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for the men that night. Stared at the older girls who did go-go. For the first time she wanted to speak to them, ask them what it was like. Wanted to kick them for not knowing English. Pound them with her fists for knowing something more important. Maw-Maw could decide any day that Matsi was ready for go-go. She had to convince her voice to trust Lionel.
    A bus chug-chugged them away from camp, past shredded houses, shrouded mounds of bodies. Then one plane flew them to Hong Kong where the Wongs tried to pretend the next plane would go to Vancouver. Didn’t they know she could read?
    Mr. Wong said: Don’t spoil the surprise from your father, your auntie, and us. Trust me, you’ll love it, that’s all I will say, the department of questions is closed.
    A surprise to ponder while riding on clouds, earning junior pilot wings.
    You’re going to Disneyland, Mrs. Wong said, as the plane dropped onto LA which means Left Alone, Liars All. Auntie’s meeting you here, will take you there in a big white van, let’s hurry and find it, shall we?
    Disneyland! Matsi ran with the Wongs but they found the wrong van and left her alone to flail at two men who tied her with rope and taped her mouth shut.
    It was dark outside when the van parked beside a lonely house in a field of scorched grass. They carried her in like a bag of rice, flung her onto a mattress, and cut her loose to face the stares of a dozen girls from under the sea or maybe Pluto, so weird the language they spoke.
    Matsi and her voice were ready for Lionel’s next visit. Only a few men sat in the room, elbows on knees, talking to each other, paying little attention to her dancing. Lionel won her easily. He seemed anxious, said, “Hurry up,” as she stooped for her kimono.
    â€œFlorida’s evacuating,” he said when they got to their room. He unzipped his pants. “Why aren’t we? Nobody’s telling us what to do. The governor says we should pray. That the best she can come up with?” His bushy eyebrows rose up and down like inchworms.
    When he didn’t pick up his clothes, Matsi lifted them off the floor one at a time and folded them into tight squares. Waited for him to notice.
    â€œSome people say it’s no big deal, we’ve had a couple worse ones already this year. But I know we’re overdue for a reckoning. God is not happy with us.”
    His penis drooped like a used-up balloon.
    â€œThey say it won’t be as bad as the big flood when I was a kid. All I remember are coffins floating down the street, giving me nightmares.”
    When it rained day after day in Vancouver, some people’s garages flooded. Matsi had seen it on TV. She stroked Lionel’s penis but it stayed soft. He pushed her hand away.
    â€œSorry, gal. Can’t get my mind off the storm. Don’t know why I’m here. Thinking of calling Ma. See if she needs help. Ever tell you I drive a school bus? I could get her whole neighborhood out of here on that bus. She’d like me then.”
    Matsi wouldn’t take up much room on the bus, could share a seat with someone small. She yanked Lionel’s arm until he looked down.
    â€œWhat, sweetheart?”
    She crooked her finger. He crouched in front of her, smiled.
    She put her mouth to his ear and whispered, “Can you keep a secret?” Her voice sounded as if it had come through fog.
    He sat down hard on the floor. “What the heck?”
    â€œShh,” she said, pointing toward the door. “T-Henry.”
    â€œI feel really stupid,” he said, softly. “They speak English in Thailand?”
    â€œI’m from Canada.”
    He slowly shook his head. “How did you get here?”
    Matsi spoke into his ear about the Wongs.
    â€œJesus.” He pressed the sides of his head. “Means the cops are looking for you.”
    â€œI don’t want the cops to find me. They’ll get me in trouble with Maw-Maw. Can you call