Echoes of a Distant Summer (99 page)

His grandfather’s words poured out of his mouth like acid and etched themselves on Jackson’s heart. He stood up, surprised to be fighting back tears. “If I haven’t earned your respect by now, you can let me out
here. I’ll make my own way back! And don’t worry, I’ll never come down here again and shame you with my childishness! We’re through, Grandfather! As for your money, I don’t want it because I never want to see you again!”

Jackson was left on an empty ribbon of highway. The truck’s taillights disappeared around a sloping shoulder of the rising terrain and left him in darkness. Jackson was alone with his thoughts and the gusting wind. He started walking along the side of the highway, heading toward a little town fifteen miles distant called Casas de Piedras. Carlos had informed him that a bus passed through the town traveling to Durango. There was no other traffic in sight. The sky and the landscape merged in gray and black shadows. Distant clouds shimmered with lightning and the wind howled along the open corridor created by the winding asphalt highway.

Jackson pulled up the collar of his grandfather’s second sheepskin coat and kept striding down the shoulder of the highway. He was not afraid as he walked through the dark and desolate high mesa country. He kept one hand underneath his coat on the butt of his pig gun. Just because he didn’t want to kill didn’t mean that he was willing to be prey. He discovered that the time seemed to pass more quickly if he chanted the mantra, “I’ll never kill again for you, Grandfather! I will never kill for you again!” He repeated it for over four hours until he entered the town limits of Casas de Piedras.

It took him nearly three days to get to the Mexico City airport. He hitchhiked rides and rode buses where possible and spent two nights huddled on the side of the road. When he finally boarded the plane, he was dirty and unwashed, but happy to be headed home.

Three members of the four-man team that his grandfather had assigned to follow him south to Mexico City reported that Jackson was safely in the air. The fourth member was seated several rows behind Jackson on the aircraft.

E
lizabeth awakened to hands between her legs. Alarmed, she sat up immediately and was shoved roughly down on the cot. It was Alejandro. He pulled a knife from his belt and held it to her throat while his other hand traveled roughly over her body, squeezing her breasts and jabbing his fingers between her legs. She lay quietly and offered no resistance. Fortunately, her workout suit had no easily accessible openings for him to stick his hands into, so after a few minutes he stood up and gestured with his knife for her to get up.

Concerned that this was the moment in which she would have to fight for her life, Elizabeth hesitated.

Noticing her reluctance, Alejandro guffawed, “What? You don’t want lunch? Ain’t you hungry? Or do you just want to stay down here with me?” He grabbed his crotch suggestively. “I got something real big for you! You ain’t ever had it like I’m going to give it to you!”

Elizabeth got up from the cot and walked around Alejandro. As she passed him heading out the door, he pinched her buttocks hard. She kept walking as if nothing had happened. Alejandro laughed and followed her out of the room. Adolfo, the dog handler, was kneeling at the bottom of the stairs unchaining Rex for his patrol of the grounds. Rex was sitting quietly while Adolfo brushed his gleaming coat. Elizabeth halted, afraid to walk past the dog and climb the stairs. Alejandro came up behind her and pinched her buttocks again. This time Elizabeth swung and punched him full in the face. It was a hard blow, but it only knocked Alejandro back a few paces.

Elizabeth shouted, “Keep your goddamn hands off of me!”

Alejandro, who still had the knife in his hand, started for Elizabeth. His face was contorted with anger as blood dripped from his lips. He raised his hand to slash her with his blade, but Rex leaped at him. It was only Adolfo’s grip on the dog’s chain that kept Rex from reaching him. Elizabeth ran up the stairs. Alejandro wanted to follow her, but the ferocity of the dog blocking his way momentarily disconcerted him. He unleashed a torrent of angry Spanish at Adolfo. Adolfo only smiled in response and gave Rex a little more chain to move around. Alejandro backed up and fell silent as he faced the enraged dog. He looked to Adolfo for help.

Adolfo said in English, “You got to remember, he’s trained to attack anyone with a weapon in his hands! Plus, he don’t like you in particular. I think it’s because you fed him those burritos with those goddamn jalapeño peppers!”

“You just keep that fucking dog off of me or I’ll kill him!”

“You’ll kill who?” Adolfo let out a bit more chain. “You’ll kill who?”

Alejandro glanced up the stairs after Elizabeth then back at Adolfo. He said placatingly, “Hey, I’m supposed be guarding that bitch! You got to let me pass!”

“I hear you’re supposed to be keeping your hands to yourself too. I’m sure Don San Vicente wouldn’t like to hear about the way you’re guarding her.”

Alejandro’s bravado disappeared. “Hey, this is between you and me, huh? I mean, we both work for the same boss. We’re friends, ain’t that right?”

“No, we ain’t friends and if you fuck with another of my dogs, I’ll let Rex loose on you!”

Alejandro conceded with an exasperated tone, “Okay! I made a mistake. Can I pass now?”

Elizabeth had waited at the top of the stairs when she heard the men below begin to speak in English. She needed as much information as possible if she was going to escape. However, once Alejandro was allowed to pass by Rex, she pushed open the door and headed for the kitchen. She was seated at the table waiting for her food when Alejandro entered the room. He started toward her, but Deleon and San Vicente entered the kitchen. Deleon sat down next to her while San Vicente went over to talk with the cooks. Alejandro sat at a different table, watching her.

Deleon asked her, “How’s it going?”

She wanted to respond, “How do you think, you sick fuck? I’ve been kidnapped, raped, and threatened with being sold into slavery!” Instead she said quietly, “Alejandro tried to force himself upon me. Only the dog handler’s presence stopped him.”

A frown passed across Deleon’s face. He got up and went to speak to San Vicente. There was a brief interchange during which San Vicente nodded and then Deleon picked up an aluminum pot and walked over to the refrigerator, which was behind Alejandro. Alejandro watched Deleon but did not turn when he went behind him. Without warning,
Deleon turned and hit Alejandro on the side of his head with the pot. The pot clanged off Alejandro’s head as he fell to the floor, dazed. Deleon growled, “You were warned about touching the merchandise!” He raised the pot for another blow, but San Vicente stopped him.

“That’s enough of a lesson. Don’t hit him again. I need him for guard duty tonight. Half my men are off because of the national holiday.” San Vicente watched Alejandro pick himself up slowly and observed, “You’ll be more careful now. Won’t you, Alejandro?”

Alejandro nodded silently, but Elizabeth noticed that his eyes were filled with evil intention. She knew that if he had his choice, her death would be painful and unpleasant. She continued to eat and could not taste the food. She was ushered back to her imprisonment without incident, but knew things were only going to get worse. She had to work out a plan. She got out her bobby pin and dedicated herself to opening the room’s other door. She had no idea what was in the room on the other side, but she hoped to find some implement or tool that would serve as a weapon. Despite the fact her fingers were cramping and sore, Elizabeth continued working on the lock. Afternoon passed on into evening, and after she had eaten her nightly tortilla and beans, she returned to her task.

When her fingers could no longer grasp the pin, she rested, then after a brief respite she began again. She wiped the sweat off her forehead and looked at the darkness outside the dirty casement window. It had been dark for many hours. She had moved the tumblers a number of times, but the bobby pin was simply not stout enough for the task. She looked around the room seeking an alternative as she had a thousand times, but there was nothing in the room but the cot, the sink, and the plastic toilet.

On a whim, she turned the cot over and examined its metal frame. There was a narrow supporting strut that was loose on the corner, held only by one rusty screw. The strut would fit in the old-fashioned keyhole. Fortunately, the screw was not rusted solid. She removed the strut and returned the cot and mattress to their upright position and went back to the lock. Although the strut fit into the lock, it would not move the tumblers. She needed to affix the bobby pin to the strut in such a manner that it would move the tumblers. She looked at the mattress and saw that it was hemmed with a heavy twine. Within twenty minutes, she had ten inches of the twine, which she had unraveled and bitten off the
mattress. She opened the bobby pin and then wrapped it around the strut. She then bound the twine around both strut and bobby pin as tightly as she could manage. The finished product was still a bit loose, but it was serviceable. She returned to the lock. The strut was just narrow enough that she was able to turn it in the lock a third of a turn. She could feel the tumblers. She bent the bobby pin’s prongs at an acute angle and jiggled the strut, then heard a click. She became excited. She kept moving the strut back and forth in the lock. Every few minutes she would hear another click, but the door remained locked. Finally, out of patience and frustrated, she jammed the strut into the lock and bent it in the process of trying to turn it and the door swung open.

She was so surprised that at first, she thought someone had opened the door from the other side, but there was only darkness and silence awaiting her. She peered cautiously into the room’s interior, into shadows which were cast by the indirect light of the bare bulb. She saw boxes of American soap powders, aerosol cans, and bottles of fluid sitting on shelves. On the floor was an old canister vacuum cleaner, a rug steamer, and an assortment of mops and brooms. She entered the room after waiting for her eyes to adjust to the dimness. It was simply a storeroom used for housecleaning supplies and equipment. It was about the size of the room in which she was imprisoned. She picked up a heavy string mop. The wooden handle was thick enough for a weapon, but it was too long and unwieldy for her to use effectively. She had been trained with a police baton, not a quarter staff. At the far end of the room, she saw creases of light around a closed door. She knew right away from its position that it must open very close to where Rex was chained. She would not venture near it for fear of arousing the dog.

She continued searching, returning every ten or fifteen minutes to her room and listening at the door for movement from the guard. All seemed peaceful. The guard was probably asleep. After an hour of looking on shelves and through dusty boxes, she found a hacksaw. Wrapping it in rags, she immediately began to saw off a four-foot section of the mop handle. She took her time, stopping every few strokes to listen. It took her nearly twenty minutes, but at the end she had a club that could easily break a man’s forearm. The only other useful item she found was an aerosol container of Black Flag. The directions on the container indicated it could shoot a solid stream of insecticide a twenty-foot distance. She hid both the aerosol can and the wooden
club under her mattress, then, using a piece of rag, she wedged the door to the storeroom shut. She dropped onto the cot totally exhausted and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

She had not been asleep long when she was awakened by an explosion. The walls were trembling from its force. The first explosion was followed quickly by three others, more powerful than the first. Even in the isolation of her room, she could hear the sound of automatic weapons being fired. Suddenly, she was filled with hope. She prayed that it was Jackson coming to rescue her. Then reality hit her. Whether it was Jackson or not, this might be her only chance of escape. She had to be prepared. She pulled out her club and can of aerosol from beneath the mattress. She stood up and knocked out the bare bulb above her head. She set the aerosol can by the storeroom door and settled down in the darkness behind the door to wait. The only light in the darkened room came from the dirty casement window and it was very weak. Even as her eyes adjusted, all she could see in the darkness was the dim outline of the cot. Another explosion shook the building then the door of her room opened, sending a shaft of light across the floor. She heard Alejandro’s voice, “What the hell!”

Elizabeth threw her full weight against the door, slamming into Alejandro. The force of the door knocked him off his feet and she slammed it shut, hoping that she had an advantage in the darkness. She saw him warily get to his feet and she waded in with her club. Unfortunately, he heard her coming and was able to avoid the first blow, which would have probably ended the fight. Elizabeth was forced to follow him. She hit him a glancing blow on the arm and a gun discharged; the bullet whistled past her head. She swung again and connected hard to his body. He fired two more shots wildly, which chipped the plaster walls behind her. She saw the silhouette of his gun in front of the casement window and hit the barrel of the gun, knocking it from his hands. The gun clattered as it hit the floor and disappeared in the darkness.

Another series of explosions rocked the building, several of which were close enough that their detonations actually cast quick glimmerings of light through the casement window. Alejandro turned toward her and snarled, “I see you now, you black bitch! I’m going to cut off your tits!” He charged her.

Elizabeth swung the club with both hands, putting every ounce of her weight behind the blow. The club smacked the top of his head, but
his inertia carried him into her. She was knocked backward as he fell across the tops of her legs. She tried to break her fall, but in the darkness she couldn’t see where she was going to land and hyperextended her left elbow when she fell against the wall. She cried out in pain as she crumpled to the floor. Alejandro groggily reached for her. She began kicking frantically, trying to get him off her legs. The club had fallen somewhere in the darkness. She got one leg free and kicked him in the head. He rolled off her other leg with a groan.