Exodus

Page 37

“And she didn’t take Jamal?”
“She already had a boyfriend. Big dummy named Frisco, so she didn’t even look back. Girl was oblivious to Jamal’s crush. He was too afraid to ever tell her how he felt.”
“I can hear you back there,” said Jamal. “And I’m not sure I appreciate you sharing my business like that.”
“Ignore him. He’s bitter,” said Ronald. “Mostly because I told him about a thousand times to get off his seat cushion and tell her. Next time, maybe he’ll listen.”
“What he calls telling, I call nagging. Don’t count on me ever listening to that noise. And beware, y’all. The boy can nag like nobody’s business.”
I smiled at their easy banter. “You guys make me wish I had a brother.”
“You have one,” said Ronald. “His name is Peter, right?” He grinned at us and rode ahead to join his brother, reaching over to punch him lightly in the shoulder.
I glanced at Peter who was already looking at me. “I think I would have liked to have you as a real brother,” I said softly. “Your sister was a lucky girl.”
Peter smiled sadly. “I was the lucky one. But if you want, you can consider me your adopted brother. I’d like that.”
I reached my hand out and he took it. We rode down the street holding hands for a few seconds until we were interrupted by a swerving, drunk Bodo. He’d been doing so well and keeping to himself, I’d forgotten that he wasn’t feeling well; but when he kept on riding diagonally right into the guard rail on the side of the road and fell off his bike, I knew it was more serious than I’d realized.
We all stopped and circled back to help him.
“Can we stop for a little while?” he asked from his back on the ground. “I think I need just a bit of a rest.”
“Whatever gave you that impression?” asked Jamal, straddling his bike.
“I don’t know,” said Bodo, totally serious. “But something tellss me dat I should not be seeing da sky right now.”
“Get up, goofball,” I said, holding out my hand. “We’ll stop for some water and food, but then we need to keep going. We have only a few more hours of travel time before we have to hide and rest for the night.
A couple of cars were nearby, both of them looking like they had been in one of those smash-up derbies. The others stood around, looking up and down the street nervously. I knew exactly what they were thinking. How long can we stand out here and hope to not get challenged by some lunatic?
Peter got off his bike and hunted through the bags to get us all some water and something to munch on. I waved him away, not yet hungry enough to justify taking part of our meager supplies. Winky also declined the food but gladly took the water.
“We need to try and catch some water tonight,” said Peter, looking up at the sky. It was blue as could be right now, but that meant nothing in south Florida. Rain clouds could move in within minutes. Seconds, even.
“I’ll get on that,” I said, looking over at Bodo, disturbed by how pale his face was and the skinned elbow he’d suffered in his last fall. I went over and sat down next to him on the gravelly shoulder of the road, nudging him in the uninjured arm. “How’s it goin’?” I asked. “You feeling okay?”
He shook his head and said nothing.
I hated to see him looking so pitiful. “It is your stomach or Nina?”
“Both,” he said, looking off into the distance.
“Why don’t you call her again?”
“No. I haff no food for her. Da first time she comes back, I have to reward her.”
“Can’t you just pet her or something?”
“No. Birds of prey are not like dat. Dey are not like dogs dat chust want to have dare bellies tickled. Nina wants meat from me. Dat’s all.”
Buster came over as if on cue, angling his head under my hand to get a pet from me. I absently played with his ears.
“Just like Kiersten and her girls,” I said, trying to get a smile from him.
His responding snort had zero humor in it. “Maybe.”
I put my arm around him and leaned over to kiss his cheek. “When we get to the prison you can build a special place for her. Maybe you can find more birds, too, and train them. I’ll bet some of the kids would love to learn how to do that … what you do.”
“Maybe,” he said. He took another small sip of water and then looked at me. “Thank you for trying to make me feel better. I’m gonna be okay later. I chust need some time to make things all straight in my head. It’s very confusing for me right now. Da drugs are still swimming and swimming dare.”
I nodded, patting him on the back. “I know. I can wait. I’m here for you if you need me.”
Buster jumped up on Bodo, begging for attention. Bodo reached out to touch him on the head a few times with the tips of his fingers, making it seem like even petting the dog was too much effort.
“Me too, Bodo,” said Peter, holding out his hand. “Come on, I’ll help you up. We need to go.”
A sound of someone shouting off in the distance gave serious emphasis to his words. Buster barked several times before I was able to grab him and squeeze his mouth shut.
“No, Buster! No bark!” I growled at him. He stopped trying to bark and looked at me suspiciously.
Winky cocked her head. “Did you guys hear that?”
“Yeah,” said Jamal. “Good guys or bad guys, do you think?”
“Assume they’re all bad guys,” I said. “We need to get off the highway, now.”
We scrambled to our bikes, even Bodo moving faster than I’d seen him go all day. He was stumbling a bit, like he was drunk, but he was able to grab his handlebars and get on his ride.
“What about the sign?” I asked, looking at Winky, panicked. “For Rob and Fohi?”
“I’ll do it later.” She glanced left and right, looking over both sides of the shoulder. “Where are we going? Which way?”
“There!” said Peter, pointing to a copse of trees in the distance, off to our right. We had to get across at least one hundred yards of weeds and tall grasses to reach it.
***
“Run!” I said, pushing my bike a few feet before jumping on and pedaling. I waited for Bodo to get in front of me before I put too much energy into it.
Peter was in the lead, pumping his legs as fast as they would go. Winky was just behind him, followed by the twins.
Buster’s little body bounced all over the place as my bike went over the uneven bumps that sprung up out of the ground. They were clumps of grass, not earth, and in between the ground was soft. Our tires kept getting stuck, making the going much slower than I would have liked.
More shouts came from behind us. I risked a look back and saw no one yet. “Go!” I said, not too loud, but desperately enough that it had an effect. Legs pumped harder and bodies hunched farther over the handlebars in our efforts to go faster.
Peter jumped off his bike and started running with it, his tires giving him too much trouble to continue. The rest of us soon followed suit, and the last twenty yards had us all running like charging bulls at the trees.
We pushed our bikes behind the thickest part of it and stood there for a few minutes, getting our breath back. Bodo fell to the ground, letting his bike drop with him. Luckily, it fell in the other direction. I wasn’t sure he would have been able to move if it had landed on him. He turned his head and vomited into the grass, moaning.
Peter bent down and stroked his forehead from behind. “Shhhh, I’m sorry you feel sick, but you have to be quiet.” He looked up at Jamal. “Can you bring me some water for him, please?”
While Jamal moved to get him a bottle, Ronald, Winky and I went to the edge of the trees, trying to get a good look at the highway.
At first we saw nothing, but then we saw a guy. And then another. And eventually a whole group of them, seven in total. The majority of them seemed energized, happy to be partying it up on the highway. But a few of them, three it looked like, did not. They walked in a line, their shoulders stooped and their hands in front of them like they were folded in prayer. All of them were staring at the ground.
“What in the …?” said Ronald. “Why are they walking like that?”
“Who?” asked Winky, pushing aside some leaves that were in her way.
“Those guys with the prayer-hands,” I said. “In the middle, kind of.”
I looked at Winky in time to see her eyes widen.
“Slaves,” she said in a whisper.
“What?” I asked, looking back. “Slaves? Where?”
“She’s right,” said Ronald. “They have their hands tied, and they’re all strung up together, in a line. See?” He nodded his head in their direction.
“I can’t see any rope, but it sure looks like that’s what’s going on,” I said. “This is not good. Not good at all. Maybe they’re not slaves. Maybe they’re the food.”
“Regardless, it’s bad news. What’re we gonna do?” asked Winky.
“We’ve got to do something,” said Ronald.
“We do?” I asked, looking to them for confirmation. Deep down I knew the answer, but I so wanted to be able to just walk away and mind my own business for a change. I was already worried about taking care of the people we had with us now. I glanced over at Bodo, sleeping now in the grass with his mouth hanging open, his pitiful bald, white head practically glowing with sweat. I shook my head at our chances of success.
“Yeah, we do,” said Winky. “But not all of us. And not out here in the open.”
“You have a plan already?” asked Ronald.
“Yep. We wait for them to go to sleep, sneak in, take the slaves out, bring them with us, take off for the prison, make it there by tomorrow. And pray they don’t wake up in the middle of the rescue.”
“Dang, you’re good,” said Ronald, smiling. “I appreciate your positive outlook in the face of these odds.”
“Thank you,” she said, grinning back. “No one ever got anywhere thinking negatively.”
“I couldn’t agree with you more,” said Ronald. “My daddy always used to say something similar. Think positive, act positive, be positive. He always said that you become what you think about most of the time, so you need to think good things to be a good person.”
“Your dad sounded like my kinda guy,” said Winky. “So are you in, or are you going to stay behind with Peter?”
He shrugged. “I’ll go.”
“I think it’s better if he stays behind,” I said. “No offense, Ronald, but Peter and Bodo need someone watching over them, and Winky and I are going in for sure. Plus, Winky’s the quietest one of all of us, so if anyone’s going to be able to sneak past those guys, it’ll be her.”
Ronald shrugged. “No skin off my back. I just want to help any way I can. If I can avoid being killed at the same time, well, that’s just a bonus.” He flashed his super-white teeth at us.
“Okay. That’s the plan, then. Thanks, Winky.”
“My pleasure. When do you want to do it?”
“When it’s dark. We were going to stop anyway, right? Might as well set up camp here while we wait. Maybe they won’t go far.”
Winky frowned. “Okay, well, at some point I need to get back up to the road and put the symbol down for Rob and Fohi.”
“You don’t need to do it during the day,” said Ronald. “We can keep any eye out for them now ourselves and go get them if they come by.”
“They’re going to be riding right into this group. That’s what worries me,” I said.
“You don’t think those canner guys or slave drivers will stop here on the highway in the middle of the day, do you?” asked Winky.