In Between Days (26 page)

CHLOE HAD PACKED
only the bare necessities: a toothbrush, a comb, her makeup bag, a few changes of clothes, clean underwear, tampons, and a wallet containing a little over five hundred dollars. She’d stuffed all of these things into a backpack along with her passport, which Richard had managed to find in her bedroom earlier that day.

Apparently, he’d stopped by while she and Raja were out getting lunch, but he had left her an envelope with Brandon, an envelope containing her passport, the money, and a short letter in which he’d told her to be careful with the money and to not do anything stupid. Given the fact that she’d just asked him to get her passport for her that morning, he must have surmised by now that they were planning to leave the country, but he hadn’t said anything about this in his letter. He simply said to be careful and that he loved her very much, and as soon as she’d read those words, she’d felt a sinking in her chest, realizing then how long it would be before she saw him again and suddenly regretting that she hadn’t said good-bye.

Now, however, as she sits in the backseat of Brandon’s car next to Raja, staring out across the street at the blinking neon lights of Montrose Boulevard, she is thinking only about Raja and about what lies ahead of them tonight, about the long trip, the risky crossing, the uncertainty of a future in Mexico. She grips Raja’s hand tightly, squeezes it until he finally squeezes back. Since they’d left Brandon’s apartment, he has said virtually nothing to her, has given only one-word answers to her questions. She tries to meet his eyes, but he is staring out the window now, expressionless.

As they pass the high-rises in downtown Houston, Brandon takes a right onto a side street, then looks down at the directions that Chloe had printed out for him earlier that night. He shakes his head.

“Never heard of any of these streets before,” he says finally. “In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever been to this part of town.”

“Yeah,” Chloe says. “Me neither.”

“You sure you don’t want me to pick you up later?”

“No, no,” Chloe says. “We’ll be fine.” Then she thinks about where they’ll be later, how far away from Brandon and Richard and everyone else they’ll be. Traveling along I-10, perhaps, or parked outside the border patrol station or possibly even in Mexico, surrounded by thousands of strangers.

“And you’re sure you have a place to stay?” Brandon asks.

“I’m sure.”

Brandon looks back at her in the mirror, meets her eyes, then smiles. “You know, I feel really shitty about kicking you guys out like this.”

“You’re not kicking us out,” she says. “And besides, you’ve done enough. More than enough. Seriously.”

Brandon looks back at the road, takes another right. “Well, the offer still stands, you know. If you change your mind, you can always come back. At least for a couple of days.”

She reaches forward and pats his shoulder. “Thanks, Brandon,” she says. “We appreciate it.”

Then she leans back and puts her hand back on Raja’s hand and looks out the window. Around her, the landscape of Houston is suddenly changing. Dark, poorly lit streets filled with enormous industrial-sized buildings, warehouses and textile mills, dry-good suppliers, and hardware manufacturers. There are no restaurants here, no bars or convenience stores. Just darkness and emptiness, the hollow structures of industry, she thinks. She puts her head back on Raja’s shoulder and closes her eyes. She can hear his heart beating rapidly now, his breathing shallow and tight.

“You know, I think it’s up here,” Brandon says after a moment, turning. “The street.”

And when she opens her eyes again she can suddenly see a large truck in the distance with its headlights on and, beside it, another small truck with its headlights off, parked diagonally across the street. She can also make out two figures standing beside the trucks, and as they approach, she begins to realize that one of these two figures is Dupree.

“You can pull over here,” she says to Brandon when they’re about a hundred yards away.

“You sure?” he says, looking back at her. “I could take you closer.”

“No, no,” she says, “this is fine.” Then she grabs her backpack and opens the door, and Raja does the same.

“Thanks again,” she says. “If there’s ever a way for us to repay you for all of this, we will. I promise.”

“Hey, it’s my pleasure,” Brandon says. “Really. No worries.” Then he looks at her. “But look, just take care of yourselves, okay? Be safe. If anything happens to you guys, your brother’s going to kill me, all right?”

“We will,” she says, and then, though she doesn’t know why, she leans into the car and kisses Brandon on the cheek. “You’re a good guy, Brandon,” she says. “Truly.”

He laughs and shakes his head. “Well, I know a lot of people who would disagree with you, but thanks.”

Then he puts the car into gear, and as she closes the door, he winks at her. Stepping back, she watches his car until the taillights are only tiny specks, tiny fireflies, flickering along the horizon.

Dupree is standing next to the truck, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a cigarette, swaying back and forth nervously. He is wearing a poncho with a picture of Jimi Hendrix printed on the front and has the hood pulled tight over his face. When they’re close enough to hear him, he says, “Who was that?” And when Chloe doesn’t answer, adds, “In the car?”

“Oh,” she says, putting down her backpack. “That was just a friend, a friend of my brother’s. He was just giving us a ride.”

Dupree nods. “Does he know why you’re here?”

“Nope.”

“You sure?”

“I’m positive.”

Beside Dupree is a short olive-skinned man with ruddy hair and a goatee-style beard, presumably their driver. He looks about forty, maybe forty-five, and is neatly dressed. He looks at Dupree and nods, and then Dupree turns back to Chloe. “This is Teo,” he says, looking at the man. “He’ll be driving you two tonight. Teo, this is Raja and Chloe.”

Teo nods at them both, but says nothing, doesn’t even extend his hand.

“So you got the money?” Dupree asks, turning back to Chloe.

She opens her backpack, then hands him the envelope. Dupree opens it, studies the bills for a moment, then hands them to Teo, who proceeds to count them.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” Dupree says, speaking quietly now. “You two are gonna ride in the back, okay?” He motions toward the truck, a white cargo truck, which resembles a U-Haul in its setup. No windows or doors. Just a large, empty box used for transporting goods, it seems. “It’s gonna be a bit of a tight fit, okay. He’s got a bunch of other shit back there, you know, but it’s only gonna be for a few hours, all right? Three to San Antonio, and then another two to Laredo. And we got some other stuff for you back there. Some food and water, blankets, stuff like that.”

Chloe nods. Then she looks back at the truck, suddenly concerned. “How are we going to breathe back there?”

“Oh right,” Dupree says. “No worries about that. He’s got some holes in the floor, and another small one on the side.” He looks at her. “You’ll be fine.” Then he reaches into his pocket and pulls something out. “And another thing. You’ll want to hold on to this.” He hands her a small temporary cell phone, a cheap plastic thing like the ones she used to buy in college when her own cell phone was on the fritz. “I’m assuming you two aren’t carrying phones on you right now.”

Chloe shakes her head.

“Good,” Dupree says, “because people can track that shit, you know.” Then he takes a drag on his cigarette and places the phone in her hand. “Anyway, anything goes wrong back there and you use this thing, okay? It’s got one number programmed into it, and that number will get you Teo. Aside from that, though, you shouldn’t be making any other calls, okay?”

Chloe looks over at Teo, but his head is still down, counting.

“And one last thing,” Dupree adds. “Teo’s gonna make two stops. One outside of Houston to pick up a friend, and then another one in San Antonio to pick up this girl, some chick who’ll be riding with you for the last two hours, okay? If the girl’s not there, then you might have to wait another couple hours in San Antonio, but Teo’s gonna let you out if that happens, okay? Otherwise it’s gonna be a straight shot right through. If everything goes as planned, you’ll be eating breakfast in Mexico tomorrow morning.”

Chloe nods, feeling suddenly overwhelmed, then looks at Raja, who seems concerned.

“And where’s he going to drop us off?” Chloe asks.

“Bus station,” Dupree says. “There’s one right on the other side of the border. From there, you two can go anywhere you want.”

Dupree tosses his cigarette on the ground and grinds it out with his sneaker. She can tell that he’s nervous, anxious, that he wants to get this over with as soon as possible. He motions for them to follow him around the side of the van, and then he opens up the back door and steps onto the bumper. The space behind him is dark and filled with large cardboard boxes and crates, a veritable barricade of illegal cargo, it seems.

He motions for them to step up into the van, then leads them down a narrow center aisle between the boxes. In the back, there’s a space no more than six feet wide with a couple of dirty blankets, laid down like a rug, a flashlight, a few bottles of bottled water, potato chips, and a bucket, a bucket that, Dupree explains, they’re supposed to piss in if there’s an emergency.

“I know it’s not exactly the Ritz-Carlton,” he adds, “but look, it could be worse, right?”

Then he points to a series of tennis ball–sized holes in the floor and one on the side of the wall, where he insists they’ll get more than enough air. Chloe stares at the holes uncertainly, then she puts down her backpack and sits down on one of the dirty blankets, and a moment later Raja sits down beside her.

Dupree puts his hand on top of one of the boxes, then looks back at the open door nervously. “Look,” he says, leaning down now, whispering. “There’s one other thing I gotta tell you guys. And I didn’t want to mention this shit to Teo, because, trust me, the dude would’ve dumped your asses a while ago. But look, this morning—” He pauses to double-check the back door. “Look, this morning some cops were hanging out around the store, talking to Simone.”

She looks at him. “This morning?”

“Yeah.”

“And did she tell them anything?”

“Who the fuck knows?” Dupree shrugs. “With that girl, who the fuck knows what goes on in her mind?”

Chloe sits up.

“And another thing,” he adds. “Your mom was around the day before that. You know, just talking to her.”

“My mom?”

“Yeah.”

“She was talking to Simone?”

“Apparently.” He looks around him. “Anyway, I just thought you two should know.”

Chloe nods, though this information has terrified her.

Dupree stands up straight again and takes a step back. He puts his hands together. “Okay, amigos. I gotta split. Any other questions?”

“Just one,” Raja says, speaking for the first time since they arrived.

Chloe looks at him, still trying to process what Dupree has told her about Simone.

“You feel like you can trust this guy?” Raja continues. “Teo?”

“Trust him with my life,” Dupree says.

Raja nods, seemingly satisfied.

“And don’t worry,” Dupree adds. “The cross will be smooth. They’ll probably open up the back door or something, but they’re not gonna look around. Like I said, he knows these people. As long as you don’t make any noise, you’ll be fine.”

Dupree looks at them then expectantly, waiting for something else, but Chloe has nothing else to say. Should she thank him? she wonders. Give him a hug? She feels like she should say something, but suddenly she can’t bring herself to speak. She’s thinking only about Simone and her mother and the cops, how they’re all involved now.

Dupree takes another step back and pushes two of the boxes into the center aisle, then another two, making a barricade behind him, trapping them inside.

“This is just so they can’t see you,” he explains as he continues to move the boxes. “Hope you’re not claustrophobic or anything.”

Chloe says nothing. She grips Raja’s hand, and he squeezes back.

When Dupree finally finishes, she can no longer see any part of his body, just the pointy top of his hood.

“Okay, amigos,” he says, pulling down the door halfway.
“Vaya con Dios!”
Then he yanks down the door the rest of the way, letting it slam behind him, and suddenly everything is dark. A moment later, she can hear him putting on a padlock, then tapping the back of the van three
times with his fist. She lets go of Raja’s hand, then fumbles for the flashlight, turns it on, and looks at Raja.

He’s shaking his head. “There’s something not right here,” he says.

“What do you mean?”

But he doesn’t answer. He just says it again. “There’s just something not right.”

IT HAD BEEN
an accident. That’s how Raja had explained it to her afterward, when he came home from Tyler Beckwith’s dorm room, covered in mud. It had been an accident, he’d said as he sat there in the middle of his own room, naked, holding his knees to his chest.

There were no scratches on his body, no bruises, no signs of a struggle, but his eyes were strangely blank. His body was covered in sweat, his muscles tense. Behind him on the floor lay his clothes, the jeans and T-shirt he’d been wearing earlier, crumpled up in a ball.

What the hell had happened? Chloe wanted to know. Where was Seung? But Raja didn’t answer, and suddenly she felt guilty, guilty for not being there, guilty for running away.

She was supposed to have waited. She was supposed to have waited outside the door with the two cans of shaving cream, ready at any moment to enter. But she hadn’t. As soon as she’d heard the screaming, as soon as she’d heard the sound of Tyler Beckwith’s voice, she’d run, bolted down the hallway, then down the staircase and out the door.

Had anyone seen her? Raja wanted to know.

She shook her head no, but then she remembered. Yes, she said, one girl. A girl she didn’t know. But she wasn’t worried about it. And she wasn’t. At the time, she wasn’t worried about it, though later this girl would come to testify against her in front of the Student Judiciary Council, would describe in detail the two cans of shaving cream she’d been holding in her hands as she fled from the dorm.