Trafficked: a novel

by Sophia Rey

  But on Friday she replied as if she’d just received my text. “What’s up?”

  I was kind of tripping because she took so long to reply, but who knew what was going on between her and that step dad? I finally texted back, “I was wondering if you’d like to go get lunch or something.”

  “I don’t have any money, but I’d be up for a cup of coffee. I have some Starbucks gift cards if you can do that,” was the reply.

  “OK.” We made plans to meet at the Starbucks on the corner of Baker and Cline.

  Mom drove me over on the way to her second job at the 98 cent store. She was trying to take the pressure off of Dad, like we all were. Even Kai was doing his part by eating less expensive junk food and sometimes even eating fruit instead. Almost a miracle!

  We got there about 2:00. After we ordered our drinks and sat down, I asked her, “How have things been?”

  “I moved out,” she said with a nervous laugh.

  “Moved out!” I gasped, not doing a good job of hiding my surprise.

  She adjusted her tight shirt and started twirling her hair, avoiding my gaze. “I couldn’t take it anymore. The Toad – that’s what we call Mom’s boyfriend – was getting more and more aggressive, and Mom wouldn’t believe us. We had no proof. That was the problem. All The Toad did was come to my room in his boxers, according to Mom. She doesn’t think he did a thing to Maurine. We’re technically runaways, even though Mom knows where we are. Honestly, she couldn’t wait for us to leave. She’s pregnant with The Toad’s baby and he doesn’t want us around. When anyone asks, she just says we’re staying overnight somewhere.”

  “Where are you staying?”

  “The Herald Hotel. They don’t care who stays there as long as they get paid.”

  “Where are you getting money for that?” I couldn’t imagine moving out of my house, much less trying to pay for a hotel room.

  “Well, Mom helps us. She doesn’t want conflict between us and The Toad, but she still wants us to have someplace to live.”

  The look of shock on my face must have shown. I can’t hide my feelings. And it was horrible to think of a mother not wanting her kids around.

  Carol must have seen the look on my face, because she began to reassure me. “It’s not so bad. Maurine’s the only one I really care about. Mom doesn’t really care about us or she would have gotten rid of The Toad. I have nowhere else to go! Nowhere! You don’t know what it’s like to be practically homeless.”

  “No I don’t,” I admitted. I thought about how concerned Mom and Dad were about my relationship with Mason. How Dad even took me to Prescott and tried to distract me with fun activities. I couldn’t imagine my mom wanting to get rid of me and Kai because she wanted to spend time with some guy. “But how do you pay for everything else? Did you find another job? You said you had a gig of some kind, the last time we talked.”

  “It’s like the gig I had before, but more dependable. I’m what people call a sugar baby.”

  “Sugar baby?”

  “I go out with guys. They pay for everything and buy me great stuff like clothes and jewelry and all sorts of things. Then we go back to my hotel room or somewhere, and we do whatever they want as my way of saying thank–you.”

  There seemed to be no end to my being shocked during this conversation. “I just…what do you do with these guys?”

  “Whatever they want,” she repeated.

  “Anything?”

  “Yes. Anything.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I was shocked and I knew I looked shocked. I didn’t know Carol very well and I definitely didn’t like everything she did, but this was out there, even for her . . . and the way she was justifying it! It reminded some Dr. Bill show I’d seen. The girl he’d interviewed had called herself an “escort”. She said she figured she might as well get paid for having sex because she was going to do it, anyway.

  “What’s the difference between that and prostitution?” Dr. Bill had challenged her.

  “I don’t have sex for money,” she’d spat back. “I have sex because I like it and people give me what they want to.”

  No one could get through to her. Finally, at the end of the show, Dr. Bill had told her, “You don’t seem to be concerned about your health. No matter what your mom or your dad or your grandmother says you just do whatever you want. Well, let me tell you the facts. Girls like you have 40 times more chance of being raped than other girls.”

  It didn’t shock the girl into changing her like style, but maybe it would help Carol. I quoted the statistics to her.

  Unlike the girl on the Dr. Bill show, Carol broke into tears. She looked mortified.

  “I don’t know what to do! I just don’t know what to do!” she sobbed.

  “I have an idea,” I said. “It’s not a very good idea, but it’s better than you playing tricks with strange men. Why don’t you have your mom put you in foster care? She could tell the …the…whoever runs the foster care place…that she can’t take care of you. That there’s neglect or that The Toad is chasing after Maurine or something.”

  “I told you. She won’t narc on The Toad. And she won’t admit that she’s neglecting us.”

  “She sure is when she expects you and Maurine to live in a hotel and get some of your bills paid by having sex.”

  “She doesn’t know that I’m a sugar baby.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because she thinks I’m working at Fry’s.”

  “Why don’t you work at Fry’s?” I asked.

  “I’ll tell why not. They pay minimum wage. I’d have to work 10 times as much to make the money I’m making now. I’d spend all my time working and there’d be no time for anything else, much less taking care of Maurine. The gift card I’m using for this coffee came from one of my customers.”

  I didn’t know what to say, so I was silent for a minute. Finally, I asked her, “What’s the other gig you were doing before?”

  “I don’t wanna go into that.” She completely brushed me off, as if it were some kind of secret.

  I tried a different tactic. “There must be something else you could do. I dunno…maybe you could stay with us.” I knew as I said it that we couldn’t possibly afford to feed two more people. But there was part of me that just needed to do something for Carol and Maurine.

  “I don’t want to stay with you.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I don’t trust men.”

  “You don’t trust any men?”

  “No,” she stated firmly. “The Toad isn’t the first guy that had his eyes on me and Maurine. Sometimes I think they just dated Mom to get to us.”

  “And you told your mom about these guys…?”

  “I tell her and she doesn’t believe me. The Toad isn’t the only one who’s shown up in our bedroom wearing practically nothing.”

  “I can’t believe your mom’s that cold.”

  “Well, she is. I’ve never had anyone who cared about me and I’m not about to let Maurine grow up that way. I care about her, and if this is all I can do to keep her safe I’ll do it.”

  “But what about these men you’re letting into your hotel room? What about Maurine? Where is she when you bring these men into your room? I can’t imagine that’s very safe for her.”

  “Oh, that. I only bring men to my place during school hours. I never let them know I have a kid sister. I told you, I will do anything I have to to keep her safe.”

  Again, I didn’t know what to say. So I sat silent for another minute. Finally, I sighed and told her, “I’ll think of something.”

  “Go ahead.” Her voice was filled with annoyance and anger, but I heard sadness, too.

  “Well, I know I can do something. My dad’s a wonderful man. He’d never hurt you or Maurine. His job is taking care of trouble teens. You two would be very safe with him.”

  “There’s a part of me that believes you and a part of me that isn’t ready to. If you only knew what I’ve gone through you’d understand.”
r />   And yet you still let people do that to you? I thought.

  She saw the look and knew what I was thinking. “I have no commitment to these guys. I’m my own boss. I can quit at any time. But I won’t stop until I know Maurine is taken care of and we don’t have to worry anymore.”

  “I’ll talk to my parents as soon as I can.” I said goodbye then left to wait for Mom to get off her shift.

  CHAPTER 13

  THE SUNDAY BEFORE THANKSGIVING, Dad called us together and told us that he believed Kai and I were old enough to understand why he wouldn’t be home on Thanksgiving or Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. He said was looking forward to working on Christmas Day so he could get paid time–and–a–half. And we could have just as much fun celebrating the holidays the day after. I was a little disappointed, until he told us that we could go shopping at the after–holiday sales and make it a family tradition. That made it sound better, and when we had smiles on our faces, Dad’s face lit up. “It’s gonna be great,” he said. “You’ll see. It’s gonna be great!”

  Ironically, Dad seemed happy only when he was going to work. But he told Mom at least once a day that he hated it there because he was underemployed, upset that the other BHTs, who had no clue what they were doing, bossed him around, and he was mistreated because of company policies. They kept putting him in dangerous situations because they were cheap, Dad complained.

  “It’s only a matter of time before these kids figure out that they can do whatever they want,” I heard him tell Mom one night. “They’re really running the place. And here’s a perfect example. A few weeks ago the guys wanted to watch some survivor show about people who go around naked and try to survive in the wilderness for about a month. It’s a lame show for people who want to see bare butts. They were watching it when I came onto the unit, so I told them, ‘Change the channel. You’re not allowed to watch this.’ But the nurses, who have no clue what they’re doing, said they could watch it. So I had to watch eight episodes of Naked and Unafraid. I thought I’d die of boredom.”

  ************

  “Good night, Dad.” I gave him a kiss on the forehead as I headed to bed at 10 that Monday. I usually stayed up later but I had an early morning at the food pantry the next day. I wanted to talk with him about Carol and Maurine, but he had been especially quiet and it just never felt like a good time. I made a mental note to find time tomorrow to sit with him and Mom and see what they thought.

  “Goodnight pumpkin. Sorry I’m not in much of a mood for talking. I’m so tired.”

  I knew he was tired. But when I woke up to use the bathroom, I heard him still awake and talking to Mom. “Once in a while something good happens. Do you remember me talking about Daniel,” he was saying.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I told you. He’s a real punk, right? Constantly threatening the other boys; pounding on the doors and windows; stealing all the snacks; picking fights all the time.”

  “Yes, I remember him.” Mom was so supportive.

  “Well, last night he came to me and wanted me to open the laundry room for him. So I get up and open it and then he says to me ‘Will you go in to the nurses’ station for me and get me my special laundry detergent?’

  “I resisted at first. They’re always asking for something…running us ragged. ‘Get my lotion’…’I need my headphones’…’where are the snacks’. I thought he was yanking my chain.

  “’Do you really need special soap?’ I asked him.

  “‘Yeah,’ he told me, ‘I break out if I don’t get my special detergent.’ I looked at his face and saw that it was full of zits. He looked at me pleadingly. So, I got the detergent. He was so thankful! He thanked me over and over. I actually felt like we bonded tonight, and that maybe he isn’t quite the bad guy that he makes himself out to be.”

  “Sounds like you had a good day, like you feel you might be making a difference?” Mom ventured.

  Dad huffed. “I doubt that. One moment with one guy doesn’t change anything. I wish it did. It wasn’t two hours later that I heard two of the guys getting out tomorrow morning talking about what they were going to do once they got out.”

  “What do you mean?” Mom asked.

  “Remember when I told you about CJ awhile back? Their big moneymaking scheme taking naked pictures and then blackmailing girls?”

  “I remember.” I could almost see my mother shiver.

  “Well, CJ has been buddying up to a real piece of work who calls himself PimpDaddy since Carlos got released. Today I heard him tell CJ that they were ‘on for tomorrow’ and that he knew the ‘perfect girl’ for their new ‘goldmine’. CJ asked if she was going to give them any trouble, and PimpDaddy told him that it didn’t really matter, since there were two of them. ‘And besides,’ I heard him say, ‘all we have to do is slip her something and she’ll never know what hit her. All she’ll do is wake up in her new job and we walk 5K richer.’ It really sounds like they’re planning on kidnapping some girl and selling her to a pimp!”

  There were a couple of minutes where I only heard muffled sounds of crying. Dad’s going to have a nervous breakdown, I thought. He really needs a new job.

  Eventually I heard Dad tell Mom, “I called the cops and explained what I heard. I think they’re tired of hearing from me because they seemed pretty dismissive. But if somebody doesn’t do something, some girl is going to really get hurt.”

  “But what can anyone do? I’m sure the cops will watch them.”

  “And what if they don’t?” I heard Dad get up from the couch and walk across the room. His footsteps were always heavy on the floor. There was a pause again before I heard him again. “I’m sure you’re right, Donna. Someone will do something to save her.”

  I didn’t know why, but as I heard that, shivers ran up my arms and down my legs.

  CHAPTER 14

  THE NEXT AFTERNOON, MOM got a phone call telling her that Dad was in the hospital. He’d been shot and they didn’t know if he was going to survive. His skull had been pierced by a bullet and his brain was bleeding, what they called a subdural hematoma.

  “What happened?” Mom demanded of the policemen waiting for us at the hospital.

  “Ma’am, do you know where your husband was this afternoon?” It was the tall officer that spoke. The shorter officer led Mom by the arm gently and helped her sit down, asking if he could get her anything to drink. Mom looked like she was in a daze as she took the water bottle with a shaky hand.

  “Um…” I could tell she was trying to shake the memories back into place as she spoke. “He told me last night that he needed to help someone. How would helping someone get him shot? What happened?”

  It seemed that the tall officer was the one who did most of the official talking. He wrote something down in a small notebook, then turned to Mom. “A witness saw him intervening between two male suspects and a young woman they were allegedly trying to victimize. We were able to save the girl and apprehend the suspects, thanks to the actions of your husband. He’s a hero, ma’am.”

  They let us see Dad a little bit later, after he got out of surgery. It was scary seeing him connected to all these tubes and wires, like some otherworldly creature. The doctors had put an emergency shunt in his skull to help the blood drain, and his head was so covered by bandages and wires that we could barely see his face…what wasn’t swollen beyond recognition. We stayed with him for hours. The hospital staff tried to ask Mom questions, but I could tell she was in shock and not processing things well. At two a.m. I suggested to her that maybe we should go home and feed Kai, maybe get some sleep.

  It was a few days before we knew if Dad was going to make it. He laid there in the hospital bed for days in a coma. The doctor kept telling us that if they could get everything under control in his brain then he stood a chance. Dad went through three more surgeries over the next week. I wasn’t really sure what the surgeries were for, but in the end I was glad for them because Doctor Foster, the surgeon who had been taking care of Dad, told us
it looked like he was going to pull through. They weren’t sure yet about brain damage or motor control issues, but Dad was going to live.

  Once Mom could think and process a little bit, the hospital staff started pestering her for insurance information and medical histories and all that stuff. While she was filling out forms, she asked me to go to the car and look in the glove compartment for information she thought she’d stashed there a few weeks ago. I went out and searched, but as I opened the glove compartment, a piece of paper fell out. I picked it up and looked at it; it had Dad’s handwriting on it. As I read, I got sad, then mad, then scared, then horrified. I’d never felt so many emotions at once.

  Dear Donna,

  I’m so sorry. You’re the best wife I could ever have. I don’t deserve you. If you’re reading this, I’ve gone on before you. I’m writing this to you because I want you to know what’s been going through my head. Please don’t let the children read this. I don’t want them to know what a loser their dad is.

  I’ve been hoping for months that something would happen to me that would kill me. I prayed the Lord would just take me home. A wrong way drivers on the freeway, or a freak accident. I kept hoping one of these things would happen to me, but nothing did.

  I just can’t see the point in going on. I can’t find a decent job and never will. You don’t know this, but I hired someone to help me find a job. A head hunter. It was a waste of time. They basically stole my $500.00 just to tell me that I wasn’t going to find anything better than I already have.

  Don’t worry, I’ve made sure you’re taken care of. A while back I invested in a life insurance policy worth $1.5 million. That will take care of you and you can even go back to school like you’ve always wanted.

  Life is torture for me. I get up in the morning and I don’t know how I’m going to make it through the day. I hate my job. I hate looking for jobs. I feel useless. I haven’t had an interview in a month. I stopped applying after the head hunter. The only jobs open are ones like I have at The Gardens or ones that pay minimum wage. That’s another thing that the worthless job hunting agency helped me to find out.