Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
chairs on an acoustically sensitive wooden floor was positively outrageous. It was almost
physical. It made the previous chair scraper pale in comparison. They even scraped the
table about! Now I certainly couldn't hear the clock ticking. I noticed that the glass par-
tition had been shot back and the ginger-beer-bottle woman was squinting with venom at
this juvenile invasion. Or was that a glint in her steely stare? Things looked a little weird
from where I sat.
The trouble began when I went back for another mug of draught. I should have quit while
I had the chance. I should have read the room, but who could have foreseen that one of the
uncouth youths would recognize my accent. I had hardly got back to my table when one
of the young men stood up unsteadily. “Hey bra, you da guy from South Africa?” he said
thickly.
“Yes.” I said, stiffening, sensing trouble. I could tell he was drunk, and he was not a friendly
drunk. Oh shit, I have a horrible feeling about this, I thought.
“What for you do here in Hawaii, bra? Why you come here from South Africa? You like
spread apartheid, bra?” he spat menacingly. I was amazed he had heard of Africa, let alone
some isolated political regime.
“No, I am sailing around the world and came to visit your beautiful islands,” I tried coun-
tering.
“No, you fuckin' hauole, you came to da islands to spread apartheid! You fuckin' haoules all
da same, you tink you hot dogs! You go back to South Africa, you fuck!” He was standing
right over me, literally spitting down at me. I stood up, meaning to get the hell out of there
when his fist whistled past my face, his elbow glanced my jaw, and my head was thrown
painfully back. Using his other hand he slapped me across the face, my nose taking most
of the force.
There is one place I don't like being hit, and that is on my nose. I see red. Even as a young
boy at school, I would fly into a violent rage if anyone hurt my nose. This drunken local ape
really hurt my nose; my eyes were smarting and a terrible anger overcame me. I jumped
instantly to my feet, my chair crashing back on its side. No, you couldn't hear the clock
ticking any more.
I swung a fist with all my temper's might. I swung it for the annoying silence of the room,
for the loneliness I was feeling over Susanne, and for the frustration I had been feeling
lately. I knew instinctively that my first shot had better be my best one. I felt, with in-
tense pleasure and pain, my clenched fist connecting his thick, stupid jaw square on, and
he toppled over backwards into his friends.
Search WWH ::




Custom Search