Shelter(19)

In a parking lot next to an empty dollar store, Dell searched the glove compartment and removed a small flashlight and the leather folder with the paperwork for the car. He tore open one of the envelopes and carefully emptied it onto the folder. The contents looked like little shards of glass, crystalline and white. Jin had never seen anyone do drugs before; he tried not to stare as Dell crushed the shards with the end of the flashlight, turning them into a fine powder. He wondered if Dell was going to inject himself with the needle he’d bought, but he snorted the powder up his nose instead, using one of the rolled-up twenties like a straw. Afterwards, Dell became animated, almost cheerful. He fiddled with the radio all the way back to Marlboro, stopping to comment on the songs he liked and stabbing his finger at the dashboard when he didn’t.

When they returned to the house, Jin heard Mae crying upstairs. He knew what it meant; it was the reason he’d been so frightened to leave her. He tried to run toward the sound of her voice, but Dell tackled him from behind and dragged him into the kitchen. He tied him up again, pulling his arms back so tight, his shoulder popped out of its socket. Then Dell disappeared and all Jin could hear was the sound of footsteps overhead, the nauseating creak of the bed.

Mae tried to fight Nat off at first, but this only made him angry. He was drunk, and the more she fought, the more he hit. It happened three times—always with him, always with her hands and feet tied to the bed. Sometimes Dell sat on the other bed and watched, but he seemed more interested in his drugs. After Jin took him to the ATM, he walked into the room and gave Nat a small white ball. Cocaine, she guessed, because of the way Nat kept scratching at it, sniffing up the dust from the hand mirror on her bureau. The drugs made him meaner. He’d hit her for no reason—for crying, for not crying, for looking at him, for not looking at him. Nothing he said or did made sense. Twice, he picked a fight with Dell, who kept injecting himself every few hours. That stuff’s going to wreck you, Nat said. My problem if it does, Dell snapped. Back and forth they went, shouting at each other about drugs, money, the bind they were in. Nat called his brother useless; he blamed him for their luck.

They left Mae tied up overnight, using her scarves and the sashes from her robes. The knots they made wouldn’t loosen no matter how hard she tried. Mae didn’t recall sleeping that night. She just listened to them wandering through the house, opening things, breaking things, wondering aloud if there was any way to pawn the jewelry and furs and not get caught like the last time. She learned they’d been planning the robbery for weeks, but everything was going wrong. Nat kept calling their house a bust. They needed cash, straight cash. They must have fallen asleep talking about it because she didn’t hear anything for hours, not until the sun was coming through the window. At first, it sounded like a mouse in the walls, a scratching noise down below. Jin heard it too, from the kitchen. Someone was using the key in the back door, fumbling with the sticky lock. He held his breath, grateful that all of this might be over soon. And then he realized it was a Friday, a cleaning day.

Marina looked irritated when she walked into the kitchen, as if she thought they’d had a party the night before. When she saw Jin tied to the chair, she started shouting at him in Bosnian. He wanted her to take the tape off his mouth so he could warn her, but she went for his hands first, crowing like a rooster the entire time. It didn’t take long for the men to come running, stumbling over themselves, hungover and strung out. Still, Marina was no match for them, not even the smaller of the two. Dell took her arms while Nat picked up her legs, and they started to carry her off this way until Marina managed to free one of her feet and kick Nat square in the jaw. The look in his eyes—Jin thought he might kill her right there in front of him. Instead, he reared his fist back and swung with the full force of himself, knocking her out cold. He chuckled afterwards, massaging his chin. He seemed amused with himself as he slapped her breasts from side to side.

Marina had loosened the tape around his wrists, enough to grab on to the end if he curled his fingers up at just the right angle. After they took her upstairs, he worked on the tape all morning, peeling it back, centimeter by centimeter. Only once did he stop, when Nat came down to look for food. He opened the refrigerator and rummaged inside, knocking over jars and containers until he found what he wanted. Then he just stood there, studying Jin while dipping rolled-up pieces of bread into a jar of mayonnaise. He ate three pieces this way while Jin sat perfectly still, the loose end of tape coiled up behind him in his fist. Playtime with the girls has been fun, Nat said, but I’ve got to figure out how to make some money out of you. The way he said it, Jin knew that once he got his money, he’d kill them all.

He continued working after Nat went back upstairs, undoing his hands first and then trying to loosen the tape around his ankles. They’d used so much of it. Every time he peeled some away, it made a snapping noise that he was certain they could hear. He was so close to freeing himself when Dell found him and started shouting. Jin wasn’t sure who hit him first, but the force of the blow sent his chair sailing backwards, and Dell started kicking him as he lay on the floor. Not the face, Nat shouted. Not the face—I need him looking right. Jin didn’t know what this meant. He just prayed for it to be over, prayed as he’d never prayed before. When Nat took a kitchen knife from the block, he closed his eyes and waited for the worst, but all he felt was a tug on his ankles as Nat sliced away his bindings. Then they marched him to the upstairs bathroom. Wash your face, Nat shouted. And put this on. He threw a clean white shirt at him, a pair of pants, and a pair of shoes. Jin did as he was told, trying to move as fast as he could. Comb your hair too, Nat said. We’re going to the bank.