Read Online The Time in Between by David Bergen - Free Book Online Page A

Danang with her husband, Jack, and they have two children. This is what I know.”
    “Can I meet her? This woman?”
    Yen shrugged. He said that he did not have that kind of power. He was not a magician.
    “You know where she lives, don’t you?”
    Yen said he did.
    “Take me there.”
    Yen waved a hand. “Not tonight, Miss Ada. It is too late. Tomorrow.”
    Ada walked outside and stood in a light drizzle. An umbrella snapped open and appeared above her head.
    “Please,” she said.
    “That man you met in the café,” Yen said. “George. I knew him. For two days I was his guide, fed his dog fresh bones, took him to Hoi An, made sure he was safe. And then one day he called me a name and hit me with his cane. See?” Yen raised his arm and showed Ada the welt just above his elbow.
    “Oh,” Ada said. “What did you do?”
    “Nothing. Well, I might have tried to take his dog. But just for a walk. It is a large dog with very shiny fur. Of course, you have met the dog.”
    “Did he pay you, this George?”
    “A little.”
    “I guess I should pay you,” Ada said.
    “Oh, no. Never.” His black eyes, hard and bright.
    “Tomorrow,” she reminded him. “You will show me that woman’s house.”
    “Absolutely,” he said. “I will meet you outside, right here, at two o’clock.” And he stepped sideways and then turned and disappeared into the darkness. Ada raised a hand to call out that she had his umbrella, but he was gone.

    AT NIGHT, SHE WOKE AND REALIZED THAT THE RAIN HAD STOPPED. She went to the bathroom and then stood by the window and watched the harbor and listened to the sounds of the city. Jon had not yet come home. She saw her reflection in the dark glass of the side window. She was too thin: her legs, her arms, even her face had diminished. She leaned out the window and saw, on the street below, a motorcycle pass, its taillight glowing red and then disappearing around a corner. The sign on the photography shop blinked on and off, and in the doorway of the shop she saw, intermittently, the shape of something; perhaps a small animal curled into itself, or maybe a person, its back to the street. She stood for a long time, smoking and watching, and then she closed the window.
    She was still awake and sitting in the darkness when Jon came in. He reached for the light and she said, “No, leave it off.”
    She lifted her nose. He smelled of cigarette smoke and something—or someone—else. He was breathing heavily from the climb up the stairs. “Where were you?” she asked.
    He said that he had been out at a small bar where young people danced to music from the seventies and sang karaoke. “It was strange.” He paused and then asked, as if to deflect further questions, “Are you okay? Did something happen?”
    She shrugged her shoulders, even though she knew that he could not see the gesture. She said that she had been thinking about home and about Del. She had tried to call but no one answered. Of course, it was noon or later there, and why should Del or Tomas be waiting for a phone call from her. She said that she missed the mountain and the smell of the mountain and she missed the mornings when they were young and would find their father sitting by the stove drinking coffee. “I miss him,” she said.
    Jon came to her and stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her chest and pressed his cheek against her head. “Don’t,” he said. “You’re making yourself crazy.”
    “And I worry about you. This city isn’t safe in the dark.”
    “I’m here. I’m safe.”
    She felt the heat of his breath against her head, his forearms against her breasts. “What will we do?” she asked. “Do we keep looking? Give up? Go home?”
    He released her and stood by the window and when he spoke his voice was quiet and floated upward. “We can’t give up yet.”
    “But I’m the only one looking. Jon, back home, when we hadn’t heard from Dad and we thought something was wrong, and we met with Del