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have to walk the rest of the way."
"Walk? It's dark out there, I'll get lost," Bill replied.
Wayan pointed, "It's about two kilometers, a twenty-minute walk. I
can not take the car down that road in this ram." And he was resolute. Bill didn't
blame him really, he had seen the currents gather force at two or three junctures
along the way and understood Wayan's respect for nature outweighed whatever
fondness he had developed for him over the past few weeks. Wayan was smart
not to make the trip; Bill on the other hand, took off his sandals and stowed
them in his backpack, struggled into his plastic poncho, stepped out of the car
and into the tepid rainwater sludge. By the time he saw the yellow lights of
Pearl Moon, Bill was unnerved. He knew that even with the place in sight if he
had slipped and twisted his ankle no one would've heard his scream. Not
much is louder than a tropical storm.
He remembered measuring his steps, checking for balance each step of
the way and he remembered the twenty-minute walk as if an eternity.
Drenched when he entered Pearl Moon, Bradley Campbell greeted him with
sheer amazement.
"I've been sitting here all afternoon- reading up on world news ­
arrived before the deluge," Bradley said.
The place was an open-air pavilion with teak floors and high-beamed
ceilings. Exotic birds flew in and out: Bali Starlings, their black wing tips and
bright blue masks .in dramatic opposition to their snowy white feathers, Orioles
and Cuckoos. Bradley took Bill's poncho and had the waiter bring him a towel
and a shot of tequila. Wearing baggy shorts and a tee shirt Bill noticed how
built he was, something he didn't remember. Bradley Campbell talked about
his business -- it's success, his travels - they're exotic, his wife -- she's beauti­
ful and twenty years his junior. He said, "It's inevitable we'll have four or five
kids, but she and her sisters will look after them." They ordered dinner.
Bill and Bradley first met sitting on opposite sides of the table during
protracted negotiations for a Nevada land sale. As an attorney Bill represented
the seller, twelve hundred acres, and as a broker Bradley was the front man for
a group of investors. Bradley worked the deal hard. He was a quick study and
Bill was impressed. To arrive at a residual land value they haggled over the
cost of entitlements and water rights and they split hairs over assumptions like
entrepreneurial profit, absorption and marketability. Bradley came armed with
spreadsheets and self-assurance to every single negotiation. Bill remembered a
touchy moment when Bradley stabbed, "The risk is in the lot development -
anyone who knows anything about real estate knows that."
"Six thousand new homes in Washoe County; selling for, say, an aver­
age of one hundred fifty thousand and your costs -- land, soft costs, sticks and
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