Chapter 17
A couple of hours after Thomas left, I was awakened by someone hammering on the back door and heard Rosie grumbling as she went to see who it was. A vague thought came into my mind that this was Saturday and it would be a rough night on little Wanda. But tomorrow was Sunday and I would have a date with Tom. The hammering stopped and I went back to sleep. I heard men's voices as I dozed off, but I didn't know or care who it was.
Rosie woke me about noon. She had taken care of the laundry man, phoned the drug store to send over what we needed, ordered some groceries, and had taken care of the numerous little items that needed to be done. I liked the way she handled things and I was beginning to like her.
"Who was here?" I stretched and yawned.
"Jergens and Bill-they're still here," Rosie answered. "They want to talk to this guy who's been making a drag for Joe. Honey, I don't like it-why do they have to pick our joint?"
"I don't know." I slipped out of bed and put on my robe. They were sitting in the kitchen drinking whiskey from some water glasses.
"What goes? I don't want trouble, what's the idea of picking my joint?" I asked.
"We won't make you any trouble," Bill promised.
"You won't, but what about this Joe? I'm on the other side of the fence, you know," I said. "I'd rather pay the ten bucks than risk getting into trouble."
"Maybe you would, but we want to find out who is trying to move in," Bill answered.
I didn't get a chance to argue. The guy knocked on the back door and I recognized his knock. I froze in my tracks. Bill and Jergens moved out of sight and motioned for roe to open the door. I could feel the goose pimples on my legs scratch against my robe and my legs were like wooden pins, so stiff they would hardly take me to the door. I pulled it open.
"Joe sent me-he wants ten bucks apiece from you girls," the man said.
"Come on in," I said and moved back out of the way.
When he stepped through the door, Bill slammed it shut and they both grabbed him. He didn't have much of a chance and he let out a whine and stopped fighting when Bill twisted his arm behind his back.
"Frisk him," Bill ordered. Rosie ran her hands over his clothes. She came up with a notebook and a bundle of tens and twenties. They slammed him into a chair. The guy caught a deep breath.
"You cops?" he asked and shrugged his shoulders.
"Tell us about it," Bill said. "Who's Joe and what goes?"
The guy gave a weak little smile. He hunched his shoulders and smiled again at them.
"I'm Joe," he said in a timid voice. "Pretty good racket, wasn't it? I just told them that Joe wanted ten and all these whores gave me ten bucks. They didn't ask questions, they just gave it to me."
Again, he gave a weak little laugh. Bill just stared at him with a disgusted look on his face. He went into the front room and made a phone call. He looked a little pale when he returned.
"What would you have done if a dame had said no?" Bill asked.
"There's nothing I could have done," Joe smiled at Bill.
"Where did you get the bright idea for this shake down?" Bill's neck turned red with anger. The man shrugged his shoulders. I felt sorry for him and he reminded me of a homeless pup.
"The mills were shut down and I was out of work," he began, "I-I saw you cops taking money from these women and I thought that I could do the same thing. It wouldn't be any worse for me to take some of their money than it is for a cop. So I went up to one of the houses and told the lady that Joe wanted ten bucks from every girl. The old gal paid off and didn't say a word, so I went to the next house. That's how it happened."
"You formed an awful bad habit," Bill muttered. He took the man by his arm, "Come on. Let's go."
Joe gave us his weak little smile and went with them. I laid down and slept until about three. I was still groggy with sleep, but I fixed my hair and make-up. Rosie helped me select an outfit that we thought the men would like. I felt pretty nervous and jittery when I took my place at the window. Too many things were happening to me and I couldn't keep up with them.
That night was about the hardest that I ever spent on the turf. The men went hard with me and it seemed that each customer said or did something that irritated me. They hurt me more than usual. But each moment brought me closer to my date with Tom and I worried about having to tell him before he found out some other way. It had only been luck that he hadn't discovered it so far. But how does a woman explain to a guy like Tom that she's a whore? I knew what he thought of the women on Green street.
It was past three-thirty in the morning before we turned out the lights. Once more, Rosie went through the ritual of taking care of me, putting up my hair, cleansing my body, and giving me a rub down.
"Make me look real pretty," I whispered to her. "I'm meeting a special guy tomorrow. By the way, when are all those high paying customers going to come around and see you?"
Rosie just laughed. I didn't care if she was lying or not. I liked the way she mothered and took care of me. She took on an occasional date and she was earning her room and board. Thomas hadn't been so dumb when he sent her to me. I was glad he did. I went to sleep while she was giving me a rub down.
Sunday morning, I didn't sleep in. It was too big a day in my life and I woke up early. I was so nervous and excited about meeting Tom that I couldn't hold onto anything. My hands weren't shaking or anything, but it just seemed that everything just flew out of my hands. I dropped almost everything I picked up.
"No customers for me this morning," I told Rosie.
I called Lois. Whenever a Madame got caught short and needed a girl for a night or two, they called her. She wasn't interested in hustling full time, but she liked the extra money once in awhile. She was married to a truck driver and they had a nice home and two kids in another city. Lois said she'd hustle for me today.
I had more than a hundred dresses in my closet and it took me over an hour to pick out one that I thought would be suitable to wear for my date with Tom. I wanted one that would really show off my figure, but I didn't want anything that would suggest that I was a strumpet. John had selected most of my dresses to wear on the turf and so many of them were cut too low in front to wear out on the street. I finally picked one that was full in front, but open enough to give him a shy peek if he stood close to me.
I added a pale lipstick to my lips and an even fighter shade of rouge to my cheeks. When I finished, I surveyed myself in my full length mirror for over fifteen minutes to make sure that everything was perfect. I called in Rosie.
"Tell me, do I look like a whore?" I turned around so she could see me.
"Honey, you look wonderful," Rosie said.
The thought of looking like a whore scared me. I had heard men say they could tell a prostitute just by looking at them. I didn't know if they could or not, but I didn't want anyone to tell it today. Rosie made some final touches with a comb to my hair and gave me a playful slap on the fanny with her hand.
"Go on and have a good time," she laughed.
When I stepped into the inner living room, I stopped in surprise. There was a man sitting on the sofa. He had taken off his shirt and shoes and was stretched out, reading a newspaper. He was black headed, about thirty-five, and had a puffed out belly that hung flabbily over his belt. He was a pimp, a lousy fancy man. His clothes, his perfume, and his soft white hands told me all I needed to know about him. My first thought was that he was Rosie's man.
"Who are you?" I asked.
"Tony," he gave me a grin that was almost a sneer. "Say, you're better looking than I thought you would be."
"Is he your guy?" I turned to Rosie. She shook her head. Tony laid his paper down and fished into his coat for a cigarette.
"No, starting now, I'm your guy," he smiled up at me. "I heard you ain't got a pimp any more. Your husband is going to be away for awhile, so I thought I'd look after his interests. A nice little chippy like you needs a guy to look after her."
"Like Hell," I blazed. I went into the parlor and called Thomas.
"Get over here as fast as you-"
That's as far as I got. Tony grabbed the phone out of my hands and slapped me. I stumbled and fell against the sofa. He grabbed my dress, jerked me up, slapped me again, then shoved me to the floor. He stood over me, his hands on his hips.
"Listen, Babe, you're hustling for me so you might as well get used to it," he said and picked up my pocket book. I had five hundred dollars saved up to send to John's lawyer. Tony counted it and shoved it into his pocket. "You're doing O.K. Wanda, I can see that we're going to get along swell."
In the distance, I heard the siren on Thomas's squad car.
He cut it before he turned the corner. He pulled up in front of the house and came in on the run. "What's the trouble?" he stormed.
"This damn pimp is trying to move in on me," I sobbed. My cheeks stung from his slaps, but I didn't start crying until Thomas came through the door.
"Beat it," Thomas snarled.
Tony glared at Thomas for a moment, then shrugged his shoulders indifferently. He sat down and started putting on his shirt.
"I heard she was on the loose," Tony mumbled. "She is," Thomas answered.
"Then what the hell?" Tony raised his face to Thomas. "What do you care if she keeps a guy or not. A damn whore ain't got no business with money. What do you expect her to do with it-stick it in the bank for her old age?"
Thomas didn't answer. Tony bent over and laced up his shoes.
"Maybe she's your girl," Tony looked up at Thomas. "Maybe she is," he shrugged his shoulders. "Man, I never thought you'd turn pimp!"
Thomas' face turned black with fury. Tony threw up his hands to protect his face when Thomas bounded across the room. Thomas hit him once. Tony was sitting down, but he didn't get up. He just sat there, blood spurting from his lips. Thomas backed away, clinching and unclinching his fists. Tony didn't say anything. He just put on his coat.
"My money," I cried.
Tony tossed my roll onto the floor and walked out. He didn't slam the door, but shut it gently. He went down the steps, holding a handkerchief to his lips.
"He called me a pimp," Thomas shook with rage. He looked at me and his eyes widened, "I-I guess I am one. All my life, I've hated those rats, now-now I'm one myself."
"No, you're not," I said. "You didn't put me on the turf, you've helped me. It's just a business deal, that's all."
He stared at me for a moment and then went out; his face had a grim look when he drove off. I waited until he left then I hurried to meet Tom. At the telegraph office, I sent the money to John's lawyer, and almost ran to the bus station. Tom had brought his car.
After dinner in our little cafe, we went to the zoo. We spent the afternoon looking at the animals and Tom had brought a blanket for me to lie on. I laid on my stomach and watched the sun make its westward journey. Tom sat beside me, one leg propped under him. "I love you," I whispered.
I kept my face turned from him because I didn't want him to see my tears. I was so happy that I was crying. I felt that way when I was with him. I realized how weak and ineffective our language is to convey emotion. Three little words couldn't begin to tell him how I felt. He put his hand on my back.
It sent fire racing through me and even the nerves in my feet tingled. Before now, I had never believed that a man could have this much effect on me. I wanted to move myself beneath his hand, but there were people walking up and down the sidewalk....
"Tom, there's no one but you," I turned and looked at him. I had it on the tip of my tongue to tell him, but I couldn't Everything was perfect and I was afraid I would destroy my happiness.
"Let's go," he said.
"Where?"
"Oh, just someplace," Tom smiled.
Tom folded the blanket and we drove far out into the country, through narrow country lanes that twisted through the hills until we came to a lonely spot that overlooked the river. The view was so beautiful that it took my breath away. The river looked like a silver strand woven into a green cloth and the hills in the distance; on the other side of the plain were a thousand hues of blue and purple.
Tom drew me close to him, and let his hand slip into my dress. I laid my head against his shoulder and looked out at the river. He squeezed gently.
"Don't rush me, Tony, let me think about it," I whispered.
"Tony!"
Tom stiffened and gave me a shocked look. It took me a moment to realize who's name I had said. Tony, the pimp who had tried to move in on me. I laughed to cover up and wondered why I had said his name.
"Tom-can't a girl have more than one boy friend?" I smiled up at him.
"Sounds like he runs a push cart," Tom growled. He frowned down at me.
"You're jealous," I teased, but it pleased me.
"You darn right I am. I don't want my girl playing the field. Now who's Tony?"
"A name I made up, to see what you'd say."
Tom grinned. He believed me. He kissed me, and I felt the strength of his hands when he gripped me and searched beneath my dress for my sensitive spots. He could build a fire inside me and it frightened me the way he could control me.
In almost a frenzy, I tore off my dress and slip. Tom had never seen me naked, not in the daylight anyway, and more than anything, I wanted to show myself completely to him. It was important that he see every bit of me. His hands were clumsy as he tried to help me. I laughed when I tossed my clothes into the back seat and I sat motionless while Tom looked at me. The look in his eyes and the expression on his face made me dizzy. I felt him kissing me and I tried to help him. Something wonderful had come over me and it seemed that I was a robot, unable to refuse his commands. When he laid me down on the car seat, I tried to pretend that I wasn't experienced.
When he was through with me, I dressed quickly. I wasn't ashamed of my nakedness, but with his eagerness gone, he would feel self-conscious. I leaned back in the seat, so exhausted that I could hardly move. Neither of us had much to say on the way back to Parkville. There wasn't much we could say, our love had been expressed m motion and action; words weren't needed now.
We took in a movie. Tom sat close to me and he would lean over, squeeze my hand and whisper, "Darling, I love you."
His car made complications, but I didn't think of it until we got out of the show.
"I'll drive you home," Tom said .
I fought for breath and his words made me panic. I felt as if someone had suddenly thrown cold water on me. "No-no," I said quickly.
"Why not?" Tom turned and looked at me, "You never have showed me where you live. I don't even know the address. For all I know, you could be married."
Perhaps it was the look in my eyes or the way I moved my hands. I don't know. But he came closer to me, an odd look on his face that frightened me.
"Is-is that it, you're married?" his voice was stern.
"No-no!" I shook my head. I was frantic. I was trying to think of something to tell him, but my mind was blank, "Please, Tom, be reasonable."
T am being reasonable," he said, "I think you ought to tell me where you live."
We were standing in a dark doorway and Tom had pressed against the window. Suddenly, he grabbed my purse and started rummaging through my purse. I saw the look of horror in his eyes when he read aloud my driver's license.
"Mrs. Wanda Lane, 309 Green street-Mrs.-then you're married!"
I sank back against the window, my teeth chattering.
"Yes-yes, I'm married, but-but we're not together. I-I've filed for a divorce," That much was the truth. When I had wired the money to John's lawyer, I had told him I wanted a divorce. "We-we parted before I met you."
I heard his breath slide out and I wondered if he was angry. I looked into his face, but I couldn't tell how he felt
"Why didn't you tell me this?"
"I-I was afraid to-afraid I'd lose you," I stammered. "That's why I didn't want you coming around the house until after the divorce. Don't you understand?"
I gripped his arms. Tom just looked at me.
"All right, we'll do it your way," he answered. "Where can I let you off?"
"Here-this is as good a place as any."
He took me into his arms and held me close. I tried to show my love for him in our kiss.
"I'll see you Wednesday night," he said. "Same time, same place."
"I'll be there," I promised.
He turned and walked away. I watched him leave me. I loved the cut of his shoulders, the way he talked, and the way he looked at me when he whispered "I love you." Tom waved when he drove past. Everything was O.K. I was sure nothing could kill our love! I went back to the joint. Lois was sitting in the window when I got there.
"You didn't miss anything-it's been a dull night," she said when I walked in. "I didn't even get a good work-out"
"Maybe Wednesday will be better for you," I said. T can use you then."
"O.K." Lois smiled as if she was pleased. I helped her gather up her things. She had brought her youngest baby with her, a cute little year-old boy. He had been asleep in the kitchen and he barely stirred when she picked him up.
"Cute," I said.
"Cute, but a nuisance," Lois answered and kissed him on the cheek. "I wish I could find someone to take care of him for awhile-I'd hustle full time-until we got our place paid for."
She slipped out the back door and I heard her drive off. I changed into something more suitable and took my chair in the parlor. Rosie was sprawled out on the sofa, drinking a can of beer.
"I won't be with you tomorrow night-I'm going to a party," she said. "Don't worry, I'll earn more there than you will in two nights on this street."
I waited a couple of hours, but no one came to me. It was as if the men had suddenly forgot where the houses were or that we were waiting for them. In disgust, I snapped out the fight and went to bed.