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She
chuckled
,
said
,
"
You
can
’
t
keep
secrets
from
Wayan
…
"
I
was
in
godawful
pain
.
Anyone
who
’
s
ever
had
this
infection
knows
the
dreadful
feeling
;
anyone
who
hasn
’
t
experienced
this
specific
suffering
-
well
,
just
make
up
your
own
torturous
metaphor
,
preferably
using
the
term
"
fire
poker
"
someplace
in
the
sentence
.
Wayan
,
like
a
veteran
firefighter
or
an
ER
surgeon
,
never
moves
fast
.
She
methodically
started
chopping
some
herbs
,
boiling
some
roots
,
wandering
back
and
forth
between
her
kitchen
and
me
,
bringing
me
one
warm
,
brown
,
toxic
-
tasting
concoction
after
another
,
saying
,
"
Drink
,
honey
…
"
Whenever
the
next
batch
boiled
,
she
would
sit
across
from
me
,
giving
me
sly
,
dirty
looks
and
using
the
opportunity
to
get
nosy
.
"
You
careful
not
to
get
pregnant
,
Liz
?
"
"
Not
possible
,
Wayan
.
Felipe
has
a
vasectomy
.
"
"
Felipe
has
a
vasectomy
?
"
she
asked
,
in
as
much
awe
as
if
she
were
asking
,
"
Felipe
has
a
villa
in
Tuscany
?
"
(
I
feel
the
same
way
about
it
,
by
the
way
.
)
"
Very
difficult
in
Bali
to
get
a
man
to
do
this
.
Always
the
woman
problem
,
birth
control
.
"
(
Although
it
is
true
that
the
Indonesian
birth
rates
are
down
lately
due
to
a
brilliant
recent
birth
control
incentive
program
:
the
government
promised
a
new
motorcycle
to
every
man
who
would
volunteer
to
come
in
for
a
vasectomy
…
though
I
hate
to
think
the
guys
had
to
ride
their
new
bikes
home
the
same
day
.
)
"
Sex
is
funny
,
"
Wayan
mused
as
she
watched
me
grimacing
in
pain
,
drinking
more
of
her
homemade
medicine
.
"
Yeah
,
Wayan
,
thanks
.
It
’
s
hilarious
.
"
