36/46
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//---->Caught. 1/2
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Cam’el steps into a sea of pink hats, colorful signs and hand painted t-shirts. Moving as one down Harmon Avenue, they protest and proclaim presence, Love over Hate. Lana, Zora, Simone and Racine with a few of the guys clap and chant, until Cam’el arrives with Karin, pink frog hat and Baby Shark backpack, ready. The wait is over.
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Spoken. Heard. Believed. In recent months, the daughters of Nigeria return, accused priests see jail, moguls and media executives lose their place. Families tear. Untouchable celebrities and pop stars lose brilliance.
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Still, at the border, women seeking asylum survive heat and thirst only to fall victim to predators as they wait for freedom.
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“We have her now,” Lana offers. A chorus passes, “We will no longer be quiet.” Cam’el walks over to the Hard Rock. The Adult Entertainment Expo is an ocean of glitter, eyelash, stiletto and performance, as frenzied as the street. Men buzz the poles and paddles. Cam’el finds Jackie and retrieves the address.
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On the way out, he spots Memphis, yesterday’s Rideshare. Nearly lost to meningitis at birth, limbs were amputated to stem the spread. He and dad Chris are in Vegas for prosthetic teeth. Last month in Texas, they are gifted bionic arms and legs. Now, at fifteen, between two Hooters girls, Memphis beams survivor, star, inspiration.
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Crossing Swenson towards Twain, Cam’el makes note of the lifeless sky. It takes only ten minutes. From a storefront doorway, Cam’el kneels down and dials. “In six minutes, you’re going to be raided.” He hangs up and waits. He has nothing against any of them. It is better they leave than be caught.
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During rides to the spas, men often call home, sweetly asking kids about homework, wives about dinner, before saying good night. Considerate. Two black Escalades pull to a side entrance. Three men exit. Good men. Shortly after, the street is again deserted, before women start appearing. With nowhere to go, they wait.
