Letter in hand, I'm out on the street looking for my driver. It's 7:07 a.m. and he's nowhere in sight. Should I wait? A very smiley driver pulls up. "Motorbike, Miss?" he asks and I hesitate a little; usually I would wait. But I agree, deciding to take another "day off."
Again, the day feels lighter knowing that I am free at the end of it - I am almost giddy.
After school, I have the taxi drop me off at the top of the street instead of taking me all the way down to the castle alley because I want to see if Nam is in his spot. As soon as I hop out and look over, I see his hand raise in an awkward wave; of course, he has spotted me from two blocks away through a crowd of people. He is sitting almost cross-legged on his bike, surrounded by three motorbike cronies and as I walk over to him, they snicker a little. But he gestures me to come. When I hand him the letter written in Vietnamese, they find this especially amusing. I just have to wonder what he has told them, or if any of them were there for The Scene the other morning.
He takes out his glasses, puts them on and reads the letter. He stops three times while reading it, looks up right at me and says "yeah."
He nods his head once more at the end, puts his glasses back in his pocket and at the same moment, we both put our hands out to shake.
He tells me that when he got out to the street today, everyone told him that I was already gone. I told him I looked for him, but that I had to go. Again, he nods his head.
"Ok, goodbye," I say.
"See you again?" he says.