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“OK, now you.”
She nodded, coming over and getting into position. She positioned the hook under the tape, tucking it under and ripping it off with a hard pull.
“Ah, shite!” she cried out as she pulled it off.
“Hurts like hell, doesn’t it?”
“You’re not kidding,” she said. Mrs. O’Leary looked me up and down, as if trying to get a sense of who I was. “Ah, you’re Claire, aren’t you?” Her voice carried a heavy Irish accent.
“That’s me. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
She smiled, a twinkle in her eye. “Call me Ma, everyone does. And I can’t believe that you’re even prettier than I imagined you to be.”
“That’s so nice of you to say.”
Ma grinned. “I’m sure I’ll have loads of fun getting to know you. For now, we need to figure out how the hell to give this place the laugh.”
She was right. I looked around, not seeing any obvious way out. The windows between the driver’s area and the back were totally opaque, and with our hands tied behind our backs, it would be hard getting around.
“I think I’ve got an idea,” I said. “Hopefully my year of yoga classes did me good.”
I moved onto the ground in the middle of the van, inching until my tied hands were under my butt.
Then came the hard part.
As Ma watched me in silence, I scooted forward bit by bit, moving my hands down the length of my legs. It hurt, and at times felt like I was going to pull my arms out of my damn sockets, but I was soon able to get my hands all the way down to my feet.
“Oh my!” Ma cried out right as I gave one more hard push, yanking my hands the rest of the way around my feet and in front of me.
“Wow!” I shouted. I stood up, looking at my hands and having a hard time with the fact that I’d been able to pull off the trick. “Now you!”
Ma laughed. “Don’t get me wrong, love, I’ve contorted my body in some strange ways before.” She winked, letting me know what she meant. “But those days are long behind me.”
Despite the fear moving through me, I allowed myself a small chuckle at her comment.
All the same, I needed to think of something else. A small toolkit was in the corner of the van, bolted to the side. I hurried over and pulled it open, revealing a simple collection of tools inside. I picked up the wrench and turned my attention to the van windows.
“Stand back!” I shouted, raising the wrench over my hand and bringing it down hard.
I slammed it into the window, cracks appearing on the black glass. I hit it once more, then again, then again, the fourth strike smashing through and punching a hole big enough for me to look out of.
To my surprise, there was no one else on the other side.
“What the hell?” I asked. “No one’s here.”
“Look for some keys or some such, love,” Ma said. “Got to be some way we can get out of here.”
I looked around the front area. Sure enough, the keys were still in the ignition.
“Keys!” I shouted. “Just need to get the rest of this glass off and I can—”
I didn’t get a chance to finish the sentence. The driver’s side door flew open, horror overcoming me as I recognized the man coming into the van.
Jose had a panicked look on his face, a total contrast to his normal easy, smug calm. Before either of us could react, he waved his pistol wildly in front of the hole in the glass.
“You putas need to sit your asses down now!” he cried, total mania in his eyes. “Sit down or I will sit you down! It’s going to be a long drive to the border.”
Ma and I shared the same expression of panic. I had no idea if he’d be able to make that kind of a drive with two unwilling passengers in the back of his van. I did, however, worry that he’d lose his patience with us and do something terrible if given the chance.
