Smoke

by Meili Cady

  The Van Nuys Airport was surrounded by a residential neighborhood, separated from the community by a basic metal fence. We pulled up to the airport entrance and stopped at a boxy structure to the side of the entrance gate, just big enough to hold one overweight security guard, a clipboard, and a chair. The guard poked his head out of the structure as we pulled up. Ko opened the door and lifted himself out of the limo. “I’ll be right back,” he said. “Stay here.” Henry and I watched Ko have a short conversation with the guard. The two men walked over to the limo. Ko opened the door so that the guard could see us sitting inside with the luggage. “Hello,” the guard said as he acknowledged us. He told us to “go ahead” and “have a nice flight.” The limo driver took us directly onto the tarmac, next to where a small plane and its pilot were waiting for us.

  I was shocked at how easy it was for us to breeze through security. I could see why Lisette talked about how much she preferred to fly on private jets. I guess that’s what forty thousand dollars gets you. It’s not quite the same experience with a three-hundred-dollar commercial ticket.

  I remembered Lisette’s instructions: “Get out of the limo, walk up the stairs and onto the plane. Sit down and don’t talk to anyone.” The plane wasn’t fancy, the way I’d imagined it would be; it basically looked like a miniversion of a regular commercial airplane, with enough seating for maybe six people to travel.

  I grabbed a blanket from a seat and got comfortable while Henry and Ko boarded the plane. Henry looked around the cabin like it was all new to him too, but Ko bounced in confidently, grinning. He went to work eating his way through a snack basket before we took off. Once we were in the air, I closed the window to block out the outside light so I could take a nap. I wondered where I would be when we landed. New York? Florida? Perhaps we really were heading to Miami, like Lisette told the bank teller. Henry saw me snuggling beneath the blanket and said, “Good night.”

  When I awoke, it seemed I’d slept for hours. Most of the lights in the plane had been turned off. Henry and Ko sat ahead of me, quiet and possibly enjoying their own naps. I lifted the shade on my tiny oval window. If we were going east, there would likely be a three-hour difference, so I supposed I shouldn’t have been surprised to see that it was almost nightfall.

  After another hour or so, the plane began a descent. We landed in the dark on top of black concrete that glimmered with hints of frost and bits of snow on the ground, just outside of the tarmac. David was right, it looked cold out there. I wrapped my scarf around my neck and pulled on my coat.

  This private airport was small, like the one in Van Nuys. A few hundred yards from our plane, there was a white building that read LANE AVIATION in huge letters, where a few airport employees directed the plane to stop. The pilot opened the door to the jet, and Ko, Henry, and I stepped outside onto the tarmac. Once we’d stepped down I turned to Ko and asked, “Do you guys need help with the bags?” Ko got close to me and said in a low voice, “No. Go inside. We’ll meet you in there.” The workers watched me as I hurried toward the Lane Aviation building. My nose and hands were already feeling bitten by the cold. I should have brought gloves.

  I walked into a small room with yellowing travel brochures and limited waiting-room-style seating. It was about as fancy as a DMV, not like anywhere a “diva” would be likely to travel to. It reminded me of the office of the deep-sea fishing company that my parents took me to when I was a teenager, when we went fishing with my brother, Nick. I would have rather been deep-sea fishing right now, instead of waiting alone in this room for an unknown amount of time, in an unknown location, for an unknown purpose. I practically had to turn my brain off just to accept the terms of my employment with Lisette. It was mind-numbing to be left so in the dark—at least I’d be getting paid tomorrow. I had mounting bills that were past due, and I needed some room to breathe.

  Ko walked into the building with his cell phone in his hand. “We need to rent a car,” he said. “A shuttle is going to be here soon.”

  Henry, Ko, and I were shuttled with the suitcases to a desolate rental car company a few miles away. It was pitch black outside, and absolutely freezing. Many of the cars in the parking lot had snow on them. I rubbed my hands together for warmth while I sat on a folding chair in the back of the rental office, listening while Ko tried to convince Henry to put the rental car under his name because Ko didn’t have a credit card. “I only deal in cash, man,” he whispered to Henry. Henry was hesitant to let him use his card, so Ko went to me next. I reluctantly handed my debit card over. For some reason my card wasn’t accepted when the clerk tried to run it. I cringed. My account is probably overdrawn again. “I don’t know what could be wrong,” I said with a shrug. I was relieved that the car wouldn’t be in my name, especially since I probably wouldn’t be the one driving it. I didn’t even like to let other people drive the car I owned in L.A. because I was the only person on the insurance policy. It was too risky. Looking back, I might have been wise to choose my risks more thoughtfully.

  After more than an hour of trying to rent a car and running into confusing delays, David showed up in a cab to meet us. He walked in wearing a bulky winter coat. The tattoos on his neck were visible just above his wool collar. “Yo, you don’t have a car yet?” he asked. “Jesus fucking Christ, guys.” David shook his head as he went to talk with the clerk. Finally, we left in a rental car that was big enough to accommodate the four of us, as well as the luggage.

  We drove on an almost empty freeway, past dense forest, on our way to a hotel. Whatever town we were in was a far cry from Los Angeles. In the front seat, David turned on the radio and talked with Ko about “the drive tomorrow.” Henry and I sat quietly in the back. I wanted to ask David where we were. It wasn’t like I was brought here in some kind of hostage situation with a bag over my head. I wondered why no one had said anything about it, but I didn’t want to be the first one to address the pink elephant in the room. If I’d had Internet access on my archaic cell phone, I would have found out fairly quickly through GPS, but I didn’t have such luxuries with my budget at the time.

  Despite my curiosity, I decided that it was best to keep my questions to myself. Besides, it was going to be pretty obvious what city I was in when I flew out of the commercial airport the next day.

  We pulled into the parking lot of an old chain hotel called the Drury Inn, a tall building that looked almost haunted amid the weather and the night. I helped Ko and Henry wheel the bags into the lobby as David paid for two rooms from a thick envelope of cash he pulled from his coat. I found it physically impossible for me to lift one of the suitcases; it took some doing just to drag it along the carpet into the lobby. Now I understood why everyone had been struggling to move the bags all day.

  All the suitcases were moved into the lobby and ready to be taken to David and Ko’s room for safekeeping. David passed out access keys. “We got two rooms. Both have two queen beds, don’t worry. Ko, you and me are gonna share a room. Henry and Meili, you guys share one too. Sorry, guys, we got a budget. And I know this ain’t the Ritz, but when you start a business, you gotta cut some corners.”

  All four of us helped take the suitcases upstairs to David and Ko’s room. “I’m fucking starving, man,” David said when we were done. “You guys hungry?”

  As we walked across the street to a Rally’s Diner, I got a text from Lisette.

  ANGEL, ARE YOU THERE? CALL ME SO I KNOW YOU’RE OKAY.

  I called her right away. She answered, “Does this mean you’re alive?! Jesus, you had me worried! How is everything going, sweetie?” David and Ko heard me on the phone and turned around. It’s Lisette, I mouthed silently to them. David smiled a bit. So did Henry. “How are the boys getting along?” Lisette asked me coyly. She was referring to her boys, of course.

  “Oh, you know, it’s . . . good,” I said, aware that everyone could hear me.

  “Let me talk to Henry,” she said.

  I handed Henry the phone. “Lisette wants to talk to you.” David, a
few yards ahead of us, overheard me and glanced over his shoulder to see Henry talking on my phone and grinning. Henry passed my phone back to me. David glanced back again, confirming that she had never asked to talk to him. I tried not to bring any attention to the tense moment. The last thing I wanted was for Lisette’s love triangle to be discovered during a work trip, with me there to answer for it.

  The inside of the diner looked like a set from Happy Days. We settled into a booth and ordered greasy food from sticky menus. David’s phone rang, and he looked smug when he saw that Lisette was calling. “I’ll be right back,” he said.

  I was uncomfortable spending time around David and Henry, especially both of them at once. I tried to keep a distance from Lisette’s “boy toys.” I’d never seen her with a man whose heart she didn’t end up shattering, and I didn’t like the idea of being in the splash zone of her emotional carnage.

  By the time Henry and I got inside our room back at the dreary inn, we were both exhausted after a long day. I used my toothbrush from the plastic baggie in my purse, then crawled into bed with my clothes on. David was going to call us a taxi at sunrise, so there wasn’t long to rest before we traveled again.

  IN NO TIME, WE WOKE up to a prearranged and savagely early wake-up call from the front desk and met David downstairs.

  “The cab is gonna be here any minute,” David said as Henry and I stood with him inside the hotel lobby. Ko walked inside from the parking lot to join us.

  “Shit, it’s cold out there,” Ko said. “David, I got all the bags back in the car, so we’re good to go.”

  “Cool. Let’s take off after we get them in a cab,” David said. “It’s gonna be a long fuckin’ drive, man. And in the snow.”

  “You guys are driving a lot today?” I asked, curious.

  David and Ko looked at each other. “Yeah,” David said. “About ten hours.”

  Henry’s eyes widened. “Wow,” he said. “Well, have a safe drive.”

  “Thanks, man.” David pulled out two white envelopes. “Before I forget, this is for you.” He handed me an envelope. “And this is for you.” He handed the other to Henry. Then he reached back into his coat to grab the thicker envelope I’d seen him with yesterday. He counted out a stack of hundred-dollar bills and handed them to me. “This should cover the cab to the airport and two tickets back to L.A. If there’s change, keep it for food or something. Thanks, guys.”

  As the taxi carried us into the airport, I finally saw a sign: PORT COLUMBUS INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT. Ohio? I’d never heard of a booming casino industry in Ohio. Then again, I’d never been to Ohio, and I had no idea what industries were booming here. From the short exposure I’d had though, between last night and this morning, it looked like this place wasn’t brimming with things to do. Gambling would be an understandable pastime. David had probably connected Lisette to people here, and she was bringing her expertise on to expand someone’s business. It made sense. That would explain what was likely money or equipment in the suitcases.

  It all still seemed dodgy, though; I had a feeling that whatever we were doing must be on the edge of legality, maybe some specific form of gambling. If it was in fact illegal, it was probably something that was commonly done in the “big business” world that generally flew under the radar. I couldn’t imagine Lisette doing something far outside what her family would support.

  My mind stopped wandering through possibilities as Henry and I walked into the airport. It was time to focus on getting home, which we were both eager to do. I bought us two tickets on the first available flight back to Los Angeles. In the two hours before our flight, we walked around the airport gift shops, talking about everything except work. We laughed easily together. This was probably more conversation than Lisette would have liked us to be having, but what do you expect when two people are forced to spend so much time with each other? I enjoyed Henry’s company. We’d graduated from high school the same year, 2004, so we would have been in the same class. I thought that we would have been friends if we’d been in school together. I hoped that Lisette would be kind to this one. And, for Henry’s sake, I hoped that David never found out that they were sharing Lisette. As Lisette had said, “He would kill him if he found out.” I didn’t take David for a killer, but love and lust can make people do crazy things.

  IN L.A., HENRY AND I shared a taxi back to David’s apartment to collect our cars. “See you soon,” Henry said when the cab left us in front of the building. “I think we’re leaving again next week. Lisette said something about that.”

  “Oh.” I nodded. This was new information to me, but I didn’t let on. “Yeah, see you then.”

  When I got home around midnight, Lisette texted me.

  ANGEL I AM SO PROUD OF YOU! DAVID SAID THAT EVERYTHING WENT SMOOTHLY. I NEED TO HEAR DETAILS FROM YOU. DRINKS TOMORROW? I MISS YOU. XOXO

  “It was pretty uneventful,” I told Lisette the next day at her condo. “We just kinda went there and came back.”

  “Excellent, sweetheart,” she said. “That’s all you need to do. Best job ever, right? You’re going to fly out again in about a week. Same routine. I’ll give you cash when I need you to do the wire transfer.”

  A FEW DAYS AFTER MY first trip to Ohio, I caught up on all my bills and went shopping for groceries. I couldn’t remember the last time my refrigerator had been full. I got my car washed. I bought wine for Brie and me, and some tea candles for our apartment. I put fresh flowers out on our dining room table, in a vase that hadn’t been used in months. Things were turning around, I could feel it. My parents were happy and relieved that I’d found work; my struggle to support myself had been a constant source of concern for them since I’d moved to L.A. It felt fantastic to finally be able to tell them that “I’m fine” financially and mean it.

  My mom had met Lisette in Los Angeles a few times, during semiannual visits. Lisette always insisted on making time to see her, which meant a lot to me. I loved Lisette like a sister, and I wanted my parents to view her as an honorary daughter, to recognize her as an important part of my life, and hopefully grow to love her. My mom was friendly with Lisette the few times they’d met, but she was nice to everyone. My dad never met Lisette, but he was a good listener with an open heart. “It sounds like you girls are having fun, and I’m real glad you met someone you enjoy so much,” he said. My parents always just wanted me to be happy. They never understood why I’d want to live in Los Angeles when I could live in their beautiful Northwest, but they still supported my decision to do so. If they’d had any serious doubts about my friendship with Lisette, they would have had a hard time voicing them. The few times that they raised questions like “Wait, what exactly does she do for a living?” that were tinged with skepticism, I blew up in Lisette’s defense. “You have no idea what her life has been like,” I’d say. “No one understands her because no one can relate to her. Everyone is always judging her.” My parents knew that she was a hot button for me, and that anyone who criticized her in my presence would wish that they hadn’t.

  Lisette asked me not to tell anyone, including my family, even the most menial details of my work for her. “It’s no one’s business,” she said. “You know how private I am.” She was furious when I told her that I’d asked Brie what she thought about the money transfer. “Why the hell would you even tell her that?” Lisette asked, heated. “Do you think Brie is some kind of expert on banking?” I should have known better. I just wanted some outside advice. Lisette pointed out that I tended to overshare, so we agreed that it would be easiest for me to keep things to myself if I told everyone in my life that I’d signed a confidentiality agreement. Figuratively speaking, there was some truth in it.

  ON THE MORNING OF OUR second trip, we met at David’s apartment. Frankie would be joining us this time. Ko greeted me at the door looking exhausted and sweaty, just as he had on the morning of our previous trip. The kitchen was once again filled with suitcases. The Mexican man named Jose, whom I’d met here last time, drifted in and out o
f the room with a casual swagger. When he saw me, he gave a silent greeting with a slight lift of his chin before sitting down to watch a game on David’s couch. Just another day at the office. And these are my coworkers. This is completely normal. As I waited by the door for Henry and Frankie to arrive, I watched Ko as he struggled with a suitcase. He was trying to zip it shut, but from his efforts it seemed as though his goal was nearly impossible. Beads of sweat were visibly dripping down his forehead, so much that he wiped them away before they could obstruct his vision. He stopped, breathed out like he’d just finished a marathon, then bent forward to rest with his hands on his knees. He paused there a moment, then decided on a new approach. He moved the suitcase against a wall and used his foot to hold it in place as he tried again to zip it. I was only a few feet away from him, and I had a clear view of what he was doing. The bag was so overstuffed that where the zipper was undone, I could see six inches inside of the suitcase. I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t.

  All I saw inside was cash; dollars that had been stacked and rubber-banded the way that Lisette’s forty thousand dollars was when she took me with her to the bank. Forty thousand dollars fit into Lisette’s purse. From where I was standing, it looked like cash was the only thing filling the suitcase. When I went backpacking through Europe after high school, my backpack weighed thirty pounds. As a fit eighteen-year-old, it was heavy to me, but I was still able to carry it for five weeks. Now Ko, a grown man, could barely lift this suitcase. I couldn’t imagine how much it must weigh. Sixty, maybe a hundred pounds? Maybe more? And it was all money. I was right. I knew it was money. There was an audible strain on the zipper as Ko was finally able to yank it up all the way. “Hooo!” He let out a sigh of relief. I immediately turned my back to him, hoping that he hadn’t seen me staring.