Chapter 9

The next day Grace didn't ask me any questions, except how I was feeling. The guy that Joe sent around showed up again and we had to give him ten bucks. It was a long, dull day for me and my back ached from hustling so many dates. When I quit about one in the morning, John was waiting for me.

Although I hadn't seen him for several days, it didn't please me to have him back. Secretly, I wished he'd never come back because he complicated things with Tom.

"Hi ya, Baby, I really found you a swell joint," he greeted me. "It's a ten dollar house and you'll really have a good time. The other girls are averaging fifty men a night."

"You can keep it. I'm staying with Grace," I answered.

Suddenly, I was mad at him. John gave me a stormy look and drew back his hand as if he was going to hit me, but I didn't flinch. If he hit me, I would hit him back. Instead, he dropped his hand to the steering wheel.

"What's the matter with you anyway?" he asked; surprise in his voice. "I did what you told me to do and now you're sore because I did. You complained about Grace's and now that I've got you set up to earn some real money, you say you ain't going."

"That's right, I'm not."

"What am I going to tell the Madame? She's expecting you."

"I don't care what you tell her-tell her anything you want."

"But she's expecting you," John hit the steering wheel with his palm. "You'll be leaving her in a lurch. Wanda, it's a swell joint."

"That's tough. If it's such a nice joint, why don't you take my place?"

John gave me a disgusted look and shut up. I knew he wouldn't say any more about it until we got home and then he would really start in. I didn't even bother to ask him about the joint, I wasn't even that interested. I wouldn't leave Tom. I looked at John and tried to see what had once made me think I loved him. But I couldn't see it now. He was just a guy to me and I felt the same indifference towards him that I felt towards my customers.

"You hungry?" he asked. He was still sore. I could tell by the tone of his voice.

I said yes and we stopped at a night club at the edge of Parkville. It wasn't too crowded. I saw several chippies from Green street sitting in a rear booth, laughing real loud, and having a good time with their pimps. We took a booth near the front. I folded my hands on the table and waited for our order. I didn't even look at John.

Bill, the guy whom I had paid the thousand to when I first started, left the bar and came over to our booth. He pulled a chair from a table and sat down facing us, putting his glass of beer on our table.

"Hi, Kids," he said with a toothy grin. He looked at me and his smile broadened, "I'll be around to see you one of these days."

"Times are hard and it's been rough," I snapped. To me, Bill was just a leech. "You may have to wait on your thousand."

"I guess you haven't heard the latest," he said, still smiling, "The boys have cut the price to five hundred for awhile."

"That's sweet of them," I said. Bill shrugged his shoulders.

"Well, what the hell? They don't want to make it tough on nobody. Business has been slow and you girls have to work for your money just like everybody else." Bill turned his chair towards John, and made a sawing motion with his hands. "Say, that wife of yours is really turning into a first class hustler. She's getting to be the most popular whore on Green street."

John gave me a funny look and his lips went flat against his teeth. He rubbed the top of one hand with the palm of the other.

"The boys have been thinking that she might be able to use a better set-up. You know what I mean?" Once more, Bill made a funny motion with his hands. "They like to give a girl a break and if you want to, we can brag her up a little and throw some business her way."

"You talk to her-it's her fanny," John answered. His face was strangely serious.

Bill gave him an odd look. He turned towards me and swallowed at the lump in his throat. The sweat was glass beads shining on his forehead. I guess he knew what he wanted to say, but he didn't know how to go about it, talking directly to me. He drained his beer glass.

"Are you interested?" he asked.

"What's the deal?"

"The boys just fix it so you earn more money. They've got lots of friends, bar keeps, taxi drivers, and the like," Bill hunched his fat shoulders. "These guys just brag you up and tell guys who might be interested how good you are."

He fingered his beer glass for a moment, making dark circles on the table with it. He kept looking away from me.

"You'll earn plenty-twice what you're making now. But it's a rough go and I wouldn't blame you if you said no."

"Go ahead-that's what I'm in business for-to earn money," I said without hesitating. I didn't even bother to look at John to see how he felt about it.

"I'll tell the boys," Bill said. I noticed that he wasn't smiling. "How about exhibitions and parties? You want to go in for them too?"

"Sure."

Bill left our table without saying anything else. He sat alone at the bar. I thought, sure, I'm low-down and people consider me dirty, but what about guys like Bill? They feed off of whores like me and really, he's lower than I am. I noticed the odd look on John's face. He was just sitting there, staring at me.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing's the matter," John answered.

"Well, you wanted me to hustle and you forced me to become a prostitute," I snapped. "I thought you wanted me to say yes to Bill."

John didn't answer. He stared off into space and occasionally, he would lick his lips. On the way home, I kept my distance from him. He didn't try to put his arm around me and if he had tried, I wouldn't have let him.

"John, how many men have I done it with?" I asked. He kept a close score. One reason was for our income tax and the second, for his own thrills. He got a kick out of adding them up.

"At Blanche's, about two thousand and so far about three thousand at Grace's," he answered.

He didn't ask me why. Five thousand men. That really wasn't very many, I told myself, and Tom shouldn't care about them because they meant nothing to me. There had been women who had spent twice as long on the turf and then married a decent guy. Their men had forgiven them. I felt sure that Tom would understand.

"Come here, I want to show you something," John said when we reached home.

Reluctantly, I went with him. He led me down the street to where a brand new snow white Cadillac convertible was parked. He reached into his pocket and handed me a set of car keys.

"You can drive this to work now," he said, grinning.

I dropped my purse. I was too stunned or shocked to say anything. It was the most beautiful car I had ever seen in my life.

"It-It's miner' I squealed.

"It is if you keep up the payments," John grinned at me.

I threw my arms around his neck and started kissing him. I wasn't mad at him any more and I was so happy I wanted to cry. John finally pulled my arms from around his neck and he practically had to drag me to our apartment. I was so excited that I couldn't sleep and all I could talk about was my convertible.