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It was Barbara’s mother, Lisa. ‘Oh, I’m so glad your home,’ she said, breathless and frantic. ‘Lisa, what’s wrong?’ ‘Is Karen home?’...‘She has a touch of the flu, and went to bed early.’ She blurted out, ‘It’s Barbara, I haven’t seen her all day. I don’t know where she is, and I can’t get her on her cell…’ She continued to ramble on in full panic mode, and ramping frantically higher with each passing second. ‘Lisa, what is she, nineteen, twenty? She’s probably at a friend’s house.’ ‘No, you. Other than the clothes on her back, the Oud and a cheap portable cassette player were her only worldly goods. The girl, whose name was Nura, raised extra food to sell at market to buy strings for the Oud and batteries for the player. She could not read music but she had a cousin who made bootleg cassette tapes from recordings he made off his radio. He sold these in the market with a total disregard for copyright and the confidence that no one was likely to enter this hell hole to catch him. His. It didn’t belong to my Daddy.It belonged to Uncle Simple.I thought Simple was a strange name and asked my Ma why he had that unusual name because he certainly looked more devious than simple to me. My Ma laughed and told me,“We call him Simple because he always used to chase the young girls with a one-track mind. You be right careful around him because he never asks for permission and simply sticks it in before a girl rightly knows what is going on.”For some strange reason that sounded totally. Derek had carefully packed his survival gear, his tiny two man tent from the Army-Navy store and the assorted necessities of roughing it in the wilderness for a three day holiday. The long planned back-packing expedition was to have included the luscious Marsha as well but he had no time to call and tell the others that she would not be making the trip. Besides, it was the type of phone conversation that he dreaded the most.He shuffled various phony stories and lies in his head for create.
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