ABSTRACT
Three weeks after his return to the States and the dank chill of Washington in winter, Jim Goodall drove down to Virginia Beach for his nephew’s wedding. The occasion only deepened his low spirits. He was forty-five years old and useless in the world. Marcos had seized power by declaring martial law and Kissinger supported the ruse, despite everything Jim and a few others had reported from Manila. Robbie dropped out of college and married a nice girl who worked in a Fotomat, despite Jims years of hoping for something original from the boy.
