She looked away. “They were gross. But I was so out of it, I didn’t realize what was happening. I mean, I did, but it was like it wasn’t really me, or like it was me in a dream, you know? Anyway, I must’ve passed out eventually. I didn’t wake up until the next morning.”
She picked up the glass and applied the towel furiously, long after it was dry. “I woke up and found I was naked, not a stitch on me. And no, in case you’re wondering, I didn’t normally sleep that way. Then I noticed the surroundings were all wrong. I wasn’t in my room; I was in his room—in his bed. And then—” She set the glass down on the counter. “And then I noticed that he was lying next to me, and he wasn’t wearing anything either.”
Her eyes closed, fighting back the tears. “I thought it couldn’t get any worse than that. But it did. I sat up, and I saw one of my stepfather’s friends in bed on the other side of me. And he was naked, too.”
Ben felt his stomach tighten. He dropped a few more plates into the sudsy dishwater.
“I didn’t know what to do, but I knew I had to get out of there. I got dressed and ran out of the house. As far as I was concerned, I was running away and never coming back. But where could I go? I didn’t have any money, not a dime. I didn’t know anything about buses, or trains, or shelters. I just wandered around the streets aimlessly. Couple of hours later, he found me. He grabbed me by the hair, slapped me a few times, and dragged me into his car. When he got me home, he beat me up but good. I had bruises, a black eye, welts. That’s how I got this scar across my nose. My mom was home the whole time, but she never said a word. I screamed out to her, but she wouldn’t interfere. She was scared of him, too.”
“You should have gone to the police,” Ben said.
“I did, about a week later. My stepfather told me he was having another party and he wanted me to be there. To entertain, he said. I just couldn’t let it happen again. If it did, I’d be more than just sick. I’d die—I was certain of it. So I ran to the police station and told them what he did to me. They put me in a tiny room with four male officers, and I told them everything, over and over again. I was amazed—it just came pouring out of me. I told them everything about my stepfather.”
“And?”
Her lip curled, men trembled. “They didn’t believe me. Not one of them. They said I was making it up.”
“Whether they believed you or not, they had a duty to investigate.”
“Yeah. And they did, in a way. They called my stepfather. I begged them not to, but they did. He came in, furious, and they put him in me same tiny room with me, and—what a surprise!—he denied everything.”
“Did you have a chance to call any other witnesses?”
“Who would I call? No one else knew, except his buddies and my mother, and I knew they wouldn’t say anything. It was just him against me. And they believed him.”
“Did they hold a hearing?”
“Yeah.” Her hands gripped both ends of the kitchen counter. “My stepfather showed up with some fancy lawyer and a buddy from the police station. Some clown I’d never seen before in my life came in claiming to be my guardian or something. What a joke—he didn’t even talk to me. My stepfather’s cop friend got the whole thing fixed. He talked to the judge privately and he talked to the other officers who were going to testify. He convinced them I was a troublemaker. A discipline problem, that’s what they kept calling me.
“The judge said a lot of stuff I didn’t understand about how I hadn’t proven a right to be emancipated and ordered me to go back to live with my stepfather. Can you believe it? No matter what I did, I couldn’t get away from him. The judge ordered me to go back and live with the man who…who…” She turned away from him and dabbed her eyes with the dish towel.
Ben cleared his throat. He wanted to comfort her, to tell her that he understood, but he didn’t know how to begin. “Sometimes there are some…problems with the juvenile justice system.”
“Justice?” She was crying full out now. Ben took the plate from her hands, turned off the running water, and led her back to the Jiving room. She crumpled onto the sofa and continued to cry. Ben sat next to her and waited.
After a long while, Trixie composed herself enough that Ben felt he could ask another question. “Did you go home with your stepfather after the hearing?”
“I had no choice. They literally put me in the car with him. As soon as we were out of sight, he hit me in the face. With his fist. And promised he’d do a lot more when we got home.”
Ben swallowed. He was afraid to ask what happened next.
“We walked through the front door. He turned toward me, his face all twisted up real mean, like he could kill me with his bare hands, and I kicked him right between the legs. Just like that, before he even had a chance to think about it. Hard. While he was down, I grabbed his wallet from his coat pocket and ran out the door. I ran to the bus station, got on the first bus that left and didn’t get off till I was in Tulsa.”
“Do you have relatives in Tulsa?”
“No. I don’t have relatives anywhere, at least not that I know of. I was just out of money. Someone picked me up at the bus station, though. Someone who was scouting for Sonny.”
“Sonny is your…boss?”
“Right. I had no hope at all at this point, and my stepfather’s money was almost gone. I was certain I was going to starve to death, or freeze to death, or the some other horrible painful way. Or get sent back to my stepfather, which would be worse. Sonny offered me hope. He offered to take care of me.”
“If you’d work for him.”
“Right. I didn’t like it, but what could I do? I couldn’t even get a job at McDonald’s at my age. I almost didn’t get a job from Sonny.”
“I didn’t realize he was all that particular.”
“He requires all his girls to have a physical regularly, especially before they start. Says he doesn’t want them spreading diseases that might put off his customers. I couldn’t get a physical, though, without some kind of ID. Thank God for Buddy. I guess you’ve met him; he works the other side. He’s the best friend I’ve ever had. Only friend, really. He pretended to be my stepfather and got a copy of my birth certificate.”
“And you passed the physical?”
“Of course. And I’ve been hooking ever since. Maybe it’s not my dream come true or anything, but I had to keep on eating somehow. So I made a compromise.”
“Another compromise.” Ben was quiet for a moment. “Seems awfully risky.”
“Hey, life is risky. If you don’t believe me, just try crossing the street in these heels sometime.”
“How long has it been since you left home?”
“Over a year now.”
Ben felt himself sinking into the sofa. Over a year. Twelve months. Three hundred and sixty-five days on the street. “Trixie, I’m so sorry. I just wish—”
“I’m the one who should be sorry. What a whiner I am.” She brushed away her tears and grinned. “You’re a nice guy, you know. Sweet.”
“Well, anyone else would feel the same—”
“I know that’s not true. Boy, do I know it.” She nodded toward the upstairs bedroom. “You wanna…you know, go upstairs?”
Ben closed his eyes. “No, Trixie. I don’t think that would be…” He struggled to find the right words. “We still need to talk. I know this has been hard for you. But I need to know how you became involved with this Kindergarten Club.”
She shrugged, disappointed, but unwilling to show it. “The Kindergarten Club was around long before me. I was a late entry. They drafted me to replace Carol Jo after she went back to L.A.”