Goodbye Mr. Robinson.
The late afternoon sun was disappearing behind towering monsoon clouds gathering over the horizon as a yellow motor scooter came to a halt in front of the hotel by the beach. Yip, a young looking Thai lady of thirty-five or forty dressed in shorts and a white t-shirt drove it. The pillion passenger was a tall slim Englishman of about sixty, smartly although slightly incongruously dressed in beige trousers, pink shirt, and a navy blue blazer that he removed and slung over his arm as soon as he had stepped from the machine. He climbed the four steps up to the restaurant area, deserted now in this the low season, draped his jacket over the back of a chair and took his habitual seat on a high wooden stool at the far end of the bar. He pulled a packet of American cigarettes out from his shirt pocket, tapped the packet twice, and lit one from a silver Ronsen lighter he carried in his back pocket.
'Good afternoon Mr. Robinson,' called Tam the waiter from the far end of the restaurant where he was flicking a dirty white cloth over the tables. Mr. Robinson turned slightly in his direction and nodded, exhaling a cloud of blue smoke towards the rafters where a large green gecko hung upside down and immobile from beam.
'Good Afternoon Mr. Robinson.' Echoed the voice of Anoma the manageress from the poky office behind the bar. ‘Are you happy today?'
She appeared in the doorway, an attractive woman in her late twenties, tall and well built for a Thai girl.
'Oh! You look so handsome today. Yip will be sad to say goodbye.' She came and stood opposite him behind the bar and put one hand lightly on his arm. They had been friends for a long time, with an easy comfortable relationship.
Mr. Robinson looked at her through half cl...
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...on!' Called Tam from across the room having heard the last remark. 'Most top secret mission!'
Yip turned back towards Anoma. 'He lie. Not business trip.' Her wide brown eyes were hard and bright, 'He lie!' she repeated forcefully. Mr. Robinson pulled on his cigarette and looked up at the ceiling where the Gecko began its call. 'Too Kai, Too Kai, Too Kai.'
Anoma looked from Yip to the man, a slightly embarrassed expression clouding her face, and said something quietly in Thai to the woman.
Yip turned and thrust her face close to the man's, trying to make him look at her, and in a voice betraying both anger and misery shouted, 'No! He not go to England for business, not holiday, not to see family. He go England to die.'
Mr. Robinson stood up, his stool clattering to the floor behind him, and stubbed his cigarette out viciously in the seashell ashtray on the counter.
“What was I doing up here anyway? Why did I let Finny talk me into stupid things like this? Was he getting some kind of hold over me? (1.32).”
Tom Robinson, from Harper Lee’s To Kill A Mockingbird, was shot. Tom Robinson who was accused a raping a white girl and when put on trial, was found guilty and sentenced to death in prison. He attempted to escape from the prison and when caught by a prison guard, he got shot and he died. But this is not what killed Tom Robinson. Lee hints to the readers who is truly responsible for the death of Tom Robinson. What killed Tom Robinson was the pressure of Maycomb County and their views on how negroes should be treated verse how a white man should be treated. The actions and beliefs of the individuals in Maycomb who is to blame and who is to take responsibility for Tom Robinson’s death.
The death of Tom Robinson is a tragedy for those who care about him and a victory for those who despise him. The characters in the novel have their own individual standpoints on both the trial and his death. Those who support Tom blame his death on the outcome of the trial. Because the Ewell’s accuse him of rape and the jury finds him guilty, Tom must go to prison, where he dies trying to break out. Those who believe Tom is guilty of raping Mayella Ewell blame Tom himself for trying to escape from prison. The argument in the novel is who should take responsibility for Tom’s death: the Ewell’s, the jury, or Tom Robinson.
"A green and yellow parrot, which hung in a cage outside the door, kept repeating over and over:
Two men were working the front end, the cashier at register 3 was helping an older looking woman with a sun hat, Capri pants ,and far too much make up on, the other cashier was leaning on the bag rack behind him, enjoying a break in a slow day . Both of the clerks looked as if they were in their early twenties, definently townies, the townies hated summer vacationers. Townies never said a word to vacationers, and you could tell in their attitude; they all longed for Labor Day to roll around so everyone would go home, bringing peace to their little town again. My observations of the store and town politics were...
“Oh you noticed!” Rachel said trying to be coy, “You looking pretty sexy today too babe!” she then wrapped her arms around his waist and pecked him on the cheek.
“How would you like to come in and work for us at Peter Piper Pizza” asked Bob?
He peppered his weekly visits over different weekdays, but it was always Fridays that he waited until 5:15. He makes the usual remarks every time he sits his old, marshmallow behind down at the counter.
She stood up walked to the door, turned and looked back at the waiter and started to speak, but she stopped herself and she walked out the door.
Barista (on loudspeaker): Excuse me, the coffee shop is closing in ten minutes if you would please gather your belongings and exit soon. It was a pleasure to have you at Lee’s Tea Shop, we hope you have a great evening.
They kissed good-bye and she left. Walking over toward the window where another young lady was seated, he asked her, "Did you ever say good-bye to someone knowing it would be forever?"
Upon arrival into the jungle of vast buildings, the first thing noticed is the mobbed streets filled with taxi cabs and cars going to and fro in numerous directions, with the scent of exhaust surfing through the air. As you progress deeper into the inner city and exit your vehicle, the aroma of the many restaurants passes through your nostrils and gives you a craving for a ?NY Hot Dog? sold by the street venders on the corner calling out your name. As you continue your journey you are passed by the ongoing flow of pedestrians talking on their cell phones and drinking a Starbucks while enjoying the city. The constant commotion of conversing voices rage up and down the streets as someone calls for a fast taxi. A mixed sound of various music styles all band together to form one wild tune.
“Daddy, daddy,” Ji-hye chirps; her tiny hands tugging away at the man’s pant leg while she stares up at him with her puppy-dog eyes. “When will we see mommy? When will we see the new baby?”
I awoke to the sun piercing through the screen of my tent while stretching my arms out wide to nudge my friend Alicia to wake up. “Finally!” I said to Alicia, the countdown is over. As I unzip the screen door and we climb out of our tent, I’m embraced with the aroma of campfire burritos that Alicia’s mom Nancy was preparing for us on her humungous skillet. While we wait for our breakfast to be finished, me and Alicia, as we do every morning, head to the front convenient store for our morning french vanilla cappuccino. On our walk back to the campsite we always take a short stroll along the lake shore to admire the incandescent sun as it shines over the gleaming dark blue water. This has become a tradition that we do every
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