab takes care."
"But you probably know everything that happens
in town, don’t you?"
"You bet. Merca is home town.”
Bill said, “We’re here to find out who killed
those two boys over there.” He nodded towards where the bodies of
the boys had been buried under the refuse of the landfill.
The three teenage boys glanced at each other and
darted away like spooked animals, not even getting their
pictures.
“Oh, very well done,” Lorna muttered
sarcastically. “You should volunteer to be a diplomat.”
“Hey, they’ll be back.” He looked towards where
they had disappeared. “I think.”
“Aren’t you the cynical optimist.”
He threw her a mock glare. “Well, we know one
thing, anyway.”
“What’s that?”
“They did see something.”
She turned to look around. “I suppose you’re
right. But are you sure their deaths have to do with the reason
we’re here?”
He glanced her way. She had not been told the
specifics of the mission since it was need to know. “I have no
idea. But the timing, the location, and the circumstances fit.
Actually, I’m hoping it is nothing, and that this is just some
random killing.”
“If it is?”
“Then we