Page 111 of Save Me

Another group of teens fills the van. They look just as exhausted as the kids who were dropped off.

It’s not only the driver and passenger seat guys who are involved. More than one of the motel’s employees oversees this exchange. They also take turns yelling at the kids but tell them to hurry up and be quiet so as not to disturb the other guests.

Once the exchange is over and all of the kids are in the van, passenger seat guy goes over to one of the employees and pulls out a wad of money. I continue taking pictures, providing a witness to what I assume is payment for whatever this is.

I can also assume that none of the children receive any type of compensation for their forced labor. Not anything equivalent to what they deserve. Even if they did, this is still illegal, given state laws for child labor.

“Shit,” I curse as the van starts up and the driver pulls off in our direction. “Behind the trash cans,” I tell Nicole.

We crouch behind the large plastic bins to remain out of sight as the van rounds the side of the motel toward the parking lot’s exit.

As I stoop behind the bins, a memory from years ago flashes across my mind. It’s of a different alleyway in Seoul, South Korea.

The boy I tried to help who was getting beat up. The one who ran away. I often thought about him over the years.

What was his story?

Where did he end up?

It’s been a while since I’ve thought about him. And I don’t know what prompts the memory to resurface now. I can only imagine that it’s because I’m faced with another situation in a dank alleyway, and I feel powerless to help.

Shaking the memory off, I refocus on the present right as the church van passes.

I feel nausea bubble up in my stomach, and it has nothing to do with the stench of the trash cans.

Once the van is out of sight, I ask Nicole, “You said you went to that church?”

She nods. “Yeah, when my mom kicked me out, I told a friend I had nowhere to go. They told me the church offered kids like me a place to stay for a while. In exchange, we just had to do some work.”

She shrugs. “That’s how I ended up out here.”

I squeeze the phone in my hand as my anger levels rise.

“Are you hungry?” I ask her as we make our way across the street to the convenience store’s parking lot. It’s close to ten o’clock.

She nods.

“How about we grab something to eat? You can tell me more about how you ended up here.”

She peers up at Michael, who’s sitting in the passenger seat. “What about him?”

I barely manage to keep the scowl off of my face.

“He’s probably pissed off that I left him waiting for so long.”

I stop from telling her that he’s a big boy and should be fine waiting in a car for ten minutes.

“What the hell took you so long?” he barks, getting out of the car as soon as we get within a few feet. “I’ve been waiting all night. You got what you needed. Let’s fucking go.”

“You need to lower your voice when speaking to me,” I tell him.

He directs his attention from Nicole to me, which is what I wanted. This punk doesn’t scare me, but she’s afraid of him.

“It’s your fucking fault we’re out here in the first goddamn place. Just give me my money so we can go.”

“What?” I ask while he holds out his hand expectedly.

“My money. Payment for me helping you.”

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