Elsie
Pyne turned her first trick in the back alley of a Halifax hotel when
she was fourteen. It was, she often said, the easiest and quickest
twenty bucks she ever made and, she was proud to add, she never
looked back.
Twenty
dollars and a a bottle of perfume! she
gloated when she told us about it.
Ruthie
and I were horrified.
No,
you didn't! Ruthie exclaimed,
here eyes wide with shock, Liar!
Elsie
produced a carefully folded, still crisp $20 bill from her bra and
laughed.
Did
so too! she chirped, And
I'm gon' do it again! It ain't nothin'!
You
cain't! Ruthie said a little
desperately and then lowered her voice to a harsh whisper, Daddy
says girls who take money for.........like that......they's whores!
Bound for hell, he says!
I
ain't worried 'bout goin' to no hell, Ruth, Elsie
snapped defiantly, and I ain't washin' no more dishes in
that dirty ol' cafe neither! And you, girl, she
added, scowling and taking a step toward Ruthie who instantly backed
up, You ain't tellin' nobody nothin' 'bout this or I'll be
seein' you black and blue all over!
The
threat made Ruthie pale and bite down on her lower lip. Hard. So
hard I thought it might bleed.
You
could come home, Elsie, I said
tentatively, I heard Miz McIntyre's lookin' for help in the
store.
Bet
Rawlie'd give you your old job back in a New York minute, Ruthie
added.
I
ain't gon' be nobody's shop girl, Elsie
said grimly, And I sure as hell ain't gon' go back to
shovelin' fish guts in that goddamn factory neither! I'm gittin'
out! You jist see if I don't!
Considering
that people who lead idle lives meddle, gossip travels and men talk,
it was nothing short of remarkable that no one ever found out.
Ruthie and I grew up, learned a little more about the world and got
over our horror. Sometimes on a Sunday morning, Elsie might be home
for the weekend and would come to church. She always arrived just a
little late and sat alone but after services, there would be just a
hint of “Evening in Paris” in the air and a crisp, neatly folded
$20 bill in the collection basket.
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