Chapter 12

"Tamarack," Carolyn enunciated as clearly as possible for the ticket agent. "Tamarack, West Virginia. It's just a little place, just below Charlestown about twenty or thirty miles."

The ticket agent ran a stubby finger down the list of stops on his bus schedule, flipped over the page and ran down a second line of numbers.

"Oh yeah, here it is. Tamarack, West Virginia. Well, if you take the next bus - that's at 7:30 tomorrow morning - you will get in there about 4:30 tomorrow afternoon. It's not a regular stop, you understand, but the driver will let you off if you ask him to."

"Isn't there a bus tonight?" Carolyn asked hopefully. "I sure don't want to sit in the depot all night."

"Sorry, lady," the fat little man answered, "only one bus going that way a'tall. It's only a secondary highway, you know, t'ain't no highspeed toll road. It's 7:30 tomorrow or nothing. Less you want to take the plane into Charlestown and then a bus out of there maybe?"

"No," she frowned, "No, I'll wait for the bus. Thank you anyway." "Yes ma'am."

Carolyn turned abruptly and bumped into the man standing behind her, apologized without looking up, and went into the Ladies Lounge.

A few minutes later, she pushed her way through the squeaking door of the women's room and walked slowly into the lobby of the half-deserted bus depot once more. Well, it was going to be a long night. She had better find a restaurant before she settled in for the night. It had been hours since she had eaten - not since early morning before Jason and the dogs and the opportunity for escape - and she was feeling a little queasy in her stomach. She wondered fleetingly if it was from lack of food or the let down after her flight to freedom. Whatever it was, she could sure do without it. She walked over to the cigarette counter. A tall attractive man in a business suit walked up beside her. Together they waited for the clerk to finish the word on his crossword puzzle and notice them.

"Oh," he finally realized he was not alone, "Can I help you, mister?"

"The lady was first." He smiled at Carolyn and touched his hat. She smiled back.

"I only wanted to ask if there was a restaurant near here that might be open this time of night?" She was looking at the counter man but her mind was on the handsome stranger. How pleasant to meet a man without a dog by his side, she thought bitterly, a man who isn't interested in your sex.

"I was going to ask the same thing," the handsome man laughed. He turned to the clerk and smiled. "Maybe you should be selling sandwiches instead of cigarettes."

"Matter o'fact I do," came his monotoned reply and he reached beneath the counter and came up with a pair of mangled sandwiches. "Lessee, I got one boloney with mustard and one salami 'n cheese. I make 'em up myself at home."

The tall man looked at the sandwiches then at Carolyn and smiled as if they shared a big secret. He put his hand on her elbow and turned her away from the counter.

"I do thank you," he chuckled, "but what we really had in mind was something more along the order of a nice medium rare steak. Isn't that right?"

Carolyn was caught up in his ready smile and nodded in agreement. "Is there some place... ???"

"Well now," the clerk sat back down on his stool and picked up the crossword puzzle, "There's always the Pickwick Hotel down the street if ya don't mind paying fancy hotel prices??"

"Thank you." He turned to Carolyn and guided her toward the door, his firm hand still on her arm. "You will let me take you to dinner, won't you? Somehow I can't envision a lovely girl like you eating salami and cheese."

"Well, I really don't know... I'm just waiting for my bus change," Carolyn was reluctant. After all, he was an absolute stranger.

"... and we haven't been properly introduced?" He smiled. "Something like that," she smiled back.

"It's really quite proper, you know," he said frowning with exaggerated concern. "We've run into each other before." "We have?"

"Of course! Don't you remember... you stepped on my toe at the ticket counter, Miss Tamarack West Virginia."

"Oh, that was you. I'm sorry. I just didn't notice who it was." Carolyn laughed an apology. "I really am sorry, you know."

"If you're really sorry, then you must let me take you to dinner to prove it."

"I'm afraid I don't look much like going out to dinner anywhere," she apologized. "You see, I left... where I was... in rather a hurry and I didn't take time to pack a bag or anything. This is all I have and, well, I don't look very presentable." "You look charming!" He smiled down at her.

Yes, he had noticed that she had no luggage. That was why he had followed her to the counter, why he had invited her to dinner. This was a central transfer point for all major bus lines out of New York City. There were many pretty girls who arrived on the New York bus without luggage, down on their luck and usually pretty hungry. Pretty girls who left their small home towns with stars in their eyes and their brags of success still ringing in their ears... Pretty girls who came home eventually when all else failed, tired, hungry and broke. But still pretty...

It was the desperate pretty girls who were easy prey for Paul J. Price. "Just long enough to get enough money to go home in style." That's how he always put it to them. "At a hundred dollars a night, honey, you can go home like a Queen!"

Carolyn Vance didn't care about going home a queen. She didn't even care about going home. Tamarack, West Virginia, wasn't her home. It was only a small town with a pretty name on a map. She had done a childish thing - closed her eyes and pointed blindly at a spot on a map. And the spot had been Tamarack. She had only wanted to go somewhere, anywhere, where no one knew her. She wanted to start over fresh and clean and smelling of Chantilly instead of dog.

But most of all, Carolyn wanted to learn to make love to a man... to many men, perhaps... not to dogs.

Mr. Paul J Price, for all his continental manner and experience, was surprised when the pretty girl he had met but moments before answered his proposition to become a high-priced prostitute with a simple chaste "all right."

But then Mr. Price didn't know about dogs...

Or why it was so vitally important for her to know about men...

"You're very generous," Carolyn smiled at the balding conventioneer, and tucked the folded bills into her bra.

"Think nothing of it, honey, when Henry Pippen's in town, the sky's the limit! How about a little nightcap, baby?" His pudgy fingers poked at her ribs and Carolyn winced. "We been having us a time for over an hour. I'll just bet you could use a little 100 proof courage. Bet you don't run into many men my age who can keep a pretty young girl like you busy for an hour, huh? Huh?"

Carolyn smiled and lowered her eyes naively. No, she thought and fought to keep from yawning openly, not many, not more than fifteen or twenty a week... and most of them make love just as poorly as you. She opened the door and leaned against the sill.

"Not tonight, Mr. Pippen." She declined as gracefully as possible. "I'm awfully tired. Perhaps next time you're in town, hmmmm?"

"Sure thing, little girl." He reached into his inside coat pocket and handed her a business card. "You ever get down my way now, you give me a call, ya hear?"

Carolyn nodded and smiled... and closed the door on him. She leaned her back against the door and sighed, slowly tearing the business card into small even pieces. They fell to the floor in a flutter of white cardboard snow.

Another dismal failure. Her guts felt like they were spread out in a frying pan. There was the same old burning sensation in her loins, it never seemed to go away any more. She leaned her head back against the door and closed her eyes. How many had it been? Fifty, seventy-five? A hundred? At least. A hundred male bodies had paid their money and poked at her with a hundred eager cocks. A penis paradise for an insatiable female! Only it wasn't paradise. It was hell! 'Cause it never worked for her. A hundred strangers pumped her full of semen and were satisfied... and still she ached. She had nearly three thousand dollars in the bank now. It represented three months on her back and it was enough to put her back on her feet again. She would tell him right now.