She went back in the bedroom. Jack was still under the covers with his head propped up on pillows, a grin on his face.
He said, “What’re you doing? Get in here, we’re just getting started.”
Kate said, “I can’t. I’ve got to go down and wait for them to call.”
“It’ll be over soon,” Jack said. “Luke’ll be home and you can get back to your normal life.”
Kate said, “You think so, huh? I don’t know what normal is.”
TWENTY
Did he dream it or did it really happen? He opened his eyes, focusing now on the handcuffs. His wrists stung where the metal cuffs had cut into his skin, drawing blood. The handcuffs were connected to a chain that snaked across the bed and continued across the scuffed floor to an eyebolt that was drilled into the hardwood.
He’d been there a day and a half and they hadn’t said anything about what they intended to do with him, although it didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on.
He thought there were four of them: Camo, the girl, the black guy, and one more who wasn’t around much-Luke thought of him as the mystery man. He’d seen the others but not him.
Luke could hear them through the thin walls of the cottage, talking like they were in the room with him. He could hear them doing other things, too, the bed shaking. He’d put the pillow over his ears so he didn’t have to hear her making all the sounds. He’d never heard people having sex and it sounded awful.
Of all of them, Camo was the worst, coming in the room at different times, hitting him across the face or pushing him down. Luke nervous when he heard the man’s voice-hick accent with a nasal twang-flinching when Camo walked behind him, not knowing when he’d get hit again, Camo laughing, getting a kick out of Luke’s misery.
The girl wasn’t much better. She brought him scraps of food, gnarled pieces of chicken they’d eaten but didn’t finish-a drumstick, a couple wings with a few slivers of meat. For the first time in his life, he understood what it was like to be hungry. He could hear Camo saying, “Tell that little rich prick that’s all he gets till his momma pays us.”
She liked to taunt him, too.
“You a virgin, Luke? I’d like to help you out but…”
Then she’d pull her shirt up and show him her boobs and say, “They’re beauties, ain’t they? Want to touch them?”
He didn’t know what to do.
She also liked to rub his leg and say, “How’s that feel? That wake up the little trouser mouse? Him want to come out, have some fun?”
He couldn’t help it, he’d get all excited.
She’d say, “Look at you popping the big tent, you little deviate. Teddy saw us right now, he’d come in cut that little thing off with a knife.”
Then she’d get a grin on her face and walk out of the room.
Celeste and Teddy seemed like they were perfect together-a couple of freaks.
They were in their room, watching TV, a show called Dog Eat Dog that Teddy loved. After every outrageous stunt, Teddy’d say, “That looks easy. Shit, I could do that.” He was sitting on a lawn chair in a black Drive-By Truckers T-shirt and Jockey briefs that had once been white but now were gray.
Celeste looked over at him and said, “What’re we going to do with him?” Teddy wasn’t what you’d call a great communicator.
He said, “Huh?”
“The kid,” Celeste said. “What’re we going to do with him?”
He said, “Don’t have a lot of choice in the matter.”
She wondered if he was being vague on purpose. “What does that mean?”
“You know.”
It sounded like he was planning to do something bad. Celeste said, “I never agreed to nothing like that.”
Teddy said, “He seen your face.”
There was a bottle of beer on the floor. He reached down without looking, picked it up, and took a drink.
Celeste said, “What difference does it make, where we’re going?”
Teddy slid his hand in his underwear and started scratching. He said, “Tell me that when your picture’s on CNN and federal marshals are looking for you.”
Celeste said, “That seems a tad exaggerated.”
“Think so, huh?”
Celeste said, “How ’bout the mom?”
Teddy said, “How ’bout her?”
Celeste said, “She hasn’t laid eyes on you.”
Teddy said, “Want to bet? I talked at her in the bar. She seen you, too. Remember?”
That’s right. She was sitting at the table. Celeste said, “What else you got planned?”
Teddy said, “Wait and find out.”
Celeste said, “This is like going to a movie, you know it?” She took off her jeans and lifted her T-shirt over her head and sat on the edge of the bed naked.
Teddy glanced over at her. “Better, on account of we’re in it.”
Celeste said, “I’ve always wanted to be a movie star.”
Teddy said, “Well, you look like one, setting there in the altogether.”
There was a knock on the door. DeJuan swung it open and came in the room. “Nighty-night,” he said, “and don’t let the bedbugs bite.”
Celeste saw him stare at her like a hungry dog. She picked up a pillow and held it up to her chest.
Teddy said, “What the hell you think you’re doing? We got people undressed in here.”
“You don’t want visitors, lock your door.”
“You check on the kid?”
DeJuan said, “Little man tucked in all cunchkey.”
He turned, walked out and closed the door.
Teddy said, “That bother you, him walking in seeing your taters?”
Celeste said, “Not too much. My dad would be loading a shotgun right now.”
Teddy said, “Then it’s a good thing he ain’t here.”
Celeste said, “I’ve been meaning to ask you-what kind a name is DeJuan? It doesn’t sound like a jig name, sounds more like a character in a Star Wars movie. Hey, maybe he’s really a space jig, come down from the cosmos to observe the ways of us white earth people.”
Teddy said, “He didn’t come from the cosmos. He come from the west side of Detroit. His given name’s DeJuan Green. Think you can put your prejudice aside and work with him?” Teddy grinned. “That’s not going to piss off the cosmic being or your warrior kinfolk, is it?”
Luke didn’t have anyone to blame but himself. He shouldn’t have come back up north. He shouldn’t have yelled at his mom. He didn’t know if she and Jack had slept together. It sure looked like it. But if his mom said it didn’t happen, he believed her, contrary to what he’d said earlier. He felt like everything he’d done the past seven months was wrong-one mistake after another-like he was being controlled by someone else. He knew it made no sense, but that’s what it felt like.
Luke was grateful for one thing. He talked to his dad and felt better about things, as Del Keane had said he would. He remembered looking up at the canopy, sunlight angling through the trees. It was mystical, like a scene from Lord of the Rings.
He said what was on his mind. Told his dad about seeing the first buck and how his hands shook and he couldn’t breathe. He told his dad how dumb he felt and how sorry he was, and how he wished he could replay it, try it again.
It was strange. When he finished saying what he had to say, he felt relieved. Felt a sense of calm, like his mom’s Land Rover had been lifted off him. He also remembered having a strange sense that someone was out there watching him. He turned a bunch of times, looking around, but didn’t see anyone.
He walked to the edge of the woods, looked out at the cornfield where he left his dad, saw him alive for the last time. He thought about walking into the field and finding the exact spot, but what good what it do? What purpose would it serve? He’d reconciled his feelings and that was enough.
He could see the farm in the distance. He remembered the farmer, a big man with beard stubble, wearing a beat-up old blue parka and a grease-stained cap with a bent brim that said cat diesel on the front. He hadn’t said much or changed his expression when Luke told him what had happened, but the man came through. Luke’s mom sent him a check for a thousand dollars thanking him for his help, and the farmer sent it back, saying he didn’t deserve to get paid for doing the right thing. Which had a lot more impact when Luke heard his farm was going under; the man could barely make ends meet.