Being American meant people would listen to you, no matter what kind of crap you spewed out.

Darwich discovered that early on. Most times he didn't even have to say a thing. The "raised-abroad glow" never failed to impress. It moved him quickly up the ladder at the paper, but Darwich wanted more. Everywhere around him he saw the country changing. Stock-brokers were wearing beepers, girls let their hair go curly, random incidents of break-dancing had been reported all around town.

At first Darwich had been content to laugh it off and just cover the story -- after all, he was the most qualified.

But then he began seeing himself as the inheritor of the world's cruelest fate. He'd escaped America only to find it chasing him, everywhere he looked.

Next week: Darwich makes a list