The next night Claire sat on the bed with a regular customer. His head lay in her lap. He was an older man with balding, white hair and a bright red scalp. He was a prosperous business man and he treated Claire like a priest. He would come see her once a week, stay for around two hours and cry like a child into her lap confessing his sins. He was an evil man and he did evil things to people but he never tried to be sexual with Claire, and he always gave her $1000 tips. Once when he was drunk he groped her before collapsing into tears. That was as far as he ever went with her. That night was no exception.
Claire was wearing a short, red Chinese Cheongsam dress and Mr. Miles Talben was sobbing into her lap, pressing the top of his head into her stomach and telling her his latest woes. He took advantage of a very young girl. He fired a man with four children, and called out a hit on another man who slept with his wife. His wife, he cut off her credit cards and threatened to have her killed as well if she didn’t shape up. Claire sat petting his balding head, saying things like: “You did what you had to do; I’m sure they’ll be all right; it wasn’t your fault,” anything to make him feel good enough to stop crying and try to be a man about life.
Downstairs in the lobby Hollis sat on one of the benches, watching a steady trickle of men come and go. Most of the men avoided eye contact with him. He had gotten there ten minutes after Miles Talben and that night Mr. Talben had decided to stay with Claire for over two and a half hours.
When Hollis arrived he saw there was an old Chinese woman behind the counter instead of the Pig. She had streaks of gray invading her dark black hair, tied back into a tight bun. Her round frameless glasses made her look even older. Her lips were painted bright red which matched the color of her dress. He walked to the counter and glanced at the lit up menu on the wall. Number thirty-four wasn’t lit.
“Is Number thirty-four in tonight?” He asked the old lady.
“Oh yeah yeah, but she busy now. You like different girl?”
“No, I’ll uh, wait,” Hollis said.
‘You wait? No. It might be while. I set you up with ‘nother nice girl,” The old lady prodded.
“No, it’s okay, I’ll wait,” he insisted, turned and sat on the bench. For over two hours he glanced at the men coming in and studied the men coming out, in case he could tell who had been with Claire that evening. The old lady watched him wait and thought that the girl certainly had dedicated fans. He lit up a cigarette and the old lady started to shout at him.
“No-no, you can’t do that here! Go outside! I call you if she ready.”
Hollis slowly stood up and walked outside, leaning against the wall next to the door, watching any man who exited and remembering the morning before at work talking to a delivery man named Paulie.
“Oh yeah, I know her real well,” Paulie had said when Hollis showed him Claire’s picture.
I know her real well.
Of all the people who he’d asked about her, this was the man who knew her real well.
Paulie was a short man maybe fifteen years older than Hollis. He had patches of hair growing all over his face and scalp and neck and peeking out from under his shirt. His gut was the largest part of his body. He delivered Christmas trees. And he knew her real well.
When Hollis didn’t say anything back, Paulie continued. “That’s Evie. From the Pussy Catz. She’s got a tight little puss.” Paulie paused. “Is this picture old? The girl I know is skinnier. And her hair’s shorter.” He squinted. “That’s definitely her, though.”
Hollis regained his breath. “What is the Pussy Catz?”
“It’s this fuck barn out in South Town Industry Area. On, uh,” Paulie thought about it. “At Calico and 48th street. You can’t miss it. It’s open all night. And the best part is you pick the girls you want from pictures of their pussies on the wall – nothing else. It’s hot. And the girls are hot.”
“I see,” Hollis said, putting the picture away.
“Oh,” Paulie continued, getting excited. “But if you really want kinky there’s this place a little closer in town that –“
“Paulie,” Hollies laughed, interrupting him. “How many of these places do you know?”
Paulie stopped and counted mentally. “Maybe a dozen,” he stated.
Paulie, the biggest scumbag oozing with sleaze. The man with the worst smelling farts and nastiest hacks and spit. This fucking slime knows her real well.
After Hollis had spoken to Paulie he felt nauseous and needed to sit down.
He felt the same way now, watching every man trail in and out of the front doors. He finished his cigarette and returned to his seat on the bench. As every ten minutes passed the feeling intensified.
While upstairs and old man was drying his eyes with his personal embroidered handkerchief and, as was his custom, hugging and thanking Claire, telling her she’s beautiful and looks like his daughter and how much he misses her. He left walking light in his footsteps. Confessing his problems to a prostitute made him feel like a whole new man. And it left Claire feeling like she was just a sand sculpture that the wind was blowing away. She sat motionless on the bed, as if Mr. Miles Talben was still weeping into her lap. She jumped when the phone rang. Slowly she picked up the receiver from its cradle screwed into the wall.
“Yes,” she answered monotonously.
“There is man waiting for you,” the Asian woman said, glancing at Hollis sitting on the bench sideways through the glass.
“Fuck,” she sighed. “Already?”
“He been waiting for over two hour,” the lady told her.
It’s him, her body pulsed.
“Is he a young man? Tall, skinny, black glasses, with a beard and a deep voice?”
“Oh yeah, real deep. Not type of man who come to places like this.”
Claire paused. “Send him up,” she said. “Give him the special rate.”
“Oh? Special rate? He good friend?”
Claire paused again. “Yes,” she answered.
“Oh yeah, I give him special rate.”
“Wait ten minutes before you send him up?”
“Okay,” the Asian woman said before hanging up.
Claire returned the phone to its cradle. She jumped off the bed and tore off the sheet, replacing it with a fresh one from the closet and rearranging the pillows. Then she hurried down the hall to the lounge.
Two girls were sitting at a table cutting up some coke. They offered some to Claire when she came in.
“Evie, girl, you want a hit?” A tall skinny black girl with curly hair and blue eye shadow asked.
Claire didn’t really want her nose itching around Hollis so she declined, although the rush might have helped her be less nervous. The girls shrugged and Claire filled two glasses with bourbon; one with ice, one without. She gulped some down and refilled the glass before returning to her room. She set the drinks down next to the lamp, threw the dildos in the drawer and put the condom bowl in the closet. Knowing her time was almost up she went into the hallway and checked out her reflection in the mirror to see if she looked okay. She smoothed her hair a little and her make-up wasn’t smudged. She wore a lot more make-up these days. It was easy to play a character in make-up. She went into the room, shut the door and sat in a chair, waiting.
Hollis sat downstairs watching over two hours pass on the clock above the Chinese lady. He thought about leaving again, knowing that if he left he would not come back. He would leave town immediately, giving up because he had found her and there was no where to search left. But he couldn’t leave. Instead, he sat and waited.
He was staring blankly at the wall in front of him when he heard steps coming down the stairs. He didn’t move his head but watched the movement from the corner of his eye. He saw an old man dressed in an expensive coat and hat walking slowly. He went to the counter, returned his key and waved his hat at the Chinese madam. Then he strolled down the hallway cheerfully with rosy pink cheeks. Hollis did not remember seeing him come in at all. He knew he was the man who had been with Claire.
Miles Talben didn’t notice or pay any attention to Hollis sitting on the bench. Hollis’ gaze followed him as he walked to the exit. He wanted to follow the old man outside and catalogue what he drove, or even assault him if he felt brave and angry enough, but out of the corner of his eye he noticed the Chinese woman was on the phone. He could hear her mumble but couldn’t make out any words. When she hung up she was looking at him. He kept still.
Just then the front door opened. Hollis turned his head, expecting to see the old man again for whatever reason. Two boys walked in, giggling. They must have both just turned the legal age. They were both wearing sweatshirts that had fraternity Greek letters ΣΩΒ printed on them and baseball caps on their heads. They walked past Hollis and when they saw the pussy wall one of them exclaimed “No way! Awesome!” while the other one said “I told you, man.” Within minutes they had both made their decisions and were upstairs and then the Asian woman called out to him.
“You there!” Once she had Hollis’ attention she beckoned him. “Come here!” When he approached the counter she said, “She ready now. You get special rate. $150 for as long as you want.”
Hollis blinked, shrugged and put down $150. He was given the same key from last night, the same one that old man probably had.
“You know the way?” She asked.
“Yes,” Hollis replied. “Thank you.” He walked away and disappeared up the steps. Once he was gone the Asian woman noticed for the first time how strong his presence was now that he had left. She needed to sit and flopped into her chair.
Once Hollis reached the third floor he started down the hallway. “Hey baby, you’re fine,” a voice called out to him from a door. It was the tall skinny black girl with curly hair and blue eye shadow. “Next time you come, ask for me, honey. My name’s Porsche, and you don’t need a license to ride me!” She said, throwing him a sexy pose.
“Okay,” Hollis said uneasily, then turned to walk to door 319. The black girl watched him use the key and disappear into the room.
At first Hollis didn’t see her in the room; he thought she wasn’t there. Then he turned from the empty bed and saw her sitting behind him in the corner. He was relieved to see her more solidly dressed. He wanted to pull her towards him and hold her, feel her arms clasp around his torso, but the thought of all the scumbags who had held her kept him still and at a distance.
“Hi,” she greeted. She was curled up in the wooden chair. She stood up and said, “I got you a drink.” She handed him a glass of bourbon, straight up, no ice. “I thought we’d need a drink. At least, I do. If you don’t want it I can drink it.”
“I’ll drink it,” Hollis said, taking a sip. “Do you give all your customers drinks?” He asked accusingly.
“No,” Claire said, turning her back to him and drinking her own glass.
Hollis inhaled and drank from his glass. He had waited so long for this moment and he was only starting it off in a mess. He set his glass down, took his top three of 5 layers off and tossed them onto the bed. Claire sat back down in her wooden chair and he pulled the other out and sat facing her. They had the entire night along in the small 8’x8’ room now. He didn’t want to spend it hating her. For the first time he smiled. It was a genuine smile and she smiled in return.
“You look different, but you look the same,” he said to her.
“You too,” she replied.
They sat looking at each other, thinking about the past three years, each with questions swimming around their minds. Hollis went through the entire day after not sleeping much at night thinking about her constantly while he carried Christmas trees for customers and setting up new ones in the lot. Claire drank herself to sleep the past night and woke up at her home confused and at a loss for herself. In the back of her mind she wanted her old life back.
“So, what have you been doing all this time?” Claire asked, breaking the silence.
Hollis put down his almost empty glass, blew out the fumes from his mouth and said, “Driving around, doing odd jobs for money, looking for you.”
A pause.
“Why were you looking for me?” She asked.
Another pause.
“Because without you I have no point or goal in life and I’m just a fucking ghost wandering this Earth.” He answered. Another pause. “What were you doing?”
The longest pause yet.
“Killing myself a little each day.”
Hollis wanted to ask why, but he knew that answer wouldn’t be given up so easily. Deep down inside him, he already knew the answer.
“Do you have a job in town?” Claire asked.
“Yeah, at this Christmas tree lot.” Claire chuckled, and he grinned. That explained the pine tree smell radiating from Hollis. They used to make fun of travelling guys working at Christmas tree lots for money to get gas into their cars. He continued. “Though, it doesn’t pay as well as your job. It takes me over two weeks plus tips to make enough cash to get into this joint.”
It was supposed to be in a joking manner but it was followed by silence.
Claire was watching him look at her and gulp the rest of his bourbon down. Her glass was already empty. She wanted to reach out and touch him, maybe even embrace him, but she knew he didn’t want that. He wouldn’t want to touch her after he knew where she was. She got up and pulled a pack of smokes out of her closet and lit one up. She offered one to Hollis which he accepted and held out the flame for him. She stood behind him smoking for a minute then sat back in her chair, ashing into her empty glass.
Finally Hollis said, “What were you doing with that old man?” He couldn’t help himself. It was burning a hole in his brain.
“Old man?”
“The one that was here before me.”
“I wasn’t doing anything with him.”
“Why don’t I believe you?” Hollis scoffed.
“Because you have some weird issue with the truth?” Claire offered smoothly.
“Bullshit. Old, fancy dressed-up men don’t come here for over two hours to do nothing.”
Claire laughed. “You think a man that old can even get it up?” Hollis only kept looking at her. “You know what he comes here to do? He comes here and pays me like he would a therapist. That man is so fucked in the head and he sits here ranting about the crappy shit he does in his life for two hours at a time and cries. He cries like a baby. Then he pays me a lot of money and leaves. That’s what that old man comes here to do. And he does it once, maybe twice a week. Has been for months.”
Hollis stared into her eyes trying to decide whether to believe her or not.
“Jealousy doesn’t look good on you,” Claire said, breaking the silence.
Hollis blinked, snapped out of his trance, exhaled and changed the subject after a puase. “Is there a toilet here?” He asked.
Claire stood up. “Yeah, I’ll show you where it is. Do you want another drink?”
“Sure,” he said, following her out the door and to the end of the hallway. He went into the tiny bathroom the size of a closet she showed him to and relieved himself. There was no mirror in there so he couldn’t see the reflection of himself pale and shaking. He opened the door and stepped into the hallway. Claire was waiting for him holding two fresh glasses of bourbon. He followed her back to the room where they sat down and lit new cigarettes. Their bodies were starting to feel warm from the liquor.
After they smoked together in silence Hollis finished his cigarette and dropped his butt into the empty glass, asking in a light manner, “Do you know a guy named Paulie?” He blew some smoke out of his nose.
Claire thought about it, smoking the end of her cigarette. She shook her head. “No,” she said.
“He’s a short guy with a huge gut, and he’s got dark patches of hair all over his head,” Hollis said, looking at her. “Kind of a nasal voice.”
“Oh!” Claire said, her eyes lighting up in recognition. “Yeah, I remember him. He came in once, got butt naked and jerked off looking at my ass.”
“That’s it?”
“Well, there was another time when he jerked off watching me and another girl go at it.”
“Oh.”
“He’s been around here with other girls but that’s all he did with me, those two times. You know, he’s got patches of hair like that all over his body?”
Hollis chuckled. “Really?”
“Yeah,” Claire nodded. “It’s gross.”
“So… does that happen a lot?” Hollis asked carefully.
“What, that guy come in? I dunno, I’ve only seen him the two times…”
“No, just… guys jerking it and only looking at you.”
“Yeah, actually, working here that happens a lot. With me, anyway. Some guys want to eat me out, some want me to jerk them or blow them. More that then they want to fuck. I guess a lot of guys are scared they won’t last long or something. Mostly older, lonely guys come in here and jerk off, like a live magazine I guess.”
“A fuckin’ expensive magazine.”
“Yeah, that’s the truth. I guess I must not be exotic enough for freaky guys.”
Hollis sat forward with his elbows resting on his thighs. Her answer made him feel a little more relaxed, but only by a little. He thought that she had gotten more beautiful over the years, despite her body eating away at itself. He wanted to have her, to be the only one who would have her. That’s why he chased her for three years. He would give everything up to have her again, but he felt weak because it wasn’t his choice, it was hers. She could tell him to fuck off forever. It would kill him, but he would. When they met she was still a virgin, and the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. They were nineteen. He didn’t want other people to be touching her in ways only he’s touched her, seen her face in expressions only he’s seen before. But mostly he didn’t want her to be touching or pleasuring other people. He wanted her to himself. He didn’t care if he was selfish. He wanted to take her away from everyone and everything. But though he had searched for three years to take her back as his own, now he was having doubts in the back of his mind because of how she sold her body to a countless number of people, and he wouldn’t know if she would be making love to him or following a pattern. It scared him. He knew this would plague him.
He watched her down the rest of her drink. She’d always been a good drinker; had been since before they met. Suddenly he asks, “Do you have any diseases?”
Claire chuckled and stretched her legs out. Her toes almost touched his leg and he didn’t flinch away. “If you get a disease you can’t get rid of no one wants to hire you. Most of those girls end up as strippers.”
“So you don’t have any you can’t ‘get rid of’?”
“Nope.”
“What have you had that you can ‘get rid of’?”
“Crabs,” she answered. After a short pause she added, “Pregnancy.”
Hollis winced and looked away. He felt an awkward tension building between them and it was all his fault. She had always been bluntly and brutally honest. He looked up and saw she was looking away. He reached behind him into his jacket and pulled out his cigarette pack. He took one out and, out of old habit, offered her one which she took. They sat silently smoking and didn’t look at each other until their cigarettes were more than halfway gone.
“Why did you come here?” Claire asked. She had turned and was looking directly into his eyes.
He smoked some of his remaining cigarette and let all the smoke exit his body before he spoke. “I came because I was going to find you and get you, no matter where you were and what you were doing. You’re the only thing that’s been right or fitting in my life. When you left you took my best parts with you.” She only looked at him through the smoke rising from her mouth with her head tilted back so he continued. “I can’t make you come with me. I can’t make you do anything. I can only ask you if you would come with me.” Silence. He dropped his cigarette butt into the ash-filled glass without taking his eyes from her. “Will you come with me, Claire?”
Claire sighed and dropped her butt in the glass, looking down at the floor. “I don’t know,” she said.
“When will you know?”
“I don’t know.” She looked up at him. His face was filled with raw emotion and hers felt numb.
“I can give you time to think about it.” He paused. “Do you get days off?”
“I get tomorrow off,” Claire said, “and Sundays. The other days I work from six PM ‘till three.”
“Meet me tomorrow,” he said eagerly. If he could, he wanted to get her out of there as quickly as possible. “We could eat somewhere.”
Food wasn’t exactly something that motivated Claire very much anymore, but she could already feel the anxiety of being separated from Hollis again, even after all this time. Seeing him again made her remember herself from where she came from, something she tried not to think about too much. “Where?” She asked.
Hollis figured he should make some money on the lot tomorrow so he said, “How about at this diner by my job, around six?
She looked at him without moving or blinking and said, “Okay. Where is this place?”
“It’s at Euclid
Claire blinked. “Yes,” she whispered, thinking that he’d been working two blocks from where she lived the whole time he was in town and she had no idea. Not even an inkling of a feeling of his presence.
It was well past midnight. Hollis was starting to feel tired, though he knew he would not sleep well, if at all that night. He must have been in her room for a few hours. They spent most of the night silent, looking at each other. She looked at him almost like she didn’t believe he was there. He works at eight in the morning but he didn’t want to leave. He wanted to fall to his knees before her and beg her to go with him. He wanted to feel her fingers dig into his body and smell her skin. He didn’t want to think about how many other men she’s dug her fingers into but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t stay much longer without the thought really start to bother him.
“You’ll meet me tomorrow, for sure then?” Hollis asked.
“Yeah…” she said. “Are you leaving?”
Hollis stood up. “Yeah. Have to wake up early to work.”
“You’re going to sleep in your truck?” Claire stood as Hollis put on his layers.
“Yep,” he said.
“Where?”
“The owner lets me park in his parking lot.”
“Oh,” Claire said. “You can crash at my place if you want.” She couldn’t help herself; she had to offer.
Hollis stopped his motion for a moment and looked at her. Then he shook his head and put on his top jacket. “No. I like being able to wake up at work.”
Claire nodded once and watched him. He was almost gone. There were so many things she wanted to say to him. Don’t go was one. Can you give me a ride home was another. If he did that he might be persuaded to stay, seeing how close the lot is to her apartment. She wanted to jump into his arms and hold on tight. She turned away and she knew then, for sure, that she would agree to go with him tomorrow.
She turned back to him and he was putting his ball cap on. She smiled. “Your hair’s gotten so long,” she said.
“Yeah, I haven’t cut it for a long time.” He put his beanie on over his cap, looking at her. “It hasn’t really been important enough to think about.” Claire only nodded. They stood looking at each other for several minutes which passed like seconds for them. Finally Hollis said, “I gotta go.”
Claire watched him turn and when his hand touched the doorknob she called out, “Hollis!”
At the sound of her saying his name he paused and turned.
Don’t go, don’t go, don’t go she wanted to say. All she could manage was, “…bye.”
He nodded and said, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” It was not a question. She nodded and he said, “Bye, Claire.” Then he went out the door and was gone. They went through the entire night without touching each other once – not even by accident.
Claire listened to the door click shut and she stood watching it, not moving. After a long moment she rushed to the door and touched it, then turned slightly and leaned her body on it. She stood with the door holding up her entire body. She pushed herself up slowly with her arms, opened the door and walked down the hall to the lounge, did a few lines and drank almost a bottle of bourbon. While she was getting completely ripped she was taking hits with Porsche, a good friend of hers.
“Why are you getting so tore up tonight?” Porsche asked. When Claire didn’t answer Porsche continued. “Does it have to do with that guy who saw you tonight?” When Claire still didn’t answer she continued. “He didn’t come here to fuck you, did he?”
“No,” Claire said, taking a shot of bourbon and breathing fire. She was starting to eye the tequila at the small bar in front of them.
Porsche matched her shot. “What did he want?” She was lining up a duo in front of them, then bent over and snorted one, handing a short glass tube to Claire. Claire didn’t say anything and snorted the second, coming up for air.
“He wants me to leave with him,” she said finally. She poured them both new shots, spilling some liquor on the counter.
Porsche looked at her. “Are you gonna go?”
Claire wasn’t ready to be definite yet. “Probably.”
Porsche whistled and said, “Girl, I would go with that man too if he came for me.” She drank her shot in one swift movement. “You gonna buy out of your contract?”
“Have to.” Claire drank her shot and burped. She lit a cigarette, the last one in her pack.
“Then what are you gonna do?
Claire shrugged. “Sell my stuff, I guess.”
Porsche sighed. “I’m gonna miss you, Evie. No one else here knows who John Coltrane or Chuck D are.” She leaned over and gave Claire a big kiss on the lips and hugged her. “And I get first dibs on your clothes.” She laughed.
Claire laughed too. Laughing felt good, she could feel it even above all the booze and drugs. “You got it,” she said.
Later on Claire was still drinking long after Porsche left for some work. The sun had come up when she drank herself to sleep on the couch. Some girls tried to wake her but couldn’t, so they draped a blanket over her.
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