If You Should Have Any Need at All
If You Should Have Any Need at All
By Keir Graff
Chicago Reader, December 20, 2007
(Illustration by Jon Adams)
He had visited more than 200 cities in 70 countries, but this was his first trip to Dubai. The plane landed at noon. Hungover and half asleep, he rode in an electric cart through the gleaming airport to the baggage claim, where a slim Pakistani man in a crisp blue suit was holding a sign that read “Brazilian.”
He climbed out of the cart. “I’m David Brazilian.”
“Thank you very much, Mr. Brazilian. Please follow me, Mr. Brazilian.”
The Pakistani turned and parted the crowd. Brazilian followed, realizing belatedly that his bags were already piled on the hand cart piloted by the Pakistani. Had the hotel requested a description of his luggage? Had he given it to them?
The limousine was waiting in a covered arcade so shady it might as well have been inside. Brazilian settled into the cool leather seat and felt his head throb as his bags thumped into the trunk.
The Pakistani driver got behind the wheel and closed his door. He apologized for letting the heat in.
“Apology accepted,” said Brazilian. “Mister—?”
“Thank you, Mr. Brazilian,” said the driver.
“Your name. I didn’t get your name.”
“Please, Mr. Brazilian, I ask that you do not trouble yourself.”
The limousine glided out of the arcade and merged with an airport road. Even through the tinted windows the sun was blinding. Brazilian glimpsed a thermometer on a billboard that read 43 degrees Celsius—easily triple digits Fahrenheit.
The sun was high overhead and without shadows everything looked flat. Flat, tan, and baked dry. They drove into the city on roads so hot and clean and smooth you could fry an egg on them and eat it too.
He had heard rumors that the government was struggling to deal with the threat posed by a terrorist group calling itself Al Qaeda in Emirates. But if this group even existed, he thought, they needed a better PR agent. Dubai looked safer than Las Vegas.