Chapter 2

Tommy’s story:

“Uh, Mimi, don’t sell yourself short. You don’t have to be one of ‘those people’. There are ways out. I work with a bunch of miracles every day.”

“I thought you said you were an engineer.”

“I am. But some of my co-workers have come through some rough times themselves and I can’t think of a better bunch for you to talk with.” And I was thinking how so brave of me to already start volunteering the services of friends and co-workers for this person I’d just met.

A thought crossed my mind, so I decided to check something. “Uh, do you need us to hit a gas stop? I can fill up, you can go smoke if you need to...”

“I don’t NEED to go smoke...”

“I know some smokers, and some of them have trouble after an hour or so...”

“I can take it or leave it. When I get nervous...”

“Oh. I’ve heard that.”

“You’ve never smoked?”

“Nope. Never.”

“Oh. But if you need to stop for gas...”

“Eventually. Somewhere on the trip. Just was trying to accommodate you.”

“You don’t have to do that. You’re doing ME the favor.”

“Only decent to try to make things good for you.” I thought for a bit more. “Look, this next intersection has a big truck stop. I’m gonna change out of these wet clothes ‘fore I get pneumonia. I can give you shorts and a T-shirt. They’ll fit you like a tent, but they’ll be dry...”

“That sounds good. If you’re offering.”

“I’m offering.”

Five miles later we pulled off the interstate to one of the bigger truck stops. I rummaged through my luggage and pulled out two sets of shorts and T-shirts. I also pulled out a pair of briefs, caught her looking, said, “I dunno if this’ll work, but it keeps you from goin’ commando.”

“I’ll take it.”

I topped off the tank and then we both went inside. I was waiting with a bundle of sopping clothes when she came out of the female facilities. Her hair was still damp and with the oversized T-shirt and shorts she was holding in place with one hand, she carried the ragamuffin look right over the cliff.

“Want something for a snack? And a drink?”

“Sure.”

“Get it. I’m buying.”

“No, I have money...”

“Save it,” I said. “I’ll get this.”

“But I wanted a couple of corn dogs.”

“I love corn dogs. Get four. What d’ya drink?”

“Coke’ll work.”

I grabbed the drinks, she hit the hot counter for corn dogs, we paid, and were out the door.

Once buckled in, I fired up my SUV and we were off. Once on the road, she handed me a corn dog with a napkin.

“Can you put mustard on it?”

“Sure,” she laughed. “I shoulda asked. Since I’m fixin’ your lunch...”

“And doing an admirable job,” I laughed.

She smiled. Had to be a first one. This was it. Not bad at all. When she turned, the T-shirt sort of tightened around her. That’s when I realized that while a T-shirt did a good job of protecting most of her modesty, it had no service as a bra. A breast, smallish, pushed against the cotton fabric, punctuated with a noticeable nipple.

Okay, Thomas. This ain’t THAT. You’re HELPING, not scoring chicks. I went back to driving, one hand for the wheel, one hand for the corn dog.

I did note that she wolfed hers down. She was sipping her drink while I was still working on my second dog.

“If you were hungry, you could’ve said something...”

“Not your place to feed me,” she said.

“I didn’t say it was my place to feed you, but the opportunity to sit at a table and enjoy a meal with another human being is worth the cost of feeding that person, at least to me it is.”

“Uh, most of the meals others have bought me have had strings attached, lately.”

“Oh, there’re strings attached. I enjoy conversation. I’d expect you to talk.”

“I don’t consider talking to be the kind of strings I mean, and I doubt that you do, either.”

“I knew what you meant. I just wasn’t going there. This is a long drive and it’s familiar roads and having somebody to talk with ... It’s kinda pleasant for me. I hope it is for you as well. And you look happier dry.”

“I am happier. I was miserable.”

“I don’t normally carry clothes your size. That’s the best I could do.”

“Very satisfactory. Never wore a dude’s drawers before.”

“To the best of my knowledge, that’s the first time I’ve had a girl wear ‘em.”

“You said you had friends who’d been through some stuff in their lives. What kind of stuff?”

“It’s kind of strange. Three, no, FOUR of ‘em had pretty bad home lives. Three of ‘em had moms end up in jail. One of ‘em’s mom sort of turned her life around and she’s part of our community now.”

“Community? How’s your job a community?”

“Everybody gets treated like family if they want to be. Like I said, my boss is twelve ... It’s ... I KNOW it sounds strange because it really IS, but I love it.”

“Wow! I didn’t think shi ... stuff like that happened in real life,” Mimi opined.

“I dunno if it’s real life or not, but I’m gonna stay with it until I wake up, if it’s a dream.”

“So what were you doing in Florida?”

“Helping Mom and Dad. Their last baby bird flew the nest when my sister got married. They had a big house – too big – and wanted something cozier, so they bought one. I helped them move.”

“That explains a lot,” she uttered almost sadly.

“Explains what?”

“Being intelligent and successful and not using people. Stable family life.”

“I’m sorry...” I said, not thinking of anything more substantial.

“Don’t be sorry. You had a good deal. Mine ... Dad died from cancer when I was twelve. We did okay until Mom ran out of insurance money. She married this guy ... he never took a liking to me. I didn’t particularly like him, either...”

“You said you were eighteen? Graduated high school?”

She hung her head. “Noooo. Just didn’t’ see the sense in it. Too much stuff goin’ on. Home. Life...”

“And you saw running off with a boyfriend as a way out of that?”

“He wasn’t really a boyfriend. I mean, friend, maybe. Knew some people. Acted like he’d get me started ... I talked with a girl who danced at one of those places. She made a lot of money...”

“Probably wasn’t just dancing,” I said. “But what do I know? I’ve been in a couple of those things, running with buddies. Ain’t nothing there that I wanted rubbin’ up against me...”

“So anyway,” she said like she was relieved to be talking about it. “I moved in with Hank. That sort of made me a whore in Mom’s eyes and confirmed what my step-dad had expected all along. Hank dealt a little stuff on the side at bars ‘n’ parties and I never got to dance. Then he got picked up, so I hauled ass before the cops came to look at the place. I took all the money in the house...”

She saw my eyes. “Wasn’t stealin’, you know ... Just as much mine as his. And I hitchhiked up the road twenty miles and stayed in one a’them run-down motels that rents by the week. And I visited the truck stops...”

I saw tears in her eyes. “Step-dad was right. I really WAS a whore. Twenty-buck blowjobs and fifty bucks for a fuck ... then I guess somebody turned me in. Cop told me that I had a choice – hang around there and get run into jail or get my ass out of the county right then. In a fuckin’ rainstorm...”

“And that’s where we met...”

“Yeah, not exactly one of those fairytale meetings, huh?”

“Your stuff at the hotel...”

“They can have it. I got my money with me. I can buy some stuff at Wal-Mart. Maybe that place’ll have a program to help us homeless girls out...” She looked at me. “So what’s YOUR story?”

“I don’t have anything to compare with yours, Mimi.”

“It’s not a contest.”

“I had a normal life, I guess.”

“Those normal lives ain’t normal anymore,” she said.

“You may be right,” I answered. “Worst thing that happened to me physically was falling out of a sycamore tree when I was twelve. Broke my right arm. That wasn’t as painful as having my heart broken, though.” And why am I telling a ‘lot lizard’ this?

“I heard that,” she said, though. “I didn’t see a wedding band.”

“And you looked?”

She looked at me with a vestigial smile. “Of course I looked. I kinda kept track. Why? I dunno. But I did a lot of married dudes.”

“I never ‘did’ anybody. Maybe that’s my problem,” I said.

“Virgin?” she blurted. “Seriously?”

“No, not a virgin. Sadly. The first girl I did it with, I would’ve spent my life with. Or the second. Or the third...”

“Ohhhhh, I think I see your problem there,” she said.

“I guess the fact that you refer to it as a ‘problem’ is part of my problem. It’s not like that with some people, though. Back to my community...”

“You know people like that? People YOUR age?”

“Yes. And even a little younger. I dunno. It’s something to see. I see guys devoted to wives and girls devoted to their husbands and couples having babies and maybe Mom and Dad actually DID teach me something...”

“Gosh. Haven’t heard that in a while...”

“What?”

“‘Mom and Dad did a good job with me... ‘“ she mimicked.

“Doesn’t mean I didn’t really hate it when it was happening, but I guess I learned...”

“Good for you. Maybe I will...”

“I would hope you’d find something that made you satisfied with life,” I said. “Sometimes, I guess, being happy isn’t necessarily the same thing as being satisfied.”

“But it’s probably close, unless you’re some kind of psychopath,” she replied.

I’m thinking ‘psychopath’ used in this context, this is an interesting girl.

“Well, I like my job, but I like it for the challenges. I get to find a need, try to find a solution. Sometimes there are a lot of failures on the path to success, and believe me, when something fails, I ain’t smiling.”