We got out of the flat safely and downstairs to the garage without the manager, Mrs. Wood, or Josiah, the building watchman, seeing us. There, inside the car, plump Elizabeth crouched on the back floor of my little BMW with difficulty as we drove out of the garage. A few blocks later, I let her out to get into the front seat with me, as we usually did.
Lt. Esteheuzen laid his gun on his desk. Jack and I sat opposite him, visibly shaken.... Then he slowly and deliberately removed the bullets one by one, set them on end, looked at them thoughtfully, then carefully reinserted them. After a long pause, he said, "Well, I won't need Mr. Schneider anymore, but you," he said, looking at me with another pause to let it sink in, "will return Monday morning to answer some questions."
"But I thought the 'X'...means no, not him. Like the bike signs," one man said to me, puzzled, as I was trying to help him understand the ballot.... "Should I put an 'X' in front of every name except Mandela's?" the cleaning woman asked.
|Publisher:||Elizabeth A. Schneider|
|Product dimensions:||5.50(w) x 8.50(h) x 0.39(d)|
About the Author
A professional artist and photographer, the author earned her Ph.D. in African Art at the University of Witwatersrand for "Paint, Pride and Politics," a study of the distinctive wall paintings by Ndebele tribal women. The New York Public Library named her book, The Ndebele, "Best Book for the Teenage" in 1998.
Elizabeth Schneider currently lives in Northern California.