The Quest

Purcell said to Mercado, “Give him twenty thousand.”

“That’s about fifteen dollars, Frank. He makes about a dollar a day.”

“That’s more than L’Osservatore Romano is paying me. Let’s go.”

Mercado reluctantly gave the driver a twenty-thousand-lire note, and the man stared at it, then started his car and drove off.

On the way down the plateau, Mercado attempted a few words of conversation with the driver in Amharic, Italian, and English.

Vivian said to Purcell, “I don’t think we should fly the Navion back here. That would be one trip too many.” She suggested, “We’ll take the commercial flight here when we’re ready to begin our journey.”

“We need one more recon flight to check out anything that looks interesting on your photographs.”

“I’m not even sure we’re getting out of here.”

“We have been chosen to get out of here.”

She didn’t reply.

As they climbed the steep, narrow road toward the walls of the city, Mercado turned and said, “This driver was actually waiting for a Soviet Air Force general.”

Vivian laughed. “Then why did he take us?”

Purcell replied, “Because Henry gave him a month’s pay.”

Mercado said, “Nothing has gone right today.”

Purcell disagreed. “I didn’t crash, and we didn’t get arrested.”

“The day is not over.”

Chapter 39

Mercado directed the driver to the Italian-built piazza in the center of Gondar. They stood in the cool sunshine and looked around at the shops, cinema, and public buildings designed by Italian architects in 1930s modern Fascist style.

Mercado said, “This looked better in 1941.”

“So did you,” Purcell pointed out.

Mercado ignored that and said, “Gondar is where the Italian Army made its last stand against the British in ’41.” He stayed quiet awhile, then continued, “I was traveling as a war correspondent with the British Expeditionary Force by then… we’d taken Addis from the Italians six months before, and Haile Selassie was back on the throne.”

Purcell looked at Henry Mercado standing in the piazza. The man had seen a great deal of life, and death, and war, and hopefully some peace. He had, in fact, seen the twentieth century in all its triumphs and disappointments, its progress and failures.

It was a wonder, Purcell thought, that Mercado had anything left in him. Or that he could still believe in something like the Holy Grail. Or believe in love.

Purcell glanced at Vivian, who was looking at Henry. Purcell hadn’t meant to take Henry’s lady.

Mercado nodded toward the cinema. “The British soldiers watched captured Italian movies, and I stood on the stage and shouted the translations.” He laughed. “I made up some very funny sexual dialogue.”

Vivian laughed, and Purcell, too, smiled.

Mercado pointed to a large public building. “That was where the British Army put its headquarters. The Union Jack used to fly right there.” He informed them, “Gann told me he was here as well, but we never met. Or if we did, it was in a state of intoxication and we don’t remember.”

Purcell wondered if thirty-five years from now he’d be here, or in some other place from his past, telling a younger companion about how it was way back then. Probably not. Henry had been exceedingly lucky at cheating death; Purcell felt lucky, too, but not that lucky.

Mercado continued, “The Italians carried on a surprisingly strong guerrilla war in the countryside against the Brits for two more years before they finally surrendered this last piece of their African empire. By then I was traveling with the British Army in North Africa.” He stayed quiet a moment, then said, “I always meant to come back to Ethiopia, and especially to Gondar. And here I am.”

Vivian said to him, “Show us around, Henry.”

They left the piazza and walked into the old city, which was as otherworldly as it appeared from the air: a collection of brick and stone palaces, churches, fortifications, an old synagogue, and ruins. It looked almost medieval, Purcell thought, though the architecture was unlike anything he’d seen in Europe or elsewhere.

Vivian took photographs as Mercado pointed out a few buildings that he remembered. He observed, “There seem to be fewer people here than I remember.” He informed them, “Gondar and the surrounding area is where most of the Jewish population in Ethiopia lives. I think, however, the Jews have left, along with the nobility, the merchant class, and the last of the Italian expats.”

Vivian pointed out, “If you lived where General Getachu lived, you’d get out, too.”

Mercado also told them, “The Falashas, along with the last of the Royalists, and other traditional elements in the surrounding provinces, have formed a resistance against the Marxists. So Getachu is not completely paranoid when he sees spies and enemies all around him.” He added, “The countryside is unsettled and dangerous.”

Vivian asked, “Does that include the area where we will be traveling?”

“We will find out.”