He’d eaten coconut when he was stationed in Manila, and liked it, but he’d never tasted breadfruit, a lime green oblong fruit that weighed up to ten pounds and grew on fifty-foot-tall trees. To feed the constant gnawing in his stomach, he’d even picked and eaten flowers growing next to the walkway leading to the head. Others in the crew had done the same thing, and now all the plants had been picked clean. On this night, Gordy hatched a plan, particularly daring for someone so dedicated to being invisible. He was going to retrieve one of the fallen coconuts. With no guard in sight, he slowly opened the door of his small room, checking in both directions. The coconut lay on the ground, a hundred feet away. The courtyard was dimly lit, with little moonlight on this night. The guard station was at the far end. The best way, he decided, was just to make a dash for it. Crouching low, Gordy shot across the walkway and onto the courtyard. Keeping his eyes on the coconut, he swooped low and gathered it up on the run like a defensive back picking up a fumble.
