The Serpent Passage

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William bolted from his chair, knocking over his soda as he rushed to the bamboo railing, hoping she would be right there, just out of sight near the water’s edge. “Where the hell did she go?” he muttered, his eyes wide with disbelief, darting from left to right, scanning the entire lake and adjoining restaurant. A hot middle-aged woman with stringy-blonde hair, wearing a bright yellow shirt, shouldn’t be too hard to spot, he thought.

His activities drew the attention of a chubby waiter with a thin mustache, who noticed the mess he had just made. “Otra cola, friend?” he asked in his broken English, shuffling toward the thatched canopy table near the lake.

William waved the waiter his way in an erratic manner, as if he was swatting at a bee. “Hey, you know that lady I was just talking to?”

“Lady? Oh sure, es Betty,” he said quite matter-offactly, while wiping the table with his rag.

“Did you see her leave?”

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