Part One: There is No Such Thing as Human Debris
Eleven PM on a cold December Tuesday night. The air was clear with a quick breeze and the bright stars twinkled in the chill. There was no moon. Below them to the north a purple cloud of light crept up into the sky. A young man sat in a small, older truck, silver and dented with a white camper shell in a dark parking lot. He shifted in his seat. He’d been sitting there for over two hours trying to decide if going inside the building was worth it or not. After years of searching and the possibility of it ending in this parking lot he was left with an empty feeling. Before, he thought he would feel anxious. Maybe it was only the search that kept him going, the need to find something. Yet, looking for so long has left him accustomed to the search. He decided now was the time to either go inside or leave forever. He didn’t come all this way just to leave.
The building sat ominously in front of him, black against the purple sky with only a neon sign to show passer-byers that it wasn’t just another warehouse. The pink and green sign boasting the words “Pussy Catz” showed that it was instead just another whorehouse. The only light was coming out of the double glass doors at the front and a light just outside of them, with the exception of a street light at the driveway.
He reached into his pocket and counted the money in his wallet. He had almost $600 from his job at a big Christmas tree lot. The pay wasn’t great but the tips really helped him out, doubling his pay. He put his wallet away. His breath came out in white puffs and he pulled his ball cap tighter onto his head as he got out of his truck. There were several other cars in the parking lot. While he’d been sitting there he’d seen eleven men go in and six different men leave. Some cars were high class and some were in worse shape then his own, and some were in between.
He wasn’t nervous but he lit a fresh cigarette anyway, staring at the building in the dark. A pizza delivery car drove up to the door and a skinny delivery boy scrambled out of his car and into the front door of the building with a pizza case. After a minute or two he hurried back out, got into his car and sped off. The young man got out of his truck, dropped his cigarette butt, stepped it out and walking to the building.
The inside hallway reminded him of a hospital, specifically like the one he went to after getting his eyebrow split open in a fight and needing stitches. It was sterile. He could almost smell rubbing alcohol. The walls were white and blank, the white tile floors were speckled with bland color and there were two wooden benches along the right wall. He heard his footsteps echoing against the walls. Up ahead sat a chubby man with curly red hair and freckles shoving pizza into his face and making noises that resembles a pig. He sat behind a wall of bullet-proof glass with a cluster of small holes for communication purposes and a short, wide slot at the bottom for exchange purposes. On the wall behind him hung a small analog clock and a big sterile white sign displaying prices. 1 girl/45 minutes at $500. 2 girls/45 minutes at $650. $150 each additional half hour. The pig looked up at him snorting, and shoved more food into his mouth.
As he approached the counter the wall on his right side jumped back, and sure enough, there was a backlit wall of pictures of naked female pussies just like at a fast food restaurant. Each had a number up to #58 with captions like “Purebred Italian,” “Purebred African,” “Purebred Mexican,” “100% American,” “Half and Half,” “Fresh and Fragrant.” Some were shaved clean, some had pubic styling, some had small bushes. Some of the pictures weren’t lit up, like they were unavailable.
The young man studied the pictures on the wall and he found the one he was looking for, the one pussy he would never forget during the entirety of his life. Turning to the pig he put down $500 down on the counter made up from $20 and $5 bills. That was the majority of his money. He was lucky it wasn’t more. If it was more and he had to leave, he didn’t know if he could bring himself to return.
“Number thirty-four,” he said, his voice raspy and his mouth dry. He could hear the mumble of a television from the other side of the glass. The Pig grunted and got up. As the Pig typed something into a computer the young man caught a faint reflection of himself on the bullet-proof glass. He saw the old beanie he wore over his cap, the big, worn-in jacket with the high collar and his rectangular black-framed glasses. His beard had grown out over the years. Behind that he could see his cheeks were dark and sunken in a little and bags under his eyes, a thinned neck and shoulders. Thoughts were running through his mind like this is the end, what if it isn’t her, what could possibly come of this, what are you going to do, you aren’t prepared for this, etc.
The Pig picked up a phone and barked something into it and hung up. Then he counted the money and tossed a key with a keychain engraved with the numbers ‘319’ on the counter through the slot.
“Up the stairs, 3rd floor, down the hall to your left. You got 45 minutes. If you want more, tell her. You pay her. Got that?” The Pig dictated.
The young man nodded, took the key and headed up the sterile stairs to the third floor. He was careful not to touch the railings of the walls, keeping his hands in his pockets. At the head of the stairs on the third floor was a door with a push panic bar. He turned and pushed it open with his back. The hallway was dark, with light sconces lighting up single spots along the walls. On the way down the hall he heard muffled female laughter, male mumbling and women crying out and faking orgasms from behind closed doors. Mirrors lined the walls between doors. He tried to avoid his reflection in them. The red carpet looked old and worn. The red and gold striped wallpaper was faded and peeling in some areas.
His feet stopped moving and he was in front of door 319. He didn’t feel nervous but he still wiped his palms on his ratted jeans. His heart started to speed up in anticipation. He assumed he was supposed to open the door with the key, but he knocked instead. Softly at first, then more firm.
There was some faint rustling behind the door followed by some footsteps and the door swung open. He held his breath. He could hear his heart beating in his ears.
She stood with one arm holding the door open and the other leaning, almost holding her up on the door frame. She was wearing a tight, short dress buttoned-up to her neck made entirely of some small looped lace. He could see every curve of her naked body under the lace and the outlines of her dark nipples. Her dark brown hair was tied back in a ponytail and kind of had a 1940’s twist to it. Her lips were painted red and she had thick lines of eyeliner sweeping beyond her eyes and pointing to her temples, stacked on top with thick, dark eye shadow. He watched her eyes. They started at his feet and after grazing up his body she turned her head up to his face and their eyes locked.
“Hollis…” she whispered. He gave her a small, faint smile that was mostly hidden by his beard. She stepped out of the doorway and he walked in. She shut the door behind him and stood staring at it, trying to believe what had just happened. Hollis glanced around the small room. He saw a full mattress on a simple bed frame covered in an embroidered white sheet with a few pillows. A lamp table with a big glass fishbowl filled with condoms and sexual lubricant, a few dildos and a box of tissues sat next to the bed. There were also two simple cushioned wooden chairs with armrests against the wall next to the door. On the purple painted walls were framed old-fashioned burlesque photos and sketches, along with pictures of flowers. There was a window in the wall facing him between the bed and the closet door with dark purple velvet curtain draped closed over it.
Hollis removed his jacket and hats. Under his jacket he wore a hooded sweatshirt which he then removed and hung over one chair along with his jacket, revealing a thin flannel shirt with holes showing another shirt beneath. He left those on and sat in the second chair with his hands folded in his lap.
She slowly moved away from the door and sat tentatively on the edge of the bed with her legs stretched out in front of her, straight and crossed. They sat looking at each other, silent and motionless.
Finally she spoke. “What are you doing here?”
He looked into her eyes. “I could ask you the same thing.”
Her eyes stared back into his, not leaving. There was another silence.
“How did you find me?”
“Three years of searching was bound to be fruitful at some point.”
“You looked for me for three years?”
“You looked for me for three years?”
He nodded. “Since right after you left.”
Her eyes dropped once he spoke. She never expected this to happen. She even tried to cover up her tracks as best as she could. She was embarrassed to be seen by him like this. She felt her eyes start to tear up and she turned to look up at where the wall met the ceiling, waiting for the tears to disappear.
Hollis was watching her. Her chest rose and sank slowly with her breath. She used to look healthy but her skin has lost color and she looked malnourished. Her breasts were considerably smaller. He knew she was spending these past few years destroying herself, he just didn’t know how bad.
With her eyes almost dry again she turned back to look at him. His stature was much smaller than he used to be. His dark blonde hair had grown out enough to get wavy and matted. He had a beard that grew out past his jaw line and was full of different shades, ranging from light blonde to dark auburn. She wanted to jump into his arms and feel his strong shoulders around her, the pressure of his body against hers, but she also wanted to slap his face hard enough to bulge his eyes out permanently. She remained still.
“Don’t you eat anymore?” Hollis asked after they had been staring at each other for a while.
The girl laughed. “Well,” she said, “with all the diet pills and coke around here it’s hard to find the time to eat.” She looked at him and asked, “How about you?”
“Whenever I can,” he said. He sat looking at her and felt emotions he couldn’t give a name to. Mostly, though, he was in pain. He hated seeing her like this. She was so cold and in a way, almost hollow. Seeing her nude body made him uncomfortable. He didn’t know what his plan would be once he found her, but all he wanted was to rescue her from herself. He said her name. “Claire…”
She winced. She wasn’t ready to hear her name come from his lips, not yet.
He continued. “I want you to come with me.”
“Where?” She asked mockingly, scoffing.
“It doesn’t matter. Away. From here. From… this.”
Claire looked disgusted. She laughed. “You think you can just show up, at my job, out of the blue and take me away with you? Not even here for an hour and you’re already fucking trying to control me.”
“Well look at where you are. You get fucked every night by countless, dirty strangers with no idea about where they’ve been before. Do you like this life?”
“At least this life has been my decision the whole way. Besides, this place isn’t bad; it’s better than most.”
Hollis crossed his arms and looked at her in disbelief that she could say a place like this and a life like this wasn’t bad.
“Anyway,” she continued, “I can’t just up and walk away. I’m bound to a contract. I have three months left before I can renew or leave.” She didn’t forget to mention that she could buy out of her contract. She meant to leave it out.
To Hollis this almost sounded like there was a chance she would want to go with him. They sat in silence again.
Claire was beginning to relax a little. She felt like she was in control of this meeting. She sat back on the bed, away from the edge and trailed her naked foot in circles on the carpet. “Have you been in town long?” She asked, not looking up.
“Maybe a little over two months.”
“Where are you staying?”
“In my truck.”
“In weather this cold?”
“You’d be surprised how quick one can get accustomed to the cold,” Hollis said. Her silence told him she knew.
The built in digital wall timer chimed. Time had gone by quickly, almost too quickly.
“You have five minutes left,” she told him. “Do you want to get your money’s worth?”
Hollis laughed in a piercingly mean way. “I bet you’d like it if I paid you for sex.”
She stared at him. His eyes seemed to be fueled by raw emotion. In the past she would have recoiled at a verbal jab like that. Now she only continues the business. “Your other option is buying more time.”
“No,” he said, getting up. “I think I’ve seen enough.” He started to put his sweatshirt and jacket back on. Claire watched him move, then got up and opened her closet door, reaching into a pocket in her small robe and pulled out some folded bills adding up to $980. She held them out towards Hollis.
“Take this,” she said to him.
His tall figure turned around at her words. He looked down at the bills and snorted. “I don’t want your… money,” he said, putting his cap and beanie on his head.
“Since when did you start caring about where money comes from?” A pause. “Look, just take it. Sleep in a bed tonight. Buy some new pants. Eat a hot meal. There are good all-night buffets all over the city…” Another pause. “Maybe you could use it to come back and see me…” As she finished speaking his eyes fell down to the money she was now holding out in a clenched fist. He held out his hand below it and she dropped it into his hand.
They both paused again for a moment, eyes locked. Then Hollis turned away and the door shut quickly behind him. With the sounds of the door click and his footsteps walking quickly away Claire’s legs felt weak. She fell into the closest chair. It was the chair he had been sitting in. She could feel the heat that had radiated from his body as he had sat there. She felt a sudden chill run up her body. She closed her eyes and saw the image of him sitting in the same chair burned into her retinas and reflecting off the black of her eyelids. She had to see him one last time, in case it was the last time. She slowly opened the door and looked around. The hallway was empty. That was good. She didn’t want to see anyone and have to talk or answer questions. She closed the door and hurried down the hall to a dark conference room with a round table in the center and a window facing the parking lot.
She got there in time to see him walking across the parking lot. He was by his same old truck with a new camper shell. She held her breath, watching him. He pulled his keys from his jacket pocket and opened the door. Before he moved to get into his truck he turned his head to look back at the building where he had found her. She saw him gaze for long enough to think he was going to turn around and come back. Then he got into the truck and after a moment he drove away.
Claire took a step away from the window, then turned and walked back to her room. She hoped to not get any more business that night. She pulled her robe out of her closet and left her room again. She went to the lounge the girls kept at the end of the hall and poured herself a generous bourbon on the rocks.
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