The lady or girl moved about the abandoned building dressed in a fashion to hopefully go un-noticed, just a sexless shadow on the wall to be ignored. She didn’t want to standout, didn’t want her gender or her face notable to distant observers, knowing up close that both would be noticed no matter what she did. For reasons she couldn’t explain to herself let alone anyone else she had to find the man who once helped her mother. That was decades in the past and she’d only recently learned a shocking truth. He might have saved her mother’s life when he offered her a ride the day two strangers met. That part wasn’t clear.
What the girl knew for sure was that her Mother had been kicked out of a car, stranded, perhaps running from away from an unspecified danger. Her Mother kept that part secret when she confessed the rest and the girl wondered if her Mom had committed a crime or had a fight with her boyfriend. All she said was she had gotten to a phone booth in front of a closed store on a road in the middle of no-where. When a car pulled up and a man had gotten out going to the building.
“It’s closed,” her Mother had called out. The two talked a moment and the Man asked if she needed a ride. Her Mother glanced at the payphone she’d been about to use. Did it work? Would her call get through? Would someone come to get her? How many hours before they arrived? Too many and too many question and she didn’t really want to explain why she was where she was. Hell nearly forty years later she hadn’t done that to her own daughter, even after admitting duping the Man who’d helped her.
“Alright, I need to get to Hollywood, are you going that way?”
“Yes, it’s not far from where I live. I’m headed home.” The man answered and her mom had gotten into the strangers car. It pulled away, onto the road and the occupants began talking, getting to know each other a little then talking about other things. Her Mother couldn’t recall what. What was or at least seemed in memory as hours later her Mother told the Man where to park beside the 101 freeway near Santa Monica Blvd. Her Mom had pointed out a building saying I live over there and then began be dishonest with the man, whose character she latter said liked. Besides he had helped her, never asked for gas money or anything else.
Had her Mom been unashamed enough to say, “I want to thank you for helping me, want a Fuck me.”
Her Mom’s reasons were not to thank the man. Who knew what he would have done if Mom had told him the truth. Maybe felt like he should drive her back where he found and leave like trash beside the road, alive but stranded again. Perhaps he would have agreed to fuck her Mom anyways. The decision was one he wasn’t allowed to make. Did that mean her Mom raped him using false pretense to get something she decided to steal from her savior?
“I’d have been angry as hell! An God only knows why he fell for it.” The daughter muttered as she remembered her Moms words.
“Dear I didn’t really lie. I told him I was using a type of birth control. Told him I was allergic to the material condoms were made out of and he couldn’t use one. He hesitated and probably recalled it been in the news that some people were allergic to them. Now days they use a different material to make them. Anyways he agreed.
“He was young and I was attractive enough that he may have been thinking with his smaller head, the horny one not the thinking one. There in his car we lowered both seats into the reclining position. The head rest was level with the back seat I think. It was like being in a very narrow bed. Both of us pushed our pants and underwear down. Where we were parked where no traffic would pass by close enough to see us and I think there was no side on that side. The freeway was down a lot lower so on one on it could see in.