Saving Fish from Drowning - Heal Burma

AMY TAN
ated for a captive audience. To Harry, the tune sounded like a wail to
the universe. It was awful, he mused, well suited to the occasion.
T HE NIGHT BEFORE , Walter had assured them that the early wake-
up call would be worth it. “A sunrise on Christmas Day,” he had said,
“is the best present you can give yourselves. We’ll go in two of the
longboats to a beautiful spot on the lake. Dress warmly and do wear
sturdy shoes, no flip-flops. We’ll be doing a bit of walking. After the
sunrise, we’ll visit various factories making paper, woven cloth, and
cheroots. Bring a camera and a mid-morning snack. If you’re not on
the boats by six-fifteen, I will assume you preferred to sleep in, in
which case we’ll meet you in the Great Hall for lunch.”
At five-thirty in the morning, everyone but Harry rose for an early
breakfast. As for Harry, after listening to the drunken fisherman most
of the night, he had finally drifted off to sleep at four. With so much
alcohol in his bloodstream, his sedated brain kept him somnolent
until nearly noon, at which time he awoke with a terrific hangover.
In another corner of the resort, Heinrich was also awakening. He
often kept late hours. He took a brisk shower, dressed in his woven
silk trousers and shirt, and padded over in slapping sandals to the
dining hall to greet his guests for lunch. What a surprise to see the
hall was empty except for the Famous TV Star. “Aren’t they back
yet?” he asked.
“Apparently not,” Harry said, and sipped his coffee.
“And you stayed behind?”
“Apparently so.”
Heinrich went into his office to meet with three of his staff and or­
ganize for the day. He glanced at the schedule Walter had given him.
The sunrise viewing and morning shopping was supposed to last
only a few hours, with a return by ten or ten-thirty and lunch at
noon. Perhaps they had opted to do more Christmas shopping.
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