Black Coffee

I glanced at my watch, just on 7pm. I was at a loose end. The choice was Television or a stroll and have coffee at one of the street cafes. I chose the latter. Pocketing my door key I took the elevator down and walked through the hotel foyer, making a detour to the concierge’s desk to say I would be out for an hour or so.

I was at ease with the world, content. I wandered around for a bit, with an easy unhurried walk, nodding in greeting to anybody who met my eye.  finally I took a table at one of the busier cafés  A waiter materialized, a lanky fellow with slicked back black hair and a welcoming grin. “A nice evening to be out Senor, what is your pleasure?”

“Just a cappuccino one sugar please.” I handed him a small note and he was gone, returning five minutes later with the coffee and the change. I signed for him to keep the change. “thank you, Senor.” I sat there humming to myself, enjoying listening to the buzz of conversation. The place was close to full.  I seemed to be the only non-local patron. I became aware I had to use the toilet. I’m older now. The plumbing is working fine, but these days when I need to go, I need to go. I slowly scanned the place and eventually saw the small man and woman symbols over an entrance way to the left of the main counter.

I worked my way through the tables acknowledging the occasional smile directed at me. I was gratified to see I had selected the right place. The toilets were spotlessly clean. After doing my business I threaded my way back to my coffee. It would be cooling by now. I lifted the cup and finished it, intending to order another. That is where my memory stops.

I came back to consciousness, lying on my back in pitch blackness, dense and terrifying. I was breathing in short fast breaths. My mind raced, searching for answers, attempting to make sense of the situation. Where was I? What had happened? I recalled the café, my returning from the restroom, finishing the almost cold coffee, then nothing. I sat up, then clambered to my feet. I had been lying on straw, a lot of straw. I moved slowly forward arms outstretched. Eventually I contacted the formidable massive roughness of stonework, cold and immovable. I moved around the wall hand over hand until I had established I was in a small room or cell, about two meters on each side. The entire floor was covered in a thick layer of straw.

Then, along with a heavy feeling in my stomach, it came to me. Knock out drops of some sort had been dropped in the coffee while I was away. But why? Kidnapping? Did this country have a reputation for the kidnapping of foreigners. If so, I had not heard about it. By following the wall I found the door. A heavy steel door with no opening mechanisms on my side.

I struggled to come to terms with this brutal new reality. I had been relaxed, blissful, enjoying a cup of coffee, and now disoriented, panicked, in a pitch-black stone cell. I continued in this agitated state for some time, attempting to bring some stability into my mind, body and soul.

Without warning a small amount of light came under the door. Someone was coming. The light grew stronger and I heard the person doing what was necessary on the outside to open the door. The door creaked loudly as it swung open. A figure walked in with a torch. I could see nothing of him except that he was about my height and wearing a bandana on his head.

He swung the torch around until he located me, then he walked towards me. It was almost an unconscious response on my part. A moment of instant decision. A survival response, I guess. As he drew close , I grabbed the torch out of his hand and shone it directly into his eyes. I put all my strength into a roundhouse punch to his solar plexus. He dropped to his knees gasping for breath. I pushed him over sideways and gagged him with the bandana, tying it as tightly as I could at the back of his head. I stripped him of his wide leather belt, pulled his hands behind him, and did my best to tie an elaborate knot using the full length of the belt.

Beyond the cell door a narrow passageway snaked off into the distance. The walls the same stone as the cell. I saw light further up the corridor and could hear voices from that vicinity. It seemed to be a room. The voices increased in volume  as the men in the room walked out and into the passageway.

I had nowhere to go. It occurred to me to look up at the ceiling. It was supported by a wooden framework. If I could get up there, I could rest on the beams. I started up the stone wall. It wasn’t easy but provided just enough toe and hand holds to make progress. Near the top I lunged for the wood and managed get a firm grip, eventually hauling myself up onto the beams.

Torches were switched on as three men came down the passageway. I had closed and barred the cell door. They would think that strange since their friend had come down to open the door and presumably bring me out. Seeing the barred door all three came to a sudden halt like soldiers on a parade ground. Then rushing forward, they lifted the bar from the door, opened it and cautiously entered the cell. They located their friend quickly and I could hear them talking loudly in another language. One of the men had his arm wrapped around my prisoner in support, as they came out of the cell.

I froze. If they thought to look up, I was finished. As they passed under me a small wooden bracket, I had my hand on, broke loose from the large beam. I grabbed at it, lost my balance and with an involuntary yell of frustration I dropped like a stone upon the four men. It was no contest. Four against one. They soon had me firmly in their grip. I would be back in the cell in no time, and probably a lot worse for wear from a beating. 

They seemed to be trying to make me understand something but did not have enough English to get it across. Finally the man I had accosted managed to get it out in halting English. “Senor, Senor, we do not hurt you. I came to tell you our mistake. We think you are rich foreign businessman come to give  money to the communist party. This is our mistake. Our apologies Senor. You are free. We guide you out to the street, we give you directions back to the café.” Still numb at this sudden reversal in my fortune, I followed the four men through the labyrinth of passages. We came to a large wooden door. The exit to the street. One of the men held out his hand. “You forgive Senor, yes?” I turned away without extending my hand and stepped out into the sunshine.