Chapter 6 - I Wasn’t a Fuckin’ Social Worker

Early hours of the morning, traffic was light, ‘n I cut across town, heading back home for a few fuckin’ hours less sleep than I needed. Half way, stopped at a red light, dropped off to sleep, ‘n woke up to a horn blasting me from behind. Figured it was time for another coffee, ‘n I pulled over the first coffee shop I saw.

One of those all-night diners, flat-rate breakfast 24/7, as many refills of cheap-shit coffee as you wanted. Starbucks it wasn’t, but fuck, Starbucks coffee was crap. The black shit places like this sold was the real fucking McCoy. Perfect for two fuckin’ am. Strip the enamel from your teeth and bring the dead back to life.

Speaking of the dead, looked like the zombies musta drunk some of that coffee...

Half a dozen walking dead sat or lay on the sidewalk outside, wrapped in plastic to keep the rain off. The only thing moving was their eyes as they watched me lock the car ‘n walk towards the door, ignoring the fuckin’ rain coz what the fuck else could you do.

“Anyone touches my fuckin’ car, I’ll put everyone of you fuckers down,” I snarled, easing my Browning out far enough for them to see before it disappeared again. “Leave the fucking thing alone ‘n I’ll buy you all a fucking coffee on my way out.”

The eyes understood.

Fuck, I needed a couple of mugs of good black java to keep me awake long enough to make it home alive. If the walking dead didn’t swarm me first, but what the fuck, didn’t look like they were moving, ‘n I had reloads after all.

I walked in, fuckin’ dripping, and it wasn’t the excitement. Fuckin’ rain.

Dunno how the frigging dive was still open. Musta been a health inspector on the take or something, coz you’d have to have a fuckin’ good immune system to survive anything you bought here. Except maybe the coffee, as long as you used a paper cup and not the chipped old china mugs lined up on a coupla shelves behind the coffee percolators. Looked like the dive hadn’t changed since the friggin’ sixties. Looked like it hadn’t been cleaned since the friggin’ sixties either, but what the fuck. Coffee was coffee, ‘n the old dude behind the counter was probably the original fuckin’ owner. Eighty if he was a fuckin’ day but his hands were clean. Figured what the heck, I’d survived worse.

Usual clientele for two in the morning in a dive like this.

Coupla drunks shoveling a coupla slabs cut from the losers from Golden Gate Fields ‘n fries down and talking incomprehensible shit over each other. Some old druggie in the corner leaning against the wall, mug of joe in front of him and completely out. Half a dozen IT geeks with burgers and coffee yapping away at each other about some fucking software crap. Musta been pulling an all-nighter and decided they needed some calories or something to keep at whatever fucking problem they were babbling about.

Couple dudes in suits, ‘n yeah, a few strip clubs up and down the road round here ‘n I could smell the cheap beer and cheaper perfume like a miasma around them as I walked past. Sorta dudes that were gonna cop an earful of shit from their wives when they made it to wherever the fuck home was, which was maybe why they weren’t eyeing the young chick perched on a stool at the counter.

She was trying, but she wasn’t any kinda Asian baby girl, and I did a quick check, but no Asian gangsta wannabe’s hanging around. Chickie was on her own and kinda glancing timidly at those business dudes now and then, ‘n I did a quick fucking double take as the guy behind the counter wandered up.

No wonder they weren’t looking at her.

Girl was jailbait, which was kinda what you’d expect in a dive like this in a neighborhood like this. Like a lotta Asian girls, coulda been twenty, coulda been twelve. Personally, I was thinking she was fucking down there at the low end but you never knew until you checked ID. I’d looked like her when I was fourteen. When I was twenty for that matter. Chinese from the look of her. What the fuck was a kid like her doing in a joint like this at two in the fucking morning.

Stupid fucking question.

After that second look, I knew exactly what the fuck she was doing.

Or at least, what she was trying to do. Must be a real newbie. She had no fuckin’ clue. Kinda wondered if she was a runaway trying to hustle for a few bucks. Out on her own? She wasn’t gonna last long, ‘n fuck, I wasn’t a social worker but I knew what’d happen to her if I didn’t fuckin’ do something.

Fuck it! I wasn’t a fuckin’ social worker.

“What’ll it be, lady?” The old counter dude eyed me. Musta been seventy if he was a day, ‘n he hadn’t shaved for about three days. “Not that safe for a lady like you round here this time of the night. You need an Uber or you gotta car?”

“Right outside the door.” I gestured, taking a coupla paper napkins from the dispenser ‘n drying my face ‘n giving my hair a quick wipe.

“Lemme know when you’re leaving, lady, I’ll make sure you get to it. What’re you having?”

“Cup of joe ‘n microwave me a couple of those White Castle burgers will ‘ya? Add on half a dozen coffees for those dudes out there on the sidewalk. Throw in a fucking muffin each or something, I’m feeling generous. Use the stale ones though, I’m not that fuckin’ generous.”

The girl was eyeing me now, ‘n that second look I took she she looked about right to be one of Johan’s girls. One near the lower end of Johan’s bell curve, ‘n that wasn’t that fucking old. What the fuck was she doing here? Second look and yeah, well, I didn’t rfeally need to guess, did I?

“Those burgers are carcinogenic,” she said, maybe a bit primly, and okay, dressed like she was, looking like she did, talking the way she was, that kinda confirmed it.

“Everything in Cali-fuckin’-fornia’s carcinogenic,” I said. “We all gotta die from something, ‘n cancer’s a long way out on my friggin’ radar. Anyhow, what the fuck’s a kid like you doing in a place like this at...” I glanced up at the clock on the wall back of the counter coz I couldn’t be fucked fishing around for my mobile. “ ... Fuckin’ two in the morning?”

“It’s rude to swear like that,” she said.

“It is!” she said, when I stared at her. Hadn’t expected that.

“Here’s ya coffee, ma’am,” counter dude said, sliding the paper cup across towards me along with a carton of cream and a few sachets of sugar. “Help yourself.”

He started on the order for the sidewalk zombies. Girl looked kinda hungrily at the muffins.

“Gonna get one?” I said, in Cantonese.

““No money,” she said back. In Cantonese. Fuckin’ poor Cantonese. Guess she really was a banana, more or less. Looked like she wanted to cry.

I’d aced that one, ‘n I gave her a bit more than a cursory look. A real little China doll dressed a few years older than she was. Heels that didn’t suit her. Short little black skirt showing skinny legs. Black tank top, no bra. Next to no tits either, ‘n her lipstick was sorta amateur hour, like it was her first attempt or something. That red really didn’t suit her. Pink woulda been way better. Least she hadn’t dyed her hair blonde like I had.

“Fuck!” I said, adding enough cream and half a dozen sachets of sugar one by one.

Counter dude eased himself in back of the counter.

“If you’re not gonna buy anything, you better get outta here,” he said to the girl. “None of those guys are interested and you can’t hang around in here all night, kid.”

“It’s raining out there,” she said, ‘n I could see those tears in the corners of her eyes. Could see she was frightened of going out there too, ‘n with good fucking reason. Girl like her, first predator that rolled up and she was about as fucked as a fawn in a field full of hyenas. Prey, that’s what she was, and she had the helplessly innocent eyes of a fawn.

Rest of her looked pretty good if you liked the young ones. She was almost beautiful and if it wasn’t for the slightly smeared lipstick and the clothes that gave her that amateur hooker look, she woulda been beautiful. Nice legs, long and slender. Slim hips. Flawlessly silky skin, but that expression on her face said she was newly old, with an education that hadn’t been part of her high school curriculum. If she was even at high school.

Pretty damn recent education from the fresh bruises I could see.

“Glass of milk ‘n a couple of muffins, buddy,” I said, my head twitching towards the girl. “Coupla fresh fuckin’ muffins.”

“You’re paying, lady,” he said. “That’ll be eight bucks for the coffees, twelve for the muffins, n’ five bucks for the burgers.” He eyed the girl ‘n shrugged. “Milk for the kid’s free.”

He took an opened carton from next to the coffee machine and placed it on the counter along with a paper cup.

The microwave was beeping, ‘n I was fucking starving. So was the girl coz she snarfed one of those muffins the instant it was down on the counter in front of her, ‘ne she was pouring milk and eating like she hadn’t eaten in a week. Maybe she hadn’t.

“Keep the change,” I said, sliding three ten’s across the counter.

“Here ‘ya go,” the dude said, dropping the White Castles onto a plate ‘n sliding them across in front of me.

“Better make it two more,” I said, sliding a ten across the counter and sliding one of my White Castles onto the girl’s plate.

She didn’t even look up ‘n she was already into that burger. Guess she wasn’t too fuckin’ concerned about cancer after all.

“When was the last time you ate something?” I asked.

“Yesterday morning,” she said, swallowing.

“They’re carcinogenic,” I said. Couldn’t resist.

She just eyed me and took another bite. Guess she was hungry.

“I told her I’d call social services if she came in here again.” Counter dude kinda shook his head.

“And yet here she is,” I said, kinda sarcastic.

“What the fuck am I gonna do,” the counter dude snorted. “Toss her ass out into that shit out there?”

Coz it was fuckin’ heaving down now, big fat droplets splattering against the glass like a swarm of flies hitting your windscreen at sixty miles an hour.

“Why didn’t ya?” I asked, taking a bite outta my White Castle. Always liked ‘em at two in the morning. Give ‘em to me at lunch time ‘n I’d puke. Perfect in the dark hours of the morning with the frigging rain heaving down outside though.

“Didn’t have the heart,” the old dude said, “‘n besides...” He nodded towards the door.

“Shit,” the girl said, glancing over her shoulder. “Shit shit shit,” ‘n she looked at me, scared as fuck, face turning pale.

“Do you like girls?” The words came out in a frantic burst, ‘n she swallowed. Poor little bitch was sweating. Sweating? Looked like she was gonna puke. “Two hundred? I’ll do anything you want.”

She looked like she was gonna cry as well as puke. “Please?”

“What’s your name?”

“Hannah. Please.” That please came out as a whimper.

Saw him outta the corner of my eye as he walked towards us. Towards Hannah. White guy, fish white. That funeral pallor that you see on a corpse or on a pimp that only comes out at night, with that tough-guy swagger, the muscle tee and the tats that said he knew he was tough ‘n he’d done some time. Tracks down his arm said what he spent his cash on. Sorta tough guy that might’ve appealed to a girl like this one when she first met him.

Nice Chinese girl, getting a thrill from dating a big tough white guy way older than she was. All her friends would see her with him and ooh and ahhhh, ‘n she’d have enjoyed her friends knowing she was walking a little on the wild side. Tough and edgy, that’s what she wanted to appear, until she found out that walking on the wild side had a few risks she hadn’t expected.

Mighta thought she was tough ‘n edgy, and maybe she thought she was street smart too, but she hadn’t known shit.

He’d have played her. Tough and scary, the bad guy with the heart of gold or whatever, ‘n he’d probably have charmed her panties off and gotten into her. Romance, true love, all that shit until he’d run off with her, or abducted her, and here she was at two in the morning trying to turn a trick, ‘n I was sure she knew the tough guy better now. A lot fucking better, coz she was scared shitless. Heard the story a hundred times before, ‘n I didn’t need her to spell it out to know what’d happened.

The way she edged away from him, that quiver of her lips ‘n the teardrops in the corners of her eyes said she wasn’t scared of him. She was fuckin’ terrified, ‘n I kind of sipped on my coffee ‘n waited to see what was gonna happen next, although to be fuckin’ honest, I was already close to knowing.

“You made any money yet, bitch?” Yeah, he had that tough-guy voice down pat.

“Hey,” the old counter dude said. “Leave the kid alone.”

“What the fuck’re you gonna do about it, pops?” tough guy snarled, ‘n the counter dude kinda wilted. Meant well, I knew, but kinda way too fuckin’ old for this street shit that was going down and the cops weren’t security. They wouldn’t be here 24/7 and this place was probably his life.

He wasn’t gonna risk it all for some chink bitch he didn’t know.

Couldn’t say I blamed him.

“So, bitch. I asked you a question?”

She swallowed. “N-n-no.” She stuttered.

“Why the fuck are you in here then, bitch, and not out on the street hustling?” he hissed.

“It’s raining,” she shivered. “It’s horrible out there. I’ll catch a cold. My mom always tells me not to go out in the rain, and I’m cold.”

She was, too. She was shivering. Wasn’t exactly tropical inside either.