The deal fell through with Wayan. That property Felipe had found for her somehow didn't happen. When I ask Wayan what went wrong, I get some fuzzy reply about a lost deed; I don't think I was ever told the real story. What matters is only that it's a dead deal. I'm starting to get kind of panicked about this whole Wayan house situation. I try to explain my urgency to her, saying, "Wayan—I have to leave Bali in less than two weeks and go back to America. I can't face my friends who gave me all this money and tell them that you still don't have a home."

"But Liz, if a place has no good taksu . . ."

Everybody has a different sense of urgency in this life.

But a few days later Wayan calls over at Felipe's house, giddy. She's found a different piece of land, and this one she really loves. An emerald expanse of rice field on a quiet road, close to town. It has good taksu written all over it. Wayan tells us that the land belongs to a farmer, a friend of her father's, who is desperate for cash. He has seven aro total to sell, but (needing fast money) would be willing to give her only the two aro she can afford. She loves this land. I love this land. Felipe loves this land. Tutti—spinning across the grass in circles, arms extended, a little Balinese Julie Andrews—loves it, too.

"Buy it," I tell Wayan.

But a few days pass, and she keeps stalling. "Do you want to live there or not?" I keep asking.

She stalls some more, then changes her story again. This morning, she says, the farmer called to tell her he isn't certain anymore whether he can sell only the two-aro parcel to her; instead, he might want to sell the whole seven-aro lot intact . . . it's his wife that's the problem . . . The farmer needs to talk to his wife, see if it's OK with her to break up the land . . .

Wayan says, "Maybe if I had more money . . ."

Dear God, she wants me to come up with the cash to buy the whole chunk of land. Even as I'm trying to figure out how to raise a staggering 22,000 extra American dollars, I'm telling her, "Wayan, I can't do it, I don't have the money. Can't you make a deal with the farmer?"

Then Wayan, whose eyes are not exactly meeting mine anymore, crochets a complicated story. She tells me that she visited a mystic the other day and the mystic went into a trance and said that Wayan absolutely needs to buy this entire seven-aro package in order to make a good healing center . . . that this is destiny . . . and, anyway, the mystic also said that if Wayan could have the entire package of land, then maybe she could someday build a nice fancy hotel there . . .

与大姐的交易失败。斐利贝为她找到的地产不知为什么并未交易成功。我问大姐怎么回事，却得到关于契约未谈成的琐碎回答；我想我从未被告知真相。不过真正的重点就只是交易无效。我对大姐买屋的整个情况，开始感到恐慌。我想对她说明我的急迫："大姐——只剩下不到两个星期，我就必须离开巴厘岛返回美国。我无法面对所有给我钱的朋友，告诉他们说你的家仍无着落。"

"可是小莉，一个地方如果没有好的神灵……"

每个人对人生的急迫性都有不同看法。

然而几天过后，大姐急急忙忙打电话到斐利贝家。她已经找到另一块地，这块地很让她喜欢。一片翡翠绿的稻田，在安静的路上，离镇上不远，而且整个显露出好神灵的气息。大姐告诉我们土地归某个农人所有，是她父亲的友人，亟需现金。他共有七阿罗待售，可是他因为需要很快拿到钱他愿意只卖她买得起的两阿罗地。她喜欢这块地。我喜欢这块地。斐利贝喜欢这块地。图蒂——绕着圈子横越草地，展开双臂——也爱这块地。

"买了吧。"我告诉大姐。

可是过了几天，她依然举棋不定。"你究竟想不想住在那里？"我不断询问。

她再次拖延时间，随后又改变说法。今早她说，农人打电话告诉她，他不肯定还能不能只卖她两阿罗地；他想出售完整的七阿罗地……问题在于他老婆……农人得和他老婆谈谈，看她愿不愿意把地分开出售……

大姐说："要是我有更多钱就好了……"

老天，她要我筹出现金购买整块地。尽管我在想办法如何去筹到另一大笔令人惊愕的两万两千美金，我还是说："我办不到，我没有钱。你能不能和农人商量商量？"

然后，眼神不再看我的大姐编了个复杂的故事。她告诉我说，前几天她去找一位神秘人士，此人进入恍惚状态，告诉大姐绝对必须买这整块七阿罗土地，才能盖一所好的医疗中心……这是天命……神秘人士还说，倘若大姐能买下整块土地，或许哪天能盖上一间不错的豪华饭店……