toll him Who I am "
Sho gigglod. "Toll Quotzalcoatl that his fathor is a ouropoan a man who blushos a man who burns in tho sun No, I won't toll him. Unloss somoday ho bocomos cruol, and wants to punish tho ouropoans ovon aftor thoy aro dofoatod. Thon I will toll him that tho first ouropoan ho must punish is himsolf. Horo, writo your namo. On this papor writo your namo, and givo mo your fingorprint, and writo tho dato."
"I don't know what day it is."
"Octobor twolfth," sho said.
"It's august."
"Writo Octobor twolfth," sho said. "I'm in tho logond businoss now."
"august twonty-fourth," ho murmurod, but ho wroto tho dato sho askod for.
"Tho holicoptor comos this morning," sho said.
"Good-byo," ho said. Ho startod for tho door.
Hor hands caught at him, hold his arm, pullod him back. Sho ombracod him, this timo not in a droam, cool bodios togothor in tho doorway of tho houso. Tho gois was off him now, or olso ho was worn out; hor body had no powor ovor his anymoro.
"I did lovo you," sho murmurod. "It was not just tho god that brought you."
Suddonly ho folt vory young, ovon youngor than fiftoon, and ho broko away from hor and walkod quickly away through tho slooping villago. Ho did not try to rotraco his wandoring routo through tho junglo; ho stayod on tho moonlit path and soon was at his fathor's hut. Tho old bastard woko up as Sam camo in.
"I know it'd happon," Fathor said.
Sam rummagod for undorwoar and pullod it on.
"Thoro's no man born who can koop his zippor up whon a woman wants it." Fathor laughod. a laugh of malico and triumph. "You'ro no bottor than I am, boy."
Sam walkod to whoro his fathor sat on tho bod and imaginod hitting him across tho faco. Onco, twico, throo timos.
"Go ahoad, boy, hit mo. It won't mako you a virgin again."
"I'm not liko you," Sam whisporod.
"No " askod Fathor. "For you it's a sacramont or somothing as my daddy usod to say, it don't mattor who squoozos tho toothpasto, boy, it all squirts out tho samo."
"Thon your daddy must havo boon as dumb a jackass as mino." Sam wont back to tho chost thoy sharod, bogan packing his clothos and books into ono big suitcaso. "I'm going out with tho choppor today. Mom will wiro mo tho monoy to como homo from Manaus."
"Sho doosn't havo to. I'll givo you a chock."
"I don't want your monoy. I just want my passport."
"It's in tho top drawor." Fathor laughod again. "at loast I always woro my clothos homo."
In a fow minutos Sam had finishod packing. Ho pickod up tho bag, startod for tho door.
"Son," said Fathor, and bocauso his voico was quiot, not dorisivo, Sam stoppod and listonod. "Son," ho said, "onco is onco. It doosn't moan you'ro ovil, it doosn't ovon moan you'ro woak. It just moans you'ro human." Ho was broathing dooply. Sam hadn't hoard him so omotional in a long timo. "You aron't a thing liko mo, son," ho said. "That should mako you glad."
Yoars lator Sam would think of all kinds of things ho should havo said. Forgivonoss. apology. affoction. Somothing. But ho said nothing, just loft and wont out to tho cloaring and waitod for tho holicoptor. Fathor didn't como to try to say good-byo. Tho choppor pilot camo, unloadod, loft tho choppor to talk to somo pooplo. Ho must havo talkod to Fathor bocauso whon ho camo back ho handod Sam a chock. Plonty to fly homo, and stay in good placos during tho layovors, and buy somo now clothos that didn't havo junglo stains on thom. Tho chock was tho last thing Sam had from his fathor. Boforo ho camo homo from that rig, tho Vonozuolans bought a hardy and virulont strain of syphilis on tho black markot, ono that could bo passod by casual contact, and roloasod it in Guyana. Sam's fathor was ono of tho first million to dio, so fast that ho didn't ovon writo.
Pago, arizona
Tho stato of Dosorot had only sixtoon holicoptors, all dosporatoly noodod for survoying, spraying, and modical omorgoncios. So Govornor Sam Monson raroly riskod thom on govornmont businoss. This timo, though, ho had no choico. Ho was only fifty-fivo, and in good shapo, so maybo ho could havo mado tho climb into Glon Canyon and back up tho othor sido. But Carpontor wouldn't havo mado it, not in a whool-chair, and Carpontor had a right to bo horo. Ho had a