Trafficked: a novel

by Sophia Rey

  And now he couldn’t seem to find time for me. Not only did he not come, he didn’t even reschedule. I had to ask him if he could get together the following week. He’d said yes, but I didn’t trust him completely.

  CHAPTER 10

  NOW THAT DAD WAS back at Gardens temporarily his conversations with the kids got even more interesting.

  “They don’t even know that I’m in the room,” he started over dinner one night. “They talk about the worst stuff, like they don’t care who’s listening. Probably ‘cause they know they’ll never get in trouble.” He huffed. “For instance, here’s a conversation I heard today. CJ and Carlos were talking and CJ says, ‘Whatchya doin’ when you get out of here, man?’

  “’Work at my uncle’s car wash because that’s all the hell I can get. You know what it’s like, man. I got a record. Hard to get a job with that. My friend Joe looked for eight months when he got out ‘cause he don’t got no connections.’

  “’Well, I found something way better than the car wash,’ CJ tells Carlos. ‘But you gotta promise to keep it secret. I don’t need everyone hearing about this gig.’

  “’What is it?’ Carlos thinks he’s being quiet, but he’s not. The TV’s on and some boys are playing cards, so it’s noisy in the room. But I could hear every word. And they didn’t even notice I was there – it’s like I’m furniture or something. Anyway, Carlos is super interested in what CJ is saying, and I’m pretty sure that it’s nothing good, so I pay close attention.

  “CJ amps up his buddy–buddy act and tells Carlos, “Man, I’ve got a few deals going. I got a rap, too, you know. Cops got me for possession a while back, so I can’t just walk into McDonalds and get a job. Me and my brother got an operation we call, ‘Make your girlfriend your paycheck.’

  “’I like the sound of that.’ It was obvious Carlos was into it.

  “So CJ tells Carlos. ‘Here’s what you do. You convince some girl to be your girlfriend. Takes maybe a couple weeks. You get her to send you some nude pics, or let you take some. Once you get the pics on your phone, you tell her you’re gonna send them to everyone you know unless she pays you. You do this to two or three girls and you’re set.’

  “‘Most of the girls I know won’t fall for that,’ Carlos tells him.

  “’Yeah, but lots of girls do,’ he counters. ‘If I can’t get one of my current girlfriends or baby mamas to cooperate, I shell out a few bucks to get girls to model for me. I take the girls to my “studio” – I just set up my brother’s old room with a big shop light and use when my Ma’s at work. Then I take a few pictures before I convince them to take off their clothes for a few more. Before they know it, they’re shelling out plenty to keep me from posting ‘em.’”

  Dad was exuberant. “I called the police department after work and told them about the conversation. They’re going to look into it. When I told them their release dates, they said that they’re going to watch for them so they can find evidence to charge them with. Should be easy to get some young looking detective to pretend she’s out on the streets looking for money. They’ll be nailed before they know it.”

  “Good! I’m so proud of you!” Mom gave him a big hug.

  “And this is the EXCITING news. They were so impressed with my willingness to help the SVU that they may want to hire me.”

  “I thought that position with the SVU was taken,” said Mom.

  “It was, but the incidents of sex crimes, and especially internet sex crimes, have gone up so much that they might need another person, especially someone who can see the business from the perpetrator’s point of view. I have an advantage there since I’ve worked so long at Gardens.”

  ************

  I don’t know why, but the conversation reminded me of the photos Mason took of me. I was fully clothed, but what Dad said made me feel weird. How easy would it be for a girl like me to be tricked into something like that? What if Mason asked me for naked pictures? I dismissed the thought. Yes, I was mad at him, but did I really think he’d do that? Besides, I needed to think about other things, like getting a job and keeping my grades up.

  Mason and I met for coffee a couple days later. “What’s up?” he spoke, as we started up our conversation.

  “Nada,” I said, unconsciously practicing the Spanish I was learning at school.

  “It’s not nothing. Say something. It’s like you’re in Dreamland.”

  “Oh, Mason,” I sighed. “I’ve missed you so much. I hardly ever see you, and when I do you’re so . . . out there.”

  “Out there?” he asked.

  “You know. Like you’re thinking of something else.”

  “Sorry.” We sat in silence for a couple seconds. Tears started sliding down my cheek. Mason reached for my hand. “What’s wrong, Baby?”

  “I feel like I’m losing you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know. You hardly ever text me. You don’t show up places. I think you don’t want to see me very much.” I could barely get the words out.

  The tears fairly rained from my eyes. Mason sat in silence for a moment, looking at his hands. Slowly, as if measuring his words, he began to speak. “I didn’t want to tell you this….” He paused. Oh no, I thought. Here it comes. “But I just…I haven’t felt the same. I don’t know what to do…I just…I don’t know what to do.” My world felt like it was caving in. So there it was. He didn’t feel the same way about me. Mason paid the coffee shop bill, told me goodbye, and kissed me on the forehead, telling me he would text me soon. Then he was gone.

  After that I didn’t see him for a whole month. And he didn’t call or text either. Nothing! I felt almost desperate to talk with him, and it took everything in me not to contact him. The less he wanted to talk with me, the more I seemed to think only about him and want to be with him.

  To distract myself, I decided to text some of my other friends. To be truthful, my other friendships were almost nonexistent. Between the time I’d devoted to Mason, work, and homework I’d pretty much isolated myself from them. Some of the friends I texted responded, and that made things a little better. But Junie had apparently fallen off the face of the Earth. When I couldn’t reach her by text, I tried asking some other people at my last school if they’d seen her. Someone said they’d seen her in the hallway a couple of weeks ago, but that was all. I even sneaked onto Facebook when Mom wasn’t looking to see if she had posted anything. Mom had recently read some report about how teens who’ve used Facebook a lot become depressed so she’d been stricter than normal about allowing me to use it. Junie was off the grid. And the more I tried to contact her and couldn’t, the more concerned I became. So, I sneaked on Facebook.

  It might seem odd to some people that I would feel like I was sneaking around behind my Mom’s back, but that’s how some people with any form of autism are. We take things literally; we’re rule followers. When Mom said no to me about the computer and stuff like Facebook it meant NO. But even with my “reckless” behavior, I couldn’t reach my best friend. And since she lived over an hour away, it didn’t seem like I was going to find her anytime soon.

  The only bright side of my concern for Junie is that it took my mind off Mason, if only for a little while. School ended for the year. Life moved on, for the most part, but I felt like life had stopped and I was in limbo, waiting for a call or a text from Mason; wondering if he’d ever talk to me again.

  CHAPTER 11

  DAD HAD BEEN IN a pretty decent mood lately. He was very busy, still working at Gardens and attempting to look for other work. But he had the presence of mind to see that I was upset. It wasn’t too hard for him to see. I grouched around the house like an evil wind, going from room to room, putting a few things away, then storming to my room and turning on music while I sat and brooded.

  I hated being in the house. It reminded me of how much I missed being with Mason. I wanted to get out of my own skin! After a few weeks of this, Dad called us all together and suggested we take a trip to Prescott, a
mountain town two–and–a–half hours outside of Phoenix. He said that we all needed a chance to get out of the heat; even though it would still be warm on that 4th of July weekend – 95° – it would be a lot nicer than the 115° at home.

  Mom’s friend had given us tickets to the rodeo. I’d never gone to one, and it was such a different environment – people cheering cowboys and being overtly patriotic. I had as much fun as I could have, trying not to think about Mason and wishing he would at least text me!

  We also went kayaking on a lake up there and I really liked that. I always like to get out on a lake or in nature when I’m down and I think Dad knew I needed to get out. We spent the entire day on the lake, laughing like we used to do back before moving to Mesquite.

  That night around the campfire, I tried to explain what I was going through to Mom. “I just needed someone who I could get to know and who could get to know me and still love me,” I told her. “I thought Mason was that person. He seemed so interested in me.”

  “Maybe there’s something he’s not telling you about the car accident. Maybe it’s affected him in some way that he doesn’t want to talk about,” she ventured.

  “No. I don’t think that’s it. I was there when the doctor told him about what was going on and what was in store for him. He told Mason that all he would have to do was go to physical therapy for a few weeks after the surgery. He didn’t say anything about how the accident would affect his brain or anything like that.” I looked down, avoiding her gaze. I didn’t want say what I really thought, which was that Mason seemed be taking himself out of the picture.

  “Well, Sweetie, if you aren’t happy, maybe this isn’t a good relationship for you.”

  I knew she was trying to help, but saying that made me angry. “I thought you’d understand, Mom. But you have no idea. I’m going to bed.” I stormed off to the tent to cry myself to sleep again.

  The week in Prescott went by and I tried to enjoy myself. There were moments where I was carefree and happy, but mostly I descended into my anxiousness about Mason. What was going on? Was he dumping me just because we didn’t see each other as often? Maybe it WAS kind of unusual for us to spend so much time together, like we did when he was going to PT. It must be my fault. I must have smothered him during his therapy. He told he didn’t feel the same. Did that mean he just needed a break from me for a while? Maybe if I just avoided HIM for a while he’d see what he was missing and change his mind.

  Back home after our trip, I had nothing else to do but think and stew and worry. I’d given up trying to contact Junie for a bit, since nothing seemed to reach her, or she’d decided to not reply; and Amy was super busy with cheerleading and work so she wasn’t answering, either. So, all I had left to think about was Mason. Every day I hoped he’d text, and finally, six weeks after our coffee shop meeting, he did, casually asking if we could go out for dinner the next Friday. Of course I said yes!

  Friday finally rolled around and things went well until the waitress brought us our food. It was then, in the middle of my bite of spaghetti, that Mason casually mentioned that he was going to go visit his dad for six weeks.

  Six weeks! I thought to myself. That’s the rest of summer! I tried to hide my disappointment, but I’m not too good at doing that and I knew he could tell how I felt. “What’s wrong?” he asked, as if it didn’t bother him that we’d be apart for two months.

  “What about work?” I asked him. It seemed odd to me that a grown man could just take off work for six weeks at a time.

  “Oh, Jon doesn’t mind if I take off. He says he doesn’t sell many cars in the summer, anyway. People don’t like to come and walk on the hot parking lot in the dead of summer.”

  I was stunned. I was even more stunned when he said not to expect him to contact me while he was gone. No texts. No calls. I began to think there was something wrong with me. Why would someone start a relationship with me to just, basically, leave me?

  I decided to take racquetball lessons and volunteer at the Manna Food Pantry to keep busy while Mason was gone. But that didn’t stop me from looking at my phone every time I got off a shift at the food pantry or at my new job at The Home Depot.

  As the weeks passed I missed Mason more and more. I turned the notification volume off so I wouldn’t know if he texted me or not. I played little games with myself. I would say to myself, I won’t check my texts for two hours. If he hasn’t text me I won’t look at my phone for 4 hours. If he hasn’t text me by then I won’t look for eight hours. Then 16 hours.

  Sometimes I’d get up the nerve to text him and ask about his health. It had been so much easier to text him at the beginning of our relationship. Then, he was so friendly, and so kind to me. Back then, he’d text me and talk about what a great time he’d had when we’d gone to the movies or whatever else we’d done; and we’d joke with each other about little things that happened when we were out. Now that he was visiting his dad, he kept me at a distance. I was almost afraid to text. He wouldn’t get back to me for hours, or even days. When my phone buzzed, I always hoped that it was him, but it rarely was.

  One afternoon, I was out on the patio reading when Kai came to me and told me that someone had texted me. I actually got mad because I was finally in a peaceful place; I didn’t want to be reminded that I was always waiting for Mason to text. I yanked the phone from Kai’s hand and looked to see who it was.

  It wasn’t him.

  It was Jill, from color guard, asking if I wanted to come to a party Saturday night. It was a kind of kick–off for the cheerleaders, the color guard people, and the band members. I said to Kai, “Don’t bug me when I’m reading,” or some stupid thing.

  It was then that I knew I was changing. Even an invitation to something that I would have jumped at a year ago didn’t excite me. All I wanted was to be with Mason. I would have done just about anything to have him back in Mesquite with me.

  And I think he knew that.

  Eight awful weeks went by. Mason texted me a few times. We celebrated his birthday over the phone. He lit a candle and blew it out and, at long last, said he missed me.

  Finally, summer ended. I was just finishing my shift at the food pantry when I heard my phone buzz with a text from Mason. It said that he was coming back in a few days and he couldn’t wait to see me . . . and that he loved me! This made me so happy I could hardly contain myself. I was practically dancing through the boxes of donated food while I unloaded flats of peanut butter and soup to be used the next day. I waited to text him because I didn’t want to seem desperate. And part of me was angry that he could cut me off for so long and then pull me right back in with one text. I remembered how I’d gone past places we’d been together as a I drove through town with Mom, to the grocery store or whatever. I’d see a restaurant Mason and I had been to, or a movie theater, or a park and I’d think, I guess it’s over. I thought it really was.

  Now he said that he actually loved me, I was out of my mind excited.

  When Mason returned, we went to Francisco’s and officially celebrated his birthday. Inwardly, I sighed with relief. Things were getting back to normal.

  But they weren’t.

  For two weeks we spent almost every afternoon or evening together. But then one day right after school started, his boss called him in to power–wash the cars for the big autumn selling rush. I guess people buy a lot of cars in the fall. So I didn’t see him for a couple weeks.

  Then he decided to move. He said he didn’t like some of his roommates. That took another two weeks.

  The next weekend, he had to go to one of his friend’s homecoming parties. He said he didn’t want to bring me along because there’d be a lot of drinking and I’d feel left out. All these things he just had to do kept popping up. It was worse than when he visited his dad in the summer. At least then I’d known summer would eventually end. I felt worthless, angry, and confused.

  Finally, the first part of October rolled around, and with it, Fall Break. Mason was in a great mood because
he’d sold a lot of cars. He said people were buying them early as Christmas presents. I couldn’t believe it. How could anyone afford to buy a new car as a present? But apparently somebody could because he’d sold 11 cars in just a few weeks. Mason was ecstatic, and we celebrated his good fortune by going to a Sam Smith concert. For about six more weeks he was selling cars like hot cakes. He told me his uncle said it was very unusual because most of the time people like to wait until after Thanksgiving to buy cars for Christmas because they’re spending their cash on traveling to see family. But I guess somebody had some money because Mason sold 13 more high–end cars. For those six weeks we went out every weekend. It was like old times! Mason was kind and considerate like he used to be. I wished it could go on forever.

  But it didn’t.

  By the middle of November, Mason wouldn’t return my calls or texts. Again. No explanation, nothing. I felt like a yo-yo being jerked up and down, up and down and I hated it. I was miserable and lonely and all I could think about was Mason yet again, like he was a drug or something.

  CHAPTER 12

  T

  HE DAYS WENT BY as usual…long and alone. The week before Thanksgiving, Mom suggested I try calling a friend. “Why don’t you call that Carol?” I wasn’t too sure about it, because she’d been so emotional when I saw her at the restaurant months before, but I felt kind of sorry for her and thought maybe I should at least try to find out what was going on. So, I texted her on Monday. By the time Thursday rolled around and she hadn’t called I thought, Oh well. That’s that. I tried.