Chapter 16
Rosie woke me about ten. She had already cleaned up the house. After I had my coffee, she gave me a manicure, combed out my hair and fixed it. We had forgotten to buy groceries, so I dressed and drove to the store while she got my room ready for business. When I returned, she was on the phone calling her customers, and telling them her new address. She laughed, giggled, and talked about ten minutes to each one.
I stretched out in the chair beside the window and started watching the street for dates. Rosie placed a footstool beneath my feet. It was the damn waiting that I despised. I read every item in the newspaper and tossed it over to Rosie. The only thing that interested me was the coming election and I wondered if it would have any effect on Green street.
The laundry man came with his load of towels and usual good humor, and the knock at the back door meant that the guy that Joe sent around wanted his daily ten. A couple of boys from the vice squad came around and proudly, I showed off my house to them. They even stopped to have a cup of coffee with me and we sat in the kitchen and talked. They teased me about being so popular and I slipped them twenty bucks. They sneaked out the back door when we heard a customer come in the front. The customer had come at the wrong time. If he had waited a few minutes, the cops might have gone to bed with me and I could have hustled their take.
I wasn't too glad to see the customer anyway. He was a real slob and I had done business with him before. Rosie took him out in back to help him select a pigeon. I heard Rosie give him a sales pitch for herself and I kept hoping he would buy her. She could put out for him a lot better than I could. I hated to have my room messed up.
I put a huge piece of oil cloth over the bed and I was naked and lying down when they returned. I didn't smile at him and I put my elbow over my eyes so I wouldn't see the pigeon. Poor little creature! It makes me sad to look at them before it happens and see the look in their eyes.
I could hear his harsh breathing and the chair scrape on the floor while he undressed. His body was wet with sweat, yet clammy, when he touched my skin and his breath was rank in my face. I turned my face towards the wall and tried to keep my mind blank while I met the movements of his body. It's hard not to think, but I have a trick that I use. I play solitaire with an imaginary deck of cards. It takes effort to concentrate and keep the plays straight in my mind.
He stopped. I gritted my teeth and clamped my eyes shut. I heard the pigeon squawk when he twisted its head off. I heard him laugh, chuckling to himself in a weird way that made the chills run up my back, when he held the bird up so the blood would spurt over my body.
The slob! The slob, I thought. Why can't he love me the way a man is supposed to?
It was over. I was covered with blood that started sticking to my skin. When I looked at the guy, excitement danced in his eyes. He started talking about it, making elated gestures with his hands while he talked. The act had been like drink to him. I managed to get rid of him and I slid into the tub of hot water that Rosie had drawn for me.
"That dirty son of a bitch," I said. "I hate a slob like that!"
Rosie was in my room, cleaning up the mess. I felt better after calling him those names.
"You've never done it just for the pleasure of doing it, have you?" Rosie asked.
"Course I have-what makes you think I haven't?" I snapped. I thought of that time at the high school with Tom.
"No, you haven't. I don't think you could love anybody but yourself," Rosie answered. "You think of sex as something to use to get what you want. If you ever loved a man, you'd know that sex and violence are mixed together."
"What do you know about it? Hell, you're nothing but a flagger," I snapped. "Sure, for you, they're mixed. You get your kicks from a whip."
"I haven't always been. You don't know how to give yourself completely to a man-to have him bite and kiss your body."
"Monkey bites, I know. I've had 'em."
Rosie shook her head. "Honey, you still don't understand. I mean to love just an ordinary guy and when he's through making love to you, you're so weak that you couldn't think about doing it with another man. Love is something to give, not to sell, and the bedroom is only a small part of it. It's the part that counts least when you're in love."
"You're nuts. Hell-all a man wants from a woman is sex. That's all he cares about."
"That's where you're wrong, child," Rosie answered. "You don't know how wrong you are."
"I'm no child. I'm eighteen years old and I know plenty about men!" I almost yelled at her. "I don't want anyone preaching at me. I had enough of that when I was home."
"Nobody is preaching to you," she said. "But what are you going to do in a few years when you've got a big butt and lines in your face? You'll find out that there's more to being a woman than just getting screwed. It's funny. When you're young and pretty, you take the customers for granted and when you get older and could really show them a good time because you really want to, they turn you down. Maybe you don't think so much about it now, but someday you will."
"I said I don't want any sermons," I said bitterly. "I know about men, all of them, and I know what they want from women."
Even Tom, who wanted to marry me, had been on the make for me. He had tried to pull me into a hotel for a session.
"O.K. no more sermons," Rosie laughed.
I drained the tub. Rosie scrubbed it out, filled it again, and I got in once more. I lay submerged to my neck while she cleaned up my room and washed off the oil cloth. I wondered if we could afford to hire a maid to take care of such things.
My body was clean, but I still felt dirty and grimy when I got out of the tub. It would be awhile before that feeling would wear off. My room was all clean and there were no marks to show that the slob had been there. I noted with satisfaction that he hadn't got blood on the wall paper. I couldn't bring myself to dress. I wanted to be naked until the feeling that I had wore off. I put on a pair of slippers and roamed the house like a nervous animal. The blinds were drawn and no one could see in, but I didn't care if people did see me naked.
"You'd better take care of business," Rosie suggested.
I frowned at her, put on my clothes and took my place at the window. It was a lonesome and useless wait. About four, the boy threw the evening paper on the porch and I read it through. On one of the back pages, I saw where John Lane had been arrested for violation of the Mann Act. It had happened three states and five hundred miles from here. I called Thomas and told him about it. He didn't seem too concerned, but said he would look into it and call me back.
All I could do was wait.
When it started to get dark, Rosie turned on my light and it drew men the way it drew bugs. About five-thirty, Bill picked me up and we drove out to a lonely country road. Thomas drove up behind us. I got into his car and he started driving.
He told me about John. My husband had pulled about as dumb a trick that a pimp could pull. Somewhere, he had picked up two teen-age sisters, the oldest was sixteen, and had put them in a house of prostitution. The girls' parents had him arrested.
"How bad is it?" I asked.
"Pretty bad," Thomas answered. "He must have been drunk or else he wanted to get caught."
The last remained in my mind. Maybe he was trying to get even with me or perhaps he wanted to hurt himself. He had been too smart to pull a deal like that.
"This isn't a frame, is it?" I glanced at Thomas. "You said you were going to get rid of him."
"No, it's no frame," Thomas answered. "We got rid of him. I bought him a ticket to St Louis and told him to use it."
Thomas looked at me and hesitated; "Does he mean anything to you?"
"Not any more-but I feel responsible for him. Do you know what I mean?"
"Well, don't. He ain't worth it," Thomas growled. He parked the car beneath a tree and looked at me, "Who's your boy friend now?"
"Nobody," I answered. "There's no one now."
I leaned my head back against the seat. Thomas was looking at me, as if he was trying to make up his mind. When he did, he leaned forward and kissed me. I didn't move.
"I've been waiting for you to do that," I said.
"Why?"
"I don't know-I've just been wanting you to," I shrugged my shoulders.
"I can't figure you dames out-as many times a day that-"
"Don't try to figure us out," I interrupted. "Don't say anything-just let me pretend there hasn't been anyone else."
He took me in his arms. I tried to imagine he was the only one and that I wasn't a prostitute. I relaxed beneath his kisses and tried to return his passion, but that part wasn't in me. The only thing I gained from it was that I no longer felt so selfconscious in front of him now and I felt sure I could get what I wanted from him. I kept thinking about what Rosie had said-about me just using sex to get what I wanted. I didn't want to be that way.
Thomas gave me John's lawyer's name and let me out again where Bill was parked. Bill took me back to Green street.
I thought about going to see John, but I couldn't leave here very well, and the truth was that I didn't want to see him. It was over between us and I didn't want to have it start over. But I did call John's lawyer and had a long talk with him. He told me that John's chances were black and suggested that I stay out of it because it might go harder on John if the judge knew that his wife was a chippy. I promised to send him some money and hung up.
I started to go to bed but Bill and Jergens showed up to collect their share of my earnings. There was no chance to cheat them. They knew exactly how many men I had done business with. What we had to go over was my expenses and the money I had spent.
"What's this twenty bucks a day to Joe?" Bill asked.
"You ought to know about that," I answered. "Every gal on this street pays off to him-ten bucks a day."
Bill and Jergens exchanged glances.
"What gives?" I asked. "What's wrong?"
"I don't know, but we'll find out." Bill gave me a worried frown.
They left and in hour, Thomas stopped by and asked me about the pay off to Joe. I told him what I had told Bill and Jergens.
"Who do you think it is?" I asked.
"I don't know-it might be some mob from St. Louis or Chicago trying to move in," Thomas said. "You haven't heard of any girls hustling him?"
I shook my head.
"You didn't ask questions?"
"No, everybody was scared to, I guess," I answered. "We just gave him ten bucks and kept our mouths shut."
Thomas shook his head again. "See you tomorrow," he said.