Chapter 8

     In this last chapter of  My Heart Is Like a Cabbage prior to our reunion in DC, Jerry Mills chronicles an abysmal first Christmas abroad by his protagonist Stephen, who sees things go from bad to worse and worst.  Here are the first few paragraphs; for the rest of the chapter, click on the link under "Pages."

“Kusheh, Mr. Livingston,” a voice, nearly a whisper, said from somewhere behind me.

A hair-raising rush brought my body to high alert, and the paperback I was reading fell to the floor.   Visitors were forever materializing from nowhere at our bungalow.

Craning my neck, I saw Kadiatu leaning against the arch at the entrance to the living room.

“Kusheh, Kadiatu.”  I retrieved the book hoping to disguise my lost composure.  “Aw di bohdi?”

“Di  bohdi wehl-o . . . tehnki,” she replied shyly.  “Mr. Clifford, he say to tell you dinner is almost ready.”