X-Ray Vision Ch. 12: Exposed

We covered the phones - they would sit at 2, where Jillian sat most mornings. Would share that for now. With Tito at 12, there was only that one seat to fill. This first day, they'd tag-team.

When Jillian gave us the high sign we left them to it, just a minute until the amber light would turn green.

Jillian told the crew, Vietnamese callers go to number 2 if it's available! We have local talent starting today, gonna take up the slack, move some more paper. Folks thought that sounded fine.

I put them out of my mind, let Kelly watch them, let Jillian figure it out, attended to my own shit.

Noticed Tito lagging, in between my calls I'm checking him out, he's extra patient with the clients today, taking a little longer on each, taking a moment to review his paper, turn it in, get back and get settled again.

Was he just well-fucked? I trusted Kelly in that department, certain she could get the job done, make her lover very happy. But no, he wasn't so much stupefied as, well, present! Seeing everything, feeling it all, intensely, like he wanted to engrave this morning in his memory.

I got distracted, a whole series of calls then, all about the same thing - a big college bash on the beach, about fifty young studs drinking, bonfire, got out of hand, burned down a fishing shack, a couple boats. We saw that from home on top of the hill late last night, it lit up the shore. Joked about the extra work coming today.

Easy paper, all attending school, parents documented and available if they got any ideas. Really not bad sorts, just drunk and irresponsible. Gonna have to pay; probably not gonna get any time.

We heard one client give Mrs. Tram some trouble, one of the Vietnamese callers forwarded from Janet in the front row. Mrs. Tram raised her voice, did the pidgin-English thing, hard, shrill. Read them the riot act - you no want to answer, ok. You stay there, I don't care, you decide! Or you answer now, polite! Then we do business!

It was silent in the room suddenly, everybody listening with one ear to see how that ended. A short wait, then Good! answer question, standard rate, send check and will pay Clerk.

Then you appear! You skip, I know your Bà ngoại, she will hear about everything! She will not like that! You will not like that!

Smiles across the room, this lady knew her stuff, knew her community. Pulled that young miscreant's chain, hard, made him understand where he stood. And technically, polite, which was our rule around here.

This was going to work!

Lunch, the newcomers had brought theirs, frugal, not gonna spend hard-earned cash on going out. Laid their cold noodle leftovers and potted meat sandwiches out on the desk, chatting happily between them.

Pity, I had hoped to introduce them around over lunch. Maybe another day.

Down the street at a Vietnamese place, just me and Jillian, not my favorite but Cha Ca to die for. The others thought me crazy, that fish-head put them off but I'm fond of galangal and that crispy rice paper! Yum.

Jillian was well satisfied, smiling and chatting.

"Mrs. Tram did great! And Mrs. Tran? She's smart, quick. Rejected a client, knew he was lying, knew his father was out of town, nobody home to monitor him. Boss says to say Good Job Nick! Your Aunties will work out fine."

I smiled, chewed my fish.

"They gonna take alternate days? How's that gonna work?" There was only the one empty desk.

She nodded. "Mondays and Wednesdays, Mrs. Tran. Tuesdays and Thursdays, Mrs. Tram. Friday, both minding grandchildren after school, I'll cover for now.

"I'm just glad to have any days covered! The Boss is training me in cold-calling law firms. Gonna let me solicit lawyers, lets her concentrate on existing customer relations."

She seemed glad to do that; better her than me. I didn't find lawyers good company. I suppose there were exceptions, but many were pushy argumentative know-it-alls. Part of the makeup of a good advocate, I guess.

I had a brainstorm. "You know what's on Tito's mind? He seems quiet today." I didn't say, slow and absent, don't want to run down my co-workers to the boss.

She looked evasive, figuring out how much to tell me.

That felt not quite right. We'd been totally honest so far; embarrassingly honest! I'd eaten her cooch! Slept naked with her! Seen her cum! Heard her snore!

"Hey! Give! Trying-not-to-lie-to-a-friend, not a good look on you."

She blushed, fooled with her noodles, finally gave in.

"Tito is helping Greg do a recovery. Diving! He's an expert. Gonna use what we find to fund his agency, buy a place to raise our kids. Big place, far enough from the shore, the town, keep them from night terrors, help them adjust when they start..."

I got it, not a dope. A good plan! Must be a bundle, if there's a million in it for Tito.

"So a big haul? How much is left after taxes?" I knew there were a lot of fees around salvage.

She looked evasive again.

"Shit! You aren't going to pay any taxes! A dark op! Nighttime? A submarine? How does this work?"

She shook her head, glad I'd guessed, and she hadn't told me.

"Just going to take a fishing boat out, do some trawling, see what we catch. Then head out someplace further, fish in some vacation spot. Sell the catch.

"Doesn't belong to anybody! Nobody left alive, knows it's there. Nobody will come looking."

That sounded pretty safe. I mean, definitely a crime, lots of risk from that point of view. But Tito was sharp, nobody had to ever know.

I was grinning, looking sassy I guess so Jillian reached across, punched me in the shoulder.

"Ow! No worries! I'm not that fond of lawyers, politicians. Fuck em! if they can't take a joke.

"And this is a special case. Good cause, kind of a public service. More folks like you guys, the world is a better place."

She looked touched, reached out again, squeezed my shoulder.

"You know I love you, right? A friend from the beginning, from the moment we met, I trusted you. You ever need anything, don't be shy, just say it! What I can do, what we can do for you, what a friend can do we'll do."

My turn to blush. "Hey! Girl! You have done so much for me already. Saved me. Got a life now, and a direction. No debt; paid in full!"

She shook her head. "Friends don't work like that, family certainly doesn't work like that. You need me, any time, any place, I'm here. For life!

"It's not about money; that's just, lubrication, to make life go easier, to make things go faster. People matter, people like you!"

I found I couldn't swallow my fish; something wrong with my throat.

Nobody ever needed me, trusted me like this before. I chewed a while longer, concentrated on keeping it together, took a sip of tea. Swallowed hard.

"Ok, pretty intense for lunch. Let's start small. Can I help? No strings: the 'catch' is all yours, got to keep your family sorted, get Kelly and Tito set up. Just, you know, a friend helping."

"Dunno. Can you swim? Dive? Know how to pilot a boat? Tito should have backup."

No, no and no. "When are we talking about?"

"The spring. For, you know, the fish."

I smiled at that, considered, thinking how many months between now and then.

"Sure. By spring, I can do all that. For my friends."

...

Friday

Greg

After lunch, tea with Mr. Nguyen, my grandfather-in law. Jillian walked to work, left me the truck so I could arrive sweet-smelling, calm.

Didn't work, I was sweating, nervous about this one. Not sure what he knew, how he would take it. And his opinion mattered, especially his opinion of me. My life literally depended on it.

Jillian had been funny lately, extra-happy, extra-confident. Pregnancy, maybe, all good.

Making the big decisions, which was how I liked it.

Anything to do with Jillian, my family, well I'm your man, you can count on me.

But money? Business? that's in her wheelhouse, she's great at that. Smart, confident. And she had Renae on her team now, apparently.

I wish I had some of that confidence. I'd brought a bottle of sticky rice wine, the good stuff. Phuong took it politely but set it aside, his attention on me.

"You have something you wish to tell me?"

I nodded, too hard, like a little kid wanting to please.

He was filling the teapot, getting cups from the sideboard, arranging the table.

A ball game was on his radio, in the next room. His team was losing.

His console clock was loud to my ears. A tooth worn on the second hand gear, gave a little lurch every time it passed 12 seconds after, made a t-tock! instead of a tick!

Pay attention Greg! Just say it, no more distractions.

"Jillian and I, we have skills we've not been completely honest about."

He frowned; disagreed. "Gregory, you have every right to keep personal matters between yourselves. That's what being a couple means. I do not judge you."

Right, right. Jillian had come home the other night, soggy with tears and snot, having spilled all to him, about her condition, our family. Phuong was feeling very forgiving right now, gotten what he'd wanted for decades, a growing family. Not gonna begrudge us a secret or two, or a super-power even.

I didn't say much, just did the tea-thing, waited for the tar to form, poured, offered him a cup. He was impatient for once, wanting this part over with quickly.

Took a sip so I could take a sip, then set his cup down.

"I presume? You wish to describe more fully your gift of second sight?"

Oh. Well. Not gonna be the big struggle I thought this might be.

"Yes, grandfather. If I may, I can give you my history?"

He agreed; I told my story. About getting the skill very young; about my mother saving me; about watching her die.

That affected him more than I'd anticipated, shook him. He took a ragged breath, put a hand on my shoulder. And in his eyes, I saw at once, he knew what I'd been through.

The first person, ever, who knew. The terrible loss of those most precious; living with the undeserved guilt; unsure how to spend a life with that heavy stone holding us back, weighing us down.

"We both have people in our lives that give us purpose. You have Jillian, your baby; I have my granddaughters, my great-grandchild."

That was very true, Jillian had saved me. Was my whole life, now, Jill and her family.

He knew that about me too, and knew why, finally.

I could see him relaxing, knowing I was shaped as he was, dedicated completely to keeping our family safe and whole, gladly giving all we had for them.

"What more is there to say? You are one of those cursed to see more than most, to live with the consequence."

He understood that, too!

"I can't tell people what I see, usually. I try to let them know, make up stories, lie a little. Hand out cancer screening fliers when I See something.

"Oh! You are healthy! And Khang! No problems I can see." He had alerted at my last remark; I wanted to head off that concern. He relaxed, nodded thoughtfully.

"How do you select what to do? How do you choose whom to help? When do you intervene?"

"I try to do my best for everyone, be kind to everyone. I get that right, the rest sort of follows!"

That made sense to him. He was more concerned with how I use my skill, than with exactly how it worked. Because, responsibilities, duties were how he arranged his life. The particulars were less important.

We drank our tea in silence for a bit, two damaged men, listening to the radio, following the score, comfortable in our own company.

The ball game was interrupted with a loud tone; one of those public-service announcements, an Amber Alert?

We both put our cups down, listened. A child, missing after school, picked up by a stranger, didn't come home. A description of the car, the girl, the man. A number to call.

"I, uh, I usually go to the freeway overpass on these things, look for the car, the missing child. In case. Never helped yet, never came this way, but I have to try..."

Phuong stood, knocking his chair back, let it fall un-regarded.

"Go! Go!"

He understood, time was precious now, I had to leave, to do my thing, do what I could for that poor girl.

I went.

...

Jillian was at work, fortunately, I stopped to get her, she would drive so I could look, undistracted. It was on the way anyway, I double-parked in front of her building, ignored the elevators, ran up to the second floor, burst in the door, called to her.

She came without complaint or question, just ran to me, seeing I needed her and responding instinctively, without hesitation. I felt that familiar pulse of love, pride.

Nick looked startled, on a call, her eyes following, alerted, let us go, let us do our work, burning to know what was up.

I gave Jill the keys on the stairs, told her the story as we pulled away from the curb.

"Amber alert. Drive to the freeway overpass, gives me a good chance to scan the cars, watch for her. Lan Vu, 12, lives up the coast, picked up at school and never got home. Sedan, grey."

She looked serious, unafraid, doing this thing because it was important to me. Probably not confident I could help; neither was I.

"I've never found anybody, but I have to try. I stay until my head hurts, until I can't see straight."

She nodded, gunned it along the bypass, found the overpass, pulled up to the top, onto the shoulder, in park and set the brake. Left the engine running for now, good thinking.

She was the picture of patience, letting me do my thing, content to sit here. Because it might help a child, that connected with her. She watched the traffic too, not like me but looking for that car.

Traffic was light the first hour, just shoppers, tradesmen, folks with jobs that took them on the road. Not hard to see, none of them were our guy, mostly minivans and utility trucks. Even Jill could see that.

She turned the engine off after that; didn't use much gas to idle but who knows how long we'll be here.

When school let out it picked up. Still minivans but the occasional sedan. I looked in each one, looked for a scared kid, black hair, under five foot, Vietnamese. Probably alone with the man. Nothing.

The third hour, work let out, it became a river of vehicles. Normal around here; a hell of a job to look in each sedan, not miss a single one, check each cabin, trunk, move to the next.

Like bubbles rising from a hot spring, the existence of each car expanded in my sight, exploded, body and engine and passengers and upholstery and drive train, retreated, collapsed just as another approached, expanded into my awareness in turn.

I had my eyes closed now, it didn't matter, I don't have to see the paint job to See what was inside.

I was sweating; my temples were throbbing. Something in my head was aching, not used to concentrating like this, not for this long.

I spared Jillian a glance, just using my eyes; she was worried about me, scared. She's never seen me like this before.

I gave her a little smile.

"Water?"

She had a half-full water bottle on the back floorboards. Humped over her seat back, feet on the dash, leaned down, snagged it. Opened it, wiped the mouth, held it up for me.

My mouth was bone dry; it was heaven.

I felt her hands on my shoulders; she had figured out, she could sit on me, straddle me, it didn't make any difference to what I could see. Massaged my tense shoulder muscles, my neck, it helped a little. The throbbing lessened.

And there she was; a thin stripling of a girl, Vietnamese, pre-teen. Older sedan, in the trunk. Hands and feet bound with duct tape, tape over her mouth. Heart racing, muscles tense like a bowstring.

Scared out of her mind.

"Found her! That way!"

Jillian rolled off me, had the truck started, in gear in seconds, pulled a U-turn, horn blaring. Drove on the wrong side of the bridge, on the shoulder, circumventing the backed-up traffic, startling half a dozen commuters, dodged behind a bus, hit the ramp at speed, horns blaring behind.

"Don't lose him!" She was excited now, heart racing, blood flowing.

"I'm not gonna lose him."

She worked to make up ground lost getting to the ramp, scanning for the sedan, finding openings in traffic, head swiveling, passing aggressively, following my directions.

We got close, just two cars ahead. "Stay back a little, go the speed limit, don't let on that we're following."

"How will we stop him?"

I didn't know. If he didn't stop for hours, we'd be obvious when traffic thinned, the only one following.

If he stopped, some out-of-the-way place, armed, what would we do?

We couldn't leave, wouldn't leave without the girl. That much was certain.

In ten minutes, he turned on his blinker, changed lanes, careful and conservative, pulled onto the ramp.

We took the same exit.

Turned left, over the freeway, to a shopping center. Big box store, smaller stores adjoining. Jillian had made him by now, didn't need my help keeping up.

Into the lot, he cruised past the main store, then a shoe store. Parked two rows back from the entrance of a lawn and garden center.

Jillian drove past, found a spot five cars down, opposite, pulled in, turned the truck off.

"Now what? What's he doing here?"

"Getting some... tools? Nothing in the car, maybe he needs a shovel. We wait for him to go in, get the girl."

We waited, saw him get out, lock the car carefully, glance at the trunk. Went in, casual, unconcerned; we waited until he was inside, in the back, looking at axes, shovels, saws.

I gave her the play-by-play; when I got to the part about axes she turned white.

Kidnapping, murder, axes, shit had gotten real. Jillian was scared, afraid for the girl. Afraid for her baby! Pulse doubling, blood racing, extremities hot!

I wondered if she would be able to function at all.

I got out, approached the sedan. Jillian followed, unsure whether to go with me or bolt. Her entire body on high fight-or-flight, leaning strongly toward flight!

My lockpicks were with me, taped to the inside of my belt. Last time I'd used them? On that brass padlock on the Richardson Hotel fire escape, an eternity ago.

Picking a lock is, for me, opening a lock. A trivial thing, use the tension bar to hold the pins snug, use the pick to slide each into position and turn!

The trunk popped; I opened it wide.

The young Asian girl Lan Vu lay inside, on some rags, almost insensible with fear, eyes white, mouth taped, hands taped, shaking like a leaf, her pants wet, vividly smelling of urine and motor oil.

And Jillian got her shit together, just like that. I saw her seeing this girl helpless, deciding not to be scared, this child needed her, no time for scared.

Nothing was going to stop her from saving this girl; nobody was going to harm Lan Vu. If that man had been here right then, why God help him I believe she would have broken his neck without hesitation, if he got between her and this child.

My lover become a Mom in that moment, pushed me aside, leaned, hauled Lan Vu out of the trunk, must be fifty pounds but lifted her like a feather, like she weighs nothing. Soothing her, the kid's shaking so she can't even walk so Jill just carried her to the truck, cradled in her arms, It's OK! We're going to take you home now, he can't hurt you anymore, I've got you now, shhh, you're going to be fine.

How much can I truly love this woman? I know, now.

I re-closed the trunk, maybe give us a little more time.

What next?

Scanning the car, the glove compartment: sex toys, pliers, a carving knife, blowtorch... the registration!

The guy was at the register now, arguing with the clerk. A price-check! Apparently, the shovel was supposed to be on sale.

I had another minute.

Unscrewing a valve stem cap, I used my tension bar to turn the core, let it pop! out and the tire began wheezing like an asthmatic. Scooped up the stem, tossed it down the storm drain.

Back in the truck Jillian had the girl un-taped, in her lap, holding her like a baby, talking to her. She was beyond comprehending anything Jill said, but her tone was having its effect - the girl unfolded, clutched Jill, put her head on her shoulder, held on for dear life, sobbing now which was probably a good thing.