1. 2 girls, 1 cup...and go
and
2. A hooker walks into a barn...
Gotta love my friends! Anyways.. I took it, and this is what I came up with. No, it will probably never be finished, or edited, or reworked, so take it for what it is! hehehe.
Two Girls, One Cup, and a Barn...
Cindy walked down the side of the slick asphalt. The road was old, and looked as though it hadn’t been maintained in quite some time. Puddles filled the pockets of potholes and pits as the rain drenched down. She swore loudly as she tripped over yet another branch in the soggy ditch that ran alongside the road. It was dark and she was not familiar with this area of town. She shivered and pulled the worthless shirt tighter around her. At least she’d been able to get that from him.
Her latest trick had been sweet at first. He had pulled up in his shoddy little sedan and rolled down the window. He had seemed to almost reconsider as she sauntered up to the passenger door. Just a boy, he couldn’t have been more than 18 or 19 years old. His thin blonde hair hung down to his ears, partly covering his left eye. She couldn’t make out the color of his eyes in the shadow. His shy smile as she asked him if he wanted a “date” for the night, the blush in his cheeks when he nodded and she climbed inside. She had asked him if he wanted to go park somewhere or maybe hit up a little hotel she knew. She had an agreement with the manager there, and he turned a blind eye to her various roommates. He had shook his head and told her he would be more comfortable if he could take her to his house. She asked where it was, and he told her it was a ways out. She told him it would be extra, and he would have to bring her back.
“Well, but of course.” He had said, looking at her as if rejected that she thought he wouldn’t already know that. He dug into his wallet and prepaid.
They had driven for a while, the windshield wipers screeching against the windowpane. He hadn’t said a word, just kept looking over at her, staring more at her legs then he did the road. She watched as the businesses turned to residential, and then even those petered out as he continued on into the outskirts of town. She had asked his name, and he had shaken his head. She reminded him he’d have to bring her back to the city if he took her too far out, and he just nodded. Eventually she stopped trying to make small talk, taking him for an overly shy guy who was trying to get his first time out of the way. She watched as the trees began to grow thicker together, and finding homes nestled among them was just about impossible.
Just as she was starting to worry about the distance, he flipped on his blinker and took a right hand turn into an almost hidden road. It was narrow, but it was paved. Trees lined either side. The headlights shone weakly ahead, but showed more of nothing.
“You know, if this was a scary movie, I should be jumping out of the car by now.” She said to him, half-jokingly.
He turned to her and laughed. It lightened up his face, and put her at ease.
“It isn’t much farther.” He said. “I know it’s a ways out, but it’s a nice place. Don’t worry; I’ll take you back… afterwards.”
A few minutes later he turned onto a wide dirt driveway. It opened onto a big ranch style rambler with a large porch overlooking a vast front yard, complete with swing set and white picket fence. Beyond, the trees had been cleared, and she could make out what appeared to be a very large yard in back. Farming territory.
“A farm boy, eh?” She raised an eyebrow at the swing set, and the cozy, yellow light coming from the front window. “Am I meeting the family?” She asked him.
Again, he chuckled. “It’s just me here.” He told her. She raised another questioning eyebrow, but didn’t push the issue. As long as she got paid, she didn’t care.
Mr. Shy Boy wasn’t so shy once he got onto his turf, though. After going inside, she had started to walk around, checking out the house. It wasn’t often she got to peek inside of real homes like this. Usually it was night after night of shoddy hotel rooms, backseats, or the rancid apartments of dirty men. This was a real house, with a real history. Photos lined the walls- a cute family. Dad, mom, two boys and a little girl. She could see that her “date” was the middle boy. The furniture suggested someone had an eye for interior design. A large, stone fireplace stood center stage in the living room, adorned with more photos, vases, and trinket boxes. She turned to compliment him on his house, when he grabbed her. He shoved her down onto the couch. She began to struggle, confused at the sudden turn in behavior. He ripped her shirt open, the buttons bouncing off the hardwood floor beneath them.
“Woah, dude!” she said, trying to push him off a bit. “You can’t just rip my clothes! I have to wear them again.”
“Shut up.” He growled, pushing her back down.
He only got more violent afterwards. He had used her for a few hours, doing everything he’d ever heard about. He had finally fallen gotten up, threw more money at her, and told her to get out.
“You have to take me back!” she had cried. Blood seeped from between her legs. She ached inside. She ached all over.
“Just get out.” He said.
“You tore all of my clothes.” She said, deflated.
He went into a nearby room, and came back with a thin flannel shirt. Red and black checked. Farm boy cliché. He threw it at her.
“Get out.”
She slowly stood, angry but scared. Something in his eyes told her to not fight, but just get the hell out before he decided to get rid of her himself. There was a lot of land back there. A lot of dirt to bury a body under. She put the shirt on and showed herself out. She looked back as she reached the driveway. From here, it was still just a beautiful house. The warm light still spilled out the front window, lighting the front porch. The rain had started to fall then. Lightly at first, but eventually coming down in big, heavy drops.
“Of course.” She thought to herself, and began the trek back.
She tried to shake it all from her head as she trod down the small, paved road they had driven down a few hours earlier. She turned left when she hit the main road, and hoped she’d be able to remember all the turns back into town when she got closer in. More so, she hoped that maybe a car would drive by and pick her up. She laughed at that thought... Realizing the silliness of it. That is what had gotten her into this mess in the first place.
But all the girls had a story like this, right? She was due, and to be honest, she’d gotten off a lot easier than some of the other stories she’d heard.
She let her thoughts wander to the beat of one foot following the other, trying to keep her mind of the biting cold and the numbness that was starting to spread throughout her body. She had begun to tremble, and it was throwing her a bit off balance. She kept hoping to hear the sound of tires on wet pavement, the sweet roar of an engine. She wondered what she would do if Mr. Not-so-shy Boy were to be the one behind the wheel. Would she take the ride?
These and other various thoughts wandering through her head almost caused her to miss the driveway. It wasn’t very obvious, just grasses that had been pressed down, and an obvious tire groove cut into it. It hooked around a bend. She stooped and stared at the driveway. Perhaps there was a house back there. Maybe she could use a phone and call a cab. She had the money he had given her (and the money he had thrown at her afterwards) wadded in the front pocket of the shirt. She could even give them some for the trouble of helping her.
But they could also be worse than Mr. Not-So-Nice.
She trembled violently, and her insides stabbed with fiery points. She decided to take a small look around the corner and see what she saw. Pulling the shirt tighter, she followed the grooves in the matted grass around the corner. Instead of a house, like she expected, she saw a barn. A weak light flickered from the slats of the front. She could see a truck parked along the side. It looked like a newer model, though she couldn’t make out what kind. She snuck slowly up to the front, glancing around to see if there was anyone outside. The doors were shut, but the boards were placed wide, and she could peek inside. She peered through, and was surprised by what she saw. She had expected a man. Another farm boy.
Instead, kneeling in front of a small fire was a girl. She wore jeans, and a worn black tank top. Her honey brown hair was pulled back into a loose pony tail, a few wisps fallen free and down her cheek. She was warming her hands in the heat of the flames. Cindy pulled back, trying to see where the smoke from the flames was going. Because of the wide placing of the wood, the smoke trickled out from all over, so it hadn’t been apparent. Cindy put her eye back to the board. She enviously eyed the fire. She could almost feel the warmth from here. The girl moved, and Cindy saw she had a thermos and a cup. She poured a steaming liquid into the cup and sipped. Cindy licked her lips. She hadn’t noticed how thirsty she was until seeing that.
The thirst clenched her decision. She rapped upon the door and opened it. The girl looked up quick, caught like a deer in the headlights. She had paused mid- cup raise. It sat halfway to her mouth, the steam causing ripples in front of her face. Cindy came in and shut the door behind her. She pulled the shirt closer to her and looked at the piles of straw that had been studiously moved to the sides of the barn. She glanced at the fire, and the thermos, and then up at the girl.
“Hi.” She managed weakly. Her legs gave out on her then. She was exhausted, and she slid down the front of the door.
The girl put the cup to the side and jumped up. She came to Cindy’s side and helped her over to a pile of straw that had been worked into a makeshift seating area, a safe but comfortable distance from the fire. She went around to the dark back part of the barn, and emerged with a blanket that looked to be a patchwork of other materials sewn together. Cindy watched gratefully as the woman removed her wet shirt, and wrapped her in the blanket. She held the blanket to her face, glorified in its comfort. As she did so, she noticed that it was really a superb work of art.
The girl brought over the cup of steaming liquid. She helped Cindy support the cup to her lips, and she took small sips. Some kind of tea deliciously burned her mouth, and warmed her down her chest and into her stomach. She looked at the woman with wet eyes.
“I’m Cindy.” She said to her. “Thank you so much.”
The woman sat back on her heals and eyed her. Cindy noticed that the woman had deep brown eyes. They reminded her of a deer. Perhaps that is why she looked so much like the deer caught in headlights earlier.
“I’m Rachel.” The woman said. “What happened to you?”
Cindy and Rachel shared the one cup and drank the tea while Cindy shared her story of what the night had held for her. Rachel told her that she had been homeless since her boyfriend had been murdered, and she couldn’t handle it. She had the truck, and had been living out of it, until she had come across this old, unused barn. Now she used it as a home until she could get back on her feet.
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