“That seems a bit dramatic.”
“Imagine if you had been pulled away from the one person in the world that you loved more than anything. Don’t you think that would feel a bit dramatic?” I asked spitefully.
“I wouldn’t know,” he said as he took a sharp breath in. “I’ve never loved anyone.”
He turned around to leave the bedroom that I was in without saying anything further.
“Wait,” I called after him. “Can you help me?”
I knew it was a desperate plea and that this guy likely wouldn’t do the first thing to help me get back to Michael and the others, but I had to at least ask.
“Help you with what?” he asked as he turned back around.
“I need to get back to America, to my friends.”
“I thought that you and your friends were trying to outrun some people and come here to Canada? Isn’t that why you came to the border to begin with?”
“Yes,” I nodded. “But as you can very well see, that didn’t quite go smashingly for us. I just need to get back to my friends. I don’t care which side of the border I’m on when I do it. I will gladly go back to the States if you could just help me be reunited with them.”
“Why do that?” he asked. “When you could just as easily bring them all here.”
14
I didn’t understand Trevor (that was his name according to what he told me over coffee). He seemed like a decent guy, but he was also the entire reason I was stuck here now.
He seemed to have no regret for tricking me into crossing into Canada, but he also seemed not to have wanted to do it in the first place. And now, he acted as if he was both doing his duty by looking after the “stray American”, and also offering to break even more rules to help me bring Michael, Adam, and Rob here. On top of it all, he had very carefully made me comfortable in his own bed instead of ditching me on the side of the road like I would have expected him to do. This man was a complete paradox.
“What do you mean about bringing them here?” I asked as we sat across from each other at the kitchen table.
Trevor pushed a plate of toast and eggs in front of me and topped off my coffee with some fresh, hot caffeine. I hadn’t even noticed that the white pajama shirt I was wearing was pretty translucent, until I could see the reflection of my nipples showing through the fabric in the glass orange juice pitcher. Trevor didn’t even seem to notice, which was strange for a guy. I was glad about it though, because the last thing I was in the mood to do right now was to try and fend off any unwanted advances. Still, it was a little weird and I wanted to know what his motive was.
“There are other entry points along the border,” he said in answer to my question. “Some of them legal, and some not so much.”
“Are you suggesting that they sneak into Canada through an illegal entry point?”
“Yes.”
“Wait a second, but aren’t you a border patrol guard? Isn’t that what you’re supposed to be guarding against?”
“Yes,” he said again.
“Then why in the world would you be suggesting this? If this has something to do with the reason that you put me in these pajamas, then you should know that I am very much already taken, and if you so much as lay one hand on me, I can assure you that Michael will—”
“Relax,” Trevor laughed. “I don’t want to lay even so much as a finger on you.”
“You don’t?”
“No,” he chuckled some more. “I’m gay. And I stole those pajamas from the last hotel I stayed at. They looked soft and I thought they would make a nice gift for my sister. But you definitely looked like you needed them more than she did.”
“Thank you,” I said, not sure what else would be appropriate to say in that moment.
Trevor sat down across from me after refilling his coffee, and began to eat his breakfast. I was beyond hungry, so I picked up my fork and shoveled some eggs into my mouth, along with a crunchy corner of toast. I was feeling a little bit more hopeful this Morning, now that it seemed that there might be a way for me to still get the guys across the border.
“So,” I said through a mouthful of food.
I hadn’t realized how ravenously hungry I was until I began eating. “How do we do it? How do we get them across?”
I figured that since he was a border patrol guard that he must have known some of the tricks and secrets, and secret pathways.
“It’s not so much how to get your friends across that’s the problem,” he said as he sipped his coffee.
“Then what is?”
“It’s letting them know where to cross. You’d have to get into contact with them somehow, and from what Frank told me, you guys all left your phones and wallets behind.”
He was right, we did. The guys had taken off into the woods with absolutely no way to contact them or know where they would be going.
“Maybe you can contact Frank and ask him to help locate them,” I said.
“Nope,” Trevor said as he shook his head.
“Why not?”
“Frank is dead.”
I guess that answered the question of who fired the shots at the border last night.
