The Immigration cop said to me in passable English, “Where you go now?”
“Hue.”
“How you go Hue?”
I showed him my bus ticket.
He seemed a little surprised, but I had the five-dollar ticket so I must be telling the truth. He asked me, “When you go?”
“Now.”
“Yes? You leave hotel?”
The guy knew I was checked in until tomorrow. I said, “Yes, leave hotel today.”
“Why you leave today?”
“No train to Hue tomorrow. No plane. Go bus. Today.”
“Yes. Okay. You go to police in Hue.”
I said sharply, “I know that.”
“Lady go with you?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. We talk.”
He asked, “Where lady now?”
“Lady shop.” I looked at my watch and said, “I go now.”
“No. You need stamp.” He produced the photocopies I’d given to them when I arrived, and he said, “I stamp. Ten dollars.”
I gave him a ten. He stamped my photocopies, and wrote something on the stamps. I think they make this up as they go along.
I left before he thought of anything else.
I looked at the stamps and saw that the guy had handwritten Hue — Century over the red ink, so he already knew where I was staying. He’d also written the time, 11:15, and dated it.
I met Susan down the street, and she asked me, “Any problems?”
“No. Just another round-eye tax.” I showed her the photocopies with the red stamps on them and asked, “What are these?”
She looked at them and said, “These are the old internal travel stamps you used to need years ago.”
“Cost me ten bucks.”
“I buy my own rubber stamps for five bucks.”
“Bring them next time.”
She said to me, “So, you’re staying at the Century Riverside. That’s where I stayed when I was in Hue.”
“Well, that’s where you’re staying this time. But we’ll try to get separate rooms.”
We took a taxi back to the Grand Hotel. As we drove along the road, Susan asked me, “If I weren’t here, would you have gotten a Viet girl to stay with you at the hotel all week, or had a different one every night, or picked up a Western woman at the Nha Trang Sailing Club?”
There didn’t seem to be a correct answer among the choices. I said, “I would have spent more time at the Oceanographic Institute and continued with the cold showers.”
“No, I mean really.”
“I’m involved at home.”
Silence.
I’m good at this stuff, so I said, “Even if I wasn’t involved with anyone, when I’m on an assignment, I never do anything that can complicate or compromise the mission. But in this case, you’re sort of part of the team — as I very recently found out — and therefore I felt I could make an exception.”
She replied, “I’m not part of the team, and you didn’t know anything about that in Saigon when we decided to come to Nha Trang together.”
I didn’t recall making that decision, but again, I know when to shut up.
She continued, “So, if you’re on an assignment with a female co-worker, then you might consider a sexual or romantic involvement. That’s how you met what’s-her-name.”
“Can we stop at the marketplace for a leash?”
“Sorry.”
We arrived at the Grand without any further conversation.
At the front desk, there was a fax for Susan on Bank of America letterhead. I said, “Maybe your cyclo loan has been approved.”
She read the fax and handed it to me. It was from Bill, of course, and it read: Washington firm absolutely insists that you return to Saigon as soon as possible. They need to talk with you via e-mail. On a personal note, I would have no objection if you wanted to come to the Vincents’ party, Tet Eve. We can be civilized about this, and perhaps discuss our relationship, if any. Need a full response.
I handed the fax back to her.
She said to me, “It’s your decision now, Paul. These are your bosses.”
I said, “This is directed to you, not me.”
“Oh. Well, I have no bosses in Washington. I did the favor for the American consulate in Saigon. End of story.”
I wasn’t so sure of that, but I said, “Fax Bill that you’re going with me to Hue.”
She got a piece of fax paper from the desk clerk and wrote on it. She handed it to me, and I read: Mr. Brenner and I are headed to Hue. Inform his firm of same. Will return to Saigon sometime week after next. Regards to the Vincents from me, and my regrets.
Susan went into a small back room with the desk clerk and came out a few minutes later. She said to me, “I told the desk clerk we were checking out today, and we needed a taxi in half an hour to take you to the bus station and me to the train station.”
We climbed the stairs, and I said, “Dress for adventure.”
We were downstairs in the lobby at noon, both dressed in blue jeans, polo shirts, and walking shoes. We checked out, and Susan led me into the dining room. We found Lucy waiting on tables on the veranda, and Susan pressed some money into her hands. The old woman thanked us profusely. She said something to Susan, who said to me, “She said she doesn’t remember you, but she remembers the American soldiers who were… very high-spirited and… crazy, but who were always kind to her. She wishes us a safe journey.”
“Tell her I will always remember the kindness and the patience of the young ladies here who made our time away from the war so pleasant.”
Susan translated, the old woman bowed, then we held each other’s shoulders and kissed, French-style, both cheeks.
We went back to the lobby, got our bags, and went outside, where a taxi was waiting for us.
Susan said, “That was very nice. What you said to each other.”
“We’re old friends. We went through a war together.”
The driver put our bags in the trunk and off we went.
BOOK IV
Highway One
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The taxi from the hotel dropped Susan off at the train station first, then me at the bus terminal.
I went into the terminal, then back outside and took a taxi to the Thong Nhat Hotel on the beach. I left my luggage with the bell captain, and went to the terrace and got a table. Within five minutes, Susan joined me.
We had some hours to kill before we needed to be at Slicky Boy Tours, and this was as good a place as any and wouldn’t attract attention. The clientele was all Western, and no one from the Ministry of Public Security was dining there.
Susan and I had lunch.
I asked her, “Why are you taking this trip with me?”
“I don’t want to go back to Saigon.”
“Why not?”
“I’d rather be with you.”
“Why?”
“Well… you might think it’s because I’m supposed to keep an eye on you, or you might think it’s because I’m bored and I want some excitement, or you might think it’s because I’m crazy about you.”
“I had all three thoughts.”
She smiled and said, “Pick the ones that suit you best. But no more than two.”
I thought about that and said, “The ones that suit me best are the first two because if something happened to you because of the last one, I’d never forgive myself.”
She lit a cigarette and stared out at the fishing boats coming out of the river into the sea. She said, “I don’t want you to feel responsible for my safety. I can take care of myself.”
“Okay. But even in the infantry, we had the buddy system. Two guys who looked out for each other.”