by Kiki Swinson
“Where are you going?”
“To sleep,” he replied, and then he left the kitchen.
21
REESE
Hours later, I was awakened by the constant ringing of my cell phone. I answered the call on the fifth ring. “Hello,” I said, still somewhat groggy. I was so out of it that I didn’t even look at the caller ID.
“Reese, are you still asleep?” I heard a familiar voice say.
“Yeah,” I mumbled.
“Look, you gotta get up. I need you to hear what I’m about to tell you.” The voice became more familiar. And then it clicked in my head that it was my wife, Dawn, so I opened my eyes wide enough to let the light in the bedroom wake me up.
“I’m up,” I assured her.
“Baby, the port police and US Customs are crawling all over this place because a dead body was found inside of one of the old containers by the west gate.”
Hearing that the Asian man’s body had been found shook me to the core. I instantly sat straight up. The tiredness I felt when I answered my cell phone disappeared at that very moment. I need to get Brian and Edward on the phone ASAP.
“Was it a white man? Black man? Or what?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer. I just didn’t want to jump the gun and give her some information that she wouldn’t be able to handle.
“Reese, don’t play games with me. You know the guy was Asian. Now tell me what’s going on and why that man was dead,” she whispered angrily.
“Baby, I don’t know why that man is dead. I don’t even know who you’re talking about. After the guys and I moved the two containers to the railroad cars, we did our other job and that was it.” I tried to explain, but she wasn’t buying it.
“Reese, I am not stupid. You told me you guys were going to get paid to move the containers with Asian people inside of them. So, tell me what’s going on before something happens and I can’t defend you.”
“Dawn, I swear I have nothing to do with that dead guy. But tell me who found him.”
“Two of the terminal inspectors. They were making their rounds around the terminal and that’s when they ran across the container. My supervisor just told me that the port police and US Customs are starting a homicide investigation and everyone that worked last night will be interviewed.”
“Well, when they come at me, I’m gonna tell them that I don’t know shit.”
“Regardless if you know something or not, they’re coming for you and whoever else was working last night, so you better be prepared,” she warned me.
“A’ight, well, let me get off this phone so I can get up and take a shower,” I told her. But in reality, I was trying to get her off the phone so I could call Edward. It was almost one p.m., so there was no question in my mind that Edward had seen Mr. Ming by now.
Feeling a thick cloud of anxiety looming over my head, it took me three tries to dial Edward’s correct cell phone number. And when he answered I went straight into question mode. “Hey, Ed, what’s up?” I started off, trying to get a feel for the mood he was in.
“Well, I just left the big man’s restaurant. So, we’re good as far as the money is concerned,” Edward explained.
“Did you tell ’im about the dead guy?”
“Of course I didn’t. As far as he knows, everything is intact. Apparently, he had one of his people go out to the terminal to take pictures of the containers and text him copies. So, as far as I’m concerned, that guy that was accidently killed by Brian escaped on his own and somehow got murdered in the process. And that’s the story I’m sticking to.”
“So, have you talked to anyone? Todd, Brian, or Gene?”
“No, but why you ask?”
“I take it that you haven’t been to the terminal?”
“No, why? Is there something wrong?” he asked me.
“Dawn just called me and told me that two of the terminal inspectors found that Asian guy’s body not too long ago.”
“Reese, please tell me that you’re pulling my leg.”
“If I said that, then I’d be lying. But my wife just called me and told me that the guy’s body was discovered and now US Customs and the port police are starting an investigation. She also said that they’re going to interview every fucking person that worked the night shift.”
“Are you fucking kidding me right now!” Edward barked. “This is some bullshit!” he continued as he spewed out over a dozen words of profanity. I could tell that he was about to come apart at the seams and spaz the hell out. But I needed to keep him levelheaded so we could figure this thing out.
“Whatcha think we should do?” I asked Ed. I needed some direction concerning this matter. And since he’d been working at this terminal the longest, I was positive that he’d come up with a plan to stay clear of the cops. It didn’t matter if it was US Customs or the port police because at the end of the day, they both had the authority to lock our asses up. Simple as that.
“Look, you’re gonna have to let me call you back,” Ed told me, and then he abruptly disconnected our call.
I sat in the bed not knowing what to do. One part of me wanted to quit my job and never step foot on the terminal again. But then the other part of me wanted to say fuck it and deal with the situation head-on. I mean, it’s not like I was the one that killed the guy. Brian did it. So, he alone should take the fall for it.
I knew one thing for sure, Dawn was right when she told me to stay clear of that job. But no, I let greed get in the way and cloud my judgment. I just hoped that the officers would close the case when they realized he was an immigrant with no name or legal papers. I mean, why do anything else? It was his fault that he got into that container. Plus, I’m sure he knew that this journey to the US would be shaky. I’m sure he’d heard other stories about immigrants losing their lives trying to sneak into our country. Why should this time be any different? I say dump his fucking body in the ocean and call it a day’s work. Because if the cops did a full-scale investigation, they were gonna end up spending a lot of people’s tax dollars. And considering where our economy is now, that would be a bad move. My only hope was that this thing didn’t blow all out of proportion, because if it did, Edward, Brian, and the rest of us would be traveling up shit creek without a fucking paddle.
* * *
After getting that initial call from Dawn and then having that talk with Ed, I couldn’t go back to sleep. Instead, I got out of bed and hopped in the shower. I wasn’t in there long because I wanted to fix myself a cup of hot tea. While I was preparing my cup, I heard my cell phone ring in the bedroom. I dashed out of the kitchen to answer it. “Hello,” I said, putting the call on speakerphone.
“Yo, Reese, I just got off the phone with Ed. He told me that we got a problem and that I needed to call you,” Brian said.
“Did he tell you anything else?” I needed to know how to break the news to him and if I needed to start from ground zero.
“No. Why?” Brian replied.
I sighed heavily and said, “Look, dude, I just got a call from my wife saying that two of the inspectors found that Asian man’s body about two hours ago. And that they’re going to start a homicide investigation.”
“Are you fucking serious?” Brian sounded panicked.
“Yeah, I am. I just hung up with her not even an hour ago.”
“Get the fuck out of here. This can’t really be happening right now.”
“Well it is, so get with Ed and Gene so y’all can figure out how you’re going to handle this situation.”
“Whatcha mean, so y’all can figure out? You’re as involved as the rest of us. I mean, if you had done your fucking part, I wouldn’t have had to come and help you catch those motherfuckers in the first place.”
“So now it’s my fault that the man is dead?” I roared.
“It’s as much your fault as everybody else’s.”
“Nigga, you gotta be out of your fucking mind to say some dumb shit like that. So, on that note, I’m gonna have to talk to you la
ter.” I ended the call because this nigga was getting me angrier and angrier by the second. I mean, how dare he say that I was involved with that man’s death? I was nowhere near Brian when he choked the life out of him. So, he can take that sob-ass story somewhere else, because I ain’t trying to hear it. Not now. Not ever.
Immediately after I hung up on Brian, I fixed my cup of tea and carried it back to my bedroom. I set the cup down on the nightstand and thought about the conversation I had just had with Brian. Was he fucking serious when he said that I was to blame for that guy’s murder too? He was the one who strangled the guy, not me. He and Gene disposed of the body, not me. So, why the fuck must I go down with those motherfuckers? I needed to figure out an exit plan.
22
DAWN
I sat at my desk while my coworkers whispered and gossiped about the dead Asian guy. My supervisor, Mrs. Powell, was having a field day with this newfound information. Her cubicle was about thirty-five feet away from me, but I could hear her like she was standing next to me. I heard her talking to someone on the phone.
“I just got off the phone with Linda over there at the main building, and she said that port police and Customs are all over this place. She also told me that those boys in uniform aren’t gonna stop this investigation until they find the culprit that did it,” I heard Mrs. Powell say. Judging by her responses, there was no doubt in my mind that she was talking to someone in one of the office buildings on this terminal. Mrs. Powell talked for about fifteen minutes. But one thing she said really stuck in my head. So I paid close attention to every word she uttered. “Linda said right after the inspectors found the Asian guy’s body, they went on a full-scale search and found two containers on the railroad cars with at least thirty to forty people in each one. And she also said that out of that number, a total of six people were found dead. They think they died because of the conditions in the containers. Can you imagine lying in that small metal box with limited oxygen and food? And then to have to watch people around you die? I swear, this whole thing is a tragedy,” she continued, and then she fell silent.
I couldn’t tell if I was about to hyperventilate or pass out altogether. Finding out that Customs had found all the freaking Asian immigrants that my husband had been paid to help transport made me sick to my stomach. I fucking told him not to get involved with this whole thing, but he wouldn’t listen. And now he might get arrested for his role in this human trafficking conspiracy. What the fuck was I going to do now? I mean, it wasn’t like I was going to be able to help him. Now that government officers were involved with this investigation, my hands were tied. I couldn’t even get my dad to call in a favor. This whole situation was beyond my control, so I guess all I could do was sit back and watch everything as it unfolded.
When Mrs. Powell finally got off the phone, I got up from my chair and walked over to her cubicle so I could get all the information she knew about the investigation. “So, I hear that Customs just found two containers with people from another country inside of them,” I said, acting like I knew what was really going on.
“Yes, my friend Linda from the administration building overheard Customs agents talking to the head captain of port police. She said she heard them say that there were about eighty people divided between the two containers, and six of them were dead.”
“Wow! That’s so unfortunate. I hope there weren’t any children in there,” I said, trying to get Mrs. Powell to give me everything she knew.
“No, I’m sure there weren’t any children. If there were, she would’ve told me.”
“I wonder how long they were in there?”
“They say the containers were picked up from China. And that trip from there to here took twenty-seven days,” Mrs. Powell said.
“Who could possibly sit in that thing for almost thirty days? I mean, wouldn’t they have to eat, sleep, and use the bathroom in that thing?”
“Yes,” she said.
I shook my head with disgust while I tried to picture the living conditions in those containers. And now that I thought about it more, I felt really fucked up that I used some of the money that was paid to Reese for his involvement. “Did your friend Linda tell you what Customs is going to do with the people that are still alive?”
“No, she didn’t. But I’m sure the agents are going to transport those people to a hospital, where a quarantine area will be set up as a precaution just in case any of them are infected with any diseases.”
“What about the people who died?”
“I’m not sure how the agents will deal with that situation. But I’m sure they’ve got a plan in motion.”
“Think any of the longshoremen or merchant seamen were involved?” I asked her, trying to sound naïve. I felt like the only way she’d feed me all the information I needed was by acting like I didn’t know anything, so that’s what I did.
“Of course I do. This same situation happened a little over ten years ago. I don’t know if you were working here or not, but US Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents got a tip that forty-six women and three little girls were coming into port from one of the third-world countries. Well, when the ship pulled up, the agents surrounded it and intercepted the delivery of those women, minus two of the kids that died from dehydration and hypothermia. And when they started their investigation, four longshoremen and three merchant mariners got arrested for aiding and abetting illegal immigrants, conspiracy to commit human trafficking, and manslaughter.”
“Manslaughter!” I blurted out. I was shocked by the charges that those men had gotten for the role they played. The thought of Reese getting arrested and charged with human trafficking and manslaughter made my heart fall to the pit of my stomach. My legs started buckling underneath me. I knew I would fall to the floor if I didn’t hurry up and take a seat somewhere, so I asked Mrs. Powell to excuse me and I scurried away.
“Are you okay?” I heard her ask me while I headed toward my cubicle.
“Yes, I’m fine. I just need to sit down for a minute. My head started spinning, so I just wanna take a seat for a moment.”
“Okay. I’m here if you need me,” she said.
“Thanks.”
I took a seat in my chair and laid my head down on my desk for a few minutes. I closed my eyes for a bit so I could feel like I was hiding in a dark closet. I needed to feel like I was in that small space hiding from the world, and that included Reese. I swear, for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why I didn’t stop him from getting involved with this mess before he did the first job. What was I going to do now?
I believe I sat at my desk for ten minutes trying to decide whether or not I should call Reese and fill him in on what Mrs. Powell just laid on me. One part of me wanted to separate myself from this whole saga, but then again, I knew in my heart of hearts that I couldn’t sit around and not warn him about what was going to happen. I eventually grabbed my cell phone and walked away from my cubicle. I headed outside and walked over to the smoking stand. Thankfully no one was around smoking a cigarette, so I had total privacy to talk to Reese. After I dialed his number I sat on a bench and waited for him to answer my call.
“Hello,” he finally answered.
“We’ve got to talk.”
“I hope you’re not calling me with any more bad news,” he said.
“Well, I’m sorry, but that’s exactly what I’m about to do,” I spat. I mean, how dare he act like I’m the bearer of bad news? The only reason I’m calling his dumb ass in the first place is because I don’t want him walking around here blind. But this is the thanks I get.
He let out a long sigh. “What happened now?”
“I just heard that as soon as the man’s body was discovered, ICE agents ordered a thorough search of the terminal and found over fifty fucking people hiding inside two containers. And that’s not all. I also heard that six of them died inside it, and now this thing has turned into a six-time murder investigation.”
“Oh my God! No, this can’t be happening!
” Reese yelled. It sounded like he was about to have a nervous breakdown.
I tried to console him as much as I could. “Baby, please stay calm. Everything is going to be fine,” I told him, even though I knew what I was saying wasn’t true. Reese was about to be in some very hot water, and I didn’t think anyone was going to help him.
“How the fuck can I calm down? Do you know what you’re saying? You want me to calm down after hearing that Customs has found six more bodies? My fucking life is over. The feds are going to come looking for me and probably lock my ass up for the rest of my life. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” he screamed.
I pulled my phone away from my ear a little bit so his yelling wouldn’t damage my eardrums. I couldn’t bear it when he started sobbing. I’d never heard Reese cry before. He’d always projected himself as a strong man. Not afraid of anything or anyone. But today I saw a totally different man. I just hoped that he didn’t do anything to hurt himself while I was at work. “Baby, I’m gonna come home, so stay there,” I told him, while I began to have mixed feelings about everything. Dead people! Really? The mere thought of them made me sick to my stomach. I didn’t know how I was going to get past this one.
“All right,” he said, and he hung up.
I went back to the office and walked over to Mrs. Powell’s desk with this lie about me being sick and needing to take off the rest of the day. Thankfully she had no problems with it and let me go. “Hope you feel better,” she said.
“I’m gonna try,” I replied, and then I left.
23
REESE
What else could go wrong? My role in this human trafficking had gone from bad to worse. It wouldn’t take the agents long to figure out who was involved. I needed to figure out how I was going to minimize my role in it. I also needed to consider going to the agents and telling them what they needed to know so I could work out a deal with them. I’d seen shit like this all the time on cop shows. The first one to go to the police always came out on the winning end. They either got short sentences or no sentence at all. So, maybe that needed to be one of my options. I know niggas might end up calling me a snitch, but that was the least of my worries. I just wanted to be on the streets so I could take care of my wife and kids. All that other bullshit ain’t even worth my freedom. Now I know people would look at me and say, Damn, Reese, what about those people that died? Do you even care about them? And my answer would be, I didn’t tell them to walk into that container. That wasn’t my choice so that’s not my problem.
