Flashback by Jenny Siler

direction, evidently heading for the dartboards. I leaned my elbows on the table and watched him. He was handsome up close, his hair slightly mussed as if he’d just woken from a nap. He passed right by me, his eyes skimming my face, then moved on.
    I ordered another pint and let him play a game of darts. When he made his second trip to the bar, I elbowed my way in beside him.
    â€œDo I know you?” I asked.
    He signaled for the bartender, then looked over at me nonchalantly. “I don’t think so.”
    â€œNo. I’m sure I know you. It’s Brian, right?”
    He shrugged. “I’ve got that kind of look.”
    â€œMaybe this’ll jog your memory,” I told him. “Four o’clock this morning. Hotel Continental. Room two-oh-five.”
    The bartender came over. Brian ordered another pint and slid a twenty-dirham note across the bar.
    â€œWho the fuck are you?” I demanded. “And what do you want?”
    He picked up his glass, took his change, and turned to move away. “Listen, I really think you’ve got the wrong guy.”
    I watched him walk back to the dartboards, exchanging brief hellos as he went. Most of the Pub’s patrons seemed to know each other, and Brian was no exception.
    A young woman with dreadlocks muscled her way in next to me.
    â€œYou a regular?” I asked.
    She smiled. “Regular as I can be.”
    â€œYou know that guy over there?” I pointed to Brian.
    â€œSure.”
    â€œHis name’s Brian, right?”
    â€œCute, huh?” She nodded.
    â€œYou know anything about him?”
    The woman lit a cigarette and waved the smoke away. “American,” she said. “From California, I think. Poor guy.”
    â€œWhy do you say that?”
    â€œHe’s down here looking for his brother,” she explained. “Disappeared about a year ago.”
    â€œDid you know him? The brother, I mean.”
    She shook her head. “Before my time.”
    â€œWhat happened?”
    â€œThat’s the problem, isn’t it? No one knows.”
    The bartender appeared, and the woman ordered a vodka tonic.
    â€œHe was some kind of do-gooder,” she offered. “You know, trying to modernize the medina, bring the Internet to the carpet dealers.”
    I watched Brian put his beer down and start for the men’s room.
    â€œDon’t get any ideas,” the dreadlocked woman said wistfully as her drink arrived. “He’s single as they come, and appears to like it that way. Believe me, we’ve all tried.”
    I smiled. “Well, then, wish me luck.”
    â€œGood luck,” I heard her say as I started toward the rear of the bar.
    The rest rooms were tucked in a small hallway behind the pool table. I set my beer down next to Brian’s, slipped into the little corridor, and leaned against the wall next to the men’s-room door, listening to the sound of the faucets running. Something was wrong. No one took that long to wash his hands. Moving my ear to the door, I knocked lightly and got no answer.
    I put my hand on the knob and pushed. The bathroom and its single doorless stall were empty. The one small window was too small and too high to have provided an exit. Stepping back into the hallway, I surveyed my surroundings. Next to the men’s room was the women’s. Across the corridor was a door marked Office and a second, unmarked door. I tried the blank door and felt the knob give way in my hand. The door swung outward to reveal the dank and putrid alley beyond.
    Something moved in the darkness. I craned my head out to see a knot of rats swarming on the Pub’s garbage, a tangle of teeth and furless tails. Farther away, near where the alley opened onto the street, a shapeless beggar coughed, the sound hoarse and hollow as a death rattle. There was no sign of Brian.

SEVEN
    Figuring I’d try the El Minzah later, I took a taxi back to the Continental. I was doubtful