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R O B E R T B A R C L A Y chapter one The Jungle Bar, Kolonia, Pohnpei, Stella It's tourist feet, two pairs in the same fancy new sandals, one on each side of the puddle under the gate. Little red toes and Band-Aids under the straps, man and woman. They push inside in their yellow coats, trying not to be noticed in their yellow coats, then whisper and nod before they totter out again, worried they might catch giardia off a dirty glass, I think. I look around and see who's still here: just Mike and the new Peace Corps getting started, and Gene, poor Gene off all alone at the private table, poor Gene hoping and waiting in the dark, and then only old Castro like every payday drooling and passed out half on the pool table and I think, Dead tonight, going to be dead tonight. Maybe have a little fun with Mike and Gene and the new Peace Corps. Ruthie can handle things by herself. I give Ruthie a look. "Sure, go ahead," Ruthie says. "I'll just fire you again." She's got a little tv under the bar to watch the
Manoa – University of Hawai'I Press
Published: Nov 30, 2004
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