Dead on Arrival

Home > Urban > Dead on Arrival > Page 8
Dead on Arrival Page 8

by Kiki Swinson


  The garbagemen picked up everyone’s trash by six o’clock in the morning, so Reese made sure it was front and center so I didn’t have to get up early in the morning and do it myself. He was a good man at times. I loved when he’d make breakfast for me some mornings, or when he’d run bathwater for me when he knew I’d had a bad day at work. Those nice things didn’t outweigh the fucked-up shit he did: the gambling problem, the infidelity that happened a few years ago, not paying our bills on time, and the fact that he allowed his baby mama to disrespect me a few times in the past. Somehow I forgave him, and accepted his marriage proposal when he asked me to marry him a couple of months later. All in all, I knew Reese would fuck up a wet dream, but in his own little way, I knew that he loved me, which was all I could ask for. Because his love was all I needed.

  While I stood there at the bedroom window, I noticed a car had come out of nowhere and parked across the street, in front of my neighbor’s house. I looked closer and saw someone in the driver’s seat, and it spooked me. My heart leaped from my chest while I stared at the car. Then it started moving slowly. I stepped back from the window and pulled the curtains shut while I peered around the edge of the fabric. “What the fuck?” I said, my words barely audible as I watched the car drive away slowly. I wanted to know who that person was and why their car was parked across the street from my house. Was it someone that Reese owed money to? Or was it one of his fucking mistresses stalking my house? Whoever the hell it was, I didn’t appreciate them spying on my house. That ain’t cool, and Reese was going to hear about it.

  After the car drove completely out of sight, I walked away from the window and sat down on the edge of the bed. I looked at the cup of tea on the table near my bed, but I didn’t want it. I wanted answers from Reese, and tonight I was going to get them.

  15

  REESE

  I swear, it felt like I had run at least five miles around the terminal. “Where the fuck are y’all?” I mumbled underneath my breath as I panted. I was tired as hell, but I knew I couldn’t stop until I found the people who’d escaped the container. The pressure I felt bearing down on me was a heavy load to carry, but I had to complete my task.

  After running around for twenty minutes, my cell phone started ringing. I pulled it from my pocket and noticed it was Dawn calling me again. I knew that if I didn’t answer this time, she was going to continue to call me until I finally answered. I took a deep breath and then I exhaled and took the call. “Hello.”

  “Why the fuck didn’t you answer my call earlier?”

  “Because I’m working.”

  “Do you know that I saw somebody sitting in a car watching our fucking house a few minutes ago?” she roared.

  I could tell that she was pissed. “What car?”

  “I don’t know what kind of car it was. But it was a black, four-door car. And when the person driving it saw me looking at them, they drove away. So, tell me who the fuck you know that would do some bullshit like that?”

  “Look, I can’t answer that because I don’t know anyone that would do something like that.”

  “Was it one of your bitches?” she yelled.

  “Fuck no! I don’t have any bitches!” I whispered harshly.

  “Well, who do you owe money to? It could’ve been them.”

  “I don’t owe anybody any money,” I lied. “Maybe they were watching somebody else’s house,” I continued, trying to calm her down. With all the shit I had going on out here at this terminal, that shit she was talking about was minor. And I wasn’t gonna deal with it now. Or later, for that matter.

  “Well, if they were watching someone else’s house, then why did they drive away when they saw me looking at them?”

  “Dawn, I can’t answer that right now. They’re gone, right?”

  “Yeah, they’re gone.”

  “So then, why are we talking about it? I’ve got a lot of stuff on my plate right now, so can we talk about this some other time?”

  “What’s going on? Why do you sound like you’re out of breath?” she asked.

  “Because I’m running around the pier working,” I told her.

  “But you drive around in the straddle carrier, so again, I’m gonna ask you why you sound like you’re out of breath.” She wouldn’t let up.

  “What’s with all the questions, Dawn? You know I’m out here working.” I was defensive. She knew I was getting irritated, but that didn’t stop her from pressing the issue.

  “Yeah, and I also know what kind of job you’re trying to pull off tonight, and I know that you don’t sound like your usual self.”

  “Listen, baby, everything is good. I’ve just got a lot on my plate that needs to be done.”

  “Have you started on the job?”

  I sighed heavily. “Yes, I’m in the middle of it now.”

  “Okay, well, if you’re in the middle of it, then why aren’t you in the machine?”

  “I was just in the machine. I got out for a moment. But I’m—” I paused. “Hey, you, bring your ass back here!” I yelled, not realizing that I had just let the cat out of the bag.

  “Reese, who are you talking to?” she belted out. I could hear the concern in her voice and I could tell that she was alarmed. But I couldn’t worry about that now. I had to get these fucking people that were trying to escape before I fell deep into some hot water.

  “Dawn, I’m gonna have to call you back,” I told her, and I abruptly disconnected our call.

  I knew she was going to be upset with me and be worried about what was going on, but I couldn’t entertain that thought. My main concern was catching these people before someone else at the terminal did.

  Immediately after I hung up with Dawn, she called me back. As badly as I wanted to answer her call, I couldn’t. I knew that if I did, she’d slow me down with all her fucking questions. So I turned the ringer off, shoved my cell phone down into my pocket, and raced toward the Asian guy. I ran after the guy for at least two hundred feet before I caught up with him. And when I got within arm’s reach, I grabbed him by the back of his shirt and pulled him back toward me. It seemed like everything happened in slow motion. “Where the fuck you think you’re going?” I hissed. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

  “Pu jie,” I heard him say. I wasn’t sure what that meant, but the expression on his face spoke volumes.

  “Yeah, what the fuck ever!” I spat, and led him back to the container.

  Four seconds into the walk back to the railcar, my cell phone started vibrating in my pocket. I started to ignore it, but the call might be from Edward, so I pulled it from my pocket and looked at the caller ID. Seeing that it was Brian, I answered it on the third ring. “Yeah,” I said.

  “Where you at?” he asked me.

  “I’m about four hundred feet away from the train tracks. Three of the Asian people climbed out of the first container. But I caught one of ’em.”

  “Do you know where the other ones ran to?”

  “Fuck no! That’s why I called Ed and told him to send you over here to help me. Where are you?”

  “I’m standing next to your straddle carrier.”

  “Good. Stay right there and make sure no one else crawls out of there. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  “All right,” he said.

  It took me another two minutes to meet Brian back at the train car, and when I got there he had a lot of questions for me. “Where did you catch him at?” he asked.

  “The son of a bitch almost made it to the gate on the west wing.”

  “Think the other ones made it past the gate?”

  “It’s hard to say. They could really be anywhere around here,” I told him.

  “You know we’re fucked if Customs or the port police find them before we do.”

  “Of course I do. That’s why I told Ed to send somebody over here to help me find ’em.”

  “Whatcha going to do with this one?”

  “Make him crawl back inside the container.”


  “You think he’s going to do it?”

  “He ain’t got no other choice. I mean, it ain’t like we can walk around with this little motherfucker. Look how he’s dressed. He definitely looks like he just crawled off the boat.”

  “All right, well, let’s get him back in there before somebody sneaks up on us.”

  I looked at the Asian guy and pushed him forward. “Come on so you can get your ass back in that container,” I instructed him, even though I knew he didn’t understand a word I was saying.

  “Think he understands you?” Brian asked.

  “Probably not.” I continued to push the guy toward the train car.

  “Well, get him back inside and I’ll go look for the other two,” Brian insisted, and then he walked off.

  While Brian made his way alongside the train tracks to look for those other two men, I stayed back and forced the Asian guy back into the container through a small rusty hole at the top. It was hard for him to jimmy his way up the side of the container, but after a minute of cursing him out and pushing him upward with all the strength I had, I got him back where he was supposed to be. “Don’t bring your motherfucking ass back out of there,” I cursed, and then I punched the side of the container with my fists. I got no response from anyone inside the container, but I knew that they wanted out of there, and fast.

  Once I had everything under wraps on my end, I climbed back in my straddle carrier and watched both containers from my seat. I needed to appear as though I was working, just in case one of the timekeepers or the terminal managers happened to come over to where I was. I don’t need to garner any attention. My boys and I have too much money at stake. They’d kill me if I fucked this job up.

  16

  DAWN

  Somehow I fell asleep after talking to Reese. I didn’t get to sleep long, but I was able to close my eyes for a couple of hours. That black car was still fresh on my mind, and I couldn’t shake the fact that it might come back. So, I crawled out of bed and snuck over to the bedroom window and peered around the curtains really slowly. I looked at the spot across the street and thankfully the car wasn’t there. I even looked up and down the street and didn’t see the car, so that gave me a sense of peace. It didn’t negate the fact that I wanted to know who the driver of the car was, I was just happy that the car wasn’t out there this time around.

  I crawled back into the bed and lay there thinking about how the job was going for Reese. Thinking back on how he was talking to me over the phone, he sounded a bit stressed out. Now that I thought about it, he always sounded stressed out when he was picking locks on the containers out there on the pier. But then again, this job had bigger risks than stealing flat-screen TVs and fur coats. I remember back when a few other longshoremen got caught helping people from third-world countries escape from a couple of containers. US Customs and federal agents locked their asses up and gave every last one of those guys five- to ten-year sentences. And then on top of that, those guys had to pay restitution and lost their longshoremen credentials. I heard a few of them came home a few years ago, but they could never get another job with the union. So their lives are fucked. I’m sure they found menial jobs at your local 7-Eleven or the CVS store. But it’s not like working at the terminal. Men who have worked for the union can make a minimum salary of $65,000 a year. Right before my father retired, he made $175,000 a year. He doesn’t make that kind of money now, but he gets a nice-ass retirement check and he’s living a good life, which is what I want for Reese. I try on the regular to get him to stop stealing from those containers and work hard like my father did when he was working at the terminal. But everything I say to Reese goes in one ear and right out the other. He hates when I compare him to my dad. But I don’t do it to insult or belittle him. I say it because my father was a great leader and I want the same thing for Reese. Too bad he never listens.

  17

  REESE

  Brian finally called me after I sat in the straddle carrier for more than thirty minutes. “Where the fuck you at?” I asked him. I was irritated as hell. I wanted to hurry up and finish this job so we could move on to the other work we had to do to get our union check. I’m sure the timekeepers were walking around here trying to see where we were.

  “We gotta problem,” he said.

  “What kind of problem?” I wondered aloud. I wasn’t in the mood to hear any more bad news. This situation could not get any worse.

  “I caught one of the other Asian dudes, but when I grabbed him he started doing that karate shit on me. The motherfucker was whipping my ass until I slipped and fell down.”

  “So, what’s the problem?”

  “I made the mistake of strangling him when I put him in a head lock.”

  “So, you’re telling me he’s dead?”

  “Yeah, the little motherfucker is slumped over on the ground a few feet away from me.”

  Hearing Brian tell me that he just snuffed out one of the Asian immigrants made me sick to my stomach. With the knots turning nonstop in the pit of my stomach, my heart raced at an uncontrollable speed. What else could go wrong?

  “Think I should call Edward and tell ’im?” Brian wanted to know.

  I was trying to think of a good answer to give him, but my mind went completely blank. I literally lost sight of everything around me until Brian brought me back to reality.

  “Yo, Reese, man, I need to know what to do before the timekeeper or one of the terminal managers rolls up on me,” Brian pressed.

  “Well, I know calling Edward definitely wouldn’t be a good idea. So if you think you could pick him up and drag him back over here, then do so.”

  “And then do what with him?”

  “We’re gonna have to figure out a way to get him back into one of the containers,” I suggested, even though I knew that putting that guy back inside the container wouldn’t be easy.

  “What should we do about the other guy?”

  “He’s probably found a way off the terminal, so let’s just worry about the guy you got and go from there.”

  “A’ight. Well, I’ma be there in a few minutes,” Brian told me and we hung up.

  I was really starting to see why Dawn told me not to get involved with this job the first time I did it. This whole plan had gone straight to hell in a handbasket. And not knowing what to do to fix it scared me to death. I mean, what’s the worst could happen if we decided to tell our boss what we were trying to do and this happened? Would we all lose our jobs? Whatever the consequence, I couldn’t afford to lose my job, especially over something illegal like this. This would be jail time.

  I sat there in the straddle carrier for another five minutes, waiting for Brian to bring that Asian dude back. Before he made it back to where I was, a set of headlights came from nowhere and beamed at me. I tried to partially cover my eyes so I could get a look at who was driving, but I couldn’t see through the lights. I sat there in sheer panic, not knowing whether to drive off or jump out of the straddle carrier and run until I couldn’t run anymore.

  “Please don’t let this be the fucking port police,” I mumbled as my heart rate sped up. “Come on, Reese, you gotta be calm and stay ahead of whoever is coming your way. Don’t let them get the best of you.” I continued to mumble to myself as I watched a large vehicle drive in my direction.

  It finally stopped about seventy-five feet away from me. I blinked my eyes to get a clearer look to see what kind of vehicle it was, but I had no luck. Then the door on the driver side opened, heightening my anticipation. The driver walked a few feet away from the vehicle and turned on his flashlight and pointed it at me. I shielded my eyes a little more and prayed that I wasn’t being approached by a fucking terminal cop. “Reese, is that you?” I heard a guy yell.

  I recognized the voice and squinted my eyes, hoping I could get a better look and that I was correct. I opened the door of the straddle carrier and yelled, “Who’s that?”

  “It’s me, Gene,” I heard him say.

  Boy, what a relief
it was to hear him say his name, because I swear, I knew I was about to be doing a lot of fucking explaining. And even worse, cause my wife a lot of embarrassment. She’d been working here for a long time, so I couldn’t screw things up for her. Not now. Not later.

  I stepped down out of the machine and greeted Gene by the rear right tire. “Where is Brian?” he asked me.

  “He ran behind one of the Asian guys, so now he’s on his way back here.”

  “How many of them got out?” Gene wanted to know.

  “Three of ’em. I caught one and Brian caught one and the other one got away.”

  “Edward is going to snap the fuck out when he hears that.”

  “I know. But that’s not all that happened.”

  “There’s more?”

  I nodded. “The guy that Brian caught started using karate on him. So Brian got tired of him and choked his ass out.”

  “Whatcha mean he choked him out?”

  “The guy is dead. Brian strangled his ass.”

  Gene’s mouth fell wide-open. “The guy is dead?”

  “Yep.”

  “Where is his body?”

  “Brian is bringing it back over here. He should be here any moment,” I explained.

  “What y’all gonna do with the body when he brings it back?”

  “We’re gonna try to put it back in the container.”

  “That’s gonna be hard to do.”

  “So, what do you suggest?”

  “Y’all may wanna just hide the body somewhere. Because it’s gonna be impossible to get the body inside the container without breaking the seal that has the twenty-digit number on it, unless we crawl on top of the container and push him back through that rusty opening where they have been escaping from.”

 

‹ Prev