Oliver Benjamin
“Aw come on,” he whined, clearly insulted.
“I take it back. This is hardly the Fourth Reich. So anyway
friend, my friend,Ozzy Lama, you want to join me and my friends for
a drink tonight or will you and your subjects be having a Kool-Aid
party?”
“Sounds good, Rippy. Can I bring a date?”
“Of course, Oz. Be at Dee Tok’s Stumble Inn at ten.” I left the
compound shaking my head.
“Don’t rat on me Jake!” Oscar called after me.
“Don’t worry, no one would believe me anyway.”
CHAPTER 16
Oz showed up to Dee’s place with a beautiful Italian woman who
looked like Sophia Loren in her youth. She was at least a foot taller
than him. They made a ridiculous-looking couple, but she was clearly
enamored of him, repeating over and over how beautiful and wise he
was. The rest of the people at the table were confused.
“She’s incredible,” I whispered to Oscar, “Did you drug her?”
He passed me a bowl of pumpkin curry that was on the table and
snapped, “Fuk, you?”
We started to play drinking games and all was going well, when
a man walked up and silenced the table with his presence.
“Everyone, this is Tree. Tree this is everyone,” I said
diplomatically, “Come sit down over here.” I pointed to a chair next
to mine and he silently settled in it. Introductions were made and
despite obvious apprehension among the people already seated, he
was received warmly. He ordered a bottle of Mekong. Gradually,
everyone at the table loosened up and people began to talk openly
with the mysterious stranger.
“Could you recite some poetry for us Mr. Tree?” Belly asked
shyly.
“I don’t think you all would appreciate it very much.”
“Try me,” Belly insisted.
“All right then,” he acceded, then closed his eyes and recited
this:
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