Chapter 3

Things happen for a reason; I firmly believe that. Going back to see El ended up not as badly as I thought it would. A lot of things happened that day. I know now my Karma really took a hit, both good and bad.

Seeing El again was not the traumatic experience that day.

Getting back home, parking the car and almost reaching the lift up to my floor should have not been the problem it was. Ashley was there, right there waiting as though she expected me to be there. The only thing I could think of was this was a hit and Ashley was the ‘hit-man’; woman, no girl. When she asked, “You looking for a ‘good time’ sailor?”

Now that was a surprise! No not that she did not intend to kill me, nor what she suggested but that I was seriously considering a response to her question. I actually liked what I saw, if I thought El was too young for me, there was no question Ashley had to be what, 16, 17 no more than 18 yet there was something special about her that made me take notice.

I stood there, towering above her a good 8 or 9 inches. I must have looked like a fool, mouth opened, and whatever would be a better term for ‘speechless’ on my face, no that’s it, ‘dumbfounded’. The lift door opened, she took my arm and sort of pulled me into it. I had no choice but to go.

The entire way up to my floor the only thing I could see was the top of her head. She was so close and held onto me so tightly that I could almost feel every breath she took.

“You smell so good” she said as she buried her face into my chest.

For some unknown reason I too placed my arm around her, hugged her to me tightly then lowered my lips to the top of her head and kissed it.

We got to my suite; by now we were indistinguishable as two persons. If this was the ‘standard mode of operation’ for a prostitute I was never getting married again. By the time we went through the door, yes a ‘we’, we were still mimicking one big body. All 98 pounds of her added to my 250 were now ensconced on the settee. When tears started flowing from her eyes I got the idea that something was wrong, really wrong in her life.

For some strange reason I pulled onto my lap, wiped some tears from her face and became a ‘listener’. “Tell me, tell me everything ‘short one’.” She did, boy did she ever.

“I’m sorry, so sorry. I’ve never have done anything like this before. I’m not some whore but, but I owe somebody money and, and he said I had to do this to start paying the money back. I left where I was for almost the same reason I now find myself having to do. I don’t know what else to do, I won’t go back.

I never dreamed to find a person that I felt so safe with. Please forgive me for what I have done. He told me to stand there and throw myself at any using that entrance. He said you all would be wealthy and I would start to make enough money to live and pay him back by selling my body. I did not know what else to do!”

‘I had heard things like this before’ I thought to myself. It seemed to be ‘lesson 101 in the streetwalker guide to the city’. Then again looking at her, the way she was dressed and the uncertainty about her made me think she was telling me the truth. It was story often repeated about the runaways who came to the city.