BEGINNINGS
(February 21, 2019)
Twilight. February’s air got colder by the hour as the sunlight faded from the day’s sky.
Ellie found herself walking along a nearly deserted highway. She had no idea where she was going next. She hardly knew where she was to begin with. Somewhere in Alabama. She gathered that much reading the signs.
To Ellie it felt as if she had traveled half the globe, even if she’d only really passed through two states since running away from home. Cleveland, Ohio.
She didn’t want to think about Cleveland anymore.
Her body was here, now. Walking in the twilight, by herself, hoping to hitch a ride before the night fell on her. Was Alabama safe for a girl like her? A girl of color? Her mother was white. Would that matter? It was 2019, Ellie told herself; she was safe enough. In no more danger, anyway, than in any random car she had gotten into so far.
An engine roared behind her and Ellie instinctively turned around. The move of her hand was a practiced one at this point, with her thumb pointing slightly upward to signal she wanted a ride. She watched as the old Chevy pickup passed her by and already knew it wouldn’t stop for her. “Fuck,” she whispered to herself.
Ellie continued along her path to nowhere in particular. She didn’t like the highway. There was too much risk of running into a cop. They would check her ID. Would see she was fourteen. Would send her back home. The one place she didn’t want to be. Cleveland.
She didn’t want to think about Cleveland anymore.
The twilight made room for a darker shade as Ellie walked along the highway. She had given up on getting a ride for the night when from behind her she heard another car approaching. She turned around and was blinded by the deadly stare of two headlights pointing in her direction. Her hand went up, her thumb stuck out, and for a moment she wasn’t sure what would happen.
The car passed her by, then slowed down and stopped a short distance away from her.
Ellie’s heart jumped a beat and she ran toward the car. No longer blinded by the headlights, she could see what she was dealing with more clearly. A silver Jaguar logo. Four tailpipes. “XK,” it said in silver letters on the back of the pitch-black car.
Ellie opened the passenger door and jumped into the car. “Sweet ride you got!” She said it on impulse, before even looking to see who she’d gotten into the car with.
An older man’s voice replied, “Thank you. I am very fond of it.”
Ellie closed the door and fastened her seat belt. Only then did she take the time to observe the person sitting next to her. She found an aged man with a gentle smile on his face. His eyes were soft and kind and as experienced as the few white strands of hair he had remaining.
He reached out his hand as he said, “I am Arthur.”
“Ellie,” she said as she shook his hand.
“I am only going so far as Brettville,” Arthur told her.
“How far is Brettville?”
The old man started driving, diligently checking his mirrors before pulling back onto the road. “Not far, I’m afraid.”
When he picked up pace on the highway, a matter of seconds in this beast of a car, he asked, “Where are you heading?”
Ellie lifted her shoulders. “Nowhere in particular, I guess.”
The old man reflected on her words in silence. When he had mulled over the situation sufficiently he asked, “Been on the road long? You don’t look like you have a lot of money on you.”
Ellie studied the man’s face as she considered how truthful she wanted to be with him. He seemed peaceful to her; in a less cynical world he might have even been kind.
“A couple of months,” she answered. “Been hitching rides a lot. Sometimes they buy me food.”
“That’s very nice of those people.”
Very nice.
Ellie said, “Sure is.” She neglected to mention the services she provided to keep the drivers on her good side.
Again there was a long and painful pause. It seemed to Ellie as if the man’s age had intruded upon his mental faculties. It was clear that he was thinking, pondering, and arriving at conclusions with the speed of a snail.
She couldn’t handle the long silence. “You live in Alabama?”
The man nodded. “Going home right now, in fact.” He added, “Brettville.”
Again a long silence and Ellie took to looking out the window where she watched a dark and meaningless environment flash by. How much longer was she going to do this before she reached a safe haven, even if just a temporary one?
It was at these moments, when there was nothing to focus on, no voice to listen to, that she felt the fear creeping up on her. Where was she heading? Where would she wind up?
“If you wish,” the old man spoke up from next to her, “you may spend the night at my home.”
Ellie looked at him as she tried to decide what she should do. Judging by the car and his clothes he was a wealthy man, so his place would be nice. Of course… she would have to pay. But he seemed clean, or so Ellie thought, as he smelled very nice.
She decided to accept his offer. “That would be great!” she said.
A night in good comfort and in relative safety. Ellie decided she was willing to pay for that. She had done worse for less.
(February 22, 2019)
Ellie spent her morning at the kitchen table of a mansion so large that it was impossible not to get lost in it. She sat in clothes that weren’t hers, looking at people she didn’t know.
Their studious eyes on her body scared her. Ellie saw the demands that lingered on the forefront of their minds and she knew that, if it came to it, she wouldn’t be able to say no.
There was the old man—Arthur Toaves was his name—who sat with his hands folded neatly over one another. His eyes were gray and resided deeply inside his aging skull. The kindness Ellie had seen in them the day before had made room for something more sinister.
Next to him sat a middle-aged woman with long, dark brown hair. Her strict stare was fixed on Ellie and refused to waver even in the slightest. Ellie knew the woman’s name was Mary and her shoulders, just like her face, hinted at a great strength.
Arthur said, “I’m glad the clothes fit you.”
Mary added, “We were lucky we still had them lying around.”
“Has the rest gone to charity already, Mary?” the old man asked.
“People are picking it up in the afternoon.”
Ellie saw that Mary’s words pleased him. His thin lips curled into a fragile smile that she thought would be impossible not to shatter.
Arthur explained to Ellie, “We collect old clothes from the town. When we have a whole big pile of them we send them off to charity. They’re redistributed to the less fortunate.”
Ellie nodded without saying a word. She had no idea where she had wound up and the previous night had done little to clarify her situation.
It had already been dark when they arrived at the mansion and Arthur parked his Jaguar in a garage next to a bunch of other beautiful cars.
Together they had walked into the mansion where the old man showed her to a large bedroom on the second floor. It came with its own private bathroom and he had told her to take a hot shower.
Understanding what was expected from her, Ellie had obeyed. Some men didn’t care, but most liked her to be clean. She had showered in many sleazy motel rooms, placating the men that she hoped would be generous enough to buy her some dinner after the deed had been done.
After showering Ellie had walked back into the bedroom, expecting to find the old man there, waiting eagerly for her naked body. But he hadn’t been there. Instead, she had found a maid putting out a nightgown for her to wear.