Once, in Beijing, a young girl in a red gown huddled in a doorway.
Twice, in Singapore, she sat by a fountain.
Three times, in Kuala Lumpur, at three different locations, she waited by Banyan trees.
She was waiting. Always waiting.
She was waiting for me.
She didn't know that I knew that she was waiting for me, but enough money, in the right pockets, can keep me out of trouble. *Has* kept me out of trouble for the past four years. Kept me out of her hands. Out of the hands of the people who wanted to find me.
But it was getting harder to hide. Asia was too well travelled. Hiding in a crowd isn't always the best thing to do.
Time to move well out of the area. Africa seems like a good idea. I've always wanted to go to Kenya.
Who would think of looking for Wally there?