by Brady Hammes
“Yes. It appears this way.”
“Do you have his number in here?” Gavin asked, scrolling through the phone. When there was no response, he looked up and noticed two men exit from the passenger side of the truck. “Oh, hey,” he said, surprised.
“These are my friends,” the man said.
The men approached. Gavin extended his hand to shake, but was greeted instead with a fist to the face. His knees buckled and he fell to the ground. Someone lodged a knee into his shoulder, then his arms were drawn behind him and tied with a length of rope. His mouth tasted like dirt and blood, and he felt a hole where a tooth should be. He tried to ask what he’d done to deserve this, but his mouth wouldn’t make the words, and the men were speaking quickly to one another in a language he didn’t understand. He lifted his head to get a look at his assailants, but someone didn’t like that idea and slammed it back to the ground, grinding his face into the dirt. Next thing he knew, a blindfold was wrapped around his eyes and he felt himself being lifted off the ground and rolled into the bed of a pickup truck, where he lay coughing and smarting as the gate slammed shut. Seconds later, the truck jolted to life and began rattling down the road.
* * *
—
SOME TIME LATER, he was pulled from the back of the truck and taken to a windowless room furnished with lion pelts and ivory tusks and a dozen hollow-eyed gorilla skulls. His face and body ached from the beating he’d received from men who, it turned out, were not Jonah’s colleagues after all. The blindfold had been removed and his hands were now free. He stood slowly, touching the lump on his head, which he imagined was purple and bulbous. He pounded on the door a few times before sitting back on the floor. The only light came from a hole in the thatch roof, a rectangle of blue just large enough for his body to squeeze through if only he could figure out a way to get up there. Aside from the inventory of animal parts, there was nothing of substance to stand on, no furniture he could arrange into makeshift scaffolding, and he felt the full weight of his impotence settle upon him.
He’d nearly drifted back to sleep, when a wash of light flooded the room and he looked up to see a young man standing in the doorway. He was a thin, light-skinned teenager with a placid, almost sympathetic face. He placed a cup on the ground, then turned and hurried from the room, locking the door behind him.
Gavin lifted the cup and drank without considering its contents. It wasn’t cold, but it was water and he was grateful for that. Beneath the cup was a small piece of paper folded in half. He opened it and read the words: Do what they say.
Do what who says? No one had told him anything thus far, so what, he wondered, was with the coy advice? He’d gladly do whatever anyone asked of him so long as he could gather his sister and hightail it out of this place. It didn’t take a detective to determine that some fuckup of his brother’s had landed him here, so as far as Gavin was concerned, Jonah could devise his own extraction plan.
An hour later, his captors stepped into the room. Each guy held a machete in one hand, a two-way radio in the other. They led him outside. He had assumed he’d been taken to some kind of village, but aside from the small shack, he could make out no other structures, and it appeared he was being housed in something like a remote hunting cabin. They didn’t say anything as they led him through a half mile of wet and tangling rainforest, before finally descending an embankment to a small fishing boat floating along the edge of a wide, slow-moving river. Sitting in the boat was the boy who’d brought him the water as well as the man who’d accosted him at the village, the man he’d mistakenly trusted. “Welcome,” the man said.
“Who are you?” Gavin asked in the most subservient voice he could muster. The two men with machetes shoved him into the boat, which was cluttered with empty water bottles and a tangled nest of fishing line.
“My name is Slinky,” he said, unleashing the boat from a nearby tree. “I’m Jonah’s friend. I’ve brought you here to help me.”
“I apologize for whatever my brother has done to you,” Gavin said, “but I don’t think I can be much help. I know almost nothing about his life here. And even less about whatever he’s gotten himself involved with.”
“Your presence is all I need,” Slinky said with a tight smile.
“So this is a kidnapping?” Gavin asked. Being kidnapped implied that Slinky would need to keep him alive rather than dump him in the river once he realized he was useless. So really, a kidnapping was good. He could take direction. As an actor, that’s all he’d ever done. This was just a new role, that of the shiftless yet obedient hostage.
“Sure,” Slinky said, yanking the pull cord of the outboard motor. “Let’s call it that.” The other men stepped aboard, and Gavin took a seat on a cooler that smelled strongly of fish, while Slinky, sitting tall in the lone captain’s chair, maneuvered the boat down the river.
“So what did he do?” Gavin asked Slinky. “My brother.”
“He has some money that belongs to me,” Slinky explained, peering downriver. “I sent someone to get it, but there was a problem.”
“So you’re the guy he met in Chicago?” Gavin asked, piecing the story together.
“That was my cousin, actually.”
“Okay,” he said, still confused. The river narrowed and Gavin had to duck to avoid the tendrils of mangroves bending toward the boat. “Where are we going anyway?”
“To work,” Slinky said, nodding to a clearing up ahead.
“I assume you’re the one who blew up the hotel?” Gavin asked.
“No, no,” Slinky said, smiling. “Those were terrorists.”
“You’re not a terrorist?”
Slinky shook his head.
“Then what are you?”
Slinky paused to consider his answer. “A merchant.”
* * *
—
THERE MUST HAVE BEEN a half dozen of the enormous beasts lying dead in a forest clearing. They reminded Gavin of smoldering tanks abandoned after an unsuccessful battle. They rested on their sides, squat legs pointing stiffly outward, like overturned plastic figurines. He tried to avert his eyes from the massacre, but the carnage surrounded him. Four or five guys stood atop the elephants, hacking at the flesh, blood-soaked bandannas tied around their faces. They sang along to an Afro-funk tune blasting from a small radio, breaking occasionally to wipe blood from their foreheads and drink from a canteen passed around the ranks. Gavin watched from the sidelines, horrified at what he was witnessing. After the elephant’s faces had been removed, the tusks were separated from the jaw, rinsed in the river, and stacked like cords of firewood in the bow of the boat. It was a ruthlessly efficient operation, bordering on industrial, and Gavin quickly realized that he was witnessing a routine day in the life of professional ivory poachers.
He heard a sharp whistle and saw Slinky waving at him, a bottle of beer in one hand and a satellite phone in the other. Gavin walked over to him.
“You should help,” Slinky said.
“I don’t know how,” Gavin said, recognizing the absurdity of his excuse.
“It’s very easy.” He motioned to the men hacking at dead elephants. “They can show you.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t take part in this. I’ll do whatever else you want but not this.”
“That’s what your brother said before I convinced him otherwise.”
Gavin heard a mewling sound and peered into the forest, where he discovered an elephant calf shackled to a tree. Metal cuffs connected by chains were fitted around its legs, keeping the animal from moving more than a few feet in any direction. Two small nubs of dentin protruded from its wrinkled face. Its eyes said, Kill me now please.
“He’s very small,” Slinky said, “but my buyers—they sometimes like the small pieces. We found this elephant standing next to his dead mother, crying like a little baby.” He laughed and threw his empty beer bottle at t
he elephant’s head, where it landed with a thud and fell to the ground. “We’re not sure what to do about this one. Maybe we will let it grow big, or maybe we will kill it now.” He pulled a handgun from the waistband of his pants.
“Okay, okay,” Gavin said. “Tell me what to do.”
“Go help him,” Slinky said, nodding toward the boy.
Gavin walked over to the kid, who stood ankle deep in elephant parts, working the tusk back and forth like a loose tooth. “What’s your name?”
“Oliver,” the boy said.
“I’m Gavin,” he said, lifting the sole of his shoe, which was stuck with something damp and fleshy. He raked it on a large rock. “I was told to help. What should I do?”
“We have to break it loose,” Oliver explained, as if it were plainly obvious.
Gavin looked down at the mangled elephant. The surrounding dirt was stained a deep crimson, and flies swarmed around the opening where its face had once been. Gavin stepped alongside the boy and grabbed the tusk and together they began pushing and pulling until it broke free of the skull with a loud crack.
“Very good!” Slinky yelled, hoisting an enthusiastic thumb in the air.
Gavin looked at the elephant’s eye, which was open wide, a single streak of blood running forth like a tear.
“Go on,” Slinky yelled. “Take it to the boat.”
Gavin tossed the tusk over his shoulder and carried it to the river. When he reached the boat, he stacked the tusk alongside the others, then lowered his arms into the water and washed the blood from his hands.
JONAH
HE CONVINCED EDWIN TO TAKE him to the village under the pretense that Laurent might have some information on Slinky’s whereabouts. It was late afternoon, and Laurent and Remy were chatting outside a hut. Jonah stepped out of the truck and walked over to them. “What happened to your leg?” he asked, motioning to the cast.
“At the hotel,” Laurent said.
“Jesus, Laurent. I’m sorry. I had no idea.”
A man Jonah didn’t recognize stepped forth to introduce himself. “Remy.”
“Nice to finally meet you,” Jonah said.
“These are your friends?” Laurent asked. Edwin and his men stood a few feet back, surveying the villagers, who seemed unsure what to make of their presence.
“Not really,” Jonah said. “But I’m sort of stuck with them for the moment.” He looked around the village. “Where’s Sam?”
“Inside,” Laurent said, motioning to the hut.
“How is she?”
“She’s fine. But she is not done yet. She has more work to do.”
“And Gavin?”
Laurent looked to the ground, shamefaced. “This is what we’re still figuring out.”
“I thought he was with you?”
“He was,” Laurent said. “But not anymore.”
“What do you mean?” Jonah asked, incredulous. “Where could he have gone?”
Laurent looked at the expanse of forest surrounding the village. “Many places.”
Jonah wanted to ask how he’d managed to lose one of the two people he’d been entrusted to watch, but there was no use in pointing fingers, especially since his own negligence was the catalyst for their maligned journey. “Can I speak with Sam?” he asked.
“You can try,” Laurent said.
Jonah ducked inside the hut and found his sister lying on the ground, a metal pail filled with what smelled like stomach fluids resting next to her head. Her hair was wild and her face, which had been painted white, was now stained with a mixture of dirt and tear tracks. She looked like a bereaved clown after a night of heavy drinking. He placed his hand on her shoulder and roused her awake.
“Jonah?” she said, opening her eyes. She tried to sit up, but her stomach wasn’t up to the task and she made another contribution to the pail.
Jonah held her hair back while she finished, then wiped her mouth with his shirtsleeve. He looked up and saw Grace standing in the doorway holding a bowl of water. She walked over to Sam, knelt next to her, and placed a hand on her forehead. Grace began whispering in Sam’s ear, while another woman used a palm frond to fan incense in her face. “What are you doing?” he asked.
“She must rest,” Grace said.
“When will this be over?” Jonah asked.
“Soon.” Grace motioned toward the door. “Please. Let us do our work.”
Jonah placed his hand on Sam’s shoulder and kissed the top of her head. “I’ll be back,” he said. “I love you.”
Back outside, Edwin was talking on the phone, while the rangers were inspecting something beneath the hood of the jeep.
“Who’s he talking to?” Jonah asked, but the men ignored him.
Laurent appeared, holding his cellphone out to Jonah. “It’s your brother.”
“Gavin?” Jonah said, taking the phone.
Edwin ended his call and turned his attention to Jonah.
“Where the fuck are you?” Gavin yelled through the phone.
“Where are you?” Jonah asked.
“I’m floating down a river in a boat filled with elephant tusks.”
“What happened?”
“I was kidnapped,” he said curtly. “By that Slinky guy. He said you have his money. He wants it back.”
“Put him on,” Jonah said. There were a few seconds of rustling before Slinky’s voice greeted him on the other end.
“Bad Elephant Man,” Slinky said. “You were doing so good, but then you try to make trouble. Why you making trouble for me?”
“I still have your money,” Jonah said. “You can come get it whenever you want. But if you hurt my brother, I swear to God I’ll dump it in the river.”
“I heard about your new friend,” Slinky said.
There was no use in lying. His cover was blown. “They know about it, Slinky. They knew all along. They knew as soon as I landed in Chicago.” He looked back to Edwin, who was shaking his head, silently imploring him to shut his mouth. “They’ve been tracking you for months,” Jonah said, turning his body to block Edwin, who was reaching for the phone. “They’ve already arrested Andre, and they’re coming for you next.”
“You idiot,” Edwin muttered.
“Good,” Slinky said. “Tell them to bring my money.”
“How about I bring your money?” Jonah said. “And you release my brother in exchange. Isn’t that how this is supposed to work?”
“I don’t know. You’ve turned into a real killer, Elephant Man. I’m not sure I can trust you after what you did to Sterling.”
“That wasn’t my idea.”
“No matter. I still can’t take the risk.”
“Then how do we resolve this?”
“There’s a place in Franceville called The Dream Factory. It’s a nightclub in the city center. In the bathroom is a storage closet that will be unlocked. Leave the money there. I’ll be by to collect it, and if you haven’t kept any for yourself, I will release your brother.”
“When?” Jonah asked.
“Tonight. But if you mention any of this to your new friend, we will have a very big problem. And by we, I mean your brother.”
The call went silent. Jonah handed the phone back to Laurent.
“What’s going on?” Laurent asked.
Jonah realized that Laurent, like his siblings, had been doing what was asked of him without much explanation, and Jonah knew that if he didn’t level with him soon he might lose one of his only comrades. He told Laurent about his arrangement with Slinky and his time together with Mateo, mercifully omitting what had become of his employee, and then skipping ahead to his return and subsequent involvement with Edwin. As Jonah unfolded his story, Laurent shook his head in the manner of a disappointed father. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this?”
“Because t
here’s nothing you could have done. I was blackmailed. And if you had known, it would have made things worse. I was trying to protect you from this. You and your family.”
“Does Marcus know?”
“Nobody knew anything until now. I was trying to keep it that way.” Jonah looked to Edwin, who was calmly rolling a cigarette on the hood of the truck. “I blame you for this.”
Edwin shrugged. “Blame whoever you want.”
Jonah tossed the backpack over his shoulder and began walking toward Laurent’s car.
“Where are you going?” Edwin said, looking up.
“To get my brother.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Edwin called after him.
“Why’s that?” Jonah asked, walking faster.
“Because it could interfere with our plan.”
“I don’t believe you have a plan,” Jonah yelled back.
Edwin caught up with him, grabbed him by the shoulder. “I think you should reconsider what you’re about to do. We’re putting a plan together that will allow us to get your brother back safely. I’m asking you to please let us do our work.”
“Get off me,” Jonah said, shaking free. He opened the door of Laurent’s car and stepped inside.
“Jonah!” Edwin yelled after him. “I strongly urge you not to do this!”
GAVIN
THEY FLOATED DOWN THE OGOOUÉ River, the sun slipping behind hills of lemongrass. Oliver piloted the boat, while Slinky and the rest of his shipmates were gradually falling under the spell of palm wine. The dressing on his wounds had begun to peel away, his T-shirt now chafing against the burned skin, and a dull throbbing pain issued from somewhere toward the back of his neck. He was supposed to have returned to the hospital to change out the dressing, and he couldn’t help but imagine the wounds becoming infected. He hadn’t eaten anything other than the mangoes earlier that morning, and aside from the small act of mercy shown by Oliver, he hadn’t had anything to drink. “Do you have any water?” he asked Slinky.
“Lots of water in this river,” Slinky said with a hearty laugh.