Spirit Me Away

by Aaron Paul Lazar

  I heard a refrigerator open, footsteps walk across the room, and the distinct sound of ice cubes cracking out of a metal tray. Water ran. Glasses clinked. I figured the kitchen sink was directly over our heads, just inside the window.

  I leaned against the peeling clapboards and held my breath, listening to someone drop ice cubes into glasses, and to the sound of liquid pouring over them.

  “I told you twenty thousand, Ike. Not a penny less.” Jarvis’s voice came through loud and clear, but his accent had changed. No more low-class grammar. And his manner was a far cry from the saucy, playful ways he faked when he stole Valerie from us.

  A gruff voice responded. “You don’t set the price, Jarvis.”

  I figured Ike was the guy in the suit who’d been chauffeured by the gorilla man.

  Ike continued. “Last time we gave you fifteen thou for that redhead. She was a pain in the butt. It took me weeks to break her. Finally, I sold her to a guy in Japan, and she went and killed herself after two friggin’ days. I had to refund his money. So, the way I see it, you owe me. You need to cut me a deal on this one.”

  Oh my God. Is Jarvis trying to sell Valerie?

  “What’s going on?” Valerie said, sounding confused and scared.

  “Shaddup,” Jarvis yelled. The crack of a hand on flesh followed.

  I tensed, wanting to jump up and save her right on the spot, but Porter held up a finger. “Not yet,” he whispered.

  The echo of muted crying came from deeper inside the house, and it was all I could do not to burst inside like a heroic madman and do a superman act on these thugs.

  Sure. With my bulging muscles, bullet-proof suit, and my superpowers.

  Right.

  Another muffled scream came from Valerie.

  Porter held me down. “Wait,” he mouthed silently. He held my arms and his eyes bored into mine. “Let’s do this right.”

  I knew he had a point; it was likely the men inside wouldn’t hesitate to drill us full of holes if we got in their way.

  Porter took a deep breath, and motioned for me to stay put, pointing back and forth between himself and the road. I nodded, not totally sure of his next move, but I trusted him.

  Porter ran around the side of the house bent over low, then waited a second at the corner, finally bolting for the road. I crept toward the corner and watched him shove his knife into all four tires of the black sedan.

  The tires quickly deflated and the car settled like a wounded rhinoceros atop the cracked tarmac.

  I’d seen that knife before; it was a relic from Porter’s time in the war. He wore it on his belt every day. I morbidly wondered how he used it in ’Nam, and then shook the grisly thoughts from my mind.

  He dashed back and joined me in our position beneath the window.

  The argument inside seemed to be gaining strength.

  Ike said, “Listen, Jarvis. All I can give you this time is fifteen. Take it, or leave it.”

  Jarvis sputtered back at him. “Look at her, Ike. She’s premium. If I’d seen her before I picked her up, I would’ve doubled the price. Doubled it, I’m telling you.”

  Valerie screamed from deep within the house. “NO! Help!”

  Ike roared, “Goddamn it, Nate. Don’t mess with the merchandise. We need her pristine for the sale. Now, keep your grubby hands off her, and shut her up.”

  My insides clenched. Porter’s hand gripped my arm tightly while Valerie’s muffled screams could be heard and Nate—the guy I assumed was the ape-man/chauffer—slammed a door, muting the sound of her cries.

  Porter and I scrambled around the side of the house toward the sound of her cries. We chanced a look inside. Tattered curtains blew in and out of the screen-free window.

  My blood froze when I glanced toward the bed. Duct tape plastered Valerie’s mouth and secured her wrists.

  Nate stood beside the bed, gazing at the amber-stoned ring he’d stolen from her finger, twirling it in the light and squinting at it.

  He kissed the ring, slipped it onto his pinky finger, and turned to her with a broad grin.

  Valerie sat back on the bed, her knees pulled up to her chin and her denim jumper yanked tight around her ankles, covering her like a tent.

  With a lusty chuckle, Nate approached her, leering down at her. “Pretty hair,” he said in a guttural voice. He leaned down and ran his stubby fingers through it, then reached for the hem of her jumper and slowly lifted it over her knees and up to her thighs.

  Valerie flinched and tried to push his hands away.

  Nate lifted her dress up to her waist, and unfastened his trousers, letting them drop to the ground.

  She tried to roll away from him, but he caught her, pinned her in place, and lowered his boxers with his free hand.

  It’s time to move. Now.

  Porter must have agreed with my urgent thoughts, because he climbed in the window, taking the lead. He flew at Nate, who fumbled and tripped because his pants had fallen around his ankles.

  With a shout that sounded like a war cry, Porter wrapped one arm around his neck, and squeezed the life out of the man. Seconds later, Porter dragged the body to the far side of the bed, where he’d be temporarily hidden from the other men when they came into the bedroom. Which I knew they would, since they must’ve heard that cry from Porter.

  I raced toward Valerie and peeled the tape from her mouth.

  Her eyes filled with scalding tears, and in seconds, she collapsed against me, sobbing.

  I helped her stand up. “Come on, let’s go.”

  “Gus is right.” Porter used his knife to free her hands and pulled us toward the window. “We’ve gotta get her out of here,” he whispered urgently. “Now.”

  “My ring!” she cried, pointing to Nate’s finger.

  With a shudder, I leaned down and pulled it off the dead man’s hand. She accepted it with a grateful smile and slipped it back on.

  The yelling in the next room grew louder, followed by a thump and a crash. The sound of someone smashing against the wall was followed by a booming curse.

  It appeared Jarvis and Ike were in the middle of a rollicking fistfight.

  “Right. Let’s go,” I said.

  Although I knew we had to get the hell out of there, in the back of my mind I worried about Jarvis. If we left him here, alive and well, he might come back for Valerie.

  Or for Porter and me.

  Or Elsbeth.

  A shiver ran through me.

  But if I called the cops now, I wouldn’t know where to tell them to go. “A yellow house on James Street in...” What the hell town were we in? I had no idea.

  We gathered Valerie between us and hurried toward the window, stopping short when a shot was fired in the next room, followed by heavy footsteps stampeding in our direction.

  Porter went into action, pushing Valerie onto the bed again. “Lie down. Don’t give us away.”

  Shoving me onto the gritty floor next to Nate’s body, he hid behind the door.

  With a shudder, I looked directly into the face of the monkey-man. Bile rose in my throat. Backing away, I wormed my way to the bottom of the bed, preparing to rush the guy when he entered.

  The door crashed open, and there stood Ike, breathing hard, with blood spatter on his white shirt. I wondered how badly he’d injured Jarvis, and if the shot had hit him.

  Ike stood in the doorway, blood running from his temple. He dabbed at it with a handkerchief. “Where the hell is Nate?” he bellowed.

  Valerie began to sob. “He left,” she said, pointing a shaky finger. “Out the window.”

  “What the...” Ike didn’t finish his sentence.

  Although I lunged toward Ike, Porter beat me to him and jumped the man in a rapid blur, running his knife across Ike’s throat.

  A soft gurgle came from the wound, and he slumped to the floor. I watched in horrified fascination as Porter wiped the blade of the knife against the pink bedspread and re-sheathed it.

  A river of blood trickled across the lino
leum and began to pool at Porter’s feet.

  Valerie’s eyes shot open, her mouth worked, and the color drained from her face. I thought she’d scream. Instead, her eyes fluttered into her head and she passed out.

  Chapter 20

  Porter gathered Valerie into his arms, speaking soothing words to her.

  I shook off the willies crawling inside me after having witnessed two deaths in two minutes, and stepped through the doorway into the living room.

  Make that three deaths.

  Jarvis lay sprawled on the floor by the couch. The bullet had entered through his left temple and made a mess of the back of his head. His eyes stared, unseeing, toward the ceiling fan turning lazily above him.

  Thunder rumbled softly in the distance. I stared at the puddle of blood beneath Jarvis; it had spread into a big ragged circle on a grimy shag rug.

  Porter called softly to me. “Gus? Come on.”

  I backed into the bedroom and headed for the telephone. “He’s dead. Bullet to the head.” I picked up the receiver and dialed “O” for the operator.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Porter said.

  “Calling the cops.”

  “Put it down, Gus.”

  I gently lowered the receiver to the cradle. “Porter? What the hell?”

  “Look around you,” he said darkly. “I’ve just killed two men. We broke into this house through an open window. It looks really bad for us.”

  I considered what he said. “Yeah, but we’ve got Valerie as a witness. She could testify to what really happened. We rescued her, for God’s sake.”

  “Valerie can’t remember squat. They’d completely discredit her in court.” He gestured toward the girl, who opened her bleary eyes in muddled surprise, then closed them again. “Sorry, Valerie. But it’s true.” He started to pace the room, avoiding the red pool of blood still leaking from Ike. “Listen. I’ve got a past. Not a criminal record, but I killed over two hundred people in ’Nam. And when you consider that whole period of time I went crazy, after the fiasco in the village near Da Nang...They’d charge me, and put me away.”

  The curtains in the window gusted inward, their frayed hems undulating in the breeze. I stood silently by the phone, thinking it over. It went against my instincts.

  We shouldn’t leave the scene of the crime.

  I hadn’t heard about Da Nang, or the horrible events that took place in the village. Rumor was that Porter was hospitalized when he came home from the war, but I wasn’t sure if it was for physical or mental injuries.

  I looked into his pleading eyes and weakened.

  “Besides,” he said. “There could be more of these guys. If this run-down neighborhood is where they do their exchanges, well, more guys could be on their way here. Any second now. Valerie could be in danger again. And if they see you, it could put you and Elsbeth in the same position.”

  He shook my shoulders when I didn’t answer. “Geez, Gus. Listen to me. They’re ruthless. It’s gotta be a huge operation. They were shipping girls to Japan, for God’s sake.” He wiped the sweat from his brow with his shirtsleeve. “This is bigger than us. Maybe we can call the cops when we get Valerie to safety.”

  Outside, the sky darkened and thunder rolled in the distance. Valerie lay limp on the bed, and it looked as if she’d fallen back into a faint again. He sat beside her and looked at me again, his eyes begging me to agree.

  Realizing he was right, I felt a sudden urge to go. “Let’s get her out of here, and then we can figure out who to tell what.”

  I climbed out the window and held my arms up for Valerie. He lowered her gently, feet first, into my arms. Porter jumped down onto the weeds and immediately took her from me.

  A loud clap of thunder broke above us. Rain pelted the dusty ground. Once again, the immediate neighborhood was strangely quiet. Fortunately, no concerned old ladies stood at their windows and no children gawked from their backyards.

  The Heavens opened and a deluge streamed warm, heavy sheets of water onto our skin, hair, and clothes. In seconds, we were soaked.

  “Valerie?” I feverishly whispered Valerie’s name, brushing wet curls from her forehead. She needed to wake up and walk on her own, otherwise we’d attract too much attention. “Valerie, honey? Can you wake up?”

  She moaned, and her eyes finally opened. “Huh?” she whimpered.

  Porter lowered her gently to the ground. She hugged both of us and looked nervously at the house. “Are they all dead?”

  We held the girl between us, trying to steady her.

  “Yeah. They won’t hurt you anymore,” I said.

  The storm raged and clouds billowed overhead, and soon the sky darkened even more to a deep, inky gray.

  I glanced at my watch. Incredibly, it was still early, only ten past six. My stomach grumbled, surprising me. How could I feel hunger after what we’d just been through? The most chilling aspect of the whole scene, aside from the immediacy of the violence, was the smoothness with which my friend had dispatched our enemies. Don’t get me wrong, I was grateful for his skill and courage. But it was still hard to watch.

  Porter looked into the distance, tilting his head as if he were listening to the thunder booming. Lightning crackled and I saw it spark off a distant church steeple.

  “I lost my helmet,” he shouted against the wind.

  “What?” I said, struggling against the gusts of rain.

  “My helmet. It’s gone.” He started to search the ground with his hands, scrambling over the lawn behind the house.

  Valerie and I exchanged worried glances. She ran to him and touched his shoulders. “Porter? Honey? Come on. I know the way back. We can get you another helmet when we get home.”

  He straightened and looked up at her with confusion in his eyes. “What are you doing here?” His expression turned from harried angst to a worshipful gaze. With lips moving in a silent prayer, he gazed longingly at her. “You have to leave, Mae. It’s not safe here.”

  Valerie glanced at me, and then framed his face with her hands. “I’m here to help you, Porter. C’mon. Let’s get out of here.”

  He nodded and lowered his head. “Okay,” he said, like a meek child following his mother.

  We each took one of his arms, steering him forward and moving stealthily to the corner of the house.

  A second black sedan pulled into the driveway. My heart began to pound beneath my ribs.

  Porter was right. There are more of them.

  The driver got out and trotted over to the abandoned vehicle. He examined the tires and shouted in the direction of his car, arms waving. Two men burst from the car and ran toward the house. I knew Porter had incapacitated the car to prevent Ike and company from taking off with Valerie. He hadn’t expected it would rile up the rest of Ike’s buddies.

  I grabbed Valerie and Porter and pulled them through the back yard toward the houses sitting behind a thin row of shrubs. Valerie responded quickly, dragging Porter behind her. We dashed toward the streets parallel to James St., ducking in and out of short hedges and between tightly clustered homes. When we reached the fourth street over, we stopped and gasped for breath, leaning against the outside walls of a corner grocery store with our clothes drenched and dripping.

  I noted with relief that there were people on these streets, and cars that rolled slowly past. Safety in numbers.

  The blood smearing Porter’s right hand and arm had been washed away by the rain. Except for a lost expression in his eyes, he looked harmless. There was redness around Valerie’s mouth where the duct tape abraded some of her tender skin. Aside from that, she looked like a drowned flower child. There was nothing about them to imply we’d just had a run-in with white slavers, or that Porter had squeezed the life out of the simian-like man who was about to rape her, or that he’d sliced the jugular of the man in the suit.

  Forcing myself to relax, I herded them toward the store entrance. “Stand under the roof here. It’s dryer. I’ll go inside and get directions. It’s best if nobod
y sees him in this state,” I said, gesturing to Porter. “They might ask too many questions.”

  Valerie nodded and rubbed Porter’s back.

  He looked nervously up and down the street. “Charlie’s coming. Just over the hill.”

  I grabbed his shoulders and locked eyes with him. “Porter. You’re home now. You’re not at war. You’re home. Everything’s gonna be okay, my friend. Just stay put. Stay with Valerie. Okay?”

  His eyes flickered for a moment, and then he lowered them as if in defeat. “I’ll be fine. Just do what you have to do.”

  I walked into the store and picked up a bag of peanuts with three bottles of apple juice. When I paid for the snacks, I asked for directions to the subway. The wrinkled man behind the counter spewed them out as if it were an everyday event. He didn’t raise his eyes to mine, but stared down at the items he was ringing up.

  “Left out the door. Six blocks. Take a right at the white church. Keep going straight. Can’t miss the station.”

  I thanked him and rejoined my friends. We followed his directions, downing the peanuts and juice fast, and within twenty minutes we’d reached the church. “Turn right here,” I said.

  Valerie spotted it first. “There it is.”

  Porter hadn’t said a word, just walked along, obediently eating and drinking. When we reached the subway, I bought some tokens and we boarded the train back to the city, choosing a seat in the back, so no one could hear us.

  “Porter?” Valerie asked sweetly, “Are you okay now?”

  With glazed eyes, he stared at her. “Huh?” He shook his head, and looked out at the dark walls rushing past us. “Oh. Sorry about that. It happens once in a while.”

  Compassion welled in her eyes. “It’s okay. We’re here for you.”

  I reached over and squeezed his arm. “You saved the day back there, buddy. That bastard was almost on top of Valerie when you took care of him.”

  “Is that what we call it now,” he said with a wry smile. “I took care of him?”

  We both looked at him solemnly. I’d never killed a man, so I couldn’t imagine how it felt the first time, or the two hundred and second time. “Well, you saved her. That’s for sure.”