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Chapter Twenty

Gloria arrived at Kitty's house a little late. Alex's photo shoot on the beach at dawn had taken longer than either expected. That moment of special light had passed very quickly early on. They went back to the motel and her car afterwards and since Alex had his camera they took more pictures in the room, less artistic ones. That meant fucking, then pictures, then Alex would get an idea. More fucking and more pictures.

She didn't understand the part about his come on her, but it didn't matter. She just didn't understand why he found it so exciting.

Gloria walked into Kitty's, shut the door quietly, then heard the kids in the kitchen. She walked in and saw Kitty relaxed out in the yard. The girls and Mark were clearing up the breakfast dishes and were involved in an argument about whether or not Timmy on Lassie had a girlfriend or not. Gloria walked outside and knelt by Kitty's chair.

Kitty looked over and smiled, she held out her hand to Gloria.

Gloria took Kitty's hand; they kissed.

"Thank you for the note."

Gloria smiled. "I tried my best." She stood as Kitty stood.

"Better get to work." Kitty looked into the house. "Aren't they great?"

"A younger brother is something they enjoy."

"Want me to pick up anything on my way home tonight?"

"Whatever you want for dinner." Gloria walked with her into the house. "Johnny and Michael are going out of town today." She followed Kitty into the bedroom. "I've made a hot date for you tonight. Ten p.m. until tomorrow morning. A couple of fellows you know."

Kitty picked up her purse. "Charles and Alex?"

"And Alex has something special to show you."

Kitty's eyes grew large. "He has two now?"

Gloria kissed her. "No, silly. One's enough."

Kitty hugged Gloria. "I have to go. You're not going to make me guess are you?"

"Extra special. At his home."

"A twin brother?"

"Better." Gloria gave Kitty's butt a pat as Kitty walked in front of her.

"Two twin brothers?" Kitty stopped at the door.

"Better even that that."

"Wow." Kitty grinned. "I can't wait." She looked past Gloria. "Bye, Mark."

Mark ran up and hugged her. "Bye, mom."

"Bye girls." She turned to Gloria. "Bye, Gloria." She left.

Gloria took Mark's hand. "Kitchen's clean?" She and Mark walked past the girls. "Good." In the kitchen, Gloria went to the refrigerator and studied Winifred's schedule. "Good, Winifred." She turned to Mary. "Tomorrow, Kitty will be home and I go to work. Plan your schedule accordingly." She turned to Winifred. "So, Miss Shakespeare. What do you need for your play?"

Winifred looked at Mary and Fancy. "Paper, pens, to start with. Then we need to make costumes."

Gloria sat down at the table. "You're in charge. I'll watch and drink gallons of coffee. Long night."

Johnny drank his coffee in The Pelican. He had a train schedule opened in front of him and he was ticking rows of departures with his pen. He looked up. "Hi, Steve."

Steve sat down, placed his hat on the table near the window. "I tried to call you last night."

"I was busy."

"Don't tell me." Steve watched the waitress as she poured his coffee.

"Wasn't planning to." Johnny folded up the schedule and slipped it into his jacket pocket. "What did you find out?"

Steve reached into a pocket, took out a notebook. He flipped through the pages, tore out one and handed it to Johnny. "That's it."

Johnny studied the sheet, put it into his pocket. "Thanks. I was going to visit Kitty next. Want to come along?"

Steve shook his head. "Talking to you is about as close as I should come to her."

"Sure?"

Steve nodded. "How's Winifred?" He sipped his coffee.

"I had a talk with her after you left. I'm sorry." Johnny shrugged his shoulders. "She's sorry, too."

Steve nodded. He looked at the traffic through the window. "You didn't do anything to her?"

Johnny sat quietly for a moment; he took a sip of coffee. "Maybe I should start using sugar. It tastes bitter to me today for some reason." He put the heavy white china cup down into its saucer. "I haven't touched those kids in any way. I don't want to, I don't need to, and besides," he grinned, "Maeve would kill me deader than dead."

Steve turned and studied Johnny. "Okay. I believe you." He paused. "Sugar doesn't help. I tried it years ago and it doesn't help a bit. You just have to learn to live with the bitter taste."

"Anybody I should say hello to in Jacksonville?"

"Can't think of anyone."

"You always this happy?"

"You should know. Ever try to imagine what was done to that good-looking young kid?"

"And her sisters." Johnny pushed his cup away. "Yes, I think about it."

Steve shook his head.

Johnny stood. "I need to get going. Sure you don't want to see Kitty?" He bent across the table and said softly, "Yesterday, after you left and after my talk with Winifred I showed her a lizard in the backyard. Most important thing I wanted to do at the moment. She showed me there were two." Johnny stood. "Thanks, Steve, for your help. I'll let you know what I come up with."

Steve nodded, sipped his coffee. He saw two bills fall across the closed Journal.

Maeve parked at the florist and took a moment to check her face in her compact mirror. Her lipstick was perfect, crimson. She wore no makeup otherwise. She felt naked. She put her compact in her bag, dropped her car keys after. She opened the door and stepped out of the Thunderbird. She moved differently in sandal flats rather than sandal heels, in tight jeans rather than a dress. She felt a bit awkward. She looked down at one of Johnny's dress shirts over a strapless knit top; the shirt was tucked in, but unbuttoned. She adjusted the front so it opened properly, stood and shut the car door. Having her hair in a ponytail made her head seem like it was being drawn back. She gave a shake. She did like the feel of it.

Mr. Benjamin, Tony, was neatening an arrangement in the showroom. Maeve stood quietly in the doorway and watched him. His hands moved quickly amongst the stems, moving one slightly to the left, another forward. He picked a rose bud from the table, clipped off a bit of stem, placed it in the arrangement. He brushed his hands upward, let them fall. The arrangement was perfect. He lay the clippers on the table and turned.

"Ready?" he asked.

Maeve nodded.

"Good. I need to find Martin to take over, then we can go."

"My car?"

"I was hoping. The panel van is too noisy to talk in."

Maeve smiled. If she had to choose between the two, the panel van would beat her cramped Thunderbird. She looked around. There were a few arrangements in the showroom; fading photographs hung on the walls. The room had a parched, sun blighted appearance. It wasn't an impressive display. As she walked around she heard voices in the back, arguing.

This shop had done the arrangements that had impressed her so when she had seen them at a party. It was hard to believe. She heard Tony and Martin talking. She studied the arrangement she'd just seen him finish. She tried to imagine it in different surroundings, against a brick wall, burning candles on each side, dimly lit room, seen not from above but from the side or slightly below. She could imagine that. She turned.

"Ready?" she asked.

Tony nodded, he waited at the door with a large notebook. "Ready."

Maeve walked past him, brushing against him lightly on the way to her car parked in front. She stood at the driver's door and waited, then got in.

During the drive to Lakefront Park she described the place and ceremony she wanted. Tony's questions were few; he made no notes.

At the Park, Maeve took Tony to the spot she selected and the location of the tent. Tony watched her closely as she talked, nodding.

"How many attending?" he finally asked.

"About twenty-four," Maeve said, watching and anticipating.

"Close, standing, or more distant, seated?"

"Standing, close."

Tony nodded. "Show me where you want to be."

Maeve walked to a stand of palmettos.

Tony nodded. He walked in an arc, watching Maeve and the foliage behind. "All right. You'll be wearing a red silk dress?"

Maeve nodded. "Satin silk."

"Is that dull or shiny?"

"Shiny."

Tony nodded. He knelt and made a sketch in his notebook.

Maeve watched him as he drew. She wondered if she was going to have to say it point blank.

Tony stood. "The tent will be over here?"

Maeve walked a few yards to her left. "About here."

"Tables?"

"One, each end."

Tony nodded. "What kind of lighting were you going to have?"

Maeve flushed. She hadn't thought about that.

"If you don't have a preference I can provide a suggestion."

"Please do."

"Railroad lanterns on the ground, there." Tony pointed to the spot near the palmettos. "Lamps here, in the tent."

Maeve nodded.

"I need to make some sketches in your car for a few minutes. May be a half hour."

Maeve led him back to the car. He sat with the door open and drew as she sat on the trunk. She listened to the birds, sea gulls, and the other birds she didn't know. She removed the shirt and lay it on the trunk next to her. She wished she had sunglasses.

Tony stood and brought his notebook to her and lay it open on the car. She slid off the trunk and went around to stand next to him, her side touching his.

"The ceremony," Tony said. "Palmetto backdrop, we'll bring in potted rubber plants and place them here and here, ferns at their base. The lanterns will be inside along here and here."

Maeve nodded.

"For the tent, a row of palms, on the table here, ferns, roses here and here, with lamps on each side. The other table will have ferns and three lamps, here, here and here."

Maeve nodded her head. Simple, she thought.

"I'll arrange rental of plants from local nurseries. I'll bring them here Saturday afternoon, set them up, take them away after the ceremony." Tony closed the notebook. "I'll furnish the tables, lamps and lanterns." He raised his eyes to hers. "You'll be buying the lamps and lanterns." He picked up the notebook. "The tent will have to be here when I'm ready to set up." He stepped away from the car. "Would it be possible to see the house the reception will be held at?"

Maeve smiled. "Johnny's house. I have the key. We could go there now."

"Perfect."

So far there hadn't been a glimmer of anything. It was as if she, or he, were a block of stone. She wondered what he would think of the photographs on the walls in the garage.

Johnny lay with Kitty in the motel room. He remembered the first times on the beach a few weeks ago, how good she felt. She snored quietly now next to him. He propped himself on his elbow and looked at her face. He touched her blonde hair, finer than Maeve's.

Kitty opened her eyes and gave a quick smile.

"How's it been here, so far?"

"Better. It's never been too bad."

"Gloria's working here tomorrow and Thursday."

"She'll have fun." Kitty sat up. "Will I see you tomorrow?"

Johnny kissed her. "Not sure yet." He touched her breast. "Things will settle back down again."

She nodded. She held his hand to her breast. "My pimp doesn't like me to dawdle with clients. In and then out, he says. Make room for the next fellow."

Johnny nodded. "You are not suggesting doing anything your pimp wouldn't like, are you?"

Kitty pulled her hand and his to her pussy. "Of course not. Give me another thirty and you can shove your cock into my pussy a second time."

"Pussy, ass or mouth."

"All three, one after the other." Kitty rubbed her pussy with his hand. "Ass last."

Johnny smiled. "I only have ten left."

Kitty brought his hand up to her mouth and licked his fingers. "Johnny, that's a fun game, but I don't feel like playing that now." She lay down on the bed.

Johnny put his fingers back in her pussy. He watched her face. After a few minutes he bent down and licked her breast. "Is this okay?"

Kitty nodded, her eyes were shut.

Johnny positioned himself and entered her pussy with his cock, slowly, as slowly as possible.

"Is this okay?"

Kitty nodded, her teeth held her lower lip.

Johnny took his time fucking her; at some point she wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him into her. He thrust rapidly.

Kitty clawed his sides and wailed. Her heels pounded his ass.

Johnny opened his eyes when he was done; she was watching him with a lopsided grin. He brushed her nose with his lips, rested his head on her shoulder.

Kitty held his head close to hers. "Finished yet?"

"No. Resting."

"Good," Kitty said. "I'm not done with you, either."

Gloria made lunch as the girls worked on the costumes for the play. When the sandwiches were ready, she walked to the living room which was in shambles.

"Lunch is ready." She watched them get up and walk to the dining room. She was odd person out; they were caught in a creative frenzy.

As they sat down she poured their drinks, milk for everyone but Winifred and her, who both drank coffee.

They talked as they ate; Gloria turned her chair so she could look out into the yard. When they had quieted, she turned back to them.

"If there is time," Gloria said, "after the performance, I was thinking of going for a drive this afternoon. Across the bay." She watched their faces. Mark was squabbling with Fancy about something. "I want to find a place so I can get a tattoo."

Mark stopped talking and stared at her. All of them stared at her.

"Like Popeye?" Mark asked.

"Not on my arm. But a tattoo like Popeye has a tattoo."

"Johnny and a rose," Winifred said," I bet."

Gloria shook her head. "No roses. Not Johnny's name. Tonight I'll show you some things some friends gave me. It's about that."

Mark looked at Fancy, then Gloria. "Can I get a tattoo, too?"

Gloria stood, "None of you are old enough for tattoos. I was going to read on the porch. You'll tell me when you're ready."

Winifred stood, began to gather dishes. "We'll be ready in a few minutes. Come on, guys. Help me."

Gloria had only two lines in the play. Once, when she was menacing the prince, she said, "I'm going to eat you, you're so good." Later, when she was gasping her last breath, she panted, "Thus all my sins condemn me."

She enjoyed the play, was pretty sure that Mark did, too, but some of the histrionics and double entendres confused him. Winifred's real audience was Gloria.

Gloria helped them pick up, fold up sheets and replace cushions on the furniture. Mark kept on wiping his face where the princesses had kissed him, but he was smiling.

Gloria put her note to Kitty on the dining room table, followed the kids out to her Rambler. They had a quiet drive, at least the front seat with Winifred and Gloria was quiet, across the bay on the causeway.

"Porpoises," Mark shouted.

"Over there," Fancy said.

Gloria looked to her left briefly. She could see the arching forms in the waves. She asked Winifred, "Can you see them?"

Winifred was twisted in her seat, looking over her left shoulder. "Yes. I think so."

"They are mammals. They have to come to the surface to breathe." Gloria drove a little further, then said, "The ancient Greeks had stories of sailors saved from drowning by porpoises. I think those stories are true."

Gloria parked the car on the street. This wasn't the best part of town, but it didn't look dangerous. More rundown than threatening. Storefronts promised everything from small appliance repair to curios. Mark was entranced by the shrunken head in the window of one shop; Winifred pulled him away, telling him that was gross. The tattoo parlor was a few shops down. The window was filled with drawings of tattoos; battleships and eagles, nurses with gentle eyes, daggers and roses. Gloria went in the open door, the kids followed closely behind.

The small man in the wheelchair said, "Howdy," to them.

"Hello," Gloria said. "I want a tattoo. Mark and the girls would like something like a tattoo."

"They're too young."

"Something like a tattoo." Gloria smiled. "Mark wants an anchor on his arm like Popeye." She watched the girls go to the wall to look more closely at the drawings. "Drawn on."

The man smiled. "Yeah, I can do that."

Gloria sat on the seat across from him. "This okay?"

"Sure, lady." He rolled the wheelchair two feet forward. "You want a tattoo. Sure about that? They don't come off. Have a design?"

Gloria opened her purse and took out a piece of paper with four ship's names on it. She gave him a smile. "You can call me Gloria." She handed him the paper. "These on my butt, small, so I can add more. You can do any design you want, but there will be more added from time to time."

"Stoney, mam." He looked up at her. "You sure you want to do this?"

"Only question is how much?"

"Fifty for something simple."

"Can you show me?"

"Yeah." He picked up a blank sheet of paper and did a quick drawing. "Like this."

Gloria took the sheet. The ships names were flanked by a small rose on each side. At the top of the design was a choppy line for the sea with a ship with billowing sails on it. Two small stars were in the sky. "That's beautiful, Stoney."

"Didn't think these hands could draw like that, did you?"

Gloria smiled at him. "That wasn't a concern, believe me."

"Mam, when you smile like that at me, I want to believe anything you say."

"Can you do it now?"

"Yeah, in the back room there."

Gloria stood. "Did you want to be paid beforehand?"

"I'm okay until I'm done." Stoney wheeled his chair around the table.

"Kids," Gloria said. "Stoney and I will be in the back. Pick out your designs." She said to Stoney, "I expect to pay for their tattoos, too." She said to Winifred, "Any problems, you let me know."

Winifred looked at her, nodded; her eyes went back to the wall of designs. She held Mark's hand.

Gloria followed Stoney. "They'll be okay, won't they?"

Stoney looked up from his equipment. "Roger keeps an eye on things, don't you, boy?"

Gloria smiled at the aging dog. "I bet he does. Where should I lie?"

Gloria thought the tattoo would hurt. It didn't. His hands were gentle on her. She expected him to be surprised when she took off her dress and he saw she didn't wear panties; he wasn't. He talked about his carny days, when he barked on the sideshow for strippers. He tried to make her comfortable, cracking jokes, but didn't try too hard and ruin things.

"This woman came in, see, said she wanted me to do a pair of black silk panties on her. I said, sure, I can do it, Stoney knows how. It would be a hundred. I do a good job on those panties. She goes to a friend and tells her about her silk panties, maybe she showed them to her and tells how much they cost.

"So this other girl comes in and says she wants a black lace bra. I do it and she says, how much?

"I tell her, four hundred.

"Four hundred. But you did my girlfriend's panties and they were only one hundred dollars.

"I looked her straight in the eye and said, Lady, I went in the hole on that one."

He laughed, then coughed. "I wouldn't have told you that one if I thought it would have bothered you. I'm done."

Gloria lay quietly. "You could go in the hole in this one, too, if you want, if you were sure the kids wouldn't hear."

"I don't do tattoos for free, lady."

"I meant you could do me for free if you want to."

"Thought so, all along. A couple days back a whole lot of men came in here wanting Gloria tattoos, and these are ship's names, I know that. You her?"

Gloria turned on her side. "I am. That bother you?"

"Do I bother you?" He grinned.

"No."

"I'll tell you what, you don't bother me any either. Why don't you get dressed?"

"Do you want me to suck on your cock?"

"Gloria, if those kids weren't out there I'd give you the whole nine yards, yes siree." His mustache danced.

Gloria dressed, followed him out into the shop. "Should I do anything special?"

"Don't wash it, let the dyes set for a week. You'll be okay."

"Mark, you ready for yours?"

Mark sat in the chair.

"Howdy," Stoney said.

"Hi. Will it hurt?"

Stoney looked at Gloria. "Did it hurt?"

Gloria touched Mark's shoulder. "Only a little bit. Your tattoo won't last like mine, so it won't hurt at all."

Mark smiled. "Okay." He put out his arm. "An anchor like Popeye."

Stoney picked up a pen. "You eat your spinach?"

Mark nodded.

"You like dogs?"

Mark nodded.

"Then, go pet Roger, he's in back there, when you're done. He likes kids."

Stoney finished with two small stars.

"What are those?"

"My signature. Anybody sees this tattoo will know old Stoney did it for you." He put his pen down. "You're done."

Mark looked up at Gloria. "It didn't hurt at all, like you said."

Winifred was next. She asked him, "Where are you from?"

"Near Anawalt, near Bluefield way."

"We're from near Prichard."

"Where's that?" Stoney looked at her.

"Big Sandy, West Virginia side."

Stoney nodded. "Been with the circus near there. Miss home?"

Winifred looked quickly at Gloria, then back at Stoney. "A little. We had to leave."

"On the road?"

"Sort of."

"What do you want?"

Winifred touched her left breast. "A big rose and Johnny, right here."

Stoney looked at Gloria. "Mam?"

"It's okay to wear it on your arm, Winifred, so everyone can see it."

Winifred nodded slowly. "Then here." She held out her left arm.

Stoney and she talked quietly while he drew the rose and put the name in a banner under it. Gloria could barely hear them where she was, with Mark and Roger.

Fancy and Mary had the same tattoos as Winifred.

When everyone was finished, Gloria paid Stoney.

"Thanks, mam."

"Gloria."

"Thanks, Gloria. You bring those girls by again. I haven't heard a West Virginia voice for ages. I had a good time, I hope they did, too."

"We all did." Gloria held out her hand. Stoney took it and they shook. "Maybe I'll be by sometime when I'm alone and you can show me the whole nine yards."

Stoney grinned. "Yeah."

At the car, Gloria told the kids to sit and wait for her. She'd forgotten Stoney's card. She walked back in his shop.

"Hi, Stoney."

"Howdy. Didn't expect to ever see you again."

"I forgot to get your card."

Stoney searched on his table, found a business card and handed it to her.

"And, I wondered if the girls told you anything you think I should know. We're, some friends and I, looking for their sisters."

Stoney thought for a moment. "Don't think so. They like you, they love Johnny." He grinned. "You could guess that."

"Anything at all?"

"Just a feeling that home was a sad place."

"Thanks." Gloria bent and held his face as she kissed him. "I meant it about the whole nine yards, I'll be back."

Stoney nodded, resumed working on a drawing.

Johnny and Michael sat across each other in a club car on the Atlantic Coast Line train to Jacksonville. Johnny had a coffee; Michael was trying to nurse a beer.

"We're going to Jacksonville, Gloria, Kitty and Maeve are back home. This had better be good, Johnny." Michael took a sip, looked out the window, then quickly back. He didn't like the feeling of everything falling away.

Johnny smiled. "It's a long story. We'll be trying to track down two pimps, maybe a girl, or two, of theirs." He took a sip of coffee, watched Michael's face. "Should be fun."

"Now tell me the long story."

"Briefly," Johnny grinned, "very briefly, Gloria and I picked three girls up off the street Friday. And yes, Maeve knows. They're too young. One was 14."

Michael took a drink of beer. "Okay."

"We didn't get their sister. I kick myself for that. I should have followed them, left Gloria with the girls."

"Them."

"The girl and the man hitting her."

Michael nodded. "Am I supposed to like or not like this man?"

"You may have met him. Gloria believes he was one of the men on the Pier that first Sunday. She met him again at the library while sitting Mark. They had some lunches together, nothing more than that."

Michael took a sip of beer. "Go on."

"So he's left town, the girl has disappeared. With him, probably. He was last in Jacksonville, that's where he picked up the girls. Their former pimp lost one of them in Philadelphia. He may still be in Jacksonville. We'd like to know more."

"We?"

"Maeve and I. The police are helping but they aren't helping a lot. Just whores."

Michael finished his beer, ordered another. "I don't think I like that man. Okay." He looked closely at Johnny. "Names."

"The girls we have are: Fancy, fourteen; Mary, fifteen; and Winifred, seventeen. Winifred's a pistol. Their sister, Darlene is eighteen. Their oldest sister is twenty: Cherry, Sylphie or Sylph."

"That's it?"

"The kids are good looking. Winifred's well developed. We didn't get a good look at Darlene. All we have is a name."

Michael nodded. "You have this written down somewhere?"

Johnny pulled a notebook out of his pocket, tossed it to Michael. "That's yours. You are an honest to god detective now."

"Gosh, Johnny." Michael grinned. "Pimp's name?"

"Gloria knew him as Matt, almost six feet, suntanned, blond hair, good looking. Drives a late model, sounds like a '56, light blue Ford. Girls called him Mack. The name he gave to his landlord was Marshall Owens. There is the address and name he gave as a reference in your book.

Michael nodded. "Other pimp?"

"Things get iffy here. Fancy called him S, Mary called him Shove, Winifred called him Steamshovel."

"Steamshovel?"

"You got it."

"Colored?"

Johnny nodded.

"Any more?"

Johnny shook his head. "Not really."

"Where'd they work out of?"

"On the street, a spot near that diner on Center."

Michael nodded. "No police record?"

"Doesn't seem to be."

Michael nodded. "Not at it long, then."

"Six months, we're not sure."

"Home?"

"Nothing about home."

"Drugs?"

"Seem to be clean."

Michael nodded. "Steamshovel." He shook his head.

"I was planning on riding in cabs, talking to cabbies, visit working girls on the street, talking to people."

"You and I?"

"Separately."

"We have money? I didn't bring much." Michael grinned.

"When we get there. We have reservations at The Mayflower on Bay Street. Separate rooms in case we have to conduct interviews."

"You're right. Sounds like fun." Michael finished his second beer. "Should have brought my gun."

"You have one?"

Michael eyed him and shook his head. "Of course I have one, my Army forty-five." He grinned. "It's a bit heavy for the pocket."

At their hotel they made plans where to meet up for dinner. Michael had one last question, Does the youngest one look young?"

Johnny nodded.

"Not an early bloomer?"

"A kid."

Michael smiled. "Maeve know you're diddling them on the side?"

"I'm not."

"Sure you're not. Okay," Michael said. "See you later." Michael walked off.

"See you, partner."

Each cabby Johnny talked to knew where there were girls, but none of the places they wanted to take him to would have had the kind of girls he was looking for. Instead, he had each one take him to a particular district, near the docks, the theaters, areas where he imagined he'd see women on the street. He thought about the area back home where the diner on Center was, part industrial, part commercial, mostly run down. Not close to the center of town, the business district, not too far away, either.

He didn't know Jacksonville, though. He checked his watch, an hour till dinner with Michael, he had the cabby drop him off at a bar. Johnny went in, sat at a table, ordered a cola, got a dirty look, got a cola and paid for a beer. He waited. Nothing happened. It was too early yet to get discouraged. He left his seat and walked to the bar.

"Hey," he said.

"Want another coke?" the barkeep asked.

Johnny shook his head. "I'm in town for business, I've finished business and am now looking for something else."

"Coke something or whiskey something?" The bartender wiped the bar.

"A girl, coke or whiskey, I don't care."

"Five dollars."

Johnny pulled five dollars out of his pocket and handed it to the bartender who turned around and left. Johnny wasn't sure how he was supposed to go about doing this. He hoped his innocence wasn't too obvious."

The bartender came back with a piece of paper. "She'll take care of you."

"Show her this?" Johnny said, holding the piece of paper.

"If you want. She'll want to see something with a bit of green on it."

"Thanks."

"Tell her Mick sent you."

"Thanks, Mick."

"My name ain't Mick." The bartender walked away.

Johnny looked at the piece of paper in the cab; it had just a name and a number. He'd call her after dinner.

Michael was late; he didn't apologize, just sat and grinned. "Boy, these interviews are punishing."

Johnny smiled. "Having fun?"

"You mean am I happier here than at home, eating dinner with you guys and Gloria, instead of just you? Drawing cards to see who owns her for the night; even if my card is low I get to screw her, several times, she loves it, she's not bored, she's not hoping I'd hurry up. You're asking if I'm happy giving up all that?"

Johnny nodded. "I'm asking."

Michael spread the napkin on his lap. "Actually, it's not bad. With you paying. If I was paying I wouldn't be happy. But with you paying, I'm having a blast."

"Ready to order?" the waiter asked.

"Liver," Michael said. "The works with it and a Black Label."

"Steak, potatoes, peas, coffee," Johnny said. After the waiter left, Johnny asked, "I thought you hated liver?"

"I do." Michael took a sip of water. "But the way things are going, if I don't fortify myself my pecker might fall off." He grinned. "Besides, it's hotel food, all from the same animal."

"You're in a good mood."

"I'm in a very good mood. Matt, Mack, Marshall is in town, only he's just Marsh now." Michael held up his hand. "Don't inquire into my methods, just appreciate the results."

"Can we talk to Marsh? Tonight?"

"Don't know."

"Back home I've been telling people, twenty-five dollars tip, five hundred to talk to him. I want to buy the girl."

Michael nodded as their meals were brought. "Too much money. Makes people suspicious." He looked at his plate and shook his head. "You want to trade?"

Johnny smiled.

"Didn't think you would. Anyway." He took a drink of beer. "What you do is give a girl some money, do whatever you've paid for, then chat. You're not a cop, just a stupid, nosy schmuck and who gives a. Maybe Marsh owes you money, she doesn't care." Michael cut his liver into small pieces. He grinned at Johnny. "What I'm willing to do for you and Maeve."

"And, so your pecker doesn't fall off."

"There's that." Michael made a face as he chewed.

Johnny called the number on the paper and made a date. He left out the part about Mick sending him. A half-hour later she showed up at his hotel room door, in her twenties, maybe. Pretty, maybe. It was hard to tell. She wanted to see a twenty before she walked in the door.

"Like a drink?"

"What do you have?" She threw her purse into a chair, took off her dress, but not her slip. She sat on the bed.

"Rum, scotch, bourbon."

"Bourbon," she said, her mouth puckering, making fun of him.

"Straight or with ice."

"Straight."

Johnny poured and handed her the glass. He poured himself a scotch with ice. "Cindy, I . . ."

"I'm not Cindy. I work for Cindy." She set the empty glass on the floor.

"What would it cost not to rush things?"

"As if you'd give another fifty, right." She stood up and walked to the chair, grabbed her dress.

"How much for all night?" Johnny started to unbutton his shirt.

She threw the dress back onto the chair. "Okay, bud. All night's eighty more, no fancy," she minced, "stuff, and I get to drink all the," she spit it out as two words, "bourbon I want."

Johnny pulled out a hundred, set it on the bed.

"Maybe some fancy stuff." She took the bill and put it in her purse. "I don't like getting my ass fucked."

"I don't either," Johnny smiled.

She picked her glass up off the floor, handed it to him.

Johnny filled it, handed it back. "My name's Johnny."

"And mine's Doris Day."

"Miss Day or just Doris?" Johnny kicked his shoes off.

"Just Doris." She grinned at him. "Johnny." She set her glass down on the side table. She removed her slip and bra, she didn't wear panties or a girdle, and tossed them on the chair with her dress. She sat on the bed, watching him.

"You don't mind if I use a rubber?"

"Could care less." She reached for her glass, took a drink, turned back to him.

Johnny climbed onto the bed; Doris followed.

She was a relaxed fuck, didn't expect much, didn't get much. Since Johnny had met Maeve, he'd had sex only with three women, her, Kitty and Gloria. Doris was different; they all were different. There was less to hold on to, less reason to hold on to anything.

Doris lay in bed afterwards watching him dress. He poured her a drink and handed it to her, she set the glass on the table by the bed.

"Going somewhere?" she asked.

She is pretty, Johnny thought. He realized it was because she was relaxed now, not like earlier. He sat on the bed and touched her leg. "Okay?"

"Sure, you paid for all night."

"I want to go out, I'd like you to go out with me."

She watched him for a moment. "Hungry?"

"That, too." He stood.

She thought for a minute, then got off the bed. "You in a rush?"

He smiled at her. "No, take your time."

"I need to wash." She walked into the bathroom.

Johnny waited while she made a call in the lobby from a pay phone. She didn't want to do it from the room for some reason. She opened the door to the booth and walked to him.

"Thanks. Anyone sees me out on the town might have questions. Where to?"

Johnny held out his hand. "The hot spots. I'm looking for a certain girl."

"I'm a girl."

Johnny squeezed her hand. "A particular girl, Darlene."

"My name isn't Doris, it's Darlene." She grinned at him. "You're not going to fall for a whore, are you, Johnny? You're naive, but not that naive."

Johnny called a cab on the street. As they were sitting in it, side by side in the back, again holding hands, he said, "Doris, I'm a pimp. I already have enough girls. Besides you'd never fall for a pimp."

"I always fall for pimps, dear." Doris looked out the window. "This is a bad joke, Johnny. Come up with another."

"Darlene is my brother's daughter. She's run away from home."

"Cute?"

"Beautiful. West Virginia accent, I lost mine years ago. She still has it. Almost southern, but not."

"Why'd she run away?"

"She fell in love with this man, Marsh, who turned out to be a pimp."

"Sounds familiar."

"Doris, you any good with a phone?"

She looked at him closely. "Maybe."

"There might be a job for you where I live. Just phone work; take messages, kind of like Cindy, I expect. Keep track of receipts. Pays well."

"How well?"

"Five thousand a year plus bonuses to start."

She nodded. "Not bad."

"Think about it." Johnny took a card from his card case. "Here's my number."

"Just Johnny?"

"Easier to remember."

"Anything else about Darlene?"

"She'll have bruises on her face, maybe more."

"Marsh is a nice guy."

"He's a pimp, isn't he?"

"They are all shits, some are pure evil shits."

Maeve stood at the door to the garage and watched Tony. He walked across the room slowly, measuring the space with his eyes. He didn't seem to notice the wall covered with pornographic photographs.

Maeve stepped into the room. "This is Johnny's rumpus room. There's beer in the refrigerator. Would you want one?"

Tony turned. "Interesting space. Will guests be in this room also?"

Good question, Tony, Maeve thought. I haven't made up my mind about that. If the event should be private, just her and Johnny. Or more public. With the girls and Mark present, she was leaning toward public. She smiled. "The room will probably be off limits most of the evening."

Tony turned to the wall. "What does Johnny do for a living?" He smiled back at her. "If I may ask."

"He's a publisher, amongst other things. That's his current project."

Tony turned again to the pictures. He pointed out one. "I think this one of you is my favorite." He smiled at her over his shoulder. "I really should be going. Martin, as you know, has his limitations." He walked toward her. "I should have drawings and an estimate ready tomorrow. Should I call you?"

Maeve stared at him. She pulled down her top so her breasts were bare. "Tony, I was hoping . . ."

Tony touched her arm. "Never with clients, sorry." He stepped toward the door. "Should I call a cab?" He stopped and turned. "I really am sorry. I hope I didn't do anything to suggest."

Maeve shook her head, pulled the top over her breasts. "You're right. It wouldn't be proper. I can drive you back, I need to talk with a caterer."

Tony waited at the door. "Do you have someone?"

Maeve shook her head. She passed him, opened the front door.

"I have a suggestion. I'll give him a call when we get back to the shop."

"Thank you." Maeve got into the driver's seat and waited. She wondered if Johnny had Gloria's Al's number somewhere. He and his friends sounded like fun. If not him, there were plenty of bars. She hated the idea of calling her brother, Ronald. Not really hated. He was a decent screw. It was just she was saving him for Kitty.

Kitty finished the day a little later than usual at the motel. She'd spent hours with Johnny. She'd fucked nine men, she didn't know how she'd lucked into that easy group of three, besides the motel owner, big Bob as she called him and Johnny, of course. After paying the owner and Bob she had $232.50 left over. She thought she'd go to that place on the beach for dinner with the kids.

She'd get to see Gloria twice, going and coming, back at ten. She wondered how Maeve was doing without Johnny. She wondered how Johnny was doing without Maeve.

She turned the car radio on and hummed along. She wondered what Charles and Alex would want to do tonight. Well, she smiled, she knew. She just wondered.

Gloria sat in the bar with Alex and Charles. Beers again, nervous friends, more this time, coming up to say hi to Alex. She sat draped over him. Charles grinned at her when no one was looking. She grinned back, whispered things in Alex's ear that made him lose track of his conversation. She enjoyed being the bad girl.

Alex had to leave to go to the restroom. Gloria leaned across the table and asked Charles if he wanted her to suck his dick. He shook his head, "Not now," he said, but he winked. Gloria sat back in her seat.

Alex came back and Gloria repeated her question to him. He shook his head.

"I'd do anything you want." She did the tongue trick, ran it across her lower lip, which she thought probably looked silly. Alex didn't seem to think so.

"Anything? Anything at all?"

Gloria smiled. "Try me."

Alex stood up. "Wait right there. I need to talk to some people first."

Gloria watched him walk to the bar, talk with people at the tables, and then leave. She looked at Charles.

"He's gone to get his camera." Charles nursed his beer, then looked at her. "You'd really do anything?"

"Say something and I'll tell you." She leaned across the table and whispered. "I can't think of anything you and Alex couldn't do, couldn't invite your friends or stranger to do. Anything. Try me."

Charles thought. He began to say things several times but stopped.

"Hard yet?"

He nodded his head.

"Want me to suck your dick?" Gloria smiled.

Charles tried to speak; a look of relief appeared on his face when he saw Alex come back with his camera.

Alex sat at the table. "You said anything, right?"

Gloria grinned. "Anything."

"Then what I want you to do is take off your dress, everything. Wait." Gloria sat in her seat. "Then I want you to kneel, facing the camera. Everyone will stand behind you. Charles will pour a beer." He looked at Charles. "Do you think one is enough?"

Charles shook his head.

"A pitcher of beer, more maybe. I want you soaked. I'll take your picture. Then I'll come over and hold out my hand. You'll take my hand, stand and turn and face everyone. You'll say, 'Now Alex is going to take me to a motel and fuck me.' And we leave. Charles, you get her clothes." He looked at Gloria. "Is that all right?"

"You don't want to share me with your friends?"

"Just what I told you."

"Sure. But you could do more." Gloria stood, unbuttoned her dress and took it off. She stepped out of her heels. "I'm naked." She did a turn. "Did you see my new tattoo?"

Charles stared. Alex picked up his camera and walked to the other tables.

"I guess I'm on." Gloria leaned close to Charles and gave his nose a kiss. "Anything, Charles." She walked toward the bar.

Alex took his time arranging the shot. Gloria enjoyed the attention, worried a little about her tattoo. She didn't want it to be ruined. She figured if she stayed away from soap she'd be all right. She winked at the wide-eyed man staring at her.

Alex had her kneel; he stood back. "Okay, Charles. Pour."

Gloria gave a jump as the first pitcher of beer was dumped on her.

"More Charles. Her hair needs to be wet."

It took three pitchers to satisfy Alex. He told everyone to smile; he shot three pictures. Then he walked to Gloria, held out his hand. She took it and stood. Gloria kissed him, careful not to rub against his precious camera. He started to walk toward the door. She followed.

"Your line," Alex whispered.

"Oh," Gloria said. She stopped and turned. "Now Alex and I are going to a motel. He's going to fuck me silly, aren't you, Alex?"

Alex nodded, resumed his walk to the door.

"Bye. I hope to see you all again." She said to Alex, "You'll bring me back, won't you?"

Alex nodded. Charles followed them with her dress and shoes.

When they were in the car, Gloria said, "See Charles, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

Charles shook his head.

Gloria patted his leg. "Just think. Anything."

Alex said to Charles, "Your turn tonight with Kitty. I'll just be along for the ride."

"You'll show her your pictures, won't you?"

Alex drove; in a moment Gloria said, "Need any gas? I know a great way to get Green Stamps."

Maeve sat in the living room, alone. She couldn't find Al's number, Ronald wasn't at home, and the caterer was a bust. She weighed the pros and cons of going out. She decided she'd flip a coin; heads she'd go, tails she'd stay. She went to her purse and chose a fifty-cent piece. She tossed it into the air, caught it and slapped it against her hand. She looked. It was tails. So, two out of three. She tossed the coin, caught it, slapped it against the back of her hand; maybe that way would work. She looked, tails.

She sat on the couch. This was crazy, she tossed the coin a last time, let it fall on the floor. She bent to look. It took a minute for her to find it. Tails.

She left the coin on the floor, sat on the couch and thought. All right. She'd stay at home. She wouldn't die if no one fucked her for twenty-four hours. She tried to remember the last time. Before Johnny, lots of times after she and Ronald had moved here. After Johnny. She couldn't remember a single day when several hadn't fucked her, three or four, easily.

She sat and thought for a moment. She got up, opened a beer, poured the foul stuff out, and carried the bottle back into the living room.

There's one, she thought. There must be more in the house.

When she went to bed, hours later, her little men, as she thought of them, in a basket on the bedside table, a carrot in her hand, she thought, it's not been a bad evening. Better than I expected.

She slipped the carrot into her pussy. They were quite good fellows. She was sure they would be able to do it again before she went to sleep. Better than most men and certainly cleaner.

Mr. Carrot fucked her as Miss Finger, her little Kitty, helped her along.

She tried, unsuccessfully, not to moan. She didn't want her little fellows becoming jealous. It wasn't that some were better than others, it was never that. It was the moment. That was all. The moment and her little Kitty.

Gloria opened the door carefully and went into Kitty's house quietly. Her heels were in her hand; she walked slowly into the dimly lit living room, then stopped when she saw Kitty and Winifred talking on the couch.

Kitty turned and smiled, gave Winifred's hand a clasp, then stood up.

"My turn now?" She asked.

"They're outside, waiting." Gloria walked to the couch. "Hi, Winifred."

"Gloria." Winifred stretched.

"Be back in a minute." Gloria followed Kitty to the door.

"Have fun? You look like it."

Gloria smiled. "Gave them something to think about." She hugged Kitty. "I'll see you tomorrow morning."

They kissed. Kitty held Gloria's face between her hands. She tried to speak, couldn't.

Gloria pulled her close. "It's okay. I know." She patted Kitty's fanny. "You're Charles' tonight. He's getting ideas." She took a step back. "Have a fun time. Think of me."

Kitty smiled. "I will." She went out the door.

Kitty rode between Alex and Charles. Neither said anything, just grinned at her.

"Where're we going?"

"Motel first," Charles said.

"Nice one?"

"Okay," Alex said.

"Just okay?" Kitty asked. She gave Charles' leg a squeeze.

"The bed's a little bit of a mess."

"Just rumpled?"

Alex grinned. "No."

Kitty thought for a moment. "You still have some left for me, don't you?" She moved her hand across Charles' crotch, gave a squeeze.

"You tell her, Charles."

Charles was quiet for a moment. "I can't say it, you tell her."

Alex came to a stop at the light. "The motel is our first stop. Then a bar. Then back to the motel, then my place, then back to the motel."

"Sounds like fun," Kitty said.

"Well, there's more." He grinned at Charles. "You're going to have to tell her or all we'll end up doing is driving around."

Charles sat quietly for a long time. They pulled into a motel parking lot, parked by one of the cabins. He looked at Kitty, smiled awkwardly. "Gloria said she'd do anything we wanted."

Kitty nodded. "Sounds like Gloria."

"We were wondering." He looked across Kitty to Alex.

Alex nodded.

"I can't say it."

"Go on."

"I don't bite," Kitty said. She gave Charles' crotch another squeeze.

Charles looked down, then across to Alex. "Let's just go inside."

"What about the rest?" Alex said.

Kitty unzipped Charles' pants, stuck her fingers inside. She leaned against Charles' side, whispered into his ear. "When we're at that bar, I know a way to get you guys free beers." She licked the lobe of his ear.

Charles shook his head. "I still can't." He looked across to Alex, "Sorry."

Alex leaned back against his seat. "That's okay."

Kitty kissed Charles' cheek. "That's okay. Why don't we go inside? I want to see this bed of yours."

Charles nodded and unlatched the door. Alex got out, opened the cabin door, and turned on the light. Charles said to Kitty, "Would you be willing to take off your clothes here, in the car, then knock on the door for us?"

She grinned. She unbuttoned her shirt. "Sure."

Charles looked at her. She thought he was blushing. He left the car door open, went into the cabin and shut the door.

As Kitty removed her jeans she wondered how long she should make them wait.

Kitty lay on the bed. It was sticky and smelled like beer. They both had fucked her, which had been fun; they were good friends. Not like Johnny, but fun.

She wondered how things would be going if Michael were here. He wasn't shy, but he wasn't as weirdly creative, either.

She sat up as Charles handed her a glass of wine.

"Cheers," she said, raising the glass.

Charles looked at Alex, then back at Kitty. They quickly took a drink.

Kitty took a sip. "Good wine," she said. "The bar is next?"

Charles picked up the bottle of wine, looked at Alex.

Alex bent to Kitty. "He wants me to pour wine on you so he can lick it off."

Kitty nodded. "Okay." She smiled at Charles. "Pour away." She lay down, setting her glass on the table.

Charles looked at Alex.

"Go ahead, she said you could do it," Alex said. He took the bottle.

Charles climbed onto the bed.

Kitty pulled him close to her so his chest pressed against her breasts. "Next time surprise me, just do it." She kissed his nose.

Kitty lay on the wood floor of the small room. She was on her back, a wine bottle stuck in her pussy. The men were sitting at a table playing cards, poker, talking quietly with each other. Charles and Alex and two or three others, she wasn't sure. Sometimes people came into the room, sometimes people left. Her eyes were shut, Alex had done her face, several had done her face, or maybe it had been Alex several times. It wasn't easy to tell with her eyes shut.

It was strange having everything so slow like this. Usually, with Johnny, everything happened quickly, kept on happening.

Now she would hear people talking; she'd hear footsteps, someone came up to her. Sometimes people played with her breasts, had until someone, Alex maybe, came on them. Now they told her to play with her breasts. Everyone wanted to feel the bottle in her.

When someone won a hand the room was noisy, and then everyone became quiet to see what would happen next. She'd be fucked or made to do something.

She was surprised at the physical distance between her and them, except for those brief moments when she had a cock in her mouth or pussy. They felt so far away. She was surprised at the closeness she felt with her surroundings; every sound meant something, their voices, the cards and coins, the sound of shoe leather on wood, clothing. She could hear them rubbing themselves, hands on pants legs, elbows against sides, scratching. They were jittery, anxious, ready to jump up and shout.

She was ready to jump up and shout. She read meanings into sounds, a hush at the table made her body tense, a shoe by her ear, creaking, had her body arching toward the sound. She was excited. Not fifteen guys in her pussy slamming away excited, not crying excited, but her body vibrated.

The room was quiet, now everyone was moving. Chairs were scraping; she felt them close to her. The bottle was out of her pussy, hands on her shoulders, making her stand. She was pushed into the table, bent over, held face down against the table.

Fingers stroked her ass, found her pussy, and directed a cock into her. He didn't drop his pants; she could feel cloth and belt press her. He fucked her for several minutes; she couldn't move.

When he was done, they pulled her off the table, handed her the bottle. As she lay down, she could hear chairs scrape, men sitting. She put the bottle into her pussy, held it there.

She heard voices, heard Charles say, "Sure, go ahead." Then she heard footsteps, clothes rustle. A hand took the bottle and pushed it in and out of her.

Kitty arched her back. "Don't stop," she said in a whisper.

Gloria wanted to wait until her hair dried before going to bed. The shower at the motel had removed most of the gunk, but since she didn't use soap she smelled of beer and sex.

Winifred sat next to her reading quietly. Gloria was too tired to read, she looked at a Life. She liked that Winifred wanted to read on her own, though reading wasn't effortless for her. With books around Winifred and her desire to read, she would become more proficient.

Gloria stood. "Would you like something to drink?"

Winifred looked up from her book. "Whiskey?" She grinned.

Gloria shook her head. "I don't think Kitty has any alcohol. I'll check." She smiled. "If not, would you want hot chocolate?"

Winifred nodded. "I want to see how you make it." She stood and followed Gloria into the kitchen.

Gloria opened the refrigerator door to get out the milk bottle. When she shut the door she noticed Mary's schedule on it. She put the milk on the counter and read the sheet.

Mary's writing was cramped, didn't look like the writing of a fifteen-year-old. Instead it looked like that of a child of five. Her schedule said: "Kitty takes us shopping."

Gloria turned to Winifred and smiled. "What does she like to shop for?" She measured milk and poured it into a pan to warm.

"Licorice."

"That's good to know. You?"

Winifred shook her head.

"Why not?"

"I always want everything." Winifred looked out the window into the garden. The moon was out; they could see dim shapes of bushes and trees.

"What do you really want?"

"Can't have that either." Winifred sat in a dining room chair.

"There's a good book store in town, but you can always get books for free from the library." Gloria put a cup of hot chocolate on the table next to Winifred. She carried her cup to a chair and sat. "Want to learn how to drive? That doesn't cost anything."

Winifred stared at her. "You'd teach me?"

Gloria nodded. "Have to get you a learner's permit first so it's legal."

Winifred shook her head. "They won't give me one."

Gloria touched Winifred's knee. "I think they will. If not, Johnny knows people."

"When?"

"I'll talk to Kitty. Maybe tomorrow when you are out shopping. It may not be until next week."

"And you'd teach me?"

"Kitty and I'll teach you."

Winifred shook her head, stood up and went to the window facing onto the garden.

Gloria sipped her hot chocolate. A few minutes passed then Winifred sat down and joined her. Her tattoo looked sweet on her slender arm.

Gloria put down her cup. "My husband was killed in the Korean War. For years I slept alone. It was terrible each night, just me and his cold ghost. Since meeting Johnny, most nights I've had someone to sleep with me. It gets so lonely at night. Would you be willing to join me? Nothing else, I know you're not interested that way. Just two women, companions and friends." Gloria waited.

Winifred gave a nod. "What was he like? Did you love him?"

Gloria smiled. "He was tall and strong, a hand-worker who put himself through college. He wanted to teach more than anything." She stood. "I still love him."

Johnny and Doris sat in the restaurant and talked as Johnny watched the groups of men there. A few women were present; most women came in then left after meeting with a man.

Doris stirred her coffee. "When it rains," she lay down her spoon in her saucer, "the men stay dry, their girls come in soaked."

Johnny nodded. "See anybody you know?"

"Not very well."

"Were you on the street long?"

"Too long."

"Like it better now?"

Doris sipped her coffee. "I'm dry, aren't I?"

"Thought any about the phone job?"

"A little." She looked away from him.

"Bonuses can be large."

"Maybe a little more." She looked back at him. "Not that interested in moving to a strange place."

"You could visit, overnight. Get to know the people, get an idea of the set up."

"Could." She put her cup down. "Do you want me to ask one of the guys?"

"I don't see anybody with a tan. Do you know anybody named Steamshovel?"

She shook her head.

"Shove, S?"

"Nope."

"Where do the girls work?"

"Main's a good start."

"When you're done we'll take a look."

"Done. I about poisoned this coffee with cream."

"Dead?"

"All four feet in the air and twitching."

Johnny smiled.

Doris stood. "Don't go falling in love with me."

Johnny stood. "Is it a place we can walk to?"

"Not far." She smiled at him. "Just follow the chippy's trail."

"Tail?"

"You heard me."

Johnny leaned against the wall. Doris had walked further up. It would take hours to see every girl. He looked at his watch. Almost time to check in at the hotel. He pushed himself off the wall and walked slowly up the street. He had never looked so many women, girls, in the eye.

He studied the women across the street; most acted bored, some seemed anxious. It was getting late, automobile traffic had thinned.

Streetlights changed colors at night, made the streets look gray. Johnny saw Doris ahead talking with a woman. Johnny waited.

When Doris and the woman were done talking the woman walked away. Doris walked toward Johnny.

"She's one of Marsh's girls."

"Young?"

"How'd you guess?" Doris' arms gripped her sides.

"Fourteen? Fifteen?"

"About that."

"Do you think she'd talk to me?"

Doris looked around. She turned to Johnny. "Take her there." She took a step and was in a shadowed doorway.

"Thanks, Doris."

She nodded, looked up the street.

Johnny walked to the woman just as a car pulled to the curb. "Miss," Johnny shouted.

She looked at him.

The car window rolled down, a man inside the car said something to her. She turned to the car, stepped toward it.

Johnny stood between her and the car. "Get lost," he said to the man in the car. "I saw her first."

The man opened the driver's door and stood, "Buddy, you have a lot of nerve."

Johnny turned and faced the woman. "You're coming with me," he pointed to the cheap hotel with his chin. He handed her a twenty. "Okay?"

She looked at the man in the car who was yelling at them. Johnny took her arm and walked her away.

"How much would he have given you?" Johnny didn't wait for the answer. "Twenty?"

She shook her head and walked with him, facing forward.

When they were in the lobby, Johnny had a chance to see how she was dressed. Light skirt, blouse, no slip, he guessed, simple hair-do, scuffed heels that wobbled. Johnny paid for the room, the register was a formality, and they walked up the stairs.

Johnny used the key to open the door, held it open for her, and closed it after them.

The room was brown, walls, floor, windowpanes, bed covers, sheets too, he expected. She already had her blouse off, no slip, no bra. Johnny smiled. Just like his girls. He watched her skirt fall to the floor. She got on the bed without pulling down the covers.

Johnny took off his shoes and socks, sat on the bed and watched her while he took off his shirt. He unbuckled his pants, stood holding them and faced her.

"Why did your sisters say you were eighteen, Darlene?" He buckled his pants. He watched her. Bruises, old ones, some new ones, not too bad.

She stared at him, covered her small breasts with her arms.

Johnny picked up his shirt. He buttoned it, then picked up her clothes from the floor. He laid them on the bed, stepped away.

She watched him. Too scared all the time to be scared.

"Dress, then we'll talk for a few minutes." Johnny leaned against the door. "You can keep the twenty." He smiled. "My name is Johnny, by the way."

She stood, slipped on the blouse, stepped into the skirt, drew it up and fastened it.

"Okay, sit." Johnny joined her on the bed. "Fancy, Mary and Winifred are with friends of mine. I'm taking you back with me so you'll be with them." He paused. "Okay?" He smiled. "As in, do you understand?"

She nodded, biting her lip.

"Your sisters are off the street. Okay?"

She nodded.

"They're getting along. New clothes, a cute kid, Mark, they stay with. Okay?"

She gave a slow nod. He saw her hands were squeezing water out of the air.

"No one hits them. Okay?"

One nod.

"Or you from now on. It's over. Okay?"

She shook her head.

"Mack, or whatever he calls himself, is going to have to make do without you."

She shook her head. "He needs me, he told me so."

Johnny shut his eyes and took a breath. He opened them and looked at her.

"Can you get in touch with him?"

She gave a nod.

"He comes by now and again to check on you?"

She nodded.

"So he'd be worried if he didn't find you."

She nodded and smiled slightly; her face became serious.

"How long do you think it would take him to find us?"

She shrugged her shoulders.

"You'd really go back to him rather than your sisters?"

She nodded, "He . . ."

"Needs you." Johnny thought for a moment. "Okay. We'll leave a message for him, so he doesn't worry." Johnny stood. "We wouldn't want him to worry." He held out his hand. "Where's the best place to leave a message?"

"Mickey's."

"Near here?" He shook his fingers impatiently. "Give me your hand."

She stood, stepped toward him, gave him her hand. It felt small in his, fragile, like a bird.

"Kiddo, we have a long night ahead of us." Johnny let her hand go. He looked at her sharply as he took his memo book and pen from his pocket. "See, I'm not a monster." He handed her the book and pen. "Write Mack a note. Tell him I'll be at Mickey's tomorrow at nine in the morning to meet him. Tell him you're okay, whatever you need to so he doesn't worry."

Johnny paused as she wrote. "You his only girl now?"

She shook her head.

"That's good. I bet the other girls aren't good to him like you are, are they?"

She watched him. "He needs me."

"He tells you so. I know. Done?" Johnny watched her write the note.

She looked at him, handed him the book and pen.

"Okay. That's good Darlene. I'll take this over to Mickey's in a few minutes. If Mack is there I'll talk to him, if not I'll leave this note." He held out his hand. "You and a woman are going to spend the night in a nice hotel, downtown. One of the big ones. You and she are going shopping for clothes tomorrow while I talk with Mack. Okay?" He led her to the door, turned and said to her, "How old are you, Darlene?"

"Eighteen."

"I mean really how old."

She shook her head.

"That's okay. You'll like Doris."

They left the hotel and met Doris waiting for them.

"Doris, we need a place where we can all talk." He turned to Darlene, "Hungry?" He asked Doris, "A diner or restaurant close by or I can get a cab?"

"A place to eat or a decent place to eat?"

"I'll call a cab. You'll have to make sure Darlene doesn't run off. Marsh needs her, you see."

At the restaurant, while Darlene ate, Johnny and Doris talked. Doris kept her eyes on Darlene. It didn't look, to Johnny, as if Darlene had eaten well lately.

"So, I'm hoping you'll let me impose on you, Doris. You and Darlene will have to take a room together at The Mayflower. Leave a message at the desk telling me your room number." Johnny smiled. "I'm afraid I won't be able to let you finish that bottle of bourbon." He said it as two words and grinned.

Doris smiled. "I know."

"I'll need another day, one hundred twenty okay?"

She nodded. "Whatever."

Johnny reached into his pocket and peeled several bills from the roll. He placed them on the table, pushed them to Doris. "For the hotel, extra day, plus you and Darlene are going shopping for new clothes, decent stuff, couple days worth. We'll see each other in the morning. There's some in there for you, too. Treat yourself to a new outfit."

Doris gave a slow nod, picked up the money. She looked at it, gave Johnny a quick glance.

"Don't worry about it." Johnny smiled.

Doris folded the bills and put them into her purse.

Johnny took out his wallet, pulled a few bills from it, and handed them to Doris. "Small stuff for the cab."

Doris took the money. "I thought you said she was eighteen."

"I thought she was. That's what her sisters told me."

"You a detective?"

"You said you didn't want to know what I was."

"What are you?"

"You really asking like you honest and truly want to know what I am and what I'm doing."

Doris turned to look at him. "I am, honest and truly."

"I'm a pimp who's going to buy this girl from her pimp who she says needs her. She'll be with her sisters, and then I'll have to figure out what to do next; some of my girls are watching them. They won't be hooking." He grinned at Doris. "You have no idea how much all of this is costing me."

Doris turned to Darlene. "You really think that Marsh needs you?"

Darlene looked at them both. "He does."

"He told her so." Johnny looked at Darlene. "Ready, or do you want seconds?" He grinned at Doris. "The Mayflower has room service, don't be afraid to use it." He stood. "We're done then. I'll get a cab for you. I have an appointment with Mack. I'll call you when I get back." He nodded toward Darlene. "She'll want to know." He said to Doris, "I think you are probably the best person in the world to tell this young girl about men like Marsh."

Go to the next chapter of Comes the Bride.
Chapter Eighteen | Chapter Nineteen | Chapter Twenty | Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two | Chapter Twenty-three | Chapter Twenty-four | Chapter Twenty-five
The Schedule

The first part of Switch: a novel is Switch.
The second part of Switch: a novel is The Babysitter.
The third part of Switch: a novel is Comes the Bride.
The fourth part of Switch: a novel is The Revolver.

Disclaimer: Some of the things the characters do in this story are seen as offensive or frightening (even terrifying) by some if not most people. Please don't surprise anyone. Always ask first. Have an agreed upon safe word even if you don't do BDSM.

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