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The tables around them were vacant. She couldn't tell if there was anyone else there."This is like their lunch rush?" she asked."I'll have a beer," her boyfriend told the waiter, "A Tsingtao."Conscious of the pause, she said, "Just water, thanks. Who is joining us?"Her boyfriend said nothing.She looked down at her plate. In its shine a shadow of pale vague reflection gazed up at her, her mind supplied the details: face tense, hair streaming on either side, lips thin with uncertainty, eyes. As I grew up we were constantly moving from town to town and country to country (I was actually born in Saigon, South Vietnam). The longest we ever stayed in one place was 16 months, and usually it was only half that. As you can imagine we seldom had time to make friends, and we didn't have any family around, so we depended on, and became very close, to each other.I take after the man who was my father. I am only 5'6" with fairly normal features. But I did inherit something from my moms. The Williams' house was only a few doors down the street.Marcy had liked Coleen from the moment she and Kirk moved in. Somewhat older, Coleen had been a valuable friend and advisor to the young, inexperienced housewife. Her easy manner and sense of humor had, on many occasions, made the difference in getting Marcy through a particularly exasperating day and she now considered the attractive Black as much a second mother as friend.Coleen's husband Jamal was another matter. A grade school dropout. What disturbedme the most was how she seemed to have read my mind. "Excuse me?" I asked her. "It is just that....you looked so sad, just then." "I'm sorry," I apologized as I began to move away fromher. My invisible barrier jumped up between us, forcing meaway. "....please. Don't go. Talk to me." Her simple request was innocent andstraightforward. Therewas not a trace of artifice in her musical voice. I choked down the urge to just turn and run. Normally, thatis.
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