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Description
        She looked younger than I expected her to, but not so young that I couldn’t catch the summarizing glance and subsequent satisfied look that crossed her face the moment she saw me. I did not threaten her, the look said. Not my neatly pressed black suit, not the vaguely officious black car parked outside, and certainly not my pale little handshake. Like some queen holding court she waved me to a chair by the window. I moved to it but stayed standing, hoping to assert some semblance of a presence.
        “Thank you for taking the time to meet with me, Ms. Marid. I would like to ask you a couple questions regarding your cousin Darr. I have been working with Darr for several weeks now in regards to a large translation project, and only two days ago found that he left the States. Unfortunately, he’s not gotten very far into the work, and has possibly taken the original documents with him. He left no indication of where he’d gone. I would appreciate it if you could share any information you have, in regards to where he might be, or if he took anything with him.”
        The speech I’d practiced at the office did not come off as irreproachably stern as I’d have liked. Not only that, I had to take my jacket off before I made the unseemly impression of a sweating pig. It was pleasantly warm outside, unseasonably warm even, but she must have had the heater cranked up something wicked. The air inside the room was just this side of stifling, without so much as a window cracked open to let a breeze through. To look at her, you’d think it was the dead of winter in the tundra – she wore a quilted linen jacket and a heavy velvety blanket draped across her lap and snuggled halfway up her torso. I’d be suffocating in that getup, but she seemed quite comfortable, clutching her fine hands around a porcelain cup of steaming tea.
        “I am sorry my cousin could not have been of greater help to you before he departed the country,” she said once I’d doffed my jacket on a nearby chair. Hard to read her; the formality and faintly lyrical quality of her speech threw off my normally instantaneous judgmental sense.
        “Have you been in contact with him since he left?”
        She smiled the sort of chiding smile you’d give a child who asks an innocently naïve question. “I am afraid that is impossible. There are very few modern communication devices in the area of Ahaggar, and certainly none for a man of so little means.”
        I fought the urge to ask why a woman of so many means would not offer financial help to her cousin, then fought the urge to use the silky curtains framing the window to wipe my sweat-beaded brow. I rolled up my shirtsleeves, briefly wondering if she noticed my discomfort in the heat of the room. If she did it didn’t seem to bother her.
        “Do you know the reason why he left so suddenly?”
        “No more than you, Mr. Stauber. If you have worked with my cousin, you will understand that he pursues his own motivations, however inscrutable they may often be, with a great sense of direction and despite any apparent consequences.”
        Internally, I swore a few times. Yeah, Darr tended to do his own thing. Only problem was his own thing often ran on the wrong side of the law. He’d end up perched atop a water tower at midnight, crooning wordlessly to the dark, and the occasional passerby. Or found in the basement of a gardening store, lighting candles and flinging incense around. I’d had to pitch him out of a holding cell or two over the past couple weeks, those dark eyes burning furiously indignant that the police had dared to detain him. He never stole anything, and could not explain his trespassing beyond “needing to be there, at that time.”
        So while I wasn’t necessarily surprised that he’d suddenly gone elsewhere without explanation, it didn’t make sense to me that he’d take the documents with him. The originals too – all the copies we provided him with were spit upon as “useless kindling”, no matter how high quality they were.
        “I don’t want to be indelicate, but my primary concern is for what he took with him. Those documents are irreplaceable originals. I’m not sure if he intends to sell them. It’d probably be easier to find a buyer in the States. And he was promised a very reasonable sum of money upon completion of his work with me, in addition to the regular wage we gave during the project.” I shouldn’t have been blathering out my private musings, but frustration and impatience got the better of me.
        She drew the teacup up close to her face, the steam drawing faint swirling spirals around and over her eyes. Slow to answer, she finally replied, “Perhaps my cousin has found something in those papers worth far more to him than very reasonable sums of money.”
        I tried to bite my tongue. My internal agitation increasingly matched my physical discomfort. Every question dodged, every answer like shouting into a cave and hearing only the echo come back. “Forgive me, Ms. Marid, but what could an out-of-work taxi driver with little to no formal education find so compelling in historically insignificant papers written in a near-dead language?”
        Something in her eyes flickered and snapped like a candle flame in a quick updraft, then went very still. “If that is a question which you seriously seek to answer, Mr. Stauber, I would suggest you to get a change of clothes and board the next flight to Algeria. I will not bear this rudeness in my own home.” Her voice had all the finality of stone.
        A change of clothes. Sounded like an excellent idea, especially considering how sweaty I’d gotten. I scooped up my jacket, feeling more than a little scorned. “Thank you, Ms. Marid.” I could just feel her glare burning into my back as I headed for the door.
        Outside, I let out a giant breath, loosening my tie. It felt ridiculously good to be out in fresh air. I’ve never been to Algeria, but I had a feeling I’d be getting acquainted with the place very soon.

Description
        She looked younger than I expected her to, but not so young that I couldn’t catch the summarizing glance and subsequent satisfied look that crossed her face the moment she saw me. I did not threaten her, the look said. Not my neatly pressed black suit, not the vaguely officious black car parked outside, and certainly not my pale little handshake. Like some queen holding court she waved me to a chair by the window. I moved to it but stayed standing, hoping to assert some semblance of a presence.
        “Thank you for taking the time to meet with me, Ms. Marid. I would like to ask you a couple questions regarding your cousin Darr. I have been working with Darr for several weeks now in regards to a large translation project, and only two days ago found that he left the States. Unfortunately, he’s not gotten very far into the work, and has possibly taken the original documents with him. He left no indication of where he’d gone. I would appreciate it if you could share any information you have, in regards to where he might be, or if he took anything with him.”
        The speech I’d practiced at the office did not come off as irreproachably stern as I’d have liked. Not only that, I had to take my jacket off before I made the unseemly impression of a sweating pig. It was pleasantly warm outside, unseasonably warm even, but she must have had the heater cranked up something wicked. The air inside the room was just this side of stifling, without so much as a window cracked open to let a breeze through. To look at her, you’d think it was the dead of winter in the tundra – she wore a quilted linen jacket and a heavy velvety blanket draped across her lap and snuggled halfway up her torso. I’d be suffocating in that getup, but she seemed quite comfortable, clutching her fine hands around a porcelain cup of steaming tea.
        “I am sorry my cousin could not have been of greater help to you before he departed the country,” she said once I’d doffed my jacket on a nearby chair. Hard to read her; the formality and faintly lyrical quality of her speech threw off my normally instantaneous judgmental sense.
        “Have you been in contact with him since he left?”
        She smiled the sort of chiding smile you’d give a child who asks an innocently naïve question. “I am afraid that is impossible. There are very few modern communication devices in the area of Ahaggar, and certainly none for a man of so little means.”
        I fought the urge to ask why a woman of so many means would not offer financial help to her cousin, then fought the urge to use the silky curtains framing the window to wipe my sweat-beaded brow. I rolled up my shirtsleeves, briefly wondering if she noticed my discomfort in the heat of the room. If she did it didn’t seem to bother her.
        “Do you know the reason why he left so suddenly?”
        “No more than you, Mr. Stauber. If you have worked with my cousin, you will understand that he pursues his own motivations, however inscrutable they may often be, with a great sense of direction and despite any apparent consequences.”
        Internally, I swore a few times. Yeah, Darr tended to do his own thing. Only problem was his own thing often ran on the wrong side of the law. He’d end up perched atop a water tower at midnight, crooning wordlessly to the dark, and the occasional passerby. Or found in the basement of a gardening store, lighting candles and flinging incense around. I’d had to pitch him out of a holding cell or two over the past couple weeks, those dark eyes burning furiously indignant that the police had dared to detain him. He never stole anything, and could not explain his trespassing beyond “needing to be there, at that time.”
        So while I wasn’t necessarily surprised that he’d suddenly gone elsewhere without explanation, it didn’t make sense to me that he’d take the documents with him. The originals too – all the copies we provided him with were spit upon as “useless kindling”, no matter how high quality they were.
        “I don’t want to be indelicate, but my primary concern is for what he took with him. Those documents are irreplaceable originals. I’m not sure if he intends to sell them. It’d probably be easier to find a buyer in the States. And he was promised a very reasonable sum of money upon completion of his work with me, in addition to the regular wage we gave during the project.” I shouldn’t have been blathering out my private musings, but frustration and impatience got the better of me.
        She drew the teacup up close to her face, the steam drawing faint swirling spirals around and over her eyes. Slow to answer, she finally replied, “Perhaps my cousin has found something in those papers worth far more to him than very reasonable sums of money.”
        I tried to bite my tongue. My internal agitation increasingly matched my physical discomfort. Every question dodged, every answer like shouting into a cave and hearing only the echo come back. “Forgive me, Ms. Marid, but what could an out-of-work taxi driver with little to no formal education find so compelling in historically insignificant papers written in a near-dead language?”
        Something in her eyes flickered and snapped like a candle flame in a quick updraft, then went very still. “If that is a question which you seriously seek to answer, Mr. Stauber, I would suggest you to get a change of clothes and board the next flight to Algeria. I will not bear this rudeness in my own home.” Her voice had all the finality of stone.
        A change of clothes. Sounded like an excellent idea, especially considering how sweaty I’d gotten. I scooped up my jacket, feeling more than a little scorned. “Thank you, Ms. Marid.” I could just feel her glare burning into my back as I headed for the door.
        Outside, I let out a giant breath, loosening my tie. It felt ridiculously good to be out in fresh air. I’ve never been to Algeria, but I had a feeling I’d be getting acquainted with the place very soon.