Chapter 6
ATLAS’S WORDS rang in Bazel’s head all night.
He was gay, and that meant that there were more people in the world like him besides Rashad.
That was an eye-opener. For his entire life, he had thought that he was the only person on earth who had feelings like his, and then when he met Rashad, he figured that there were so few of them that he had to hold onto the one other person he found.
Things between the two of them had been strange.
Not like things between his parents. They were both afraid of being caught, so they were never together for very long, and Rashad was always very bossy and demanding.
Bazel had not liked that. Also Rashad had not liked to talk…
about anything. They were always quiet and sneaky.
Now he knew there were more like him, maybe lots of them, and that he might get to choose and not have to just accept.
But the thing was, he liked Atlas. He was a good man; Bazel was sure of that.
And Atlas was handsome and kind and strong.
He smiled as he lay in bed thinking about him, getting warmer and more excited by the minute.
He closed his eyes as the images came of Atlas in bed, blue eyes deep and inviting. But then he pushed it away and rolled over. All his life he had been taught that people like him were bad, and that thoughts like those that he was having right now were bad.
Evie came in the room and right up to the bed.
He reached out to pet her, and then she left again, her footsteps going back the way she’d come.
What Bazel wished he had was someone he could talk to about this stuff other than Atlas, because he got Bazel’s head all spinny and made his belly flutter.
He just wished he knew what that meant. What all of what he had been told meant.
He had so many questions, but they all got bottled up inside like they all wanted to get out at once, and he didn’t know how to make them behave.
He closed his eyes and tried to go to sleep.
It took a while, even though Bazel was really tired.
Eventually he fell asleep but startled awake a little while later.
Bazel sat upright in bed, listening. Someone was downstairs.
He listened some more, wondering if it was Atlas.
He got out of bed and tiptoed down the hall.
Atlas’s door was open a little, and he could hear him breathing inside.
Evie came awake, and a creak sounded downstairs.
Evie jumped up and hurried out of the room and down the stairs.
Two seconds later, she began barking. He had heard her play barks when they threw the ball in the backyard. This was not like that at all.
“Bazel,” Atlas whispered as he came out of the bedroom with a gun in his hand.
“Go back to your room, close and lock the door.” He slowly went down the stairs as Bazel did as he was told.
Evie continued barking and snarling as he closed the door.
He went to the window that overlooked the backyard, watching to see what happened.
Finally the barking ended and a man, at least that’s what he thought it was, stumbled across the backyard, nearly falling as he reached the gate.
He scrambled to his feet and managed to get out as Evie took off across the yard.
She stopped there, growling and barking before finally returning inside.
“Is it safe?” Bazel asked as he cracked the door open.
“Yes,” Atlas told him, and Bazel hurried down the stairs, almost falling before running to where Atlas and Evie stood at the open back door. “Take her inside. I’ll close the gate.” He cautiously went through the yard, gun ready, before closing the back gate.
“Is Evie okay?”
Atlas joined them. “She’s a good girl. When I got downstairs, she had already ripped part of his leg open and tore into his arm.
This guy is going to be in a sorry state for quite a while.
” Atlas pulled out his phone and made a call.
“I need officers at my house. Someone broke in. Evie did a real number on him, but I need to make a report. They came through the backyard, and I have video.” He hung up.
Bazel put a kettle on the stove. “What are you doing?”
“Making tea.” It was what you did when things got crazy in the middle of the night. Or at least that was what his mother did. “We need it.”
“Okay.” Atlas sat at the table with Evie, petting her head while Bazel heated the water. “You are an amazing girl, protecting us.” He gently soothed her, and Bazel found some tea. He opened the package, smelled it, and wrinkled his nose.
“This all you have? It stinks.”
Atlas chuckled. “I don’t have anything else.”
Bazel kept looking, going from cupboard to cupboard. “Yes,” he said triumphantly. “This.” He showed it to Atlas.
“I got that from one of my coworkers at Christmas. It was a gag gift.”
Bazel stopped. “What is that? A gift to make you… bluh?” He mimed being sick. Sometimes Atlas had the strangest sayings.
“It’s supposed to be a funny gift. Cops drink coffee by the gallon, so one of the guys put in fancy tea as their gift, and I got it.”
Bazel grinned. “You wait. This not make you gag. You see.” He went back to what he was doing as policemen arrived and started asking questions.
They also took what look like dirt from Evie’s paws, and then they asked Atlas a ton of questions.
Bazel put the tea in mugs and handed it to them.
“This not gag tea.” He waited while the policemen sipped, and Atlas smiled at him.
“You win.”
Bazel smiled back. “And I will again.”
“YOU FIND?” Bazel asked after a while, wandering into the office where they were all hovering over the desk. Bazel had gotten tired of waiting for them to be done. Evie had curled up next to him, and he had petted her until his patience had run out. “What you see?”
“The man who came into the yard the other day and the one who broke in tonight. He tried to hide his face, but I got a good picture of him.” Atlas seemed pleased. He turned the screen. “Have you ever seen him before?”
Bazel took a step closer and shivered. “He on boat with us. He the man who give us water and food. I think he nice and help us.” Bazel felt the world shift under his feet.
Maybe no one had really cared. Maybe they only fed them and gave them water so they would arrive alive.
Then they would take them to the city to sell.
“He was just keeping you alive because you had value,” Wyatt explained. “I’m sorry. But did you see anything or hear him say anything?”
“I don’t know. There were men with him sometimes, and they talk all the time. Never stop. But I not always hear them.”
“What did they talk about?”
“Women, lots and lots of women. Cassie, Mary Beth, Catrina, sometimes someone they call White Witch. I not know what they mean. Just that they want to ride them as far as they can. What that mean?” Bazel asked.
“And he didn’t know you understood them?” Atlas asked, and Bazel shook his head.
“I never talk English. I speak Georgian and Russian to women and to men. I jabber like monkey all the time. That what they call us. Monkeys.” He lowered his gaze.
“Do you know his name?”
“They call him Breaker. I know that fake name, but that what they say. I never hear real name. I sorry.” He looked at the picture on the screen again. “Man on ship, the one I see, he no have what you call tattoos. He do.”
“Are you sure it’s the same person?” Atlas asked. “Those are not fresh tattoos. They’re healed.” He went through the moving pictures. “It isn’t like he could get that kind of work done in a few days anyway. That takes a long time in the chair.”
“They same. Look at nose and mouth. They same as man on ship. I know it. Wait, he wear glove on ship. I not see hand.”
Atlas turned to the other police. “Maybe the tattoo was relatively new. Being on a ship, it would be exposed to salt water and plenty of things that could cause infection. What if he got the tattoos in the past few weeks and needed to make sure they didn’t get messed up?
So he wore a glove when on the ship. It was a tanker and wouldn’t exactly be clean. ”
“What does that get us?”
“See if you can get an enlargement of the artwork. Some of these guys are real artists, and we may be able to get an idea where he had the work done.”
“It isn’t likely the guy is from here,” Wyatt said.
“He didn’t even know he was breaking into the house of a cop.
If he had done his homework, he would have been able to get that information pretty easily, especially if he was local.
” He stepped back. “I’m going to forward everything we have to the feds.
Let them do some of the legwork and see what they come up with.
” He crossed his arms over his chest. “What I want to know is what he wanted.”
“Me,” Bazel said. “He have to want me. I see him on the ship coming here. Maybe he think I hear something or see something.”
“Can you draw?” Atlas asked.
“Like pictures? No. Why?”
“Okay. Then think about the times he opened the door. It was dark, you said, but he opened it and gave you food and water. Was there anything you might have seen while the door was open?” Atlas asked. But Bazel could think of nothing.
“All I think about when door open was fresh air and lack of stink. I breathe hard and….” He paused as something flashed into his mind.
“Wait. I remember. It was on third day. Maybe four day. Not sure. “He open door, and I ask to wash. I did it in Georgian but motioned what I want. He get mad, but then closed the door. I think he angry, but then he bring buckets of water and cloth. It cold, but I give one to women and use the other to wash. I feel clean. He not close the door right away, but I hear one of other men say that Juarez will not be happy. Breaker say that he be less happy if we stink and not good for anything.” Then he close up door and leave us alone.”
“That’s good.”