Notice

Heather Lewis NOTICE

At a crossing of the line,
Everything you need is mine.

—Nico and Philippe Quilichini “Sãeta”

One

For the longest time I didn’t call it turning tricks. When I’d leave work, cross the street to the train station and, if some guy – man, I guess really you’d call him – had come off the train, was on his way home, I’d take his money.

We’d do it in his car. I’d work maybe twenty minutes. Get maybe twenty dollars, which was good compared to what I made at my job across the street. Besides, it’s hard to get more in a car. At least I told myself this. Though I guess how much depends on what you’ll do for it.

I wouldn’t do a whole lot; acted pretty grumpy about doing anything. But then they liked that, one or two of them especially did.

This wasn’t something I was looking to do, though by how easy it happened you would’ve said it was. People have. Still, for me it happened by accident. And while it’s true I needed the money that’s not all I needed from it. I don’t care what anybody says. I understand the reason for telling people that, people outside it. But the thing is, I could never really see anyone as outside it. What the extra need is, the thing besides money? I’ve never pinned it down. I know it’s there, though.

* * *

So anyway, every day after work I’d wait. Well, maybe not every day, not at first. Gradually it got to be that regular. And then I got regulars. By then it becomes a two-way thing with them depending on you and you depending on them. Once it’s there, who’s to blame doesn’t matter because you’re each getting what you came for.

Maybe it started because I didn’t want to go home. Home right then meant my parents’ house. It hadn’t meant that in a long time and to have it mean that again, so late in the game, relatively, wasn’t easy or even simple.

I had, after all, picked the Juvey place over them, but that had turned out nasty. Worse than I’d thought and I’d thought bad. Of course, I’d had a shaky start there and after that was marked. This didn’t feel new to me, but the way they went about reminding you daily and in such obvious ways, the way they made you a dog, put a leash on you – and I mean this literally – I had to get out no matter where I’d end up.

I’d ended up at home with a capital H, and so every day after work I avoided going there. This despite the fact my parents weren’t living there and wouldn’t be for months. It didn’t matter. Everything in the place belonged to them. Nothing much belonged to me. They’d tossed my stuff when I got locked up. Anyway, as long as I stayed there it seemed I belonged to them too and I needed not to be reminded of this.

For quite a while I’d gone to a bar after work. One across the street, catercorner to the station. Soon enough that turned into a thing with one of the bartenders. This was based not even on sex but on cocaine and, that not being my favorite drug, I tired of it fast.

Maybe somehow I figured if I hung around outside the bar instead of inside I’d get paid instead of paying, or trading. Trading, anyone will tell you, ranks as low as you can go and already I’d had years of it. Been born to it really. And so I felt the need to move up. Or I needed to make things plainer.

So I did move up, which meant out, or never going in—the bar, that is. I don’t know when the first time was, though I do remember it. And like always, like everyone else, I was thinking, well, maybe just this once.

The reason it’s never just once is the same reason money’s only a part of it. Most anyone can take or leave that, though they don’t think they can. The cover story of all time, that’s what money is. The excuse of excuses no one will question because they so much need to use it themselves.

The first one, I didn’t want him to know he was first. Even before it was actual work I didn’t want anyone to think they were first.

Later, of course, it becomes good business to convince them all it’s your first time, first time for money anyway. Not too many would believe beyond that. And when even that becomes impossible to sell, then you try to convince them they’re different, or that what they’re asking for is.

Always you try and convince them you like it, or them, whichever seems more important. Unless they could care less about that stuff. Those are the easiest in a way, well, depending.

But that actual first time it’s not so likely you’d want him knowing, unless there’s someone else in it to profit. And I’d promised myself I’d never have someone like that.

So that first time happened by standing around. By walking past the bar instead of going in. And then past my car and not driving home. It was awkward, but more for the guy off the train. Wasn’t his first time, that I could tell, but probably his first time this close to home.

Once I saw his hands, the way they fiddled with his wallet, I didn’t so much relax as switch. We were still talking about him buying me a drink. He was asking how much that would cost and worrying about the cash he had on him.

I don’t know, maybe he thought we were talking about a motel. I wasn’t. Knew while I’d cost more, I’d pay more, so I wasn’t going any farther than this parking lot. I just wanted him to show me his car.

Finally he said, “Where do we go?”

So I said, “You got a car?” And that was that. That part was settled.

The car was nice, nice for this. One of those ones with a front seat that moves back all in one piece. Not so good for driving, but good for sitting in.

Like I said, he didn’t know how to act, so he started walking me around to the passenger side. He stopped somewhere near the hood ornament.

Anyway, he let me walk the rest of the way by myself and I got to my door before he got to his. Had to wait for him to pop the locks.

I was wearing kind of a short skirt. He had on a suit, a lightweight one sort of olive-colored. It was almost too late for dressing this way, too far into fall. Far enough that I was wearing stockings, black ones, the kind with a seam up the back.

I guess what I’m saying is we both looked the part and that made things easier. Easier for me at least. And he was young and not bad looking, and this helped me too.

I’d gotten my money already, outside the car. Not much left to do now but do him, so I put my hand in his lap. Got him the rest of the way there, then unzipped him. Touched him some before I put my head down.

It was fine really, was no big deal. He took maybe four minutes, and when he came I swallowed because neither of us had planned any place else to put it. Besides he’d been decent so it seemed wrong to leave him a mess to clean up.

I didn’t wait around, mostly because I could tell he didn’t want me to. I just got out of his car and started walking to mine, then kept walking past it again.

Wound up going into the bar after all.

I spent some of the twenty drinking because the bartender I knew came in late. Once he got there I stayed as long as he did. Sat at the bar until they closed. Then sat at a table until he finished locking up, counting the drawer, drying some glasses.

When he got done, he came over. He pushed aside the table I sat behind. Got down on his knees so he was in between mine. Afterwards we did maybe half a gram, though it was more like speed cut with coke than vice-versa and this wasn’t the first time. Still, I wasn’t ready to start anything over it. Not yet. Just noticed and knew I’d have to say something sometime soon.

My end of this deal had been short to begin with and was now getting shorter. Like I said, I’d seen I was paying too much for too little. I guess getting paid out there in the parking lot made me really feel it. Before it’d been more of an idea.