The large pool sat ground level between the two towers of the hotel. Stone elephants stood on the long ends of the pool and spouted water, creating ripples and gentle noise. RJ swam laps, sometimes joined in the pool by Pad, then both laid in the deck chairs, Pad immersing himself in the E.M. Forster novel, “Maurice,” from time to time. Palm trees flanked the edges of the pool, casting shadows on their seats, a slight breeze swaying the fronds slightly. Along the side’s rubber plants, plumeria mixed with potted plants of white jasmine and cassia provided provided color. The pool host checked on them frequently, adding more and more to the growing tab RJ started. Pad stuck to mai-tais while RJ ordered the local beer.
Pad more than once glanced at RJ, who insisted on wearing low protection
