Chapter 3
A week later Kay sat in an office in Anchorage, listening to a short, balding man who explained, "Your father was really not well off. Once the cannery's been liquidated, it's doubtful if assets will cover liabilities."
"What does that mean?" Kay asked.
The lawyer paused, running a handkerchief over his bald spot. "Succinctly," he said, "It means you're broke."
Broke didn't mean much to a girl who had always helped herself to whatever she needed at the company store. After a moment she asked, "Do you mean I won't have any money?"
"I'm afraid not." The balding lawyer braced himself, expecting an explosion of some sort. He was puzzled by Kay's total lack of reaction.
Kay knew about poverty. She had just never applied such a possibility to her own future. "I suppose I'll have to get a job, won't I?"
The lawyer coughed. His bald spot turned bright red and his eyes gleamed. "Not necessarily," he explained. "Your father and I were associated for many years. I'm not about to see an old friend's daughter turned out into the snow."
"Snow? It's summer."
"Figure of speech," the lawyer explained. "Now, I have a small apartment on the other side of town. You can stay there for a while-until we can think up better arrangements."
"Oh?" Kay was puzzled. She had met the lawyer's motherly wife and liked her. Somehow she had expected to be invited....
The short balding man coughed again. "Mrs. Veely's not been well lately. I really couldn't impose more housework on her."
Kay had assumed she would do her share of housework, but if Mr. Veely had other plans...."But I'll have to earn my keep somehow," she protested.
Mr. Veely seemed to be having trouble breathing. He fished a key from his pocket and handed her a hundred-dollar bill. "There's a cab stand right outside the office," he explained. "For appearance's sake it's probably better that you go alone. Umm, yes. Much better. Now, you move your things out of that hotel to my little apartment. The address is right there on the key."
"I don't know how I'll ever repay you...."
Mr. Veely put a fatherly arm over her shoulders and squeezed. "I'm sure we'll find a way," he said. "As a matter-of-fact, I'll be around this evening and we can discuss it."
Vaguely mystified, Kay took the key and the money. Moments later she had removed her meager belongings from the hotel and was stepping into the apartment.
It was a nice little place: kitchenette, a knotty-pine living room with a polar-bear rug before the fireplace. But there was no bedroom. Puzzled, she inspected the apartment. The refrigerator was filled. There was whiskey, brandy, and several liquors she didn't recognize in a small cabinet in the living room.
The bath was larger and more luxurious than she had ever seen. Its mirrored walls and ceiling seemed oddly out of proportion in so small an apartment. Kay wandered about bemusedly, wondering if she was to sleep on the couch. She inspected the liquor cabinet again. She decided to taste the whiskey. She poured a cautious teaspoonful. It was terrible.
Putting the bottle back in the cabinet, she leaned against a lever and the bedroom mystery was solved when a Murphy bed descended from the ornate knotty-pine paneling. Kay put her clothes in the closet. There were a few recent issues of Playboy, but she found the stories even more boring than the improbable females in the centerfolds.
The floating cannery where she had spent her first twelve years had possessed only a shower. And the convent shower was considered equally good for the soul and the exchequer. Kay decided to risk mortal sin by trying a bathtub for the first time in her life.
It felt so good she knew it must be sinful. She reveled in the feel of soap and hot water, scrubbing her armpits, her crotch, very gently soaping her tender young breasts.
She stood before the multiple mirrors, wondering if Tommy Taskoosh knew his impetuous wooing had cost Kay her father. There had been no word of his boat anywhere. She had said nothing about the incident. In the rush of Sam's funeral, Kay realized that she had forgotten the scandalous scene.
She surveyed her lithe young body in the mirrors. She knew her self-admiration was sinful. Girls were supposed to dress and undress under the covers. But she wanted to know what had provoked Tommy's sudden seizure. She was not much taller than the local Indian girls, but her lithe body made her look taller.
Indian girls never had much waist. Maybe it was that tiny twenty inches between her burgeoning hips and those troublesome, still-growing breasts that had turned Tommy on. It couldn't be my straight, waist-length hair, she decided. Tommy's seen enough of that.
There was body powder and an immense powder puff. She dusted her smooth young body. The smooth feel of her hand over her tender breasts reminded her of Tommy's grip as she exploded. Would another man ever grab her like that? She hoped not. Finally she turned away from the mirrors and began deciding what to wear. Apart from school uniforms she only had two dresses so it didn't take long.
Then Kay hesitated. After the hotel bill and her cab fare she still had twenty-eight dollars left out of the money the lawyer had given her. It was still early afternoon. She put on her coat. I've held a man's thing in my hands, she rationalized. I can't go much deeper into hell for buying a bra.
The saleslady wore an elegant coiffure and clothes of such sophistication that Kay felt reluctant to enter the shop. Finally she plucked up courage and asked for a bra.
"Next counter," the elegant saleslady said.
Kay picked one up and looked helplessly at it. Finally the saleslady noticed. She wore an identification pin that said, Miss Purlett. "Are you having trouble?" she asked.
Kay hesitated. "I've never had a bra before," she admitted embarrassedly.
Miss Purlett's eyebrows raised. "Hmmm. Perhaps you'd better step into one of the dressing rooms."
Kay followed Miss Purlett into the tiny cubicle and struggled out of her dress. Beneath it she wore the bottom half of a suit of long jeans with the legs cut off just above the knees. Miss Purlett's eyebrows arched again. "Very practical for this weather," she said.
"I suppose so," Kay sighed. "It's all I could find when we left the cannery."
Miss Purlett whipped a tape measure around Kay's tender young breasts. "Only thirty-four!" she murmured. She slipped the tape down over Kay's waist and was even more incredulous. "They look so big because your waist is only twenty," she explained. "Hmmm. Hips thirty-two." She exited, and Kay stood alone in the. cubicle. Moments passed. An elderly man with a broom and dustpan stuck his head in. "Oops, sorry," he said, shuffling out and looking anything but sorry. Kay had her back turned when Miss Purlett returned with a handful of brassieres.
"My, you have a nice young body!" Miss Purlett said. "I wish I could be like that again."
"I don't know why," Kay said. "I was just wishing I could be like you and know all about clothes and things."
"How far back in the woods did they keep you, dear?"
Kay sighed. She felt Miss Purlett's hands around her waist. The elegant saleslady stepped behind her and cupped her hands over Kay's tender young breasts. "They're so nice and firm, you really don't need support," she said. "But we can't have you flopping all over the place like some Women's Lib freak."
"They don't flop," Kay explained. "It's just that they're sore and this dress scratches."
"I know, dear. I remember when I was growing." Miss Purlett cupped her hands over Kay's breasts, and again Kay was reminded fleetingly of Tommy. Miss Purlett's hands remained cupped over her breasts, gently supporting them. Her hands were warm and soft. Daintily, her fingers parted to make room for Kay's ultrasensitive nipples. She knew how to support Kay's firm young breasts in just the right way to relieve the ache. It felt heavenly to Kay-just like the hot bath she had had an hour ago. Kay sighed.
She began wondering. She had stepped into the cubicle to be fitted for a brassiere. Instead, Miss Purlett was standing behind her, cupping her breasts in soft warm hands. Puzzled, Kay felt warm fingers very gently begin to massage her tender nipples. She felt so deliciously warm and relaxed. Blood rushed to her face and neck. She felt a warm blush descend from her head to her tiny waist. Suddenly she remembered. "About the bra...." she said.
Abruptly Miss Purlett was all business. Within minutes Kay had been fitted with a bra that had wide satin straps guaranteed not to cut into her shoulders. She was puzzled by Miss Purlett's abrupt icy manner. "I'd like to buy some more things," she said wistfully, "But I just don't have the money right now. I'll have to find a job pretty soon."
Miss Purlett thawed abruptly. "Job?"
"Yes." Kay explained about her father and the cannery.
Miss Purlett was thoughtful. "I have a partner," she said. "I'll have to talk it over with him, but maybe you could work here for a little while. In the summer, business picks up and we could use an assistant."
Kay noted the empty dress shop, and she wondered if she had come into the shop during a lapse in business activity.
"Give me your address and I'll let you know," Miss Purlett continued.
Kay finally remembered the address.
"Old Randy's place!" Miss Purlett exclaimed.
"Randy? I don't know his first name, but he was my father's lawyer," Kay explained.
Miss Purlett smiled. "I'll see you soon," she repeated. "I'm sure we can work something out."
Kay walked back to her apartment. The bra did nothing for her figure, but she felt more comfortable. Why, she wondered, did everything that tasted good, or smelled good, or felt good, have to be part of the Devil's work? She shuddered. It was dangerous to think such thoughts when the sisters had said that Satan was waiting everywhere to ensnare young girls who lusted after nylon underthings and bathtubs full of hot water.
There was caribou steak in the freezer. Kay got one defrosting, then ransacked the refrigerator for greens. The refrigerator was amazingly well-stocked for a vacant apartment. Kay wondered who the last tenant had been.
After supper she washed the dishes and re-explored the apartment. This time she found another button that exposed a TV.
That was something else the sisters hadn't approved of. She fumbled with the controls and learned how to tune it. She was just settling down to a giveaway program when she heard the scratch of a key. A moment later the door opened.
"Mr. Veely?"
It wasn't the short balding lawyer. It was Miss Purlett. "Mr. Veely was called out of town on business," she said. "I dropped around to see if there was anything you needed."
"You know Mr. Veely?"
"He's the partner I was telling you about."
"Oh?"
Miss Purlett grinned slyly. "Guess who dreamed up the business to send him out of town?" She laughed.
Kay smiled uncertainly. She had no idea why Mr. Veely had to leave town. Miss Purlett obviously knew her way around the apartment much better than Kay did. She gave the TV a look of distaste, turned it off, then poked hidden buttons that started some kind of sensuous thumping music on a hidden hi-fi. She found mixer and ice in the refrigerator.
"I don't like whiskey," Kay said when she was offered a glass.
"Really? Probably you've only had it straight.
Try this."
Kay sipped cautiously. She had to admit it wasn't as disgusting as the spoonful she had sampled that afternoon.
Miss Purlett poked more buttons and a wood box appeared. She got a fire going, then squatted on the polar-bear rug in front of it. "Come on down here, dear," she said. "It's much more comfortable than up on the couch."
Kay didn't think it would be, but she didn't want to seem impolite.
Miss Purlett kicked off her shoes and sighed. She stretched luxuriously and lay on the polar-bear rug, staring into the flames. "What's your name?" she asked.
"Kay."
"Tocaya!"
"What?"
"It's a Spanish word. It means a person who has the same name."
"Your name's Kay?"
"Catarina," Miss Purlett said. "I was born in Bolivia."
"Oh?"
"My father was a mining engineer." She snuggled closer to Kay. "My goodness, take off your shoes and relax. Nobody's going to bite you."
Kay took off her shoes and lay beside Miss Purlett. Miss Purlett tossed more wood on the fire and it became uncomfortably warm. "Let's take off our dresses," she said. 'No use getting them all wrinkled."
Kay complied, remembering the winter evenings aboard the floating cannery when she and old Sam had lounged about, wearing nothing but thermal underwear. But this time she wore only the bottom half of her long Johns. From the waist up she was clad in the bra Miss Purlett had sold her this afternoon. She watched in envy as Miss Purlett peeled off her dress to reveal the most amazingly dainty black satin bra and lace-frilled matching panties. Miss Purlett sat on the rug, slowly and sensuously removing her heavy stockings. Finally she lay down beside Kay again. "There now, isn't that more comfortable?" she asked.
Kay guessed it was. At least it wasn't quite so hot.
"You went to school in a convent?" Miss Purlett asked.
Suddenly Kay was talking, spilling her own heartbroken twelve-year-old's version of her first parting from old Sam and the floating cannery.
"I guess he must've known he hadn't long to live," she concluded. "Otherwise, why did he suddenly bring me home?"
Kay began sobbing.
Miss Purlett gave her a sudden vicious pinch.
Miss Purlett patted her, comforted her, kissed her until finally Kay calmed enough to gulp, "Why did you pinch me?"
"Don't you feel better now?"
Surprisedly, Kay realized that she did. She relaxed in Miss Purlett's arms, then wondered if she would ever possess a lush ripe body like hers-a body that wore black satin underthings as if they were painted on. While she watched, Miss Purlett removed her black satin bra. Miss Purlett's full firm breasts sagged slightly as she gave a gusty sigh of relief. "If the world weren't full of gawky men, I'd be a nudist," she sighed. Kay thought it was a strange attitude for a woman who made her living selling clothes.
She offered no resistance when Miss Purlett unfastened her arm-breakingly hard-to-reach catch and unfastened Kay's own bra. They relaxed before the fireplace. After a moment Miss Purlett got up. "Finish your drink, dear. I'll make us another."