Freement by William James Johnson Chapter 18

Every large city has its social cesspool, where the dregs of its broken lives gravitate. Brush Street, extending between Marion and Talbot Avenues on the lower east side, was the septic tank of Chathurst. Known only as Skid Row, it was the spawning ground of much of the city's crime. Prostitutes thinly disguised as taxi dance hostesses swindled naive factory workers out of thousands of dollars annually. Numerous all night bars catered to the alcoholics and hookers who did their thing in the blackened interiors. The police turned the other way when it came to life in the tenderloin.
When I first arrived in Chathurst, I had visited the area a few times, but then, observing broken lives held no fascination. Now for some strange reason, the decay surrounding me in my search for Aggie, was spellbinding. I preferred being with these derelicts to sitting alone in Ma Rooney's empty house. Their lust for life was contagious. Among the addicted, I sensed a freedom seldom experienced by so called straights.
After a week had gone by, I gave up looking for Aggie. I was searching for something else now. I had to know why these people chose to let their lives run down the drain. Talking with them I began to get more ideas for my movement. These pariahs had experienced more of life than I had ever thought possible, and they were willing to talk about their lives with anyone who showed any interest.
During Christmas week, while ambling along Brush Street, my head buried deep inside my coat collar out of the bitter wind, I heard the raucous wail of a combo seeping done from above. A sign said, "Ace Dance Palace", Thirty Beautiful Hostesses. This was my first experience in a dime-a-dance joint. Sitting at the
top of a steep narrow stairway was a sallow looking Syrian with slick-backed hair.
"How much to get in?"
"Don't cost nothin'. Just buy yourself a bunch of tickets and pick out the cutie you want."
"A dime a piece?"
"That's right. How many you want? Five bucks?"
"Hold on. I don't want fifty dances."
"You don't have to dance. Take her to a table. Buy her a few drinks. She'll love you for it. She gets a ticket for every three minutes she entertains you."
"Give me two bucks worth."
"The last of the big spenders."
The hall was a small upstairs flat whose partitions had been knocked out to make more room for business. In the far corner, near a partly opened front window, sat three black musicians, blasting away on cloud nine, oblivious to the commerce taking place in front of them. Red and green Christmas streamers hung lazily from the old picture moulding surrounding the room. A bar had been set up in the corner opposite the entrance and seductively leaning on it were four of the thirty beauties. Three other girls were having navel engagements with their customers to the strains of "Stardust".
It was so dark, I could hardly find my way around. A hand grabbed my arm and the throaty voice of one of the ladies spoke.
"How's about a dance honey? I'll give you a nice you-know- what, if you do." She gyrated her pelvis in typical burlesque fashion as she spoke.
"Maybe later. Okay?"
"Why waste time. Maybe later I'll be busy."
"That's the chance I'll have to take."
"What the hell's wrong. Ain't I good enough for you?"
"You're fine baby. Really fine."
She pulled me away from the side into the centre of the small dancing area and forced herself hard against me. My eyes had now become accustomed to the darkness. Her face was plastered with makeup. Her phoney eyelashes covered most of the flesh below her eyebrows, and she had painted herself a large sensuous mouth
on top of her thin selfish lips. She plucked the tickets out of my hand and shoved them between her hard breasts, held in by a tight fitting orchid coloured sheath.
"Put your arms around me honey? Might as well enjoy it. You're paying for it."
"Where are the rest of the ladies? I only see seven."
"That's an old sign out front. There's only one more, and she's out right now doin' a trick."
"Trick?"
"Yeah. You know. Doin' her bit for the boys. Come on honey you're time will soon be up and I ain't done nothin' for you yet. You don't have to keep your hands up there. Put 'em down, where they'll do some good. Go ahead. Put one on each cheek." She let out a low bawdy laugh at her own suggestion.
The pulse in my temple beat rapidly as my hands slipped slowly over the firm roundness of her buttocks. I let them search out her full curves, remembering the taut black dress that stretched across Judy's bottom, when she bent over in Silverman's. There was no panty ridge. She wasn't wearing anything underneath. Her gown hugged her like a paint job. I clasped my hands tightly against her squirming ass as she pressed me into a corner beside a closed door, continually rotating her hips against mine.
"How about it honey? We've got a nice room out back. Only ten bucks for a quickie. I know you want it. You can't hide that from me. I'd hate to spoil it by leaving you like this."
She rode up and down on my erection and opened the door behind her, tugging at me.
"Look. I'd rather not. Thanks anyway."
"What the fuck's wrong with you. Queer or something?"
I walked away from her, with considerable difficulty. I really wanted a woman. but I wasn't going to give in to her. I wanted to be the one who made the selection, not her.
Standing by the shifty looking doorman was an auburn haired beauty with a splendid figure. She wore a three piece quarter length aqua gown which revealed slim, beautifully formed calves, and a delicately narrow waist. I sat down and waited for her to come in. As she passed, I felt there was something familiar about her profile. I returned to the entrance and bought another fistful of tickets, and motioned her to come over.
"What will you have honey?"
"Haven't I seen you somewhere before?"
"Yeah. I used to be the queen of England."
"Wait please. I mean it. Have you ever been in Brewster?"
"What do you know about Brewster?"
"It's true. You have been there."
She sat down and studied me carefully in the dim light. Suddenly she recognized me. "John. Johnny Martindale!"
"Right. But I still can't place you."
"How could you forget? Donna."
"Donna Curtis?"
"Right on."
Sweet innocent Donna. The girl who checked out the guys at Brewster High. She still had a lovely face, but there was a hint of hardness under her heavy make up.
"God it's good to see you."
She put her hands on each side of my face and kissed me. I could feel her soft, unbound breasts flattening against my chest.
"Let's not talk here. It's too dark. Let's go out back where I can get a good look at you."
She grabbed my arm and led me through the door I had faced before, into a dark narrow corridor. Before opening another door she kissed me again.
"John Martindale. I can't believe it."
"I was thinking the same thing."
The light switch clicked as she reached inside the door. A naked bulb dangled awkwardly from a long twisted cord above the bed. An old fashioned dresser stood against the wall on the right of the entrance, and beside it was a table with a pitcher of water standing in a basin. Outside the window, the wind whistled through the cracks of the ill-fitting frame. She pulled down the shade.
"That's a raw wind tonight."
"Makes me think of that time we were together in that barn."
"Wasn't that some night?"
"You're still very beautiful Donna."
"Yeah. Like ten miles of bad road."
"I mean it. You have a lovely face. And that body. Well it's obvious you've taken good care of yourself."
"Considering."
"Must be tough. All those guys."
"Forget about me Johnny. I want to hear about you. Weren't you supposed to be a priest or something."
"Do you think I'd be here if I was?"
She turned away. I realized my answer had hurt her.
"I'm sorry Donna. I didn't mean it that way."
"Skip it. What's done is done. How come you never went through with it?"
"Liked the girls too much I guess."
"You still remember that night in the barn?"
"How could I forget it. That was the night I fell in love with you."
"I loved you too Johnny. I really did. But that was a long time ago. Things change. People change...I forgot to ask you if you were married. Then of course knowing you, if you were married you wouldn't be in a place like this."
"No I'm not married. Been going steady with a girl from school."
"School?"
"I'm at university. Spent a lot of years making cars and saving my money so I could get an education."
"That's great. I'm glad for you Johnny. You'll become somebody. But me. I'm nothing."
"What're you talking about. You can't be more than twenty- four. You've got your whole life ahead of you."
She stood up and looked in the mirror and stretched the flesh in the corners of her eyes to make the wrinkles disappear.
"Look at me. Hard as nails. Ask anybody."
I stood behind her and placed my hands on her shoulders, studying the face in the mirror. She felt soft. The sensation of her perfumed hair carried me back eight years to the corridors of Brewster High, when I used to thrill at the aura of sweetness that hovered around her.
"You're as soft as rose petals."
She turned and wrapped her arms around me.
"That was sweet. But then, you always were."
Holding her face gently, I kissed those lips she made so soft. My body began to react to the love play she knew so well. Her arm left me for a moment, then the room was in darkness. We moved slowly to the bed. I heard her shoes strike the floor, followed by mine.
"Oh Johnny. I want you so much."
"I need you too Donna."
"Let's not spoil it by saying we love each other."
"No more talking my sweet. Let me enjoy the nearness of you."
She undressed me as she spoke. Her own clothing came off as if by magic. Her moistness soaked me and let me slide deep inside. Her desire was unquenchable. The more I tried, the more she wanted. I had no idea I could come so often. When it looked like there was not an ounce of passion remaining, she did wonderful things with her mouth which brought my throbbing erection to the bursting point. I thought Aggie knew it all, but she couldn't hold a candle to the skill of Donna. My body felt like a damp dish rag when her passion finally subsided.
"Are you tired my poor darling? I've been so hard on you."
"It's a wonderful kind of tired."
"You're some man. Remember what you were like at that dance in Brewster?"
"I sure do. You must've thought I was real clueless."
"You've certainly learned a lot along the way."
"You've changed too Donna."
"I knew we were coming to that."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Might as well. I'd like you to know what happened."
She was lying on my arm. Our naked bodies touched gently under the warm covers. Her voice seemed to be coming from far away.
"I've always liked boys. Maybe it was because they seemed to like me. I knew why they liked me. I let them do what they wanted with me. I felt I had to. I needed loving and I was going to get it one way or another."
"My life at home was miserable Johnny. People didn't know what it was like. Daddy was a respectable banker as far as they were concerned. But at home it was horrible. Mom was terribly jealous of me. Constantly accusing dad of fooling around with me. Actually she was right. He began fondling me when I was only eleven, arousing me, getting me to do things with him. I didn't know it was wrong. No one ever said it was wrong. I thought this was the way, a11 fathers showed their love for their daughters."
"One night he came home drunk and tried to get into bed with me. Mom heard me struggling and came in and caught us. He had ripped off my nightie and I was standing over him, naked. She took his side, and accused me of being nothing but a little whore. She took his belt and began hitting me across the bare back and legs until she made me bleed. She threatened to kick me out, but couldn't because she was afraid of what others might say. It was horrible. I was thirteen."
"That was the last love I knew in my home. I had enjoyed the pleasure of being touched and I began looking for more of it. At Brewster, it wasn't hard to find. I knew I was asking for trouble, but at least if I couldn't have love, I could make love. There's been a bunch of guys through the years. I always hoped that someone would come along and I would fall in love. But no luck. I'm afraid Johnny. I can't stand to be hurt again."
"How come you came to Chathurst?"
"I got knocked up when I was seventeen. That did it as far as my mother was concerned. I ran away from home and had the baby here. For a couple of years I tried looking after her, but it was tough enough just looking after myself. I put her up for adoption. I just couldn't work and care for her at the same time."
"I lost jobs because I wouldn't let bosses mess around. So finally I got wise to myself. If they wanted me so bad, let 'em pay for it. This way I get to pick the guys I want and the bucks came rolling in."
"I'm sorry for you Donna."
"Sorry for what. I'm doing what I wanted to do. No one forced me. I've never had it so good."
"You call this room good?"
"I don't live here. This is just my place of business."
"Don't you ever feel guilty about it all?"
"Jesus, now you‘re talking like a priest."
"What about God? Don't you feel you are sinning?"
"For Chrissake! If I'd known you were gonna preach, I would have left you to one of the other girls."
"Please don't get me wrong. I've started a movement on campus which someday may change how people behave. I'm really concerned how someone like you has been able to choose a life like this and feel fulfilled."
"You serious'?"
"Yes I am. I honestly want to know."
"It's not so hard. I just couldn't afford to believe in God anymore. It would drive me crazy trying to believe and living the way I do. Something had to go, and God lost."
"And you got rid of your conscience too?"
"Not completely. There's a code of ethics in all professions I suppose. We have ours. But there's no place for God in this kind of life."
"When did you realize this change was taking place?"
"Back in Brewster. I guess it was when I realized how miserable my parents had made my life even though they were regular church goers. Something wasn't right. I began to think maybe there is no God. From these doubts it finally became belief. There can't be a God Johnny and all this misery too."
"So you changed when you stopped believing?"
"And started living. You've got to decide what you want to do with your life, then do it. I enjoy men. That's my heaven. When I've got a firm cock pounding away between my legs, that's paradise. Call me mad, but that's my life."
Turning her face towards me, she kissed me. Her soft breast began to harden against my chest. Soon I was sharing again the throbbing pleasures of Donna's paradise, as the chill wind seeped through the cracks in the window frame.

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