Ensnared

The white zip-tie cut into Jeff's wrist. He couldn't breathe well with the duct tape over his mouth. Jeff sat on the floor in his white pants, white shirt, and brown belt. Smudges of dirt clung to him. His shoes had been taken and his tan socks had holes in the toes. The dirt of the room clung to his sweaty skin. Light slanted in through slit windows at the top of the wall, the angle told Jeff that it must be around three o'clock. The smell of urine came from a blue bucket, in the corner. He heard people's voices speaking in Spanish, and he remembered that he was in Mexico.

The back of his thigh twinged, as he tried to stand. A picture flashed in his mind of him walking on the street, and a man kicking him in the back of the leg, knocking him to his knees, then a second man punching him in the face and everything going wonky.

The turquoise metal door opened, and Jeff's dry eyes hurt to look up and see who came in. He could see past the man to a courtyard, and the back of a house painted lime green. Small puffy clouds passed overhead in the blue sky.

The door slammed shut and his body tensed. He strained to focus on the man in a black mask, checkered shirt, blue jeans and cowboy boots. The sand on the floor ground under his boots as he stepped closer and squatted down. The masked man spoke quietly in plain, unaccented English, "For two hundred and fifty dollars this nightmare can be over for you."

Jeff could smell the man's putrid breath. He could see the stitching on the wrestling mask. The mask had been turned inside out. Jeff decided to call his captor the Mask. The Mask stood and paced around the room. "We are not greedy men, all we ask for is a quick transaction." The sand under his boot screeched as he turned. "Do you understand?"

Jeff nodded his head.

"You pay, you don't talk to the police, and you leave Mexico immediately."

Jeff felt shame and fear, but he nodded his head. In that moment he felt absolutely defeated.

"If I take this tape off your mouth, you will talk quietly. If you scream, I will give you something to scream about... yes."

With a black-gloved hand, the masked man pulled the duct tape back.

Jeff breathed easier.

"Do you have someone to deliver the money?" asked the Mask.

"Yes, my wife."

The Mask left the room and returned with Jeff's cell phone. "You call your wife and tell her to bring the money to the Western Union on Calle Tejón, next to Revive, and give it to the boy wearing your LA Dodger's baseball cap." He handed Jeff the phone.

Jeff tapped the icon of his wife on the phone, then tapped the icon to put her on speaker phone.

"Jeff, Jeff where are you?"

"Helen, I am being held ransom. I need you to bring 250 dollars to the Western Union."

"Jeff, I can't do that."

"Why?"

"I got on a plane, and flew home."

"I need you to come back down here and bring 250 dollars."

"I can't do that, it's too dangerous. Think what you're asking of me, to risk my life? What if they kidnap me?"

The phone went dead and Jeff couldn't think anymore. An image flashed in his mind, at an outside bar and a glass with an umbrella drink being thrown at his head. "You slept with my best friend!" That's why he had been walking, because Helen had taken the rental car and left. Jeff's mouth was dry. The masked man held out his hand and Jeff gave him the cell phone.

The man left the room again and returned with a bottle of water. When the door was open Jeff could hear the voices of children.

"Here, drink this," the Mask opened the bottle and handed it to Jeff. "What hotel did you stay at?"

Jeff drank as much of the water as he could. He was afraid that his captor would take it back. "Royal Cancún."

"Oh, not good. The price just went up to 500 dollars," said the masked man. "Do you have a friend who can wire you 500 dollars?"

"Why 500 dollars?"

"The risk just went up. If it was an easy transaction. Then we take the money and run. But if there is risk then we have to charge a higher price. The Royal Cancún is 750 bucks a night, you can afford to give me 500. I am not a greedy man."

"Yah... yaah, I see."

"Jeff, call your friend and have him wire you the money to Western Union." The Mask handed the cellphone back to Jeff.

Jeff tapped the icon for Matt. Matt had money. But the call went directly to voicemail, "Leave a Message!"

The Mask shook his head.

An image flashed in Jeff's head of Matt handing him 2,500 buck then regretting it. Jeff never paid Matt back. Jeff tapped the phone, and the call ended.

"Do you have someone else?"

"Yah," and Jeff tapped the icon of Bill.

"Hey, Buddy. How are you doing?"

"Bill, I need a favor. Can you wire me some money?"

"Jeff, you know I'd do it, but I'm short of cash."

"Bill, I am being held hostage. I need you to pay the ransom. It's 500 bucks. Can you send it to the Western Union in Cancún?"

"500 bucks, is this a joke? You're worth more than that."

"Bill, just send the money. This is serious."

"Like I said, I don't have the cash. Can Helen send it to you?"

An image flashed in Jeff's mind of Sandra lying beneath him, her auburn hair splayed out on the pillow. Sandra was Helen's best friend and Bill's wife.

The masked man made a slashing sign across his throat and held his hand out for the phone.

Jeff ended the call and handed the phone to the Mask.

"Jeff, if you don't mind me saying this, you don't have good friends."

"What happens now?"

"I take you to a friend of mine, and I sell you onto someone willing to take on more risk than I am willing to do. This is a business. It is how I make my living."

The way the masked man said it, it sounded reasonable. Nothing personal just business.

The Mask left the room and returned with a burlap bag and pistol in his belt. He put the bag over Jeff's head and pulled him up by the arms, helping him stand. Jeff's legs were stiff and his bruised leg was sore. Jeff heard the slide of a gun being pulled back. Then the Mask pushed Jeff towards the door.

Jeff could feel that the sun had faded. It was cooler and it was nearly dark. He could hear the Mask open a screen door, and as they entered the building he heard the voice of a woman and the chatter of a TV set. He heard the sizzle of food frying and the scent of flour. This must be the Mask's wife. As they passed out of the kitchen, Jeff heard the elastic snapping sound of masked man pulling off his mask, and say something in Spanish. Then he prodded Jeff to walk forward guiding Jeff with one hand on the back of his neck through the house.

"What about my ATM card? I could make a withdrawal. I have credit cards. I could do a cash advance."

"Too dangerous. I already sold them. Your bank account is empty and your credit cards have been maxed out."

"Haven't you made enough money?"

"Not enough, one more transaction."

They pushed through another door, and Jeff could hear traffic. Cars drove by. He was in the street. Jeff flung himself backwards into the masked man, knocking him into a wall. He pulled the bag off his head and was face to face with the man -- black hair, square jaw, mustache, and dark eyes. Jeff smashed the man's face with both hands like he was swinging a baseball bat and turned and ran like he was running for first base.

"The man yelled, "And I have been so nice to you," and fired a shot.

Jeff ran through a wrought-iron gate, down the wide streets lined with small one story houses in pastel colors. Panic drove him. He must have run four blocks, then he was so out of breath that he could not run. He saw a little store with a painted red brick second floor and white on the bottom. There was a sign that said, "Seven" in bright orange and black letters. He hobbled into the store. He startled the girl at the counter. "Police, I've been kidnapped," and place his zip-tied hands on the counter.

***

The station looked like an Ice Cream store with its blue and white motif. It had dark blue graffiti spray painted on it. It was lit by lights under the eaves and by a street lamp. Inside was a counter and a desk behind it. Jeff sat the desk. The police captain gave him a cup of coffee in a paper cup. The captain sat opposite him in a black short sleeved uniform, and a big gold badge. He put is beret on the desk. "Mr. McCarthy, your captors have escaped. When we went to the house, and the rooms were empty."

The radio chattered. Another police officer came in from a black, Dodge Ram truck. He wore a bullet proof vest and boots. He handed the captain a plastic trash bag. Out of the bag the captain pulled Jeff's shoes, his smashed cell phone, his keys, wallet, and the black mask. The mask had a comic face, with big green eyebrows and a clown's big smiling lips. It was like it was laughing at him.

Jeff asked, "Can we get DNA from the mask?"

"Please, this is Mexico. We don't have the money for that. Keep it as a souvenir."

"What about my description?"

"This is Mexico. You have described a stereotype of half the country. You've been watching too much TV. Go home, Mr. McCarthy. There is nothing to be done here."

End