T HAT damned field trip. Vic was my trip buddy, but there were a lot of things to do, a lot of people to see, and simply being buddies didn’t mean that you were chained together. It was just a way for one teacher and one chaperone to leverage a little more supervision. So, we weren’t together the whole time. Should have been, but we weren’t. And when Vic wasn’t around, I figured that he was off with Cramer and Stowe, the goon squad.
It was a park, and we were doing some nature things. God knows, I couldn’t remember most of it if I tried, but there was a sinkhole about forty feet deep at the edge of the property. It was surrounded with yellow tape with signs warning us to stay back. For most of the kids, you didn’t need the sign. I remember everything about the sinkhole. Everything.
Mrs. Marlow explained how the limestone deposits had built up and eroded and she went through the story about how sinkholes came to be. This particular one had swallowed a garage and two cars. Pretty impressive to a seventh grader. And as long as someone didn’t go to the actual edge of the sinkhole, as long as someone stood back maybe a couple of feet behind the yellow tape, what danger could there be?
My trip buddy was nowhere around and I really wanted to see if you could still view the garage or the two cars. The story was that nothing had ever been brought back to the surface. So I worked my way over to the yellow tape, and seeing no one who would stop me, I ducked under the yellow plastic and walked up to the sinkhole, leaning forward and peering into the craggy depths of the pit.
When I felt the pressure on my back, the hard shove, I started to turn, but it was too late. I staggered forward as the ground crumbled under my feet. I can still feel the breathless rush of fear that gripped my midsection. My heart seemed to stop and my stomach rolled in wild turmoil. Feeling my body dropping with the soft earth, I think I screamed and turned in midair, grasping at what remained of the dirt, clawing at it with my skinny fingers. Somehow I hung on. About two feet down. The earth I was clinging to was soft and I could sense it was only a matter of time before it gave way and I would plummet to the bottom of the forty-foot chasm.
I looked up, hoping to see a sign of rescue. Instead, I saw Justin Cramer and Mike Stowe looking down. As I remember, not with glee on their faces. I actually believe I saw raw fear, and it was totally clear to me what had happened. They’d pushed me, for no apparent reason and now were petrified that they’d be found out or possibly they realized they’d finally crossed a line. They had attempted murder.
I screamed again, the cavern soaking up the sound. I watched them turn and run and I felt the fine silt of the earth slowly erode under my fingertips.
And then, there was Vic. When he called my name and I looked up, he was already on his belly, inching forward with his hands outstretched. He reached down, telling me everything was going to be all right. To this day, I can still feel the pain in my knuckles, the cramps in my hands from grasping the dark brown dirt.
Slowly, he reached down as his shoulders and chest cleared the opening. I should have prayed that he didn’t fall as well, but all I could do was pray for myself. He wasn’t just saving my life, he was putting his life on the line and there’s a difference. A big difference. Finally, he reached my wrist and he pulled, breaking my grip and holding my entire weight with one hand. He worked his way back, pulling me with him until he was able to reach down with his second hand and haul me out. How he managed it, I’ll never know, but we were both shaking when I reached the surface.
“Vic.”
He was breathing deeply, and he looked into my eyes and shook his head. “Don’t ever tell anyone about this. Ever. Don’t tell them how it happened, and don’t ever tell them how you got out. Don’t, Skip. Just don’t.”
I called Emily three times. She didn’t answer the first two times. The third time she picked up.
“What?”
“That call was serious. The guys who tried to kill us were on the phone. They want the rest of the mail by tomorrow night or they’re going to start chopping off more of Vic’s body parts.”
“Oh, my God. You still have some of that?”
“And we were trying to call Fuentes and see what his reaction was and you were on the-” the phone beeped.
“Jesus! Em, it’s ringing again. I’ve got to get this, but can we talk tomorrow? Please? We need a serious face-to-face. Em?”
“Take your call. We’ll talk tomorrow.” She sounded defeated. I’d had one night to consider her earthshaking news. She’d obviously been grappling with the information for a much longer time.
I punched the green button. “Hello?”
“This is Rick Fuentes.”
“Rick… Mr. Fuentes, since we left your place the other night a lot of things have happened. Let me start at the beginning.”
I did. I even told him about the Cafe Cubana list falling out of the box and accidentally still being in our truck. And by the time I was done, I was exhausted. James sat on the trunk and kept shaking his head as if he was reliving all the highlights.
Fuentes was quiet on the other end of the line. I assumed he was absorbing the information.
Finally, “Mr. Moore, the two men you refer to did stop by here. They have my son, and until I am certain that Victor is alive and well-until I am certain he will return to me, I must do what they tell me. They asked for the list. Apparently you had it when they met you at the storage unit.” He was quiet, waiting for my response.
“Yeah, maybe.” God I hate getting caught in a lie.
“They picked and sorted through the mail, but the list wasn’t there. I convinced them I was not aware of its whereabouts. Apparently they knew where to look.”
“Yeah. Well, do you want it back or should we-”
“I asked you to walk away from this situation for Victor’s sake. Please, Mr. Moore. Deliver the envelope as they have asked and then just go away. You’ve done all you need to do.” And then he said something I found very strange, but very true. “You know, if Jackie had opened my mail you wouldn’t even be involved in this. She was supposed to open the fucking mail.”
I thought about that for a moment. He was right. If the wife had opened the mail, she would have found the finger. That probably should have happened, but Jackie never opened any of his mail. She would have seen the list of donors. God, I wish she had. We’d be oblivious to this entire situation.
“Are you surprised she didn’t open your mail?”
“Yes. Actually, somewhat disappointed that she didn’t,” he paused, “and that you did. I asked her to open it. I asked her to please open anything that came to our… her house, but that’s not the point here. Give them the list and walk away. I can’t have your blood on my hands.”
I glanced at James, who was chewing on a fingernail. He gave me a look of exasperation.
“We’ll make the drop tomorrow at eight o’clock.”
“You don’t want to go any further with these men, Mr. Moore. Trust me. Please, for Victor’s sake, leave it alone. I’ll let you know when everything is settled.” He hung up the phone.
For Victor’s sake. I couldn’t put him at risk. I glanced at my two hands, thinking about having a finger amputated. Crudely amputated. A ring finger.
“We’re going to drop off the envelope in the trash can at Denny’s.”
“And that’s it?” James seemed relieved.
I thought about it. I thought about the fact that I was still around to think about it. And if it hadn’t been for Vic putting his life on the line-
“No. That’s not it. We’re going to follow these guys and see where Vic is.”
“You’re out of your fucking mind. You’re a madman, Skip.”
“You said it yourself, James. Once they get everything they want, they could kill us. I want to know who they are, where they are, and where Vic is.
“Skip! We could get killed. Vic could get killed.”
“Yeah, but we’re not going to get free of this until we find out where he is.”
It wasn’t just saving a life, it was putting a life on the line and there’s the difference.
There was no other choice. “I’m going to try to get some sleep.” Who was I kidding. I lay there for half an hour and finally got up and made a cup of weak coffee. I watched the sun creep over the horizon and cast its bold red rays into the cloudy sky. Red sky. My father had taught me a saying from his Navy days.
Red sky at night, sailor’s delight.
Red sky in the morning, sailor take warning.