Navigation bar
  Home Print document Start Previous page
 270 of 405 
Next page End Contents 265 266 267 268 269 270 271 272 273 274 275  

the vantage point of the manicured lawn, filled with dapper
Ethiopians and decorated with white wedding regalia, it looked to
Roy exactly as he imagined a modern African paradise should. He felt
stupid wearing the threadbare, ill-fitting maroon tuxedo.
A very fat and sweating drunk fellow came up to him, babbling
rapidly in the Ethiopian language.
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand Amharic very well,” Roy said.
“How can that be?” the man said, “What, are you Oromo?
Gurage? Somali?”
“No, American.”
“Ha ha!” he laughed, “Very funny. Get me some champagne.”
“But I’m not a waiter,” Roy insisted. “I’m a pilgrim.”
“Pilgrim? I don’t know this word. Now put some champagne in
my glass or I put my foot in your arse. Ha ha!”
“Look, I’m serious. I’m an American from Los Angeles. These
aren’t my clothes.”
“Impertinent!” the man said and pushed Roy to the ground.
Everyone stopped to look over at Roy, dazed and weak on the grass.
He gazed up at the leafy green trees shimmering gaily in front the
sky. The bellboy came over and helped him up.
“You are a very bad man,” he admonished the fat aggressor, “This
is one of our honored guests! Mister Makonnen from United States.
Shame on top of you.”
“Now I am getting bad manners from twowaiters,” the fat man
said, “What is my country coming to? Will someone please get me
some champagne? I’m afraid I am nearly sober!” He waddled off in
search of more booze and left Roy and the bellboy in peace.
“I am sorry,” the bellboy said, “Maybe I find you some other
clothes.” He helped Roy back into a standing position.
“No, don’t worry,” Roy said and merely removed the maroon
jacket. “I really need to eat something,” Roy said, clutching his
growling belly. “Which way to the buffet table?” The bellboy escorted
him to the dining area.
Roy took a plate and waited in line, but the line wasn’t moving.
People were craning their necks backward to see what the holdup
was, but Roy couldn’t see because all the other heads were trying to
peer around the other craned heads and the only way to see around
them was to step out and risk losing one’s place in line. Roy took a
chance and quickly stepped out. He saw who was causing the holdup:
a stocky white man in safari hat and a vest outfitted with every
ABYSSINIA
270
http://www.purepage.com Previous page Top Next page