fitness centre she used a personal trainer and was toying with the idea of becoming one herself. After a few seconds he rolled onto his back and tried it. It was tight, the angle too acute.
Come on, she breathed out, please please please please. Come on, come on.
The only motion, a slight flexing of the metal. Then more of that suspensioned rocking, below. A passerby might think lovers were in the back seat of the car.
I hear something, he said. He wanted to cover her panting mouth with his hand. Listen.
Oh God, it’s someone. Help! she said, but with no breath in it.
Hello! he yelled, amazed at how the enclosure, and somehow the darkness too, seemed to stifle the shout. He squirmed out of his leg-press crouch as steps approached. This move involved shoving contortions, Janna crying out weakly, cursing him as his knee met her shoulder, he guessed. He didn’t care now. This was the point in the old film where the hero slaps the hysterical woman and she gets a hold of herself, grateful, admiring, won over.
He got his mouth up against the crack of the trunk, near where it latched. Hello! Help!
The footsteps stopped.
In here, please! We’re in the car!
The trunk, Janna whispered.
We’re in the trunk!
Footsteps approached. They sounded heavy, solid. A good thing.
Someone in there?
Yes.
Yes! Janna called with a sob. Her breathing was slower, though still shallow.
What, there’s two of you?
Yes.
What are you doing in there? A faint slur yoked the words together. The voice was low and throaty—older. Actually, the voice sounded a bit tickled.
We got locked in. A guy robbed us.
No way! What a fucking drag! I never seen anything like this.
Please, Janna said.
Can you just open the trunk? Justin said. The key might be in the lock there. Or maybe on the ground somewhere.
Hmm. Not in the lock.
Or just call the police. My fiancée is claustrophobic.
Yeah? The wife, she’s got that too, as a matter of—
Have you got a phone?
What’s that? Oh yeah, at home. Let me see if I can see a key around here.
The keychain is of, uh … it’s Elvis, his head.
Not having much luck here. The man started to whistle softly, in tune. It’s now or never .
I think I’m going to pee, Janna whispered.
Hold on, Justin said. Would you please hurry up, mister?
Hey, I’m doing my best for you, chief!
Maybe you should just go call the cops.
No! Janna said. The key has to be around here!
He might’ve just stole it, the man said. It’s not on the road here.
I don’t see why he would have, Justin said stubbornly, hoping the words into truth.
Why didn’t he take the car? Nice car. I like these European cars.
He tried, Justin said, reaching to hold Janna’s quivering shoulder. He couldn’t drive standard.
A momentary silence, then the man burst out insnorty guffaws. Oh now that’s too good! he said finally. Guy couldn’t drive standard!
I can’t hold it, Janna said. Oh God.
It’s all right, Justin whispered.
Oh God , get me out of here, please!
Go call the cops now, please! Justin yelled.
All right, yeah, I will so. I will now. But I was just wondering something first …
What?
Got nothing but shit for luck these days. Never the luck, the wife says. If you know what I’m saying. Could you give me a little retainer?
A what?
You know, a retainer. It’s legal talk, like on TV. A fee. He paused and then said, firmly: Slip me out some money, whatever you got. I need it. Then I’ll call the cops for you. There’s a payphone up the street.
I told you, we were just robbed!
Justin, wait.
We don’t have a cent. How the fuck can you ask—
Justin!
Now hang on a minute, chief—I told you, I’m broke, and I’m going to be doing you a favour. I mean, I prefer not to have anything to do with cops if it’s up to myself. This is going out on a limb for me. It’s not like you can’t afford it. Look at this car. This fucking Volvo .
But we—
It’s okay, Janna said, I have something. Some
Come on, she breathed out, please please please please. Come on, come on.
The only motion, a slight flexing of the metal. Then more of that suspensioned rocking, below. A passerby might think lovers were in the back seat of the car.
I hear something, he said. He wanted to cover her panting mouth with his hand. Listen.
Oh God, it’s someone. Help! she said, but with no breath in it.
Hello! he yelled, amazed at how the enclosure, and somehow the darkness too, seemed to stifle the shout. He squirmed out of his leg-press crouch as steps approached. This move involved shoving contortions, Janna crying out weakly, cursing him as his knee met her shoulder, he guessed. He didn’t care now. This was the point in the old film where the hero slaps the hysterical woman and she gets a hold of herself, grateful, admiring, won over.
He got his mouth up against the crack of the trunk, near where it latched. Hello! Help!
The footsteps stopped.
In here, please! We’re in the car!
The trunk, Janna whispered.
We’re in the trunk!
Footsteps approached. They sounded heavy, solid. A good thing.
Someone in there?
Yes.
Yes! Janna called with a sob. Her breathing was slower, though still shallow.
What, there’s two of you?
Yes.
What are you doing in there? A faint slur yoked the words together. The voice was low and throaty—older. Actually, the voice sounded a bit tickled.
We got locked in. A guy robbed us.
No way! What a fucking drag! I never seen anything like this.
Please, Janna said.
Can you just open the trunk? Justin said. The key might be in the lock there. Or maybe on the ground somewhere.
Hmm. Not in the lock.
Or just call the police. My fiancée is claustrophobic.
Yeah? The wife, she’s got that too, as a matter of—
Have you got a phone?
What’s that? Oh yeah, at home. Let me see if I can see a key around here.
The keychain is of, uh … it’s Elvis, his head.
Not having much luck here. The man started to whistle softly, in tune. It’s now or never .
I think I’m going to pee, Janna whispered.
Hold on, Justin said. Would you please hurry up, mister?
Hey, I’m doing my best for you, chief!
Maybe you should just go call the cops.
No! Janna said. The key has to be around here!
He might’ve just stole it, the man said. It’s not on the road here.
I don’t see why he would have, Justin said stubbornly, hoping the words into truth.
Why didn’t he take the car? Nice car. I like these European cars.
He tried, Justin said, reaching to hold Janna’s quivering shoulder. He couldn’t drive standard.
A momentary silence, then the man burst out insnorty guffaws. Oh now that’s too good! he said finally. Guy couldn’t drive standard!
I can’t hold it, Janna said. Oh God.
It’s all right, Justin whispered.
Oh God , get me out of here, please!
Go call the cops now, please! Justin yelled.
All right, yeah, I will so. I will now. But I was just wondering something first …
What?
Got nothing but shit for luck these days. Never the luck, the wife says. If you know what I’m saying. Could you give me a little retainer?
A what?
You know, a retainer. It’s legal talk, like on TV. A fee. He paused and then said, firmly: Slip me out some money, whatever you got. I need it. Then I’ll call the cops for you. There’s a payphone up the street.
I told you, we were just robbed!
Justin, wait.
We don’t have a cent. How the fuck can you ask—
Justin!
Now hang on a minute, chief—I told you, I’m broke, and I’m going to be doing you a favour. I mean, I prefer not to have anything to do with cops if it’s up to myself. This is going out on a limb for me. It’s not like you can’t afford it. Look at this car. This fucking Volvo .
But we—
It’s okay, Janna said, I have something. Some
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