Refugee Prison Break

Chapter 20

I made my way from Oakland airport to Ernesto's bungalow the way Bas had taken me years earlier. When I knocked on the door, no one answered, so I sat on the porch for an hour until Ernesto returned.

"What are you doing here?" he said, shocked.

We went inside, and I explained. In the time since we had last me, my English had become more fluent, and he had gotten used to the Malaysian accent.

"Erny," I said, calling him by the name Bas used, "I need your help. Ideally I would have been able to discuss this plan with you before jumping into it, but as I've said, that's not possible. We have to do this now; I need you with me this next week."

Before he had time to agree or refuse, I began going through our next step. Did he have a friend he could enlist? Would that friend be able to book an RV and drive us first to Chicago, then to Florida, then back to California?

I had settled on the idea of an RV on the second leg of my flight. My tunnel boring machine was not going to fit in a car, I didn't want it on display in the back of a pick-up, and I feared getting stopped for speeding or some other minor violation in a van and having to open up the back for a curious officer. How to explain the piece of machinery then? In an RV, which as far as I could tell from pictures was just a van but with a bed, kitchen and toilet built in, an officer would have to enter and rummage around a bit. Moreover, it provided living facilities for the team I hoped to assemble.

"I can't think of anyone..." said Ernesto.

"No one? Think harder, Erny!"

"What you're asking is... You're asking someone to participate in a major crime. Few people would be willing to do that, especially for someone they don't really know. Even I..."

"Don't you dare say it! Think of Bas. Think of your parents, who came here when they were Bas's age."

"I don't know..."

I scowled.

"My aunt!" said Ernesto. "She would do it."

"Your aunt?"

"Yeah, she's so fierce, and I was always close to her. She was the first person I came out to."

"Does she share your surname?"

"No," said Ernesto, looking a little confused.

"Perfect!"