"I'm sure."
Judy began her story, recalling with pain the shabby little theater in Bisbee, her parents and her home, her plans for college and a life of adventure. God, she thought as she talked, it seems like such a long time ago, like another world that I can never go back to, no matter what happens from here on in. How had it come to be this way? How could she have thrown that life away, what could she have been thinking of when she ran off with Tom?
The thought of Tom brought tears to her eyes. She couldn't bring herself to go on with the story. Tim saw her hesitate, saw the tears start to form, so he reached over and covered her hand with his own. "It's OK," he said. "Tell me. Maybe it won't hurt so much if you talk about it."
Won't hurt so much? How could it not hurt, she thought. It'll never change, it'll just go on hurting forever. The only thing I can do is try to forget about it. She looked around her, saw the dingy bar, the few customers doing their best to forget everything too, knew that as long as she worked for Jay, as long as she had to spend her nights in places like this, she could never forget. Maybe he's right, she thought. Maybe I should go ahead and talk about it. She continued talking, telling him about Tom and how he had deserted her, about the abortion, about her first meeting with Jay Snyder. The warmth of Tim's hand urged her to continue, to tell everything. Never in her life had she shared her troubles, her deepest feelings, with another human being.
Tim listened with all his heart, never taking his eyes from Judy. Here, he thought, was someone just like him, with the same problems. Her background may have been different from his, her goals different, but basically they were two people caught in the same miserable situation. They were both trapped, trapped by Jay Snyder and by their own innocence, and they both wanted out more than they wanted anything else in the world. Maybe if the two of them stuck together they could find a way out. If not, then at least they could share their misery with one another. As far as Tim was concerned, it was definitely worth a try.
Judy had stopped talking. "That's it," she said, "and here I am." She felt tired, but she also felt relieved, lighter. It was as if she had been allowed to rest, to pass the burden of her life to someone else, even if just for a moment.
"Here you are," said Tim. "Here we both are."
"Both of us," she agreed. She looked at him, suddenly curious. "How did you get here?" she asked. "What's a nice boy like you doing in a place like this?"
Should I tell her? Tim thought. Maybe she'll think I'm just a cheap crook and she won't want to have anything to do with me. He decided to chance it – the least he could do was repay her honesty with his own. He told her about his boyhood in Brooklyn, how everyone and everything seemed to work against him. But be made no excuses for himself, "I made the decisions," he said, "no one else. I could have been stronger."
"Nobody's that strong. Nobody. You did what you had to do, just like I did, so don't blame yourself. It wasn't really your fault."
"I don't know," he said, shaking his head. "I really don't know."
"Of course it wasn't your fault. Did anyone ever offer to help you? Did you ever get any encouragement?"
"No, I guess not. Maybe you're right. Anyway…"
"Yeah," she said. "Anyway…"
"Here we are."
Judy smiled. It felt good to have a friend, someone she could talk to, someone who could understand. And, she thought, he's not bad looking either.
Tim was thinking exactly the same thing, although in slightly more superlative terms. Judy seemed even more beautiful to him now than she had when he first saw her – her face had relaxed, had taken on the youth and innocence that she must have left behind in Bisbee. And her body… Tim felt a little bubbling sensation in his balls, the brewing of juices. "Judy?" he said.
"Hmmmm?"
"Can we go someplace?"
She wanted very much to go someplace with this man. But tonight was one of her working nights, she was "on duty" and, if one of Jay's men came looking for her only to find her missing, it would mean another beating and rape scene later on. Still, she felt that it would be worth any beating or torture that Jay's men could give her, just to be alone with Tim, to feel the weight of his body, the touch of his fingers. "Let's do," she said. "Let's go to my place."
These words brought Tim up short. "Let's go to my place," she had said, as if he were a customer, a john. She must have said those words hundreds of times before. And now they would go to her place, the place that Jay Snyder paid for, and make love on a bed that had been used by every anonymous john on Sunset Strip. It was like saying "I love you" to someone and then having them say "step into my office, won't you?"
Judy guessed what he was thinking. "It's OK," she said gently, "we'll go to my home, not my place of business."
Tim looked at her. If that was true, he thought, if we're really going to her house, then I must be something special to her. His heart started racing. Was this possible? Did she really like him? It was almost too much to believe. Tim felt his desire for this girl, which had already reached feverish proportions, rise still more. Already his cock was straining against his pants. "Let's go."
They were too involved with one another to notice the ringing of the pay telephone at the bar. The bartender picked up the phone, spoke in a low voice for a moment, then walked over to their booth. "Judy Burton?" he said.
The bartender's voice brought Judy back to reality. She was a whore, she thought, nothing but a whore, always on call. "Yes," she said, "I'm Judy Burton."
"Phone for you."
She walked over to the bar and picked up the phone, dreading to hear the voice on the other end of the receiver, knowing that it would bring an end to her evening with Tim. "Hello," she said, caution in her voice.
"Hiya, Judy, this is Nelson."
Slackjaws Nelson was Jay Snyder's enforcer, a big, mean, ugly man with a body like steel and a mind like a peanut. He did all Snyder's dirty work, the 'convincing', as Jay called it.
"What do you want?"
"Now, baby," Slackjaws said, "is that any way to talk to your best friend, after all I done for you?" Slackjaws snickered. "I got a trick for you."
"Oh, Mr. Nelson," she said (the muscleman hated his nickname), "I've had four already tonight, I'm pretty tired." She hoped her lie would impress the enforcer, make him leave her alone at least long enough to spend some more time with Tim.
But it didn't work. "No sob stories, baby. Just douche yourself out, take an aspirin or something. This is a big one, a personal friend of Jay's. He'll meet you there in half an hour." Slackjaws hung up without giving her a chance to reply.
Judy walked back to the booth, feeling like a zombie. "Tim," she said, "I can't go. Something's come up, a change of plans."
"You mean a customer." He had known the phone call would bring had news, bring an end to the only good evening of his life. Oh, well, he thought, maybe I can see her another time. But he was disappointed, bitterly disappointed. "It's OK," he said, without conviction. "I understand."
"No, you don't understand at all. You think I'd rather be with a customer than with you? Christ, I'd give up all my customers just to be with you another five minutes, but this isn't just any customer. It's a friend of Jay's. That was Slackjaws on the phone."
Tim knew she was telling the truth, and he understood immediately. He'd heard stories about what Jay did to his girls when they crossed him, about Slackjaws and his vicious perversions. As much as he wanted Judy, he didn't want her to get hurt, didn't want her to have to submit to Slackjaws or any of the others. "OK," he said. "Maybe another time. Come on, I'll get you a cab."
"No, I'm supposed to meet him here."