Thursday, July 10, 2003

WTWHTAS

Chap 13, part 13



Two officers arrived shortly afterward. We were given our fill of fruit juices, then DeAngelis and Reynolds were put to bed on fragrant mats. I was asked what I would like to eat.


And this was no game, such as we had played in the raft that terrible day. These people were ready to deliver. I spotted some chickens taking their ease under a palm tree. It was their last siesta. I suggested boiling them down to make a rich borth. This was done, under supervision of a man from the garrison.


I had my first bath with soap in mor than three weeks, then I sat down to wait for dinner. And it was torture. The aroma of chicken permeated the entire area. It filled the air. It was all I could do to keep from grabbing one fo the birds from the pot and rending it.


My thoughts soon returned to Jimmy Reynolds. In the shadows of the hut he looked even more lifeless than he had in the raft. He needed the best medical attention and quickly. But even as I worried, radio signals were crackling through the air. Our friends of the farrison were on the job.


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