Saving Fish from Drowning - Heal Burma

AMY TAN
Bennie spoke up. “I’m sure the tour company vetted this area and
can guarantee we’re in a safe place.”
Cautious eyes darted about toward dark edges of the forest. Since
Lijiang, they had not considered Bennie’s opinions to be that in­
formed. Moving slowly, they lifted their feet, inspected the backs of
their legs for blood-sucking, poisonous creatures. “That’s why I wear
permethrin-sprayed clothing and hundred percent DEET,” Heidi said.
“You sound like a commercial,” Moff joked.
“And that’s why I’m carrying this,” Heidi added. She held up her
improvised walking stick, a long slim branch.
Dwight snickered. “You think that’s going to keep you from get­
ting attacked by a tiger?”
“A snake,” she said. “I plant it ahead of where I walk. See?” She
turned over a leafy covering. A beetle slick with moisture scurried
away. “And that way if there’s a snake or something, it’ll attack the
stick first or crawl off.”
The others began rummaging around the forest floor for an ap­
propriately sized stick; Dwight did as well. Thus equipped, they were
soon on their way. Every few minutes screeches or curse words
pierced the air, signaling that one of them had found a gruesome
creature attached to a pant leg. Black Spot would come over and flick
the offender off.
“What’s this place we’re going?” Bennie asked. “Is it a village?”
“Not a village, smaller.”
“Smaller than a village,” Bennie mused. “Okay. Hamlet, settle­
ment, outskirts...private estate, enclave, gated community...
micrometropolis, compound, jail...”
Vera laughed at Bennie’s list.
“It is a place,” Black Spot said. “We are calling No Name Place.”
“And how much longer till we get to this No Name Place?”
Bennie asked.
“Very close,” Black Spot promised.
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