Burridge Unbound by Alan Cumyn Page B

Sikhs. True Sikhs do not fight on the side of injustice.
    I thank you and my family thanks you.
In peace, Jaswant Kashmir Singh
    A victory! I let the moment shine, then flip through other disasters: a Catholic priest has disappeared in Guangzhou, probably detained for running an underground church; there’s a new outbreak of riots against ethnic Chinese in central Java; in Kosovo, Albanians are disappearing at the hands of Serb police while Serbs, Roma, and Albanians are being abducted by the Kosovo Liberation Army.
    Derrick calls then from somewhere in Algonquin Park. “Did you read
The Islander
today?” he asks.
    “Derrick, you’re on holiday.”
    “It doesn’t matter. Did you read it?”
    “Of course I read it.”
    “But just now–”
    “Are you in a canoe or something Derrick?”
    “I’m on dry land. Don’t worry about me. Just read the news.”
    I flip over to the
Islander
site.
SULI HOLDS MASSIVE RALLY BETWEEN TWO ARMIES
    23 August 1998
Dorut Kul
    Freedom Party leader Suli Nylioko is holding a massive rally this morning on Kalindas Boulevard. Joined by tens of thousands of supporters and ordinary citizens, she is standing between troops loyal to former President Minitzh’s cousin Tinto and those following the command of Armed Forces Chief Mende Kul.
    The tense standoff began early this morning when a rumour spread through the capital that Kul had ordered troops to prepare for an attack on the presidential compound, where Tinto has made his headquarters. Freedom Party supporters immediately mobilized over a hundred
tritos
which sped throughout the city, horns blaring, the drivers shouting at citizens to come out on the streets. It is not clear how the party was able to convince so many independent
tritos
drivers to participate so quickly, but the effect has been one of a mass movement. Adults and children poured out of their apartments and greeted the dawn between two armies stalled for now across a barrier of innocent lives.
    One startling characteristic of the Kalindas demonstration is its silence. There are no loudspeakers, Suli is broadcasting no speeches, the tanks that are pointed across the civilians are still. A light rain greeted the dawn but then was replaced by brilliant sunshine, and the civilians are now kneeling and sitting in silent prayer. Suli is in the middle dressed in a simple but brilliant blue
saftori
traditional to the Upong tribe of central Santa Irene.
    Neither Tinto nor General Kul have issued any statements on the situation, which is ongoing.
    Derrick calls back. “Nobody’s covering it,” he says. “CNN, BBC, nobody’s there.”
    “The airport’s closed,” I say.
    “And the stock market is imploding.”
    “How are you getting all this stuff in the bush? You’re supposed to be paddling around.”
    “And I am,” he says. “But I bought a few toys. Don’t worry, the budget can handle it.”
    I don’t ask Derrick about money and he doesn’t tell me. It’s better that way. Dollars come to him naturally – he waves my name around and money arrives. If he wants a few toys it’s all right with me.
    “Derrick,” I say, “you’re brilliant but sick. Turn it all off. The world will still be here when you get back.”
    “Yes, yes. I can turn it off whenever I want.”
    I try calling a contact at the State Department, but just get his voice mail. So I wait by the screen, watching for an update. Newswatch isn’t covering it, AP isn’t there, no word from Reuters. A strangely invisible event. I call the reporter from the BBC who phoned me before – not at his desk. Same with the CBC reporter who was interested before.
    Late afternoon turns into evening. No new report. Joanne has tried to get me out for a walk but I won’t budge. It’s already tomorrow in Santa Irene. The event has happened, whatever it was. The event has happened but I haven’t heard the shouting.
    “You didn’t visit your son,” Joanne says, and for a moment I don’t know what she’s talking