Sold Into Freedom - 12. Chapter 12

Robert and Andrew had expected Maeve to react with horror to the news the writer brought her, but she hadn't. Much later, Robert would say to Andrew, "We should have known better."

Maeve listened with a heart that held only love and compassion. "Aw, the poor lad. Of course, I’ll not say anything. I’ll help if I can." Maeve’s common sense and organized nature took over. "When will he arrive? What will he need? I think it best we sort that out now, with the weather coming."

"Aye, Maeve," Robert was saying. "You’re right. We need to think of practical things for him as well."

"Aye, well. I’ll make us a pot of tea. I've got a list here, let’s get some things down on that."

The trio sat drinking tea and brainstorming the possible needs of their upcoming guest.

Once they’d finished jotting things down, Andrew checked his email. "So, they estimated that Matthew will be here a week tomorrow. They’ll come by sea and deliver him to our dock. They’ll let me know the time once they are closer."

Robert nodded. "Okay, we know the approximate day he’ll be here. Andrew, get some clothes together. You best come back with me and we’ll get some shopping done and arrange for it to be delivered."

"Okay, Dad." Andrew pursed his lips. "What about Mum?"

"She’ll have to know. We can’t hide this from her." Robert continued, "She’ll say nothing about it."

"Okay." Andrew left his father and housekeeper in the kitchen to pack for a short visit home.

Maeve watched her employer leave. "Can we get into trouble over this, Robert?"

Robert sighed. "I suppose so. I mean buying a human being is illegal. However, I hope we can avoid trouble as long we do things right. And Matthew agrees."

"Let’s hope he does then, eh?"

"Yes. Let’s hope so." Robert reached over to pat Maeve’s hand. "Should it go badly, we’ll make sure they know you had no part in this. Matthew was a visitor to you."

⸛

Father and son flew to Edinburgh later that afternoon. As they disembarked the airplane, they discussed plans.

"I suggest telling your mother tonight, and afterwards have dinner and relax. Tomorrow is soon enough to purchase what's on the list." Robert looked at his son as they made their way to the terminal. "What do you think?"

What have I gotten myself into? Andrew walked on in silence. Shit – all of us into? If I could turn back time. What if you could? What would be different? What?

"Andy? Are you all right?"

"I’m okay, Dad. I’m just feeling, I don’t know, guilty for dragging you and now everyone into this mess."

Robert switched his carryall to his right hand and grasped Andrew’s shoulder with his left. "You couldn’t do this on your own. You also couldn’t leave that boy there. You told me this market is never in one place for long, so they cannot stop these people. They will know that you followed your heart if we call in official help. Now, people who love you and believe in you are following theirs. It'll be all right, Andy."

"It’s insane!"

"Aye, totally insane, Son. But here we are." Robert stopped and faced Andrew. "We made this choice; we’ve made a plan, and now we must follow it. Right or wrong, we need to save that young man."

Robert, followed by Andrew, walked into the terminal through the automatic door. "Now, let’s get a taxi and get home. I left the car for your mother."

⸛

"Nay, Doreen, don’t worry about dinner. I’m going to order some of the delicious food from The China House. I’m in the mood for that."

Doreen stared at her husband. "You might have let me know before I went shopping. But the beef will keep until tomorrow."

"Sorry, my love." Robert kissed his wife’s cheek. "I just thought with Andy here, it might be nice to give you a break."

"Well, it will be nice for a change, and the food is good." Doreen smiled at her other half.

Andrew sat in the living room watching his parents. How am I going to broach this subject with Mum? She’ll flip. The writer sighed, again feeling the weight of his decisions and choices.

Doreen and Robert sat down; they discussed some family matters, as well as Andrew’s sister, Esme.

"She and Derrick are having a baby. I'm going to be a grandmother!" Doreen's smile couldn't have been any wider.

"I knew she wanted kids, so that’s great news. Good for them." Andrew said. "Uncle Andy sounds pretty good." He grinned.

"Yes, I think I’ll enjoy the role of Granddad." Robert reached for Doreen’s hand. "Right, Mother?"

"Stop that right now!" she slapped him playfully. She stared at her husband and then, glancing at her son, said, "Don't think you're fooling me…either of you."

"Aw, love, what do you mean?"

"You and your son. The pair of you are hiding something. What is it? Spit it out."

Andy and Robert exchanged glances. Robert got to his feet.

"I'll pour us all a wee dram. I think we're going to need it." He moved to the sideboard where the liquor was stored. "I certainly do."

Thanks, Dad! Andy looked at his mother. But this is my doing. After a moment, he said, "Mum. There's something, but I'm here with Dad to tell you. It's why I came."

"Then get on with it … I don’t want to hear it after dinner."

"Sure, of course not. Well—"

"First of all!" Doreen interrupted her child. Her expression revealed her fear. "Tell me you’re not ill … not dying."

"Oh, Mum! No … no it’s nothing like that. I’m not ill or anything, neither is Dad."

Doreen released the breath she’d been holding. "Mother Mary, thank you! All right, tell me then."

After a deep breath, Andrew told his mother the story. All of it, from beginning to end.

"So, then I called Dad because I was freaking out. We made the plan I told you about, including me coming here to tell you."

Doreen had said nothing during Andrew’s revelation. She turned to Robert and stared at him. "You let him do this?"

"Let him? He called me after the fact. D’ya really think I’d let him?" Robert got to his feet once more. He paced. "I’d not have let him at all. And I wonder what kind of person that makes me." Andrew’s father stopped for a moment. "But, my love, what’s done is done. This is happening, and we must keep it quiet amongst ourselves. We need to find a way to handle it quietly. And most importantly, we have to help that poor young man."

"I don’t believe this." Doreen got to her feet. "I’m going to have a long, hot shower and think. Order dinner…they aren’t quick there. Have them deliver it."

Andrew put his head in his hands. I've let them down again. It hurts them, the choices I've made. Especially Mum, especially her.

Doreen MacCabe left the living room and climbed the stairs to their bedroom. The shower in the ensuite had often been her saving grace. It was a haven of privacy and peace when she needed time to think and to herself.

She removed her clothes carefully and then padded into the bathroom. She fiddled with the hot and cold knobs until the temperature was right. After stepping in, she let the water sluice over her for ten minutes before moving.

There are times I wish my life had been different. That I'd not married and not given up my dreams for them. Tears began falling from her eyes as she thought about these hidden things. Life would have been my own then. I could have travelled more and been more than a wife and mother.

She picked up the lavender-scented soap and a pink washcloth. Slowly, Doreen rubbed the soap over the cloth to lather it. Then, she proceeded to wash herself. My body isn't what it was. It's a map of my life. It shows my two children, scars from my childhood falling from my bike, scars from falling and scaling that tree, and the indentation from my wedding ring.

She poured the shampoo and washed her hair. I love my children, but now, Andy brings us this. I don't want to deal with this. I don't want to keep secrets. I don't want to help this boy, but I wonder how frightened his mother is. I bet she cries in the shower when she's alone. She's why I'll do this. Doreen rinsed herself off and rubbed conditioner into her hair. She's part of it, but I'll do it for them and me, as Robert said. What kind of person would I be if I didn't?

After a final rinse, Doreen shut off the water. At the same time, Robert tapped on the door.

"You all right, love?"

"Yes. I’m nearly done. I’ll be down in about ten minutes."

"All right. Food should be arriving about then." After a short pause, Robert said, "I love you, sweetheart."

Doreen smiled. "I know, and I love you as well."

⸛

Ahmet was terrified. He’d been kept locked in his room for weeks. They brought him food and water once a day. They’d taken his phone, computer, television, and radio. He tried to read his few books, but his mind drifted constantly. He thought of Matt, the boy he loved, and what was happening to him. And he thought of himself and what was to come.

He’d watched them take Matt away. He’d begged them to take him too. Pleaded with them and promised never to speak of any of it. They only wanted to live together quietly.

Ahmet thought about Matt. I will never forget the haunted look in his beautiful eyes as they took him from me.

Kanaan had laughed when he'd begged. The man had called him horrible things and promised he'd get the end he deserved.

"When? When will I?" Ahmet paced in his tiny room, now his cell. He’d taken to talking to himself aloud. "Why don’t they just kill me? Get it over with?"

Days later, the engines of the yacht fell silent. The prisoner heard the call to drop anchor, and his heart sank.

Ahmet peered out the small porthole but could see only water. He then knelt and prayed, knowing this was likely his final day.

Please forgive me. Care for my family and Matt.

When the door opened, he was ready. They will not see me afraid. Surely Allah will know of the goodness in my heart.

Two men marched him to the swim platform. Some distance away, a small rocky outcropping stood alone, surrounded by miles and miles of empty ocean.

One of the pair held a large curved blade just beneath his throat. Ahmet's heart pounded so loudly; he was sure that the sailor holding him could hear.

The trio waited in silence for Kanaan. Only the gentle lapping of water against the swim platform could be heard.

Finally, Kanaan arrived. He smiled at the prisoner before turning to look over the water. He opened his arms and said, "Well, we’ve arrived at your gravesite, Ahmet. Beautiful, isn’t it."

Ahmet felt ill and broke out in a cold sweat. "Why can’t you just let me go?"

Kanaan smiled and addressed him as if he were a child. "We can certainly let you go over there, but death will be slow and painful. I thought a quick death would be preferable."

"I served you well. Why are you doing this?"

"Because you lied to me and stole what was mine."

"What did you do with Matthew? Is he safe?" Ahmet could not hold back his tears as he thought of Matt.

"He’s alive somewhere if that eases your pain."

Ahmet breathed a sigh of relief. "Yes, it does. Thank you."

Kanaan looked down at the swim platform. "Is there anything more you wish to say?"

Ahmet gazed at his employer. "I love him and wish to be with him. It just happened; it wasn’t done on purpose. I would never steal from you."

His master grunted, and the servant pushed away the guard and fell to his knees at Kanaan's feet. "I served you faithfully and well for many years, and I think I deserve to be set free."

Kanaan turned his back on the three men and stared across the vast ocean. We're in the middle of the Pacific. We could leave him on the rocks. He may find a way to survive until someone visits there. I should kill him, but still, after these many days, I find I have no desire to. The ship owner turned back. "It is true, but for this, you have served me well." Kanaan's cold, flat eyes searched Ahmet's fear-filled ones. "What guarantee do I have that you will not discuss this?"

"You have my life. I know I cannot stop you by telling anyone." Ahmet stared into his old master’s face. "I would go home to my family; tell them I grew tired of this life and left your employ. You know them and where I come from. I would become a baker, like my father and work there. I have no reason to talk of this place or you." Ahmet stopped and then met Kanaan’s eyes once more. "As well, what I am is an abomination. Others knowing about you means they learn about me, and this would guarantee my death. No, I will hide myself in my family, hide that part of myself from them. You are safe, Master."

Kanaan nodded. "Very well. But take heed Ahmet. One wrong word will end your life." He turned away and watched the water lap against his yacht. Finally, the Master said, "Take him back to his cabin. Lock him in."

Once the men and the prisoner had gone, Kanaan moved off the swim platform and headed for the bar. There was a telephone there. He sat down and thought about his conversation with Ahmet. The rat is correct; his family would not accept him if he talked. I am safe. Kanaan nodded and then picked up the handset. He dialed one to reach the bridge. It took a few moments for the call to be answered.

"Captain, head for the nearest port…It doesn’t matter, whatever is closest. We have someone leaving the ship…New Zealand sounds perfect. A few days there will be nice. Some leave perhaps would be welcome…Thank you." Kanaan replaced the handset. He sighed heavily, turned a chair around, and sat staring across the vast ocean.

⸛

"I’m sorry, Mum. I’ll keep you and Dad out of it the best I can." Andrew moved toward his mother as she entered the living room. "I really am sorry."

Doreen smiled at her child and embraced him. "It’s a warped and twisted world. You needn’t be sorry for trying to do the right thing. I’ll help you if I can." She kissed her grown son’s cheek. "Now, just for now, let’s enjoy our meal together. I need a little time, Andy."

"I understand." He squeezed his mother a moment longer before releasing her. "I’ll put the television on…how about that game show you and Dad like?"

"Thank you."

The doorbell rang at that moment.

"Sounds like the food arrived. We'll dish up in the kitchen." Doreen smiled at her son again and retreated to find her husband and their dinner.

⸛

The sharp kicks to his buttocks and thighs brought groans from Matt. Someone was there. Matt squinted against the light streaming in from the doorway. Everything was hard—the floor, breathing, and especially moving. He was starving and very thirsty.

"Up, dickwad. You’re shipping out today."

Matt struggled to pull himself up from the frigid cement floor. He huddled in the corner to protect himself from more of his captor's boots.

The man watched, disgust on his face. "Don't you want to know where you're going? No?" He turned to another who stood behind him in the doorway. "Get him up and showered. Feed him something. We need to get moving. I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Then we go."

"Yeah, okay. He’ll be ready." The second man moved into the room.

Matt watched from the safety of his corner. Purple gloves. Why do you have purple gloves on?

Purple Gloves grasped Matt by his upper arms and hauled him to his feet. "Come on. Let’s go. You heard him; you need to have a shower. Shit. You reek."

Go? "Where?" Matt whispered through his cracked and sore lips. His mouth was dry, and his tongue felt three times its normal size.

"No idea. Right now, you need to strip and get into the shower." The man dragged Matt along. They passed other temporary cages built from eight-foot anti-climb fencing.

"There's people in them," Matt said as he stumbled beside Purple Gloves.

"Yep. Let's go. We have a schedule to keep."

They stood together in a shower room. It had been purpose-built at some point but had been abandoned long ago.

High school had showers like this. Matt pulled off his stinking clothes, leaving them in a pile on a thin wooden bench. He cared no longer if others saw him naked. Moving into the stall, he reached for the knobs and turned them. The water was tepid.

It feels good, though. Though it was warm, Matthew cupped his hands to drink it.

Hooked over the metal divider was a basket that held soap and shampoo. Matt took the bar and washed himself. Looking down, he watched weeks of dirt and filth swirl down the drain.

Next, he washed his hair. It’s too long. Kanaan had liked it that way, but even this would have been too much for him.

"Come on, rinse off, and let’s go. There’re fresh clothes for you. I’ll get you some food." Purple Gloves stood watching with his arms folded over his chest. "There’s a towel behind you. Come on!"

The thought of food made Matt hurry. He turned off the water and grabbed the towel. He dried himself quickly and followed Purple Gloves’ finger as it pointed to the next bench. "Put those on. What size shoes?"

Matt pulled on the cheap sweatpants and shirt. "Nine."

"Okay. Wait here."

Matt did as he was told. A few minutes later, Purple Gloves returned with a pair of blue canvas sneakers. The man dropped them to the floor in front of Matt.

"Sit down and put them on. Then we’ll get some food."

Matt dragged the shoes over his damp feet and stood up. The thought of any food drove him to move quickly.

"Come on. I'll leave you in here and be right back." Purple Gloves led Matt down corridors into what looked like a school cafeteria. It was built around a square courtyard with glass central walls. The man stopped at a table along one of the brick walls and pointed to a chair and table. "Sit. Give me your right hand."

Matt sat and laid his right hand out. The handcuffs didn't surprise him.

Purple Gloves snapped one cuff to Matt's slim wrist and locked the other to a ring in the wall. "We aren't too far from a little market. I'm gonna get some food for you. Just sit here, okay? Don't fucking try to get out of the cuff cuz you'll just bleed. Just be quiet and wait."

Matt peered into Purple Gloves’ face, desperately looking for a friend. He cares, but maybe more about having to clean up the blood. "Okay. I'll wait. Um, thanks."

"Sure. I’ll be right back." Purple Gloves walked away, pulling off the purple latex gloves he wore. He tossed them onto a table as he left.

Matt lay his head on his left arm and wondered briefly about Ahmet. What have they done to you? Kanaan is a monster. As he lay there, his eyes found the overgrown courtyard. It was a mess of tangled green plants, but the riot was dotted here and there with spots of colour. School projects from long ago continued to thrive in the small square space.

It’s beautiful in its own way. Matt sighed. Why are we never satisfied with things? These plants grow wild in their own way. But we have to improve them. Change them, teach them to mind their place. Make them into what—"

"Sit up! I have food."

Purple Gloves returned and set down some containers. "Beghrir and stewed lentils. Eat." He unlocked Matt’s right hand.

Matt looked at the spongy bread and the container of lentils. He picked up the spoon and began to eat. He ate quickly, shovelling in the food.

"Don’t eat so fast. You’ll be sick!" Purple Gloves admonished him but then smiled. "It’s good, right?"

Between mouthfuls, Matt agreed. "It is." He sat back and sipped from the water Purple Gloves had brought him. "Where are we? Can I know?"

"Northern Morocco. Soon, we’ll go out to the Spirit, sail to the UK and deliver you."

Matt tore off some beghrir and scooped up some lentils. "How long is that?" He popped the food into his mouth.

"Oh, about six or seven days if the weather holds. Then you’ll be at your new home."

After a few more bites, Matt put down his spoon. "I’m sorry … I can’t finish it. Can I keep it till later?"

"Yes. Let's pack up. Goulet will be back soon. We best be ready to go." Purple Gloves replaced the lids on the containers and put them back into a plastic bag. He moved across the room to a table that had some canvas backpacks on it. He chose a khaki-coloured one and returned to Matt.

"For you. A few things for you. Pack your food in there."

Peering into the bag, Matt saw a small tube of toothpaste, a toothbrush, a razor, a small bar of soap, and a small towel. He added the bag of food to the contents. "Thanks."

"Sit. We’ll wait here."

Matt clutched the canvas bag, which was now all that he owned. He stared back out at the wild garden. I hope someday I can be as free as you.

⸛

Ahmet paid for his flight to Istanbul. He was at Wellington International Airport. The authorities at the port determined his travel and work documents were in order. They had found his story about leaving the ship he was employed on to fly home for a family emergency believable.

Now, he waited for his flight to be called. They'd kindly helped him find the first flight out. He was in no position to argue or be choosy. He wanted his lies to be believed.

As he waited, he emailed his parents to advise them of his return. His thoughts then turned to Matt.

I miss you, my love. I hope you are all right. Thinking of you hurts, and I fear I must say goodbye to you forever. I pray Allah will guide you and keep you safe.

When the boarding call came, Ahmet stood and took his first steps toward home and a new life. I will be free of Kanaan, but I will never be free to be myself again.

****