Lady Death by Brian Drake (good e books to read .TXT) 📕

“That’s not funny.”

The British girl stopped laughing. “Get down here. I got a table on the aisle.”

Francesca ended the call and Tanya scoffed and looked around her kitchen. Every surface was spotless. She had decorations and pictures, but the place always felt lifeless. The idea of a relaxing night out instead of a frozen dinner appealed after all. All right. She would join Fran at the bar.

She knew about the rally at the beer hall. Everybody in the immediate neighborhood knew. People elsewhere in the city knew if they were paying attention.

The week prior, a local man, a refugee from the Middle East, crashed a truck into an outdoor café. He killed fifteen people. Police shot him as he attempted to escape. Jihadists claimed responsibility for the incident.

There had already been one public protest against Muslims in Germany. The protest leaders used megaphones to address the gathered crowd. They claimed terrorists had come to take advantage of and kill the German people. There was only one way to deal with such scum. Nobody wanted to think about the consequences of such actions. Many didn’t want to acknowledge the uttered words. But Tanya knew the instigators had struck a nerve.

After the protest, signs posted around Berlin proclaimed:

Islam Is Not The Enemy.

We are a Target Too.

This Is Wrong. Come See Why.

Each sign showed the date and time of the beer hall meeting.

Tensions were still high after the crash and initial protest. Muslims in the city reported incidents of harassment. Francesca feared the harassment would lead to something worse and told Tanya of her worries. She’d seen similar events and backlashes in Britain.

As Tanya grabbed her purse and car keys, she wondered what the night might have in store. Hopefully something more interesting than sitting on the couch until bedtime.

Bodies occupied every available bench space except for the seat Francesca had saved. Fran had also ordered a stein of Tanya’s preferred light beer. She took an appreciative sip as she looked around.

Usual mix of young and old faces. The older men dressed like college professors and leaned heavily toward tweed jackets. Their female companions also kept their attire conservative.

The younger people were an equal mix of free spirits and young professionals fresh from the office.

Tanya and Francesca fit somewhere in the middle.

Francesca still wore her work clothes. Tanya had changed to jeans and a Tee-shirt as soon as she returned home.

The hall represented the long history of public gatherings in Germany. Attached to a smaller bar, anybody who could afford the nightly rate was welcome to rent the room.

It wasn’t correct to call it a “hall”. The room was minuscule compared to the 5,000 seat Mathäser (now a cinema) when it was a beer hall. Nor was it anything like the Bürgerbräukeller where Hitler spoke in the early days of the Nazis. But the goal was the same. Provide a place for the public to listen to ideas and discuss the ideas afterwards.

The public often needed a personal outlet of expression. Call-in talk shows served the purpose but were impersonal. The beer halls provided the personal touch required. Tanya had attended many such meetings, mostly at the behest of her father.

Two men of Middle Eastern descent stepped on stage. One carried a notebook. He looked nervous. Tanya saw his hands shaking. The second man stood quietly, hands behind his back, a confident thrust to his chin.

Francesca leaned close. “He’s the one I told you about.”

“You met?”

“Before everybody got here, yeah.”

“Sheik Ahmad the Hunk” she had said. He certainly fit the part. Every inch of his body appeared lean and well-muscled.

The man at the podium looked at his friend for encouragement and faced the audience again.

He introduced himself as Tamal and his friend as Ahmad. He spoke timidly at first, but as he continued his voice grew in confidence and volume. He talked about growing up in Iraq and fleeing to Germany during the United States invasion. He talked about giving up his home and his friends and everything he knew to make a new life in a new land. He feared his new home would reject him because of the actions of a few. He wanted Berliners to know his people wanted peace as much as they did.

When Ahmad finally took the microphone, he needed no notes. He spoke perfect English with a light accent. He told a similar story of escaping the Middle East. He added a touching account of his ailing grandfather. He hadn’t wanted to leave Syria, but the war forced them out. And now Ahmad feared for the vulnerable in his family.

The audience listened with quiet respect and applauded when the speeches concluded. Some stood. Tanya stared at Ahmad as if in a trance. Francesca nudged her. “You didn’t touch your beer.”

Tanya put the stein to her mouth and rectified the error.

The two men stayed for questions after the meeting broke up.

Francesca and Tanya waited against a wall as the pair spoke to well-wishers. Some had more questions. By the time Francesca finally pushed Tanya to them, it was getting late.

But any thoughts of getting to bed early left Tanya’s mind the second she met Ahmad’s eyes. They were rich, dark eyes. She had to look up a little to meet his gaze, but she didn’t mind at all.

“This is Tanya,” Francesca said, “the co-worker I told you about.”

Ahmad and Tanya shook hands and he asked what she thought of his speech. She appreciated his vulnerability and candor and offered to help spread the word.

They talked more about where they worked and their current lives. Tanya glanced behind Ahmad and noticed Francesca had cornered Tamal for herself.

As far as Tanya was concerned, it was a good night.

She departed after taking a selfie with both men, and an extra picture of only her and Ahmad. They exchanged cell numbers too. She wanted to see him again. He didn’t object to the idea.

Francesca laughed with excitement.

“I can’t believe it!” she