“I’m sorry, Mrs. Cartwright. There won’t be any future wages. I told you, I’m quitting.”
“My dear, you don’t seem to appreciate your situation. I’m afraid the organization simply wouldn’t hear of your quitting. They already have a considerable investment in you.”
“But I don’t want to do this sort of work any more.”
“I’m afraid that what you want or don’t want at this point is of no consequence. You’ll simply have to continue on the job until your indebtedness—plus interest, of course--is paid back.”
“But that’s white slavery!”
“Don’t be dramatic, my dear. It’s nothing of the sort. I’m simply holding you to our business arrangement.”
“Suppose I won’t do it?”
“I wouldn’t even think thing like that, my dear. It could be—umm—disastrous. You’re a pretty girl. You’re a young girl. Don’t jeopardize your chance of staying pretty and of growing older. The organization is very impersonal, you see. If you persisted in your recalcitrance, retribution would be automatic.”
“I see.” Llona thought desperately for a moment. “Look, Mrs. Cartwright, if I’m forced to continue on the job, then I’ll be doing it unwillingly. Now, that won’t make me very good at my work. Don’t you agree?”
“There’s a certain amount of logic to what you say. But—”
“Wait. Hear me out. Now, suppose I admit that I owe you money and I’m willing to pay it back—the interest you mentioned included. Couldn’t the organization perhaps arrange for me to work at some other sort of job until they’re paid off?”
“It’s a possibility.”
“Wouldn’t that be better for all concerned?” Llona persisted, encouraged by Mrs. Cartwright’s cautious agreement.
“It might be. Let me talk to them about it. I’ll let you know.”
“Thank you,” Llona said fervently. “And good-bye.”
“Good-bye.” Mrs. Cartwright hung up.
A few days later Llona heard from her for the last time. It had been arranged for Llona to work as a waitress in a diner. Half of her salary and tips would be deducted each week until her indebtedness was paid.
Thus Llona once again managed to salvage her virtue. It took her three months to pay what she owed. At the end of that time, Llona was promptly fired.
It had taken every bit of the halt-salary Llona earned during that three-month‘ period just to live. She hadn’t been able to save a penny. She tried to find another job without success. After a week of looking, she had to face the fact that her resources were drained. She couldn’t even afford to pay the rent for another week on the small room she’d taken in a cheap lodging house. There was only one thing to do, and she did it. She bought a bus ticket back to Birchville.
Home hadn’t changed. The town was still the ugly, sprawling prairie village it had been for the past sixty years. Progress had passed Birchville by, and it looked it. Llona viewed it with distaste as she lugged her suitcase from the bus station to her parents’ home.
Her mother was weepily delighted to see Llona. But the delight was tinged with apprehension over how Llona’s father would greet his runaway daughter’s return. That evening, when he got home from work, mother and daughter had their first chance to judge his attitude.
“So you’re back,” he said, as laconic as ever.
“I’m back.” Llona granted the obvious.
“Are you ruin’t?” He asked the question uppermost in his mind.
“No, Pa. ”
“How do I know you’re not a-lying to me?”
“I guess you’ll just have to take my word for it.”
“I reckon so.” He sighed. “Anyways, I heard today where they’re lookin’ for a girl down to the Five-and-Dime. You go down there tomorrow, I s’pect they’ll give you your old job back.”
“All right, Pa. I’ll go down first thing in the morning.”
“You do that, Llona. A bit o’ work ’ll keep you out of trouble ’til you get married and settle down. I sure wish you’d hurry up and do that, though. You coulda done it afore, if you hadn’t run off.”
“I’m sorry, Pa.”
“Yeah. Well, what’s past is past and best forgot.”
That was the only reference he made to the incident with George Rutherford, and Llona was relieved. She wasn’t really sure how she felt about George, but she was sure that she didn’t want any man to marry her because her father forced him to do it. That hadn’t changed.
A week or so later she had her first opportunity to consider her feelings about George. He came into the Five-and-Dime, welcomed her home, and asked her to go out with him that evening. Discreetly, Llona arranged to meet him at the movie theatre. She didn’t mention the date at home. She didn’t know how her father might react. But she didn’t want to take any chances, either.
After the movies, George drove his Volkswagen to the outskirts of town and parked there He doused his lights and turned to take Llona in his arms. Soon, he was playing with her right ear and nibbling her left ear. A moment later his hand was down the front of her blouse, playing with her left breast. George, Llona reflected, hadn’t changed his technique one whit.
Still, Llona didn’t mind it at all. There was something warm and reassuring about the way George petted with her. It was nice--safe and secure—to know what to expect from a man. And now that she was able to relax with it, Llona found his caresses every bit as stimulating as they had been the first time he’d attempted them, when they’d both been back in high school.
“George,” she asked when they were driving back home, “are you still a virgin?”
“Now, that’s a hell of a question to ask a man, Llona!”
“I’m sorry. It’s just that the last time It saw you -- that night my father caught us—you admitted to me that you were.”
"I was just funning you.”
“Were you, George?” Somehow Llona didn’t believe him.
“Sure I was.”
“Then you've had a woman?”
“Shucks, of course I have. Lots of ’em.”
“George, that’s just the way you used to act. But then you told me it wasn’t true. Were you lying then, or now?”
“No matter what I say, you’re not going to believe me, Llona. I reckon there’s only one way to find out,” he added " meaningfully.
Llona thought about that a while. “I reckon so,” she agreed finally.
“Want to go out again Wednesday night?” George asked as he pulled the car up about half a block down from Llona’s house.
“Let’s make it Thursday instead,” she suggested thoughtfully. “And you can pick me up at the house.”
“Is that smart? Your Daddy’s liable to have a fit.”
“He won’t be home. It’s his bowling night. And Mama will be out at the Ladies’ Auxiliary. We’ll have the house all to ourselves.”
“I see.” George gulped. “I see. Well, I’ll see you Thursday, then.”
“About nine o’clock.”
“About nine. Right. See you then, sugar.”
“See you then, George.” Llona got out of the car and walked the half-block to her parents’ house. As she walked, she was thinking about Thursday, wondering, anticipating. Later, in bed, the anticipation continued and Thursday night became something of an erotic goal to her.
When it finally came, Llona had prepared herself much as she had on a similar night some months before. She’d drenched herself in perfume, worn a low-cut blouse and a tight skirt, turned the lights down low, and put some romantic records on the hi-fi. She was lying on the couch, posing provocatively, when she heard George at the screen door on the porch.
“In here, George,” she called.
He entered the room and stopped to look at her appreciatively. “Well don’t you look yummy,” he observed.
“Thanks. Well, don’t just stand there gawking. Come on over here and sit down.”