Eric squeezed Ben's face hard. Eric was still pissed off because Ben got him in trouble by almost getting away, so his face was flushed as red as his hair.
'Stop shouting or I'll cut off your fucking head.'
Mike said, 'You with the heads. He did great, yelling for help like that. Stop squeezing his face.'
'You want the fuckin' neighbors to hear?'
Mike tucked the phone back into the duffel, then took out a cigar. He peeled off the wrapper as he considered Ben.
I97
'He won't yell anymore, will you, Ben?'
Ben stopped squirming. He was scared, but he shook his head, no. Eric let go.
Ben said, 'Who was that on the phone?'
Mike glanced at Eric, ignoring him.
'Put him in the room. If he starts screaming, put him back in the box.'
Ben said, 'I won't scream. Who was that? Was that my mama?'
Mike didn't tell him or answer any of his other questions. Eric locked him in an empty bedroom with giant sheets of plywood nailed over the windows, and told him to get some sleep, but Ben couldn't. He tried to pull the plywood off the windows, but it was nailed too tight. He spent the rest of the night huddled at the door, trying to hear them through the crack. Sometime during the middle of the night he heard Eric and Mazi laughing. He listened harder, hoping to find out what they were going to do with him, but they never once mentioned him. They talked about Africa and Afghanistan, and how they had chopped off some guy's legs. Ben stopped listening and hid in the closet the rest of the night.
Late the next morning, Eric opened the door.
'Let's go. We're bringing you home.'
Just like that, they were letting him go. Ben didn't trust that Eric was telling the truth, but he wanted to go home so badly that he pretended it was real. Eric made him go to the bathroom, then marched him through the house to the garage. Eric was wearing a baggy plaid shirt with its tail hanging out. When he reached to open the door to the garage, his shirt pulled tight and Ben saw a pistol outlined at the small of his back. Eric hadn't been wearing the gun yesterday.
The garage was heavy with the smell of paint. They
I98
had painted the van brown and covered the writing on its sides. Mazi was waiting behind the wheel. Mike was already gone. Eric led Ben to the rear of the van. Eric said, 'Me and you are gonna ride in back. Here's the deal on that: I won't tie you up if you sit still and keep your mouth shut. If we stop at a red light or somethin' and you start screaming, I'll shut you up good, then it's the bag. We clear on that?' 'Yes, sir.' 'I'm not fuckin' with you. Somethin' happens like we get pulled over by the cops, you smile and pretend like you're having a great time. You come through on that, we'll bring you home. Got it?' 'Yes, sir.' Ben would have said anything; he just wanted to go home. Eric lifted him into the back of the van, then pulled the door. The garage door clambered open as Mazi started the engine. Eric spoke into a cell phone. 'We're go.' They backed out into the street, then drove down the hill. The van was a big windowless cavern with two seats up front and nothing in back except a spare tire, a roll of duct tape, and some rags. Eric sat on the tire with the phone in his lap, and made Ben sit next to him. Ben could see the street past Mazi and Eric, but not much else. Ben wondered if what they had said last night was true, about cutting off legs. 'Where are we going?' 'We're taking you home. We gotta see a man, first, but then you'll go home.' Ben sensed that Eric was telling him that he was going home so that he would behave. Ben glanced at the van's doors, deciding that he would run if he got the chance. I99
When he turned forward again, Mazi was watching him through the mirror. Mazi's eyes went to Eric. 'He go- eeng to run.' 'Fuckit. He's cool.' 'Ewe fuhk up ah-gain, Mike weel keel ewe.' 'These D-boys take everything too serious. Everything's a fuckin' opera. The kid's cool. Kid, you cool?' Ben wondered what a D-boy was and if Eric was talking about Mike. 'Uh-huh.' Mazi's eyes lingered on Ben a moment longer, then returned to the road. They wound their way out of the hills along a residential street that Ben didn't recognize, then climbed onto the freeway. It was a bright clear day and the traffic moved well. Ben saw the Capitol Records Building and then the Hollywood Sign. 'This isn't the way to my house.' 'Told you. We gotta see someone first.' Ben snuck another glance at the doors. Handles were set into each door, but Ben didn't see anything that looked like a lock. Ben checked to see if Mazi was watching him, but now Mazi was watching the road. The downtown skyscrapers grew in the windshield like giraffes huddled together on an African plain. Mazi lifted his hand with the fingers spread wide. Eric picked up the phone. 'Five out.' They left the freeway, slowing as they curved down the ramp. Ben looked at the doors again. They would probably stop at a traffic light or stop sign at the bottom of the ramp. If Ben made it out of the van, the people in the other cars would see him. He didn't think that Eric would shoot him. Eric would chase him, but even if Eric caught him, the other people would call the police. Ben was scared, but he told himself to do it. All he had to do was pull the handle and shove open the door.
The van slowed as it reached the bottom of the ramp.
Ben edged toward the door.
Eric said, 'Easy.'
Eric and Mazi were watching him. Eric took Ben's arm.
'We're not stupid, kid. That African up there, he can read your mind.'
Mazi looked back at the road.
They turned between a row of faded warehouses, then over a little bridge along more buildings with lots of spray-paint art and chain-link fences. Ben couldn't see much past Mazi, but the buildings looked abandoned and empty. The van stopped.
Eric spoke into the phone.
'The Eagle has landed.'
