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Back The Third Brother Save as PDF
Chapters (116)
  1. Cover
  2. Also by the Author
  3. The Third Brother
  4. Copyright
  5. Dedication
  6. PART I
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. 36
  43. 37
  44. 38
  45. 39
  46. 40
  47. 41
  48. 42
  49. 43
  50. 44
  51. 45
  52. 46
  53. 47
  54. 48
  55. 49
  56. 50
  57. 51
  58. 52
  59. 53
  60. 54
  61. 55
  62. 56
  63. 57
  64. 58
  65. 59
  66. PART II
  67. 60
  68. 61
  69. 62
  70. 63
  71. 64
  72. 65
  73. 66
  74. 67
  75. 68
  76. 69
  77. 70
  78. 71
  79. 72
  80. 73
  81. 74
  82. 75
  83. 76
  84. 77
  85. 78
  86. 79
  87. 80
  88. 81
  89. 82
  90. 83
  91. 84
  92. 85
  93. 86
  94. 87
  95. 88
  96. PART III
  97. 89
  98. 90
  99. 91
  100. 92
  101. 93
  102. 94
  103. 95
  104. 96
  105. 97
  106. 98
  107. 99
  108. 100
  109. 101
  110. 102
  111. 103
  112. 104
  113. 105
  114. 106
  115. 107
  116. 108

The hotel, it turns out, is right in front of him.

12

“Don’t forget,” Mike’s father told him on the way to the airport, “Hong Kong is only eighteen hours away.”

Mike drank a beer with his parents at an empty airport bar. His mother remarked that time always seemed to stand still for her in airports. “Time and space,” she said, “are in the same continuum. This is not space,” she went on, sweeping her arm over the plastic bar, “so there’s no time.”

Mike’s father rolled his eyes. Mike laughed and sipped his beer, but he was thinking about all the planes his mother had missed. When she ordered shots of tequila, he said he wanted to go to the gate, even though he had plenty of time. He shook his father’s hand and kissed his mother on the cheek and promised to be in touch. They told him not to worry about staying in touch. “We’ll be OK,” said his mother.

“Regards to Analect,” said his father.

Mike walked away toward the gate. Looking over his shoulder, he could see his parents at the bar. They looked ridiculous, still not talking. The bartender placed two shot glasses in front of them, and Mike saw his mother pull one of the glasses to her lips and throw the shot down her throat. Her head jerked back like someone had punched her in the chin. He had never seen his mother drink a shot before, and in that instant he thought of all the drunk kids at school, sweating and red-faced, going shot for shot across dorm desks.

His mother looked at his father and at the shot still in front of him. He did not look at her. Then she took his shot and drank it in one long, slow sip, and Mike saw his mother call the bartender over again.

13

Mike wakes up as the sun is going down and looks at the evening sky, thick and red, out his window. He wants to wolf down the candy bars in the minifridge, but he knows this would show up on the magazine’s bill and he doesn’t want to look like he was just hanging around the hotel.

He goes to the café across the street and has an evening breakfast of rolls and noodles with a French paraglider girl who just walks over and sits down next to him.

“I’m leaving in a few days,” she says.

“Where are you going?”

She is headed up north to Chang Mai to go parasailing or hang gliding and to otherwise get high. They smoke cigarettes and drink coffee together.

“I know some good bars around here,” she says.