“Did Evie give him dog sickness?” Bazel asked. “That happen at home sometimes.”
“I don’t think so. She ripped into him pretty well, and dog’s mouths aren’t exactly clean. If he just bandaged it up, then it’s likely to have gotten infected. They didn’t get a chance to treat him for long before he escaped. Either way, I don’t think he’s going to be back here anytime soon. If he survives, he’s going to be very sick for quite some time.”
“So you think I’m safe?” Bazel asked, almost scared of the answer.
“I don’t know. I wish I had more to tell you. So much of this is out of my area of expertise. The federal authorities are looking into what was happening out of the port in Florida, and they are monitoring the ship you were on, but so far they haven’t told us of anything they found.” He sounded frustrated.
“The best thing is that I am safe and that I can have a life here. That is what I wanted in first place. I know you want to find out who these men are, but if they leave me alone and not try to hurt me, then I can live. You know?”
Atlas seemed surprised. “Don’t you want to get the people who did this to you?”
“I did this to me. I paid money to be brought here. This my fault.”
“But they were going to sell you. They would have gotten you to the city and used you. I don’t know what for, but you could have been someone’s gardener in Connecticut… or a rent boy.”
Bazel was confused. “What is this rent boy? What he rent?”
“Himself to anyone who pays the money.”
It took Bazel a few seconds to understand what Atlas was telling him. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “That’s women.” He must have been joking.
Atlas drew closer. “I’m afraid not. You could have been set up in a tiny room where men would pay to use you. You’d be locked up except for when it was time for you to make money. These people who brought you were not nice at all. Why do you think they kept you in a box on the ship and stuck you in the back of the truck? They didn’t want anyone to see you. That way they could do whatever they wanted with you when you got here.”
Bazel felt his fists ball and anger rise from deep inside. “Then I kill them. I not weak and stupid. I stand up for myself.” There was no way he was going to allow that. Bazel may have been shameful in the eyes of his family, but he knew who he was, and that was something he was not going to do.
“They might have killed you,” Atlas said. “Think about it. All they would have had to do was close up the box on the ship and never open it again. You would have died of thirst on the way across the ocean. It’s happened before. Like I said, these are not good people. They hurt people and they prey on them. I want to stop that so no one else goes through what you did. Do you understand?”
Bazel slowly nodded. “Okay. I understand. But I already try to help. You know this.”
“I do.” Atlas seemed tired. “I just want you to know what could have happened. And what someone might do if they found you. These people don’t care what they do to anyone else. It’s all about making money.”
“So we find and keep others safe. Maybe I can ask the women if they see anything. I speak same language. Do you think Chris can fix it up?” He had heard that term on TV.
“I’ll ask her. Right now, we need to make dinner. I’m really tired, and I have to get some sleep because I have to be towork early. Evie and I have another training session. There is a grocery store we will be training in. They want to make sure that Evie will perform properly even when she’s surrounded by food.”
“She will. She best girl.” Bazel sat, and Evie approached him. He gave her pets, and she rested her head against his leg. “I bet she can find anything anywhere. She very smart, and she kept us safe from bad men when they come.” He petted her some more. “You very good dog.”
“Yes, she is. Now I need to get started with dinner. I was going to make grilled cheese and soup. It’s rainy and a little chilly today.”
“How do you grill cheese?” Bazel asked, his mind conjuring images of cheese dripping into the fire.
“I’ll show you.”
He followed Atlas into the kitchen and watched as he got out bread and put cheese on it, then butter. “Oh, sandwiches with cheese. Why didn’t you say so?” Sometimes what they said made no sense at all. He shook his head. “What that?” He pointed to the can.
“Tomato soup. I start with the canned kind, and then I add some things.” He opened the can, and Bazel was starting to wonder just what this dinner was going to taste like. His mama never made soup out of a can. He remembered his mother’s soups when he was small. Whenever it got cold, she made them. They were warm in temperature and spice and always made his belly feel like he was being heated from the inside. They were special… with no cans involved. Still, he had learned to trust Atlas… at least for now. But he seemed dubious until Atlas placed a bowl of red stuff in front of him with a toasty sandwich on a plate.
He ate the grilled cheese first and smiled. It was crunchy, warm, a little buttery, and good. So he ate half of it before tryingthe soup. He tasted it but wasn’t sure if he liked it. Bazel ate some more and then had a bite of the sandwich. They seemed to go together and didn’t taste as bad when he had one after the other.
“You don’t like it?” Atlas asked. Bazel shrugged, and Atlas gave him another sandwich. “You don’t have to eat it if you don’t like it. Just have some more sandwich.” That concept blew his mind.
“But it’s food. You always eat what is offered.” Not to would be rude, wasteful, and ungrateful, things he had always been taught were bad.
“You don’t need to eat something you don’t like. It’s all right. Just eat the sandwich, and if you want more, I can make you another one.” He sat down with a bowl and a plate of his own. “I’m serious. It’s really okay.”
Bazel wasn’t so sure, but he ate the sandwiches Atlas had made for him, while managing to have a little more of the soup. “I always hear that America is really rich.”
“It isn’t that. It’s just that, why eat things you don’t like? That would be mean, and there’s no point in it. Just enjoy what you do like, and maybe tomorrow you can cook something.”
