Читаем Eight Million Ways To Die полностью

"I'd trade it for the old denim jacket," she said, "if I could have the years back. No, I wouldn't. Because if I had them back I'd just do the same thing with them, wouldn't I? Oh to be nineteen again and know what I know now, but the only way that could be is if I started tricking at fifteen, and then I'd be dead by now. I'm just rambling. I'm sorry."

"No need."

"I want to get out of the life."

"And do what? Go back toMinnesota ?"

"Wisconsin. No, I won't be going back. There's nothing there for me. Just because I want out doesn't mean I have to go back."

"Okay."

"I can make lots of trouble for myself that way. I reduce things to two alternatives, so if A is no good that means I'm stuck with B. But that's not right. There's the whole rest of the alphabet."

She could always teach philosophy. I said, "Where do I come in, Kim?"

"Oh. Right."

I waited.

"I have this pimp."

"And he won't let you leave?"

"I haven't said anything to him. I think maybe he knows, but I haven't said anything and he hasn't said anything and—" Her whole upper body trembled for a moment, and small beads of perspiration glistened on her upper lip.

"You're afraid of him."

"How'd you guess?"

"Has he threatened you?"

"Not really."

"What does that mean?"

"He never threatened me. But I feel threatened."

"Have other girls tried to leave?"

"I don't know. I don't know much about his other girls. He's very different from other pimps. At least from the ones I know about."

They're all different. Just ask their girls. "How?" I asked her.

"He's more refined. Subdued."

Sure. "What's his name?"

"Chance."

"First name or last name?"

"It's all anybody ever calls him. I don't know if it's a first name or a last name. Maybe it's neither, maybe it's a nickname. People in the life, they'll have different names for different occasions."

"Is Kim your real name?"

She nodded. "But I had a street name. I had a pimp before Chance, his name was Duffy. Duffy Green, he called himself, but he was also Eugene Duffy and he had another name he used sometimes that I forget." She smiled at a memory. "I was so green when he turned me out. He didn't pick me up right off the bus but he might as well."

"He a black man?"

"Duffy? Sure. So is Chance. Duffy put me on the street.

TheLexington Avenue stroll, and sometimes when it was hot there we'd go across the river toLong IslandCity ." She closed her eyes for a moment.

When she opened them she said, "I just got this rush of memory, what it was like on the street. My street name was Bambi. InLong IslandCity we did the johns in their cars. They would drive in from all overLong Island . OnLexington we had a hotel we could use. I can't believe I used to do that, I used to live like that. God, I was green! I wasn't innocent. I knew what I came toNew York for, but I was green all right."

"How long were you on the street?"

"It must have been five, six months. I wasn't very good. I had the looks and I could, you know, perform, but I didn't have street smarts.

And a couple of times I had anxiety attacks and I couldn't function.

Duffy gave me stuff but all it ever did was make me sick."

"Stuff?"

"You know. Drugs."

"Right."

"Then he put me in this house, and that was better, but he didn't like it because he had less control that way. There was this big apartment nearColumbus Circle and I went to work there like you would go to an office. I was in the house, I don't know, maybe another six months. Just about that. And then I went with Chance."

"How did that happen?"

"I was with Duffy. We were at this bar. Not a pimp bar, a jazz club, and Chance came and sat at our table. We all three sat and talked, and then they left me at the table and went off and talked some more, and Duffy came back alone and said I was to go with Chance. I thought he meant I should do him, you know, like a trick, and I was pissed because this was supposed to be our evening together and why should I be working. See, I didn't take Chance for a pimp. Then he explained that I was going to be Chance's girl from now on. I felt like a car he just sold."

"Is that what he did? Did he sell you to Chance?"

"I don't know what he did. But I went with Chance and it was all right. It was better than with Duffy. He took me out of that house and put me on a phone and it's been, oh, three years now."

"And you want me to get you off the hook."

"Can you do it?"

"I don't know. Maybe you can do it yourself. Haven't you said anything to him? Hinted at it, talked about it, something like that?"

"I'm afraid."

"Of what?"

"That he'd kill me or mark me or something. Or that he'd talk me out of it." She leaned forward, put her port-tipped fingers on my wrist.

The gesture was clearly calculated but nonetheless effective for it. I breathed in her spicy scent and felt her sexual impact. I wasn't aroused and didn't want her but I could not be unaware of her sexual strength.

She said, "Can't you help me, Matt?" And, immediately, "Do you mind if I call you Matt?"

I had to laugh. "No," I said. "I don't mind."

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