But for now there remained the warm feel of sand on their toes and the touch of salty beach air on their faces. And Annalee Miller’s hand in his.
That most of all.
2
Annalee felt sick even before she stepped out of bed. But it wasn’t jet lag. This time the work ahead of them weighed on her. Not until yesterday did she fully grasp what they’d be dealing with on the streets of Phuket today.
Once she and Tommy parted ways for the evening, the reality of what was happening on this island hit her hard. She had barely been able to sleep. Girls and boys in their early teens and younger being sold in the open marketplace. Twenty minutes from here.
It’ll be okay, she told herself. God will lead us where we need to go. She stood and looked around the room until she found what she wanted. Three vitamin B capsules and two bottles of water. A few minutes later Annalee felt stronger. She grabbed her Bible and stepped outside onto the balcony. Her parents were already in the lobby, meeting with the local Each One coordinator about the work ahead. Annalee still had thirty minutes before the group was set to meet for breakfast.
The air smelled of fresh jasmine. Annalee stretched her legs on the chaise lounge and opened her Bible to Philippians, chapter four. God’s Word was her companion and best friend. The voice of the Father spoke to her from the pages of a book that transcended time.
But of all the verses in all the chapters in all the books of the Bible, this part in Philippians was her favorite. She had the fourth chapter nearly memorized, but today more than ever she needed to see the words. Soak them into the depth of her soul.
Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
With every word, Annalee felt peace come over her. The passage filled the cracks in her heart and convinced her she would survive this day. Whatever terrible realities they saw.
Annalee knew a little about sex trafficking. They had talked about it at school. How to avoid being trafficked. Don’t talk to strangers. Don’t chat with unknown people online. Don’t hang out at the mall alone. That sort of thing. But today she would see helpless kids being sold and abused for the sake of someone else’s greed. Bought for a sickening selfishness.
Her eyes found the words again. Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything…
She closed her Bible and set it on the nearby table, but even still the Scripture stayed with her…. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds…
A gentle breeze blew off Andaman Bay this morning. Annalee stood and breathed deep. She stretched her arms over her head and for the next ten minutes she ran through a series of stretches. As she did, she remembered last night and the boy who lived permanently in her heart.
Tommy Baxter.
Nothing about Tommy was ordinary. He’d been the star basketball player on the Northside varsity team since their freshman year. Apparently, Tommy played the game just like his father had once played it. Mr. Baxter was a lawyer now, but back in his high school days, Luke Baxter had been first-team all-state.
No surprise that Tommy played like his dad. He looked like him, too. One of Annalee’s greatest joys was watching Tommy run up and down the court, driving to the hoop. Northside fans had come to expect twenty points a game from Tommy Baxter. But they didn’t expect the way he lived his life off the court. If Tommy had been like every other popular jock at school, he wouldn’t be with her family here in Thailand.
In fact, they wouldn’t have dated at all.
* * *
ANNALEE’S DAD WAITED till after they were done eating before turning the breakfast conversation over to Niran, their guide for the day. Niran and his wife ran the newly opened safe house near Phuket City and today he would take them to Bangla Road near Patong—the beach not far from where they were staying.
“You will see things today that will stay.” Niran tapped his temple. “Here. In your mind and soul.” Niran was maybe in his sixties. He told them how when his children had grown and gone, he and his wife felt a driving desire to help.
“So many children.” Niran’s eyes narrowed. “Those lost little ones, they are our family now.”
Tommy stayed by Austin as they walked to Niran’s van. Annalee walked with her parents. There would be no hand-holding for them today. As they set out, Annalee studied the architecture. This was her first time to Thailand, and the pastel buildings and Chinese accents surprised her. This developed city wasn’t the sleepy place she had expected.
Niran pointed out highlights as they made their way to Patong. “Everyone lost someone in the tsunami. It doesn’t matter how many years go by, we remember.” He slowed the van and pointed to a park just ahead. A battered boat sat on a cement platform. “That police vessel saved eighteen adults from the waters that day.” He nodded. “There are many tributes.”
As they drove into Patong, the building fronts changed. The signs and displays looked seedier. Cheaper. Same with the hotels. Niran pointed again. “Hotel rooms here are a mere fraction of what they cost at the beaches of Karon and Kata.” He set his jaw. “Many rent by the hour.”
They parked in a big lot at the beginning of a long stretch of road where outdoor market vendors lined the sidewalks. They stepped out of the vehicle. Niran gathered them close, as if the passersby might hear them. “This is Bangla Road.” He stared down the roadway. “Here we rescue children every week.”
A bad chill ran down Annalee’s arms.
“What are we going to do?” Austin was only sixteen, but he had a heart for their parents’ ministry. He always had.
“We will walk.” Niran pointed toward the busier parts of the street. “Make eye contact with the children and you will see. They know who I am. If they are afraid, they will look away.”
“These children are property,” Annalee’s father added. “They are owned by dangerous people, men in most cases.”
Niran nodded. “You will take my lead.”
Annalee looked at Tommy and for a few seconds their eyes held. The reality of this was clearly more than either of them could believe. She walked between her parents and Tommy stayed by Austin.
Their pace was slower than Annalee expected.
Not four buildings down Bangla Road, she spotted a pair of young teens walking toward them. The girls wore skimpy short skirts, bikini tops and high heels. Nothing like the typical beach attire worn by most women on the street.
Annalee felt her heart skip a beat… something was wrong with these girls. The situation was obvious, like Niran had told them. Annalee’s dad stopped and she and her mother did the same thing. But Niran hurried on. That’s when Annalee saw the men.
One trailed the girls. The other leaned on a nearby tree with a cell phone. Before Niran could say something, two white men in bold Hawaiian print shirts walked up to the girls. The guys looked like tourists.
The distance between them was too great for Annalee and her family to hear what was being said. But in seconds the man with the cell phone was at the girls’ sides. The two white tourists passed what looked like a handful of cash to the man with the phone.
And just like that, the girls took a hard turn toward a hotel, the tourists close beside them. A few doors down they disappeared through the doorway of a building. In English, the sign read, MASSAGE PARLOR.
Annalee felt sick to her stomach. Did that really just happen? The man with the cell phone met up with the guy who had been trailing the girls, and again money seemed to be exchanged.
Niran looked heartsick, but he kept walking. The others caught up to him. They had missed the chance to help the two girls. Annalee had a feeling there would be more.
Bangla Road bustled with an ethnically diverse mass of tourists.
Most of them seemed to be looking for a kind of fun that was illegal in other countries. Niran had told them the nights were worse. The things that could be bought and sold would hurt their hearts. He kept the details to himself. He didn’t have to say anything. Here in the Phuket sunshine, the sex slave industry was in plain sight.
Five more buildings and Annalee spotted a thin girl in the crowd ahead. She was walking toward them, and like the two others, this one wore high heels and heavy makeup. But as they got closer, Annalee gasped and covered her mouth. The child couldn’t have been more than ten years old. Dirt streaked her see-through shorts and top, and her hair was teased to twice its normal size.
Suddenly a Thai man, maybe fifty years old, came alongside her and shoved her. Hard.
The girl fell to the ground and scrambled to her feet. Blood trickled from one knee and terror screamed from her eyes, but she didn’t cry out. The man grabbed her little chin and forced her to look into his face. He barked something at her, then he dropped back into the crowd behind her.
“They are beaten if they don’t make eye contact with potential clients.” Niran spoke softly as they walked.
They were close enough now to see the girl was crying. She seemed desperate to avoid the eyes of passersby. Too terrified, too hurting to look up. Even if it meant a beating, apparently.
Annalee caught a determination in Niran’s eyes. He took a few running steps through the crowd and put his hand on the girl’s shoulder. Annalee and her family were just a couple feet behind, but they stopped. This was Niran’s territory.
Whatever Niran said, the child nodded. Tears trickled down her cheeks. And like that the angry Thai man was there at the girl’s side. He shouted something at Niran and then Niran whipped out his wallet. The police had given him a badge, a way of identifying himself as an informant.
Anything could happen at this point, Niran had told them. But a trafficker would rather lose a child slave than lose his freedom. And Thailand’s government was very hard on convicted sex traffickers.
It only took a few seconds for the Thai man to understand what was about to happen. Niran already had his cell phone out. Like a seasoned athlete, the perpetrator turned and ran for his life. He was halfway down the block when Niran stooped and talked again to the little girl.
She was still crying, her black eyeliner running down her face. Niran turned to Annalee’s parents. “We need to get her to safety. The child told me she’s been that man’s slave for three weeks. He said he’d kill her if she got away.”
Before they took the girl back to the van, Niran directed her to the nearest bench. When she was seated, the child’s feet didn’t even reach the ground. Annalee looked around. No one seemed to notice the scene playing out here. Tourists, too busy bartering for a better priced T-shirt to see a child sex slave being rescued. Too busy to notice other trafficked children mixed in with the summer crowd.
Annalee and the group formed a shelter around Niran as he worked. He said something to the girl and she ran her hands over her cheeks and nodded. Niran removed the heels from her young feet and slipped them into his backpack. From inside one of the pockets he pulled out a pair of sandals and gave them to her.
Her hands shook as she slid them on.
And in that single act, the child no longer looked like a sex slave. She was a girl in need of safety and shelter and family. With the change of shoes, the child looked like she might be Niran’s daughter. Niran motioned to Annalee. “Hold her hand, please.”
Annalee took the child’s hand and at the same time, the girl looked up. Her eyes welled with fresh tears and then she did something Annalee hadn’t expected.
The girl smiled.
“It’s okay.” Annalee figured the child didn’t speak English. But she had to try. The girl clung to Annalee’s hand. As if her life depended on it.
The group hurried down the street with Niran in the lead. Even still Annalee wasn’t sure what would happen once they reached Niran’s van. Would the child really go with them? She was young and thin and scared, but she didn’t know them. Annalee and her family were clearly not from Thailand, and Niran was a complete stranger.
Still, the child didn’t hesitate.
Niran helped her into the van and forty minutes later they drove through a set of double gates to a sprawling compound. Part of that time, Niran talked on the phone, no doubt preparing his team for the arrival of the girl. Behind the chain link and razor wire was a large white brick building. The place wasn’t glamorous but clearly this was the safe house. More like a safe hotel. They parked and a woman met them as they got out of the van.
“That’s Som, his wife,” Annalee’s father explained to the others.
The woman took the girl and gave Annalee’s group a traditional greeting. Hands together and a slight bow. As she left with the child, Niran turned to them. “She looks forward to meeting you later.”
They walked toward the front door. Annalee still couldn’t believe it. “How… old is she?”
Niran gritted his teeth. “Eight years.”
Like someone had kicked her in the gut, Annalee reeled toward her mother. The child was barely more than a baby. How could this happen? She stole a look at Tommy.
His eyes flashed with rage. “Mr. Niran… can I ask you a question?”
“Of course.” Niran’s eyes were teary.
“Where were the police?” Tommy clenched his jaw. “If we could see those girls so easily, why couldn’t they? Someone in authority should be rescuing these kids.”
Annalee agreed, of course. They all did. Ending the problem of sex trafficking in Phuket seemed simple enough. Arrest the guys with the children, lock them up and throw away the key. That would stop traffickers from thinking they could steal boys and girls and sell them on Bangla Road.
Niran shook his head. “They are smart, these men.” He looked disgusted. “They say they are Grandpa or Uncle. The kids usually agree.”
“Why?” The question was out before Annalee could stop herself. “Don’t they want to be rescued?”
“It’s complicated.” Niran crossed his arms. “Traffickers confuse the brains of these children. They threaten to kill their parents or families. It’s very precise how they treat their victims, like a science. Captors know how to keep their slaves.”
“Of course, it’s not just here.” Annalee’s father looked at each of them. “The United States has the same thing. Even Indianapolis. It’s just harder to see.”
Niran nodded. “I’m afraid so.” He looked toward the front door of the safe house. “We cannot help every child. But today, we thank God for saving that little one.”
Yes, Annalee thought. She closed her eyes for a few seconds. Lord, restore this child of Yours. Give her new life here. And help Niran and his wife save more boys and girls.
And suddenly she had a glimpse of the future. She could see herself working with rescued girls, giving them a safe place to live and heal, saving them from their wretched existence. Right in her own city.
In the vision she didn’t see only herself working with broken children. She saw someone else. But his face wasn’t that of a stranger. It was the face of the only boy she had ever loved.
Tommy Baxter.
3
Basketball practice let out early that September afternoon, and Tommy was thankful. He had agreed to take Annalee to a doctor’s appointment, a checkup. Just to see why she was still tired. Everyone figured she had mononucleosis. Something she might have gotten when they were traveling, and the virus was still lingering.
Her parents were out of town so today it would be just the two of them.
Routine, he told himself. No big deal.
They were a month into their senior year at Northside and all of life lay stretched ahead of them. Today wasn’t going to change that. She’d get the official diagnosis for mono, follow the doctor’s orders and get better. After talking to God about Annalee, Tommy had a sense everything would be okay. Annalee wasn’t dealing with anyt
hing serious.
She couldn’t be.
He took another five three-point shots and swished them all. His routine to end every practice.
Across the court Coach Anders entered the gym from the locker room and walked toward him. “Got another call from a scout. University of Michigan.” Coach was a veteran. He’d worked at Northside for nearly two decades. “You telling your parents about these offers?”
Tommy smiled. “They know.” Not for a minute did he want to play college basketball. He’d made that decision a year ago. He wasn’t tall enough for the NBA and college hoops would take too much time. He didn’t need the scholarship. His grades would take care of that.
Coach had a basketball under his arm. “We’re talking full ride. Division I programs.”
“No thanks.” Tommy led the way to the locker room. “Someone else out there wants it more than me. You know that.”
“True.” Coach Anders shook his head. “I’ll never understand you, Baxter.”
That was okay. Lately, even Tommy’s parents struggled to understand him. “You could at least try a season of college ball,” his dad had said to him a few days ago. Tommy listened, patient. But his decision never wavered.
He bid goodbye to his coach. Then he showered, grabbed his backpack and walked across campus toward the library. Annalee would be waiting for him there.
He saw her before she saw him. Did she look thinner? More frail? She wore a white button-up sweater and her shoulders looked practically bony. Weight loss was a symptom of mono. She should’ve gone to the doctor before this. But what if…
No. Annalee was fine. Her weight loss was just a part of the virus. Or maybe she hadn’t lost weight. Maybe it was just the way she wore the sweater. Yes, that was it.
They walked to the parking lot and he helped her into his black Jeep. Before they reached the road, she turned to him. “Tommy… you aren’t afraid, right?”
Truly, Madly, Deeply Page 2
