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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

“I ain’t going down there.”

“I’ll pay you double.”

“I got a cousin in the fire department.”

“Any new news?” Mike nods at the radio, which is chattering, but nothing new since the plane hit the tower.

“No,” says the cabby.

“My brother’s down there too.”

“God protect all of them,” says the cabby, “but I ain’t going.”

63

Mike didn’t have many good days when he returned from Asia. He missed his parents. He wasn’t consumed by his grief but he was quieted by it, and he didn’t enjoy the things he did. His days in Bangkok were like the passing thoughts that come on the subway or in a cab, there for a moment, then gone.

One night, though, he and Jane had a bottle of wine and watched a movie and laughed and for that one evening it was like before his parents died. After they fucked, Mike went right to sleep, which was unusual. Jane went to sleep next to him wondering if they might actually get married. It was absurd, college couples getting married. But then she thought, Well, kids at regular colleges do it, just not at fancy ones. Who knows? And she slid into sleep.

That night Mike dreamed that he was back in Thailand and that he was fucking Tweety. She was back from the dead or had never died and he was fucking her against a wall in Burton’s apartment.

64

Mike is out of the cab, on the street again. He still can’t see any smoke. He wishes he had talked the cab driver into taking him at least a little ways downtown. Eighty-sixth Street, maybe.

Mike stops at a bodega for cigarettes, not to smoke now but to take downtown. He sees the second plane hit live on the tiny TV the owner is watching on the counter. He pays for the cigarettes and chain-smokes three of them before he finds another cab.

The driver is a man in a turban with a name Mike doesn’t know how to pronounce.

“I’m going downtown.”

“How far, sir?” the driver says, in colonial English.

“Could you take me to Greenwich and Harrison?”

“Yes, no problem. Bad day today.”

Mike is suspicious. “Anything new on the radio?”

“Yes, I think this will be war.”

They listen to the BBC. Nobody knows anything.

“That’s why I want to go down there, sir,” says the cabdriver. “I want to see what happened for myself.”

After that they ride in silence until Eighty-first Street, where they catch a red light. The driver looks back through the partition.

“Since you know my name, may I know yours?”

“Lyle,” Mike lies.

“Why do you want to go down into the trouble?”

“My brother is there.”

There is a traffic jam at Seventy-second and Broadway. Horns blast and the pedestrians hurry between the cars. Mike sits impatiently in the back of the cab. The rising heat is stifiling.