Saving Fish from Drowning - Heal Burma

SAVING FISH FROM DROWNING
Children in yellow knitted caps and fat snowsuits rode in sleds pulled
by their mothers, who also wore yellow. A trio of men, expelling
clouds as they laughed and talked, held a large banner that said:
“Mayville’s 1,981 Folks Are Praying for Our Native Son.” In the
May-Port CG high school auditorium, yet another bake sale was go­
ing on, the fourth in the past week, with goods sold by the teachers.
Hotcakes decorated with sugary yellow bows sold like hotcakes, and
behind the tables a huge banner read: “American Crystal Sugar
Company Wishes Our Best to the Fletcher Family.”
“Brrrr! How cold is it in Mayville today?” the reporter asked one
of the teachers.
“I heard it’s six degrees,” said the woman. “Balmy for us!”
In another part of the auditorium, the high school band was play­
ing a passable rendition of “America the Beautiful.” Several women
sat behind tables laden with yellow scarves, a sign proclaiming:
“Hand-knitted by the May-Port PTA.”
The reporter was now leading the cameraman to a woman who
claimed she was Wyatt’s girlfriend.
“My what?” Wyatt said.
Wendy leaned forward, her heart racing. So Wyatt had a girlfriend
all along. No wonder he seemed emotionally unavailable. “Tell our
viewers,” the reporter said, “what Wyatt is like,” and he aimed the
microphone at a short woman with frizzy bleached-blond hair. Her
face sagged at the jowls, and she had drawn black liner around her
eyes, Cleopatra style. “Who the hell is that?” Wyatt muttered. Moff
and Dwight were hooting.
The reporter asked the woman to describe what Wyatt was like as a
boyfriend. She hesitated, and then said in the deep, grating voice of a
longtime smoker, “Hell, he’d do anything for you as a friend, and vice
versa.” She looked down and gave a coy smile. “He’s a real nice man.”
Jungle whoops went up among Moff, Dwight, and Roxanne. Moff
socked Wyatt on the arm and said, “Way to go.” Wyatt was shaking
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