by Andrew Grey
“Probably because he hasn’t been outside for most of the last four years, at least until his rescue. He was brought in for the Super Bowl, as I said. It’s all organized crime, the big families. They bring them in, and once they’re through customs, they tell them that they need to have their passports specially checked. They take their papers, and then they’re stuck. Pavle was probably told he had to work off the cost of his transportation and everything else before they would give him his documents back. Once the Super Bowl was over, he was most likely sold and eventually ended up here. He was always someone’s dirty secret, so he was never outside and always kept hidden. It’s all he knows.” Marie pulled a tissue out of her purse and blew her nose. “I’ve seen a ton of shit, but this always gets to me.”
“How long will he stay out there?” Chris asked.
“My guess is until you get him. See, right now, I think he’s soaking in the sun because he thinks it’s all going to be taken away.” She gasped slightly. “I forgot something in the car.” She hurried away, and Chris followed her to wait at the front door. She returned with a Kohl’s bag. “I got him some clothes.” She handed him the bag. “Leave the tags on them when you give them to him. He needs to know they’re new. That they are for him and not hand-me-downs.”
“Why don’t you give them to him?” Chris asked, handing her back the bag.
“Because he needs to trust someone other than me.” Marie passed it back. “Now let’s go talk to him.”
Pavle jumped when they came outside and hurried to put the chair back in its original place.
“It’s okay. You can leave the chair there.” Chris smiled, and Pavle put the chair back where it had been, then sat on the edge of it.
“Hi, Pavle. We brought you a few things,” Marie said.
Chris handed him the bag, and Pavle set it on the paving stones. He pulled out the jeans and a light green polo shirt, as well as some underwear and socks, all in packages and with tags. “New?” he asked, and damn it all if he didn’t hug the jeans to his chest as though they were precious. Chris shared a look with Marie and wondered if he was ever going to understand what motivated Pavle to do that. “For me?”
“Yes. And Chris is going to take you to get some more clothes.” She handed Pavle a piece of paper. “I have set up some appointments with a teacher who is going to help you with English and writing.” She took his hand. “We are here to help you and to try to see if we can guide you to build a good life. Do you understand?”
“Yes. I no pay. Mister no hurt anymore.” He blinked, and Marie nodded slowly. “Annette say my body mine now.”
“That’s right. You don’t belong to anyone but you.” Marie smiled, and Chris did the same, nodding, relieved.
“I have to go to the store to get some food. Do you want to come with me?” Chris asked, wanting to be clear that Pavle could decide. “We can also stop and get you some more clothes.”
“More?” Pavle asked.
“Yes. We want you to have enough for three or four days,” Marie told him. “Is there anything you need?”
Pavle hesitated and then shook his head before turning to Chris. “Can we get… juice?”
Chris snickered slightly. “Yes. There are lots of different kinds, and you can choose what you like.” He shook his head, looking at Marie. “Pavle has discovered that he likes grape juice.” Chris figured he’d buy a case of the stuff if it was what Pavle wanted.
Marie smiled. “I need to go back to the office. I’m supposed to man it this afternoon. But call me if you need anything, and I will do my best to help.” She said goodbye, and Chris let her out the front door, closing and locking it behind her. He didn’t want Pavle to think he was being held prisoner again, but he also wanted him to be safe, so locking up was a necessity.
“What is that?” Pavle asked, pointing to a number of plants Chris intended to put in the ground. The garden club had held their annual plant sale a week ago, but he hadn’t had a chance to get them planted yet. That had been something he wanted to do today.
“Those are flowers. I want to plant them.” He turned to Pavle, who seemed interested. “Do you want to help?” Maybe this was a way to help break some of the ice between them.
Pavle nodded slowly, a little nervously.
“Okay. I’ll get the tools, and we can do it together.” Chris got small shovels and a rake, setting them aside before placing each of the pots where he wanted it. Then he got a tub for the dirt and showed Pavle how to dig the hole and set the plant in, loosening the soil in the tub before filling the hole once again. The plants he had were pretty hardy, and he offered the shovel to Pavle, who started on the next plant.
Chris watched him out of the corner of his eye as Pavle dug the most exacting hole in the history of gardening and then carefully set the plant inside after removing it from the pot. “Is good?”
“Yes. It’s very good,” Chris praised, and got the watering can to give each of the plants a drink before moving on.
“I like,” Pavle said, moving to the next plant.
Chris half watched him as he worked. Pavle concentrated so much on each thing he did that Chris wondered just what caused that attention to detail. Had he been punished if things weren’t exactly right? He wished he could ask Pavle about his previous life, but then again, the Carlisle Police had already asked him a ton of questions, and he knew the state police were next on the list, and then the FBI once they got around to it. Marie had told him that there was even the possibility that Interpol might get involved. Pavle was going to have to tell his story to plenty of people before this was over, and Chris didn’t want him to do anything he didn’t want to.
“What are?” Pavle asked, pointing to a stack of plastic bags next to the garage.
“Mulch.” Chris reached over and scooped up some of the shredded wood that he’d already put down. “We put it around the plants to help hold in the water. I’ll show you when we have everything in the ground.”
He and Pavle planted the remaining dozen flowers and watered them in. Chris showed Pavle how to spread the mulch, and then they were done. The garden had been freshened up with new blooms and some color.
“You happy?” Pavle asked.
“Yes. Are you?” Chris watched as confusion warred on Pavle’s face. Maybe he hadn’t liked the gardening, and what Chris thought might have been fun was just another awful thing someone had made Pavle do.
“I like.” Then Pavle held up his hands, and Chris understood his question.
“We’ll wash up once we put the tools away. Then we can change into clean clothes. You can try on your new ones, and we can go to the store.”
Once they had everything put away, they went inside. Pavle went upstairs, and Chris heard him in the bathroom. He was taking quite a while.
After locking up the back, Chris went up and found Pavle dressed in his new clothes, the ones he’d worn hanging wet in the bathroom. “I have a washing machine,” he said as gently as he could because he didn’t want to scold him. He figured Pavle had spent years washing his own clothes any way he could. “We can use that to wash clothes. You don’t have to do it yourself like that. When we come back, I’ll show you.” He left the laundry where it was because he didn’t want Pavle to feel bad. He had a feeling there were going to be a lot of surprises in his future, and Chris needed to watch for each and every one of them. It was becoming pretty clear that Pavle had had no exposure to American life the entire time he’d been here, and it was going to be up to him to help introduce Pavle to things a little at a time.
SHOPPING WITH Pavle was a unique experience. When Chris took him to Target, Pavle stepped into the store and froze right near the corral of red carts, staring. His mouth hung open, and he pressed to Chris, shaking, as a large group of people came in.
“It’s all right. They are just here to shop too.”
“Anybody come here?” Pavle asked.
Chris nodded. “Yes. This is a store for everyone. All stores are.” He pulled a
cart out of the stack. “Why don’t we look around and you can pick out some clothes for yourself?”
Pavle put his hands to his chest. “Me choose?” he asked, then broke into another smile. “Okay. I like choose.” Pavle picked out shirts in bright, almost wild colors, two more pairs of jeans, and even orange socks. At first Chris thought Pavle was color-blind, but then he realized that he was just getting what he liked. His world had been drab for a long time, and now it was brightening up.
After their adventure in Target, the grocery store was a completely different experience. Pavle couldn’t believe there was so much food. He walked into the brightly lit store, stopped, stared, and then tears ran down his cheeks. His left hand shook, and Chris hoped he wasn’t having a stroke. He was prepared to get Pavle out of there when Pavle turned to him.
“Where so much food from?” He wiped his eyes.
“This is how food stores are here,” Chris said gently. “There’s a bakery section over there for bread, and there are fresh fruits and vegetables.” He wasn’t sure how much Pavle was understanding, so he showed him through the entire store, taking his time and letting him see everything.
“Everyone here is rich,” Pavle commented, wide-eyed. “So much… everything.”
Chris texted Marie and told her where they were and Pavle’s reaction.
She messaged him back quickly. That’s a normal reaction. Let him see everything, let him pick out fresh things. He probably has had nothing at all since he came here. Please just give him choices and let him taste. Take it slow, and if he gets overwhelmed, be prepared to leave.
Chris thanked her and let Pavle wander. He seemed fascinated with the fresh fruit, lifting oranges and apples, caressing them as though they were gold, and then gingerly putting them back.
“Do you want those?”
Pavle bit his lower lip. “How pay?” he whispered.
“Marie gave me money to get things for you. We can get them.” Chris smiled and grabbed some of the oranges that Pavle had been fascinated with, as well as some of the apples. They picked out vegetables and cheeses, along with bread and other things that Pavle seemed interested in. And, of course, juice of every flavor and color.
When he got back home, Chris was starving. He put the groceries away, and made them a late sandwich lunch, which Pavle ate quickly but with a little less urgency. Maybe, just maybe, he was starting to trust that Chris wasn’t going to take the food away and that he didn’t want anything from him. Though he was pretty certain Pavle was still looking for an angle of some sort in all this.
“We work some more?” Pavle asked, standing in the back sitting room, staring out the windows.
“You can go outside if you want. Please stay in the yard, but you can go out there any time you want.” Chris wasn’t sure how that sounded to Pavle. He didn’t want him leaving the yard for his own safety, not because he wanted to hold him prisoner.
“I can?”
“Yes. Have fun.”
“We plant more flowers?” Pavle asked.
“I don’t have any more now, but I can buy some flowers tomorrow and we can plant them.” Chris made a note to pick up a couple flats of annuals that he and Pavle could plant. If Pavle wanted to be outside and garden, Chris wasn’t going to tell him no. Hell, he’d let Pavle pick out the flowers he wanted. Who knew what he’d end up with, but it didn’t matter. Outside flowers went with everything. They were bright pops of color that the yard could use all summer long.
He took Pavle’s new clothes up to his room, and then joined him out in the yard.
Outside, the air was fresh with a slight chill, because of an amazing breeze. Chris brought Pavle a sweatshirt, and they sat quietly in the yard.
Chris’s phone rang and he answered it. “Deputy Anducci.”
“Chris, it’s Briggs.” His voice rang with concern. “Is Mr. Kasun safe at the moment?” It was a strange way of referring to the situation without mentioning their location, but Chris went with it.
“Yes. Why?” Chris felt a chill race up his back, but he had to keep his voice normal because Pavle was already watching him like a hawk. A second call came in from Marie. He declined it and would call her back.
“I’m just checking,” Briggs said. “There has been an incident at one of the safe houses in town. One of my witnesses is there, and I wanted to make sure your assignment wasn’t jeopardized.”
“No. He’s safe,” Chris reported.
“Okay. I will let you know when I know more.”
He disconnected as another call from Marie came in. “This is Chris.”
“Oh, thank God I caught you.” He’d thought Marie immune to drama, but apparently something had gotten to her. “The safe house where we picked up Pavle yesterday has burned to the ground.”
“What?”
“Yes. They left five gallons of gasoline outside, so when it went up, it blew the building off its foundation before engulfing it in a fireball. The other residents got out, except for one who was blown out into the yard. She’s in emergency now. I need to check on her and everyone else, but I thought you should know.” Marie seemed to take the welfare of those in her care very seriously. Chris liked her even more, if that was possible.
“Okay. Thank you.” He got up and slowly went into the house to leave Pavle in peace. “Have the police said anything about motive or who might have done this?”
“Not yet. But it was right outside Pavle’s room, and….”
He kept calm, his training kicking in. “We can’t jump to any conclusions. Granted, it is suspicious that this happened the day after we took him out. How long had he been there?”
“Three days. They’re working quickly now. The first safe house had people watching it and we had to move everyone. The second was threatened within a few days of Pavle arriving, and now this. I know it’s not definitive, but let’s not let common sense take a breather either. I know in my heart that someone is after him, but I’m not sure why exactly. I don’t have access to what he’s told the police so far, but he has told me what happened to him.”
“I need to get a look at his statement,” Chris said. “There has to be something. If he’s been left alone for years but now that he’s in protective custody, he’s got someone scared, then there’s something locked inside his head that they’re afraid he’s going to tell.” His mind spun as he thought of possibilities. “Or he’s already told the police something and they’ve found out.” Either option meant there was someone inside the department who was dirtier than a pig in slop. Pun intended. Access to that information was heavily restricted, and even the database was coded so that very few people had access to all the information. It would be easy to verify and discount them.
“Okay. I wanted to let you know.” She huffed out a shaky breath, definitely rattled.
He shook his head even though there was no one to see it. “What do you think I should tell Pavle? Part of me thinks he deserves to know what is happening, and another screams to protect him from all this. But if I do, am I being like the people who held him?”
Marie grew more serious. “You, Deputy Chris, are nothing at all like the man who held him. That kind of man would never think of him in any way. He is narcissistic to the extreme, and everything is about him. No doubt about that. It’s all about what he wants and has nothing to do with Pavle or his welfare. He was property, pure and simple.” She paused. “My advice is to think about it. You’ll know what to do. But my general rule is that secrets suck.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
She ended the call, saying that she had another coming in.
Chris hung up, then watched Pavle sitting in the garden for a bit. He really didn’t know what to do, and he didn’t want Pavle to feel trapped, but this was real. Even if Pavle wasn’t the reason for setting the safe house on fire, there was that chance, and that meant Chris needed to be extra vigilant.
He returned outside, the cooler evening air coming in as the wind began to change. “Do you wan
t to help me make dinner?” Chris asked. Pavle could sit out here as long as he wanted, but Chris hoped he was willing to join him.
“Okay.” Pavle stood and reluctantly came inside.
Chris locked all the doors for the night and then got out the things for dinner. “Have you ever had scalloped potatoes?” he asked, and Pavle looked at him like he was speaking Greek. “Can you make salad?”
Pavle nodded, and Chris set him up with the makings and a bowl, letting Pavle tear some lettuce while he thinly sliced the potatoes and cut up the ham. Then he made the light cream sauce and handed Pavle a knife to cut the tomatoes.
Pavle looked at it and then at him, and Chris knew something had clicked inside him. It was like the light went on in his eyes and some additional part of him believed what Chris and Marie had been telling him. Chris had just given him a weapon, something none of his captors would have ever done.
“I cut tomato.”
“Yes. Just be careful.” Chris watched as Pavle cut up the tomato with the same precision he did everything else. A cucumber was next, then radishes.
Chris put the casserole dish in the oven and helped Pavle finish the salad with some shredded cheese. “In case you were hungry, I thought we could eat the salad now and have the rest when it’s done.” Chris had figured out that Pavle was always hungry.
“We watch TV?”
Chris nodded, got out the salad dressings, and let Pavle taste them before choosing which one he wanted. Then he portioned the salads out, dressed them, and they went into the living room to sit on the sofa. Chris brought them each some water and turned on the television. “Did you ever get to watch television… before?”
“Sometimes. But mostly when they not see me. I watch television through the window sometimes.” Pavle took a big bite and hummed. “This good.” He ate some more and continued making yummy sounds. “I no get… these.” He pointed to the lettuce, and Chris figured he meant fresh things. “Is real good.” He finished his salad, and Chris took care of the dishes.
