And she was keen on returning her thoughts to Liam, and to speculate as to his secret, hidden past. She knew that his story would likely turn out to be far less interesting than anything she was about to imagine. She also knew that she probably wouldn’t see him again. It would not be surprising in the least bit if she returned back to the guest house at the end of the day to find her neighboring room vacant.
“Table for one,” she said, and the pretty young waitress in a bright blue and unadorned long-sleeved and slim summer dress showered her to a table on the balcony, overlooking the lake. She sat down, could see an old couple, maybe in their eighties, jogging around the perimeter of the body of water.
“Can I get you anything?” the waitress asked, her English fluent. Terry was a little surprised, but this was, after all, the capital of Vietnam, and probably the biggest tourist spot.
“Pho Bo?” she asked, using the Vietnamese name for rice noodles with beef.
“Of course. Any coffee?”
“Yes, drip coffee?”
“Of course,” the waitress replied. She smiled, bowed a little, and then walked off.
Terry returned her gaze to the old couple exercising, wondering how many years – or decades – they had done that together for.
* * *
After several hours of exploring the city, poking around the shops and stalls, circumnavigating the potato-shaped lake, and looking at tour packages she could take out to various nearby attractions, Terry was pretty much ready to call it a day. But it wasn’t even dinner time yet, and she wasn’t about to waste what was certain to be a buzzing night life. So far her travel guide had been accurate, and there was no reason to doubt it now.
With the heat been baked into her, she decided that nothing would be more soothing than a cold gin and tonic, and so she set off back toward the district around Hoan Kiem. There was a small lane where all the hippest bars were supposed to be, and she figured why not? It was a major tourist hotspot, and she was bound to see something interesting there.
Weaving her way through mopeds and alleys alike, she found herself in a narrow street lined with small hole-in-the-walls that sat beneath low-rise blocks of guest houses. Already, at sunset, the place was heaving with what she guessed were tourists. There looked to be a number of local expatriates, too, judging by the number of mopeds that were lined up outside each bar. Most of them didn’t look like the rented sort, which were often branded with bright logos that stood out, so that tourists couldn’t easily steal them, or if there was an accident, they could be easily identified.
She walked up and down the street, wondering if she’d chance upon Liam. Did he seem like the drinking type? She couldn’t really gauge that one. At least, he didn’t seem like the fun-loving type, not on the surface, at any rate. Maybe having a drink or two loosened him up a bit. She wondered what he was so tightly wound, or why he was the way that he was. She figured that it was rare that someone as well traveled as he claimed to be would be so socially closed off. Chronic travelers were usually the outgoing sort, and Liam was completely against type.
Choosing a bar without a name, but with a big yellow banana as its logo, she sat at one of the tables directly below a ceiling fan, happy for the cooling breeze and shade. She’d chosen the place because it was quite empty, save for some people at the bar and one or two nestled snugly at a back table. She asked the waitress for a gin and tonic, using her finger and thumb, spaced about an inch apart, to signal a half-half mix. The waitress told her that it would cost more, but that was fine with Terry.
One drink turned into three, and the music started, the televisions were changed to European football matches, and everything started to fill up even more. People wandered down the street, a variety of sorts, some dressed well in suits, others more casually in typical backpacker attire. She watched from her two-stool table as groups of youngsters, no more than nineteen years old she guessed, flocked from bar to bar, drawing attention to themselves. School wasn’t out yet, and so it couldn’t be a post-graduation trip.
She was content to watch them, examine the crowded night life, and otherwise while away her own evening doing not much of anything at all.
* * *
“Hello, darlin’.” Terry looked to her side. Three men seated at the bar were looking at her. Bomb signals were already going off in her mind, but she ignored them.
“Hi,” she said, before clearing her throat. She offered them a brief smile before returning her gaze to the street scene outside.
“Traveler?”
“Sorry?”
“Are you a traveler?” The man who was talking to her looked to be maybe in his fifties, and he definitely looked like an unsavory character. She glanced at her watch, saw that it was already quarter to midnight. The hours had just evaporated.
“Yes,” she replied without looking at him. “What’s it to you?”
“Well, it’s my bar,” he said, and she turned to him again. He was wearing a slimy smirk, and was rising off his stool. “And mostly, the tourists know to stay outta here.”
“So what, this is a locals-only bar?”
“Something like that.” He walked over to her, the swagger in his step a little wobbly, no doubt the result of a few too many drinks. The man pulled the other stool out from under her table and sat down opposite her, grinning. She saw three gold teeth in between thick rubber-ring lips.
“Is this really your bar?”
“Yes,” he said, touching his chest and laughing. “I’m the owner. Name’s Paul. What’s yours, darling?”
She ignored the question. “So why don’t the tourists come in here?”
“’Cause we don’t want ‘em in here, that’s why.” He looked at his two friends, shared a laugh.
“Why not?” The bomb sirens in her head now were wailing louder than ever. She didn’t fancy herself a girl who was easily frightened, but a quick survey of the bar told her it was only them three and her. And that was enough to arouse her sense of caution and danger.
The guy looked like he had a real mean streak to him, someone nasty. She wouldn’t be surprised if he had a gun tucked beneath the counter of the bar. She had skipped the chapters of her guidebook over things to watch out for, and was regretting it now. Was there something she had missed? She hadn’t even given an ounce of thought to the fact that the bar had remained empty while the others had filled up. After a long and tiring day, Terry had simply been happy to find a quiet place to sit and sip on a drink.
“Why not?” He looked at his mates and repeated it. “Why not? It’s not hard to figure that one out.”
“Well, okay, I get the message,” Terry said. “I’ve paid, just let me finish my drink, and I’ll leave.” She looked from the man talking to her to the other two still seated at the bar, hoping to at least appeal to them. But it was clear when she looked in either of their eyes that they were going to be playing follow-the-leader tonight.
“Oh, no, it’s nothing like that, love. You’re fine, you’re not like the rest of ’em.”
“Oh yeah?” She looked at the gold-toothed man. “How’s that?”
“Well, you’re alone, for starters. You’re not with a pack of hooligans puking and pissing everywhere. You don’t look the hippy type, either, with filthy matted locks and a pong that could down a donkey.”
Terry might have smiled if the tension level hadn’t become suffocating. “Is that what they’re all like?”
“I’ve been living here thirty five years,” he said, tapping the table with his index finger to punctuate his statement. “And I’m telling you, that’s what they’re all like.”
“Well, that’s a shame. Anyway, I need to go.” She started to get up off her stool.
“Aw, no, don’t leave. I was beginning to enjoy our little chat.” He spread his arms, nodded at her with raised eyebrows. “Come on, love.”
“It’s late.”
“It’s not even twelve! We don’t close until three, you know. And even then, we stay open longer if
there’s good times to be had.”
“I’m afraid that’s way past my bedtime,” she said, forcing a smile. “Sorry, but I really should go.”
“Stay, for just one more drink,” the man said. He got up too, and stood in between her and the exit. “On the house.”
“I really don’t want another drink. It might get me started on the puking and the pissing, right?”
“Lovely lass like you? You don’t seem the type.”
“Look, guys, I’m really going to head out. You’ve got a nice bar, thanks for the good night.” She walked toward the entrance off to the side, but he shifted into her path, hands out in front of him. Terry was beginning to feel that she was heading for trouble, and she was telling herself not to panic, despite the fact that her heart was hammering in her chest. She wondered how she should play this. Should she scream? The door was open and someone on the street outside might hear. Should she make a run for it? Should she play nice with the men and chat with them for a while until they got too drunk to stand up. That might work.
It wasn’t the first time she’d had trouble with drunk men before, but all alone in a foreign country, it was the first time she felt she wouldn’t be able to handle it. It alarmed her that she actually didn’t know the emergency number for the police, and even then, she wasn’t sure if the operator would be someone she could communicate with.
Her mind went to Liam again, and not for the first time that day, she wished he was with her. She hoped he would just show up, that like in a movie he’d be in the right place at the right time. And he did. And she couldn’t believe it.
“Liam!” she called, her voice shaky and bordering on a scream. He was walking on the other side of the narrow street. “Liam!” This time, the tremor of fear in her voice was audible. He looked up at her, surprised, and then his eyes went to the man standing in between her and the door. Something in his demeanor, his stature, ignited.
“Your boyfriend?” the man asked, turning around to look at the approaching Liam.
Relief flooded through her. “Yes.” She looked past Gold-Tooth to Liam again. He was scowling. “Sorry, boys, but like I said, I’ve really got to go.” She pushed past the bar owner, and found the hot and still air outside strangely refreshing. Already, her nerves were calming, and her heart was slowing.
Liam walked quickly to her, and he took her arm and guided her away from the entrance to the bar. “These guys giving you a hard time?”
“No,” she lied. “No, everything’s fine.” They stopped just meters away. The bars were shouting loud overlapping music at each other across the street, and Terry was quickly growing sick of the din.
“I see.” Liam looked at the three men still in the nameless bar with a banana logo, and then back at her. “You sure?”
“Yeah,” Terry chirped. She looked at them, too. Paul, the bar owner, was grinning.
“You sure you don’t want to come in and have another drink with the boys, love? Your friend can come, too.”
Liam left Terry’s side before she could stop him. “Christ,” she said to herself, pinching her brow and watching him approach the bar owner. If there was one thing she didn’t want to have to go through, it was watching men act like boys.
“Liam, wait,” she said, but he waved her down. He walked toward Paul, dwarfing him. But the bar owner had his buddies, who were both squaring up. Terry started at them with every intention of pulling Liam away. She was happy that he had chanced upon her, had pretty much rescued her, however inadvertently, but that was enough. They didn’t need to do this.
“I wouldn’t,” she heard Liam say. Before she could reach him, he leaned closer to the bar owner, glaring, and said something. She couldn’t hear what he said, but the man called his two friends down, and Liam turned and started walking toward her.
“Oh good,” she breathed. “I thought something was going to happen.”
“He wanted it to.” Liam gestured behind him.
“What did you say?”
“Nothing. Come on.” He put out his hand, and it was such a natural. She knew he’d done it without thinking. But moments later he realized, and he pulled it back. “Come on,” he repeated. The two walked until the incomprehensible noise of music was just a murmur in the background.
“Did you know that guy?” Terry asked, replaying it all in her head. What had he said? Why had that Paul guy folded so quickly?
“No, but I know his type.”
“What’s his type?”
“Use your head, Terry.” Liam stopped and looked at her, annoyed. His eyes accused her angrily, and his jawline, pronounced in the low light, hardened.
“What the hell is your problem?” Terry’s emotion flared, and she knew part of it was that she had been drinking, but she wasn’t in the mood for dealing with any more shit, either. Especially from another man!
“I don’t have a problem. But you should have known better than to stay in an empty bar when every other one was full.” He didn’t say it with anger, but it was clear to her that he was rebuking her.
Terry’s nostrils flared. “It wasn’t empty the whole time.”
“What, two or three people trickle in and out? It’s a front, Terry! They’ve probably got girls in the rooms above.”
Terry blinked. “Girls?”
“Prostitutes, Terry! Look, those guys, they’re old school. I know people like them. I’ve saw people like them the last time I was here. You were in a gang’s bar.”
“So? I paid for my drinks!” Terry knew that it was a bad response, but she wasn’t about to let Liam walk all over her with words.
“So?” Liam laughed. “Look, Vietnam’s a poor country. A lot of people stayed after the war.”
“Americans?”
“Many, yes. And a lot of people came after the war as well. It’s the same all over poor countries in Asia. They attract the worst kind of people. There’s money to be made, girls to be exploited, and a shit ton of drugs to be exported. These are not good guys, and they are not nice guys. His type I ran into in Saigon were a group of white guys pimping out fourteen year olds to sex tourists. They deal drugs, and drugs earns you the death penalty here if you’re caught by the police. But the police won’t go into that bar! They’re all in on it, too. This is all entrenched, and even though they’re foreign, they are left alone. The local gangs can’t be fucked to deal with a bunch of crazies like them. I don’t really blame them. They live like they’ve got nothing to lose. You were in the wrong bar tonight. It wasn’t your fault, and I’m not trying to blame you, but an attractive girl like you, and alone? That was stupid.” He looked away briefly, and breathed slowly.
“What’s gotten you so worked up?” Terry asked, looking to turn this on him. She wasn’t about to just sit there and be scolded.
“You should have put two and two together,” he said. Still there was no nastiness or anger in his voice. Despite feeling indignant, and of course the sting of shame that she had missed something which he was making out to be so obvious, she started to see that he was so worked up because he was worried. Even if he didn’t show it any other way, even if his eyes would not betray that emotion, it was the only explanation.
He continued. “You know the signs back home, you may know the bad areas, but you’re missing all of them out here. This shit is not in the guidebook!”
“Okay, okay,” Terry said, putting up her hands. “Yeah, alright, I didn’t think about it. You don’t have to be such a dick about it.”
His eyed widened for an instant, and then they returned quickly to their normal neutrality. His face looked as though all emotion had been drained out of it. What the hell had just happened? One minute was having a go at her, worried about her, and the next his barriers were all back up. He went from fire-red to stone-cold granite-gray, and just like that, as if at the click of a button. He left her then, and she watched him for a moment. She couldn’t believe him. An overpowering urge to hit him bubbled beneath her skin.
“Coming?”
he asked, turning to look at her. She almost didn’t want to go with him. She hadn’t needed a lesson from him, and she was pissed off without really knowing why it got to her so much. Maybe it was embarrassment. Maybe it was because she really had been in a tight spot, and that she had felt scared. It had robbed her of some confidence.
“I’ve come all the way out here,” she said, walking toward Liam. “On a whim, and now I feel a little like I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Don’t feel sorry for yourself,” he said. “You won’t make that mistake again.”
“You’re right.” She calmed herself. “I won’t.”
“You’ll be fine nine times out of ten, but tonight could have been that one time out of ten, right?” She sensed a little warmth creep back into his voice.
“I’m glad you were there.”
“Yeah, so am I.”
“It’s like, past one in the morning. What were you doing there?”
“Shortcut back to Lucky Phuc,” he said. Even though he didn’t emote it, she knew he was grinning on the inside. After a pause, he clarified. “But I also was after a drink.”
“Yeah? Get up to much today?”
“Sort of. You?”
“Yeah,” Terry said. “It was actually a pretty great day. I went down to the lake, had breakfast at this gorgeous restaurant that overlooked it. Got the French bread, too.”
“Was it still hot?”
“The bread? Yeah.”
“That’s the only way to have it.”
Their chatter waned, but Terry didn’t feel award just walking with Liam without talking. They arrived at their guest house, took the steps slowly, and then it was goodbye time, and, perfectly aware of the hour, Terry still felt it was too early to call it a night.
“Did you get that drink?” Terry asked.
Liam looked at her for a moment. She didn’t know if it was the alcohol, the time, or the circumstances, but she wanted him. It was an urge, but also more. She knew she wanted him in the physical sense. That was unsurprising; he was exactly the kind of guy she found hot. But she also wanted more of his presence. It felt nice to be with him, even if he seemed a mile away in thought, or locked up tightly in a suit of armor. She’d be content to simply sit in silence on her balcony with him and while the night away.
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