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9 Two on the Fly He’s mad because the taxi’s late. She’s certain she’s forgotten something. Enter the driver—all grins and Haitian and indifferent to the alphabet of indignation and their almost frantic, “Hurry, please!” Once airborne, they relax until the turbulence. He breathes in gulps, retches, and reaches for the paper bag. She’s absolutely sure there’s something she’s forgotten. Landing, they learn their luggage never left America. They file a report, then shuttle into town . . . Their room “. . . won’t be available until . . .” They loiter in a lobby jammed with Japanese podiatrists on tour. She says she knew they never should have come. He has the frown and stoop of someone stranded and friendless in Yokohama. Admitted to their room, she says she stressed twin beds and not a queen. 10 “You kick all night, Jerome, and I was looking forward to a rest.” “Beds are not just made for sleep,” he says. “If that’s the only reason why we’re here, I’m going home tomorrow.” And she did. ...

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