BooksBarbecue
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

Mike checks his shirt then plunges his hands into his pants pockets, searching, searching, but he cannot find the pack. He can feel Dorr’s eyes move from the dog to him, moving up and down him as he searches for the cigarettes.

“Oh, look,” says Dorr, reaching for the pack, left on the table, “you already gave it to me.”

Mike is out the door.

57

Mike’s heart is pounding. He trips over Carrie’s bowl on the porch again and stumbles down the stairs. He takes off up the street without thinking. He is sweating and the stray animals smell the birth on him and are curious. The men in the lawnchairs watch and smoke. Mike turns at the corner where Harrison disappeared and at the end of the street sees the clean blue bike out of place among the rusted locals in the turnaround.

Mike hears domestic life as he walks toward the bike. A woman singing, the gurgle of water in a sink through the thin walls. He tries to take in everything, observe carefully, calm down. The singing continues. He waits by the bike. There is life on this street. A man crosses in front of him carrying a box full of yellow transistor radios. A woman beats a rug against a low brick wall, exploding motes into the sunlight. Children run in and out of a garage where young men work on motorcycles. Almost hidden at the mouth of an alley, an old man draws water into a bucket from a rusty pump shaped like an elephant’s trunk.

Dorr is full of shit, Mike thinks.

* * *

Mike is already tired of waiting. He wants to see the street from a motorcycle, on the way out, or on canvas, not be stuck in the middle of it. It feels like he has already been here a long time. He waits and waits, and the sun crosses the sky slowly burning him. He tries to watch the neighborhood but knows they are all looking at him. Farang. He catches a child, a little girl he thinks, peeking at him through the window of the house. She disappears below the sill. This is Tweety’s house, he is sure of it. He wonders how long he has been waiting. He wants to find Harrison and leave. Maybe he should knock on the door of the house. Tweety’s house. But then Mike sees Harrison, Tweety, and a young man who he thinks must be Tweety’s brother coming toward him from around the side of the house. Behind them are four police officers with drawn pistols. Harrison tells Mike to be calm, to let him do the talking, that everything will get sorted. Mike does not believe this. He can tell by the way the cops are holding their pistols.