Saving Fish from Drowning - Heal Burma

AMY TAN
few months earlier, the road had been opened for passage to third-
country nationals, but thus far no one had figured out the hellacious
and antiquated process necessary to gather paperwork and stamps
of approval from the proper authorities. When Bennie checked the
group into the hotel in Ruili, he asked the manager whether they
might stay longer, if necessary.
“No worries,” said the manager. He looked at the list of twelve
names Bennie had given him, along with the stack of passports, and
compared it with his records. “And Miss Bibi Chen, she is not here?”
Bennie was blindsided to hear my name yet again. “She couldn’t
come...a last-minute problem... I’m the tour leader now. My
travel agent did notify you.”
The man frowned. “Notify me?”
“What I mean is, the office of tourism. It should say that in your
records. It does, doesn’t it?...”
“Yes, yes, I see that now. She had accident and is in hospital.” He
looked up with another frown. “Terrible news.”
“Yes.” (If only he knew how terrible.)
“Please give greetings to her.”
“I will.”
“And welcome to you. This your first time in Ruili?”
“Actually I’ve visited the area before,” Bennie lied, “though not
Ruili itself.” He didn’t know if it was detrimental to admit he was a
neophyte.
“Excellent. May you have very good and happy stay with us.”
Meanwhile, both Dwight and the Shih Tzu puppy had recovered
sufficiently to be declared by Harry as having been “shooed away
from death’s door.” Dwight’s face was now the color of algae. As
soon as he arrived at the hotel, he crawled into his twin bed, assisted
by Roxanne, who brought him a glass of boiled water, as prescribed
by Dr. Harry. He took small sips, trying hard not to regurgitate, then
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