"You know," Copra mused as they walked through the compound gates, "I'll bet some of these people had to resort to cannibalism to get here. Wouldn't that make a great show? People who ate their relatives to reach America. Let's be sure to ask that question."
"Better hurry," Sam suggested. "Once our government contact finds out we've arrived, it'll be the screened tour. "
And like a bull-dozing Zeppelin, Copra Inisfree waded into the crowd. She shook like a Jell-O sculpture in an earthquake.
"You, sir," she bellowed at a middle-aged man. "How did you get out of Vietnam?"
"I walk," the man said.
"And what did you eat to get here?"
"Bugs. "
"Good, go stand over there. You, madam. Speak English?"
"A little."
"You're doing fine, honey. What did you eat?"
"Grass. Weeds."
"Okay," Copra shouted. "Listen up, people. Grasseaters stand off to my left. Bug-eaters to the right. Maybe we can get through this fast."
Hesitantly the Vietnamese milled about until there were two groups, segregated by diet. They smiled in embarrassment.
Copra looked around. There were still some people not on either side. They looked at her in bewilderment. "You, son," Copra asked a little boy. "What did you eat in Vietnam?"
"Sometimes I eat dog."
"Dog's no good. I don't think our audience would go for that. Besides, we just did a dog-confession show. People who take their dogs to church. Sorry, kid. Next time."
"I don't know, Copra," Sam offered. "I think we can squeeze a show out of dog-eating. We can tape and run it on a delayed basis."
"Good thinking. Hold everything, people," Copra yelled. "Change of plan. Dog-eaters go stand by that tree over there."
Everybody went to stand by the tree, including the grass- and bug-eaters.
"Dog-eating must be popular out here," Copra said with disgust.
"Don't let it throw you, Copra baby. Ask 'em about people."
"Right. Now, can I have your attention again? Did any of you ever eat a person, a fellow human being? It doesn't matter who. It can be a brother or parent or child. Come on, don't be shy. Anyone who ever munched out on the relative? No relatives? How about strangers? Anyone ever eat someone they didn't know?" asked Copra Inisfree, thinking that a show called "Strangers Who Eat Strangers" would fetch an easy thirty share in the ratings.
The crowd regarded Copra Inisfree as if she were voiding in public. Some of the children covered their mouths and giggled.
"No one? Are you sure? Anyone willing to admit to eating a person to get out of Vietnam can come to America with me and be on my show."
Copra was suddenly surrounded by an eager throng. They clutched her arms, plucked at her clothes, and all but pushed her to the ground and made love to her.
"Me! Me! I did! Take me to America now," they squealed.
"Sam," Copra called out from the crowd. "This isn't working." Then she disappeared from sight. The ground shook.
Sam groaned. He yelled for help.
The camp guards scurried up and pulled the refugees off Copra Inisfree. She lay in the dirt like a beached whale. She did not move.
"Copra! Copra! Are you okay?" Sam pleaded.
"Sam, I can't get up."
"Where are you hurt, baby?"
"I'm not hurt, you ninny. I can't get up. Help me."
"Wait right here," Sam told her.
"Don't leave me like this. I just need a strong shoulder to lean on. Just till I find my feet."
"I'll see if there's a crane . . . I mean some strong backs anywhere around here," Sam promised.
While Copra Inisfree lay in the dirt cursing her producer under her breath, a wiry Asian man walked up to her.
"My name Phong," he said.
"Don't bother me unless you had a sex-change operation and want to tell America about it."
"You television lady?"
"Beat it. Unless you can help."
"Wait."
"I have a choice?" Copra asked the sky.
The wiry Asian disappeared. He came back lugging a round, flat stone. He lifted Copra's frizzy head and slipped the stone under her neck.
"I can think of a better pillow," she told him.
"Not done yet," Phong said. He knelt on the ground, his knees resting on either side of her head. For a wild moment Copra thought that this was some exotic kind of Asian sex ritual. She opened her mouth to scream, then remembered that the last time she'd had sex she had to pay for it. She shut her eyes and hoped for the best. Maybe if he did rape her she could go on Donahue and show that piker how to make ratings.
The Asian lifted her head with one hand and Copra felt the cold stone under her neck slide down to the small of her back. Then her head was resting in the man's lap and she started to feel a sense of delicious anticipation. The man took her by the shoulders and pushed with all his strength. His foot jammed the stone into the small of her back and suddenly Copra sensed that she was sitting up.
She opened her eyes.
"Not bad," she said. "I could use a resourceful guy like you."