Most of us have left the ship and gone off with relatives and friends.   I sit on one of my trunks on the pier.   John sits on the other trunk.  He plays his guitar and sings The cat came back ‘cause he wouldn’t go away, one more time.  He is running out of songs.

The TWA agent who was to meet me and take me to my flight has not shown up.  John tells me I should have my trunks shipped while the shippers are still here.  I had no idea.   He ships the trunks for me.

It is after five and the pier closes at six.  I have nowhere to go.  John goes to a phone booth and calls all the hotels nearby that he knows are okay.  There are no vacancies.

Simone walks by, alone.   She is among the last to disembark.   She and I shared a cabin.  She is from Tahiti.   All she needs is a taxi to her hotel.

She has a reservation for a hotel room, but it is a single.   Wait, she says, her brother gave her a phone number in case of an emergency.   It is for a couple from his college days but it has been eleven years since then.  Maybe they are not even at the same address.

Simone calls them, and they not only are there but invite her to stay with them.  She will give me her hotel reservation!

While we wait for Simone’s friends, a priest comes along.  His name is Father Waters.  Oh, he is here just in case someone needs help, he says.  He is glad I have a hotel room after all.  He will come for me tomorrow at check-out time and take me to a women’s city residence.  It is run by the same order of nuns as my teachers.  He is sure they would love to fuss over me and get news about their sisters in Macau.