This time, "Starr Bright" woke sobbing and choking out of her drugged sleep. It was 4:46 A.M. There would be no more sleep that night.
Through a cracked Venetian blind a fluorescent-pink neon sign flashed rhythmically. PARADISE MOTEL. PARADISE MOTEL. "Starr Bright" slipped stealthily from the damp rumpled pigsty of a bed shivering in the air-conditioned chill though her naked body was covered in sticky sweat. She dared not wake Cobb, had to escape from him, a dangerous man. He had hurt her, bruised her breasts, the insides of her thighs, grinding himself against her oh! oh! uh! as if he'd have liked to kill her, eyes bulging and flushed face swelling like a balloon about to burst. Drunk, and high on cocaine, he'd turned into a beast, he'd lied to her, too, promising her she could bathe herself undisturbed, shampoo her hair, like all of them he'd lied to her; he had no mercy.
/ must change my life. Help me, God. I'm run to earth.
For God had sent her, sinner though she was, a miraculous dream, a dream of lost childhood. She had had no such dream for a decade, or more. It was a sign of His terrible love.
Quickly and fumblingly "Starr Bright" dressed herself in the dark. Stepping into the black satin lace panties Cobb had ripped from her, struggling into the tight-fitting skirt, the fake-gold lame halter. And where were her shoes? and her overnight case? and her sequined purse?
One day they would ask her: why hadn't she simply fled Billy Ray Cobb and the Paradise Motel? For indeed "Starr Bright" might have done so, seeking refuge on foot somewhere in Sparks, Nevada, in the early morning hours of whatever day, whatever month and year scarcely known to her panicked mind. For indeed it would not have been the first time in the more than twenty years since she'd left her home in Shaheen, New York, that she'd fled, on foot, in such haste and desperation. It would not have been the first time she'd known herself, in a fury of self-loathing and disgust, run to earth.
But instead there was "Starr Bright" stealthily examining Cobb's clothes flung across a chair. The "Navajo" leather belt with the brass buckle. The monogrammed shirt, polyester trousers. By the dim-flickering pink glow from the window she could see just well enough to go rapidly through the trouser pockets, remove a wallet, car keys. Her hand shook but was unerring. And there, on a table close by, the near-empty bottle of Jack Daniel's, and somehow she had it in her hand and drank impulsively, regretted it at once as she began to cough and Billy Ray Cobb's snoring stopped and he woke muttering, "Eh? What? Who's that?"
There followed then a space of time distended as in a dream never to be recalled precisely by "Starr Bright" except in quick-jumping flashes, images.
She told the angry suspicious man it was just her, "Starr Bright," but already he was fully awake though groggy, swinging his legs out of bed, demanding to know, "Why're you up? It's fucking night." And she tried to hide the wallet and the car keys inside her clothes, turned away from Cobb, saying she needed to use the bathroom. And by now Cobb was on his feet. Swaying but belligerent. He was no more than an inch or so taller than "Starr Bright" at five feet eight but he outweighed her by a hundred pounds. "Yeah?" he said, advancing upon her, "-the bathroom's in this direction, babe. Or were you gonna take a leak on the floor?" And, stammering, "Starr Bright" said she needed to take a hot shower, needed to wash her hair, she couldn't sleep smelly and dirty as she was and Cobb said, "Hot water in the middle of the fucking night? What's going on here?" and she was about to run for the door but he'd seen the wallet and keys in her hand, and grabbed her, began slapping her, "What the fuck, bitch? Caught you, eh?" shaking and slapping and getting a hammerlock on her head dragging her in the direction of the bathroom, "You want a shower, eh?-your dirty hair washed? How's about in the toilet bowl? Think you can put something over on me! Fuck with me! Billy Ray Cobb!"
"Starr Bright" fell to her knees. Cobb cursed her and released the hammerlock but slapped and punched her, furious, shamed, "Telling me all that shit last night, and I fell for it. What a sucker! Shoulda known you whores are all alike, don't deserve to live! Going into my wallet! Can't wait till morning to be paid?" and with a grunt picked up his wallet where it lay on the floor, extracted a handful of bills tossing them into the air and pushing "Starr Bright" down on hands and knees amid them where they fell, telling her to crawl for it, pick them up, pick them up with her cunt, and when "Starr Bright" did not he straddled her, his heavy sweating naked body on her back, "Hey, you like it, babe! You know you like it! 'Starr Bright'!-phony name! phony bitch! all of you phony bitches!-whores! Don't deserve to live, you contaminate the world for decent women." He took up his belt with the brass buckle and began to strike her buttocks, laughing, "Giddyup horsey! Giddyup horsey! You like it, eh?-cunt? Sure you do!" and when "Starr Bright" collapsed onto the floor Cobb ground himself into her, penis like a steel rod, until at last he cried out, hooting, and laughing, and collapsed onto her, and lay unmoving, heavily panting, for a beat. When he rose from her, "Starr Bright" lay limp.
"Now get out of here, you. Fast. Before I get serious and do something can't be undone." Prodding her with his foot, seizing her by the hair. "Don't play no more games with me, cunt. This room I'm paying for, get out."
Cobb forced "Starr Bright" to crawl on hands and knees through the scattered bills, in the direction of the door, fingers gripping the back of her neck. How triumphant he was, how an angry satisfied joy irradiated from his body, waves of animal-heat! Saying she was real lucky he hadn't broken her jaw, he'd been known to break the jaws of whores, filthy things not deserving to live among decent women, and when "Starr Bright" fumbled for her sequined purse which lay on the floor he said, "Yeah! Take your trash with you! Stinking up the place!" He marched to the door, unbolted and opened it as "Starr Bright" rose shakily to her feet, clothes torn, nose bloodied, Cobb sighted her cork-heeled shoes on the floor and snatched them up and tossed them out the door, "Trash! Stinking! Get out!" and when "Starr Bright" did not move quickly enough to suit him he gripped her again by the nape of the neck set to fling her through the doorway after her shoes but in that instant suddenly no longer dazed and fumbling as if God gave me the strength: guided my hand "Starr Bright" had the knife out of her purse, held it tightly and drew its razor-sharp blade across Cobb's throat and he cried out in astonishment and horror beginning to bleed at once profusely, clutching at his throat as if to stem the flow, and "Starr Bright" leapt free of him, panting, as he sank to his knees, "What-? My God- Help me-"