"Tone?" he'd say. "I didn't know it was all Even with the cooling night air Fossie's face that complicated. The girl joined the zoo. One was slick with sweat. He looked sick. His eyes more animal—end of story." were bloodshot; his skin had a whitish, almost colorless cast. For a few minutes Rat waited "Yeah, fine. But tell it right." with him, quietly watching the hootch, then he patted the kid's shoulder and left him alone. It was after midnight when Rat and Eddie At daybreak the next morning, when Mark Diamond went out to check on him. The night Fossie heard she was back, he stationed himself had gone cold and steamy, a low fog sliding outside the fenced-off Special Forces area. All down from the mountains, and somewhere out morning he waited for her, and all afternoon. in the dark they heard music playing. Not loud Around dusk Rat brought him something to but not soft either. It had a chaotic, almost eat. unmusical sound, without rhythm or form or progression, like the noise of nature. A "She has to come out," Fossie said. "Sooner synthesizer, it seemed, or maybe an electric or later, she has to." organ. In the background, just audible, a "Or else what?" Rat said. woman's voice was half singing, half chanting, but the lyrics seemed to be in a foreign tongue. "I go get her. I bring her out." They found Fossie squatting near the gate in Rat shook his head. "Your decision. I was front of the Special Forces area. Head bowed, you, though, no way I'd mess around with any he was swaying to the music, his face wet and Greenie types, not for nothing." shiny. As Eddie bent down beside him, the kid looked up with dull eyes, ashen and powdery, "It's Mary Anne in there." not quite in register. "Sure, I know that. All the same, I'd knock "Hear that?" he whispered. "You hear? It's real extra super polite." Mary Anne."
"Tone?" he'd say. "I didn't know it was all that complicated. The girl joined the zoo. One more animal—end of story." "Yeah, fine. But tell it right." At daybreak the next morning, when Mark Fossie heard she was back, he stationed himself outside the fenced-off Special Forces area. All morning he waited for her, and all afternoon. Around dusk Rat brought him something to eat. "She has to come out," Fossie said. "Sooner or later, she has to." "Or else what?" Rat said. "I go get her. I bring her out." Rat shook his head. "Your decision. I was you, though, no way I'd mess around with any Greenie types, not for nothing." "It's Mary Anne in there." "Sure, I know that. All the same, I'd knock real extra super polite." Even with the cooling night air Fossie's face was slick with sweat. He looked sick. His eyes were bloodshot; his skin had a whitish, almost colorless cast. For a few minutes Rat waited with him, quietly watching the hootch, then he patted the kid's shoulder and left him alone. It was after midnight when Rat and Eddie Diamond went out to check on him. The night had gone cold and steamy, a low fog sliding down from the mountains, and somewhere out in the dark they heard music playing. Not loud but not soft either. It had a chaotic, almost unmusical sound, without rhythm or form or progression, like the noise of nature. A synthesizer, it seemed, or maybe an electric organ. In the background, just audible, a woman's voice was half singing, half chanting, but the lyrics seemed to be in a foreign tongue. They found Fossie squatting near the gate in front of the Special Forces area. Head bowed, he was swaying to the music, his face wet and shiny. As Eddie bent down beside him, the kid looked up with dull eyes, ashen and powdery, not quite in register. "Hear that?" he whispered. "You hear? It's Mary Anne."
Sweetheart%20of%20the%20Song%20Tra%20Bong%20text.docx