A Learning Experience Ch. 06

"Here ya go darlin', drink up now, you look dehydrated," Jimmy said quietly.

After a few sips of water and some time to get my body acclimated, I was finally able to stand up on my feet. Jimmy was kind enough to guide me out to my room, he even brought my car over and parked it right out in front. I offered him the 10 spot from earlier, but he refused. These were the real McCoy as they say, once they said they were your friend, you could take it to the bank. He told me there was a Chinese take out place next door and explained the dishes he liked, then asked what I wanted, and I assumed that saying 'nothing' was not an option. I gave him my order for cashew chicken, rice, and a large soda. When he returned with the food, I asked what I owed him and he simply said, 'get better little lady', to which tears came flooding back once again. I thanked him profusely and told him I would be better by morning as he finally decided I was alright, and left my room.

I locked and bolted the door, devouring the food and beverage, even the fortune cookies. Can't remember what they said, but it was the usual nonsense. All I remember thinking, as I looked at the little white strips of paper was, whatever fortune I might receive in my future now, was 100% in my hands, and no one else's. This gave me an odd sense of power and control, something I never thought to have again.

I undressed and had a quick shower. I now checked my injured neck, and thought back to the insanity that made up this afternoon... I remembered feeling a hot burning feeling on my throat just as I realized my attacker had a knife and jumped backwards. He must have tried to put it up against my neck when I jumped. I hadn't seen the knife after he dropped it when I grabbed his hand and put him in that nerve pinch. It was probably covered in my blood, I just hadn't noticed.

It was amazing what adrenaline could do to overcome pain, I thought as I shook my head. I covered-up the scar again with the bandage, turned off the lights, set the alarm clock to go off at 6am and tucked myself into my bed for the night. I realized this might be the last night I could afford a comfortable bed. And that was when I also realized I had no more tears, my eyes were burning and had been rubbed raw. I turned on the light and remembered seeing a small packet of complementary aspirins in the bathroom, I took them with a glass of water, and barely remembered lying back down under the covers. That was when the only good thought I'd had came, nothing could be worse... nope, other than being invaded by aliens, tomorrow couldn't possibly be worse than this day had been, for this was most certainly the end of...

...one monumentally bad fucking day.

***

The alarm was a particularly loud and annoying buzzer type, and it was punctual in its performance, firing precisely at 6am. I was initially concerned as my eyes would not function well. Matted and unfocused, I tried to rub the matter away, and realized they were so sore that even touching them produced a high-pitched yelp.

I went to the bathroom and grabbed one of the washcloths hanging above the sink, getting it wet with the hottest water I could make come from the faucet. I then began applying hot compresses to my eyes, until the matter began to fall away and my eyes began to feel like the portals of sight I expected. Now that I had my eyesight, I re-dressed in the clothes I'd had on yesterday, and went out to my car's trunk, and began bringing things into the room and dumping it on the bed.

What I had put in the hidden compartment under the spare tire was brought in last, and only after careful looks in all directions. Then I closed the trunk and came back inside my room, once again bolting and chaining the door. In a canvas bag were my weapons. I was well armed with two large hunting knives, several throwing knives and darts, and my street prepped 9mm Beretta. All identifying markings were removed, the handle was taped, and I had built four fourteen round clips of ammo, set in a two to one configuration, one steel jacketed armor piercing, followed by two hollow points, always stopping at 12 rounds to keep the clip's springs from bottoming out. The trigger was modified to fire off in triplets, this pumped out a low velocity armor piercing round, followed by two high velocity hollow point rounds every time I pulled the trigger. This would defeat most types of body armor used at that time. One extra clip had a number of 'specials' loaded in it. Incendiary rounds, for tracing and marking my fire, interspersed with loud blanks, basically for when I needed to scare without harming anyone. Which at that time I wasn't interested in, if things got to the point where I needed this thing, it was gonna be loaded for bear. I began to strip it for cleaning.

Suddenly two loud knocks were coming from my door. I quickly gathered all the weapons back into their canvas sack, and hid it under a mattress. As I peeked through the tiny peek hole in the door, my blood turned to ice water. It was two local patrol officers, one a black female, and the other a black male. I unhooked the chain and opened the door.

"Good morning Ma'am" the male said, "My name is Officer Hutchinson, and this is my partner Officer Beaufort".

I somehow managed to nod my head, as I realized the weapon I'd just hidden in a very obvious place could send me to jail for quite a long time. The officer glanced at my wedding bands, then they both looked at each other and finally continued...

"Ahem... I'm told you were in a domestic dispute last night with your husband, and that you were injured in the altercation... is this true?"

"Oh," I finally replied, "No, I'm sorry officers, it was all just a misunderstanding. You see I just happened to get too close as he was putting his jacket back on, and the wrist buttons grazed my neck and opened up a scratch on my throat".

I pulled the bandage down a little to show them.

"You see?" I said lying through my teeth, "its almost completely healed."

Once again the two officers gave each other a knowing look and a shrug of the shoulders as he continued to say what seemed a well known line.

"Well, alright then ma'am," He said, "we're sorry to disturb you but we have to investigate these reports... you understand."

"Of course officer," I said as innocently as possible.

"Good morning then ma'am,"

"Thank you for your concern... goodbye!"

After closing and bolting my door once again I stood with my back ramrod straight up against it and stared at the ceiling, giving the largest sigh I'd ever produced. I then ran to the mattress and pulled out the canvas bag.

I once again pulled the pistol out, and started cleaning it. But then I could see images almost like movie clips fly through the back of my mind... of what might happen when I decided to use this beast. I could see the steel jacketed armor piercing shells using their high force and low velocity to pass through anything, concrete block walls, metal casings, refrigerators... my god.

Then coming in behind them, high velocity hollow points that would fragment into dozens of deadly projectiles. And suddenly, the nerdy little mind that had created this efficient killing machine... rebelled. It was now seeing unintended victims, women and children... daughters... I started slowly dissembling the 9mm Beretta, field stripping it just as Smitty had taught me and wrapping the parts in cosmoline saturated rags before storing them back in their canvas bag... I would have to find a very special place to store this genuine piece of nastiness. If used properly, it had the power to save my life where I was going. Used poorly, it could make me wish I'd never been born.

I started sorting through all the clothes I had been storing in my car, some was more 'appropriate' than others, and some needed ironing or steaming after being in my trunk for weeks. I used a couple of the dry cleaning plastic bags I found in my room to arrange my underwear and took a notepad and pen to quickly jot down what I actually had, and what I would need to beg, borrow or steal to complete my ensemble.

Now that my clothes were better organized, I took out the ad that I'd found yesterday as the construction worker interrupted me. It was for a self-storage garage that was looking for a part time mechanic to help other garage tenants with their car problems. Always a good way to find a little extra money.

With my fevered brain refreshed by sleep and rebooted by the shock of seeing those police officers so early in the morning, a dull ache returned in my chest. Melissa. I fell back on the bed, a silent scream forming on my lips, tears returning. I would have to tell her what had happened. I would have to tell her she needed to love someone... anyone... except me. Where I was headed she may not follow. I would first try to make her hate me, and if that failed, forget me. I already knew I could never forget her. I crawled over to the room's phone and called the motel front desk.

"Hello? This is room 17,"

"Yes... I know Carol, and I appreciate that you were worried, but I'm not going to go back there again,"

"Honey? I was wondering if I could make a collect call from here?"

"Yeah, thought I'd talk to my sister," I lied as she offered to place the call, "Oh... that's really nice of you... alright... I'll tap the receiver button, then dial... right?"

"Great. And thanks Carol... thanks for everything,"

She had insisted on placing a person to person call, apparently all I had to do was tap the receiver button once and dial Mel's number, so I did.

The hello that came over the earpiece was sullen and despondent. It took a couple seconds for me to recognize it as Mel's.

"Hello Melissa," I said softly.

The shriek that exploded on the other end of that phone nearly left my ear in shock, but I had a very dirty job to complete, and I was trying to think as though my heart were made of steel right then.

"Josie! Where are you, we'll come get you, just tell me where..."

"Mel! Listen to me, you have to get a hold of yourself and... just... listen,"

I gave myself a moment to get control back. I couldn't use my 'Dom' voice here, I wasn't trying to gain control over her... she needed to get control of herself.

"Melissa... I have no future... I have no past... and my present is simply a form of hell I could never allow myself to share with anyone,"

"Josie? What are you saying? Don't you love me any..."

"That's exactly what I'm saying. No, I... I am unable and unwilling to love anyone right now... that's,"

"Oh Josie... don't do this... you can live here... you,"

"I don't work like that... you know me better than anyone I've ever known, it can't work for me like that, and I don't know what my future holds... so,"

"I can't just forget you, I will love you always & forev..."

"It's over Melissa," I sighed as the tears that would have come simply made my eyes burn red hot and fiercely troubled, "Goodbye."

"God help me," I whispered to myself after hanging up, "Please my love... hate me... forget about me..."

This was where I'd placed myself, because I truly believed that this was where I belonged. The small act of kindness I received from Jimmy and Carol allowed much of my sanity to be saved that day, and while it wasn't obvious to me at the time, I came away with my feelings of paranoia lessened and my hope had oddly re-emerged.

I was dressed in my usual disguise once more, that of a teenaged male. Hiding my hormone enhanced breasts under an extra large Ace bandage and putting my washed blonde hair into a simple pony tail, I had left them the fifty bucks I'd 'earned' the previous day, and I simply disappeared. There were no words that would have adequately shown my appreciation, and certainly I could never tell them the whole truth of my situation as I knew better than to divulge my gender issues to strangers at this point in time. My link to humanity was broken and hemorrhaging badly, the people that had expressed friendship were now the strangers I felt needed avoiding, and I would now only seek out those who wanted to exploit my body.

I returned to that small motel in Conshohocken a few years later in hopes of finding Carol and Jimmy, and thanking them for saving my life, such as it was. But I still have not been able to locate them, wherever you are, Carol and Jimmy, thank you!

I managed to re-pack my trunk with all the clothes I owned, along with everything else, and left the small village of Conshohocken behind me. About an hour later, I answered the advertisement for a part time garage mechanic in Mantua, a small suburb, less than a quarter mile from Center City, that part of the city I felt so very close to.

The owner of the warehouse/garage seemed pleased with my knowledge of cars, especially my experience with American exotics like Corvettes, Shelby Cobras, and even the Ford/De Tomaso Pantera, which he just so happened to own. As part of the package I would be given a small room and bath in the back, attached to the last garage space, which would be where I would store the Chrysler. The warehouse was fairly remote, no one would probably notice me leave as either a female or male and think anything unusual of it... in short it was perfect... if I could make enough money to keep myself going.

***

After a few very slow summer days, I had become used to the routine of Mantua. The owner of the warehouse was Jeffery Rothschild, part of a well-to-do family on the main line, he enjoyed running on the wild side. From what I could tell, the second floor offices were used on the weekends for very high stakes poker games, and various other vices on weekdays. Much of the work I was asked to do was on cars I could only dream of owning, nothing wrong with that, but I had the distinct feeling I was being tested over those first days. And not just on my knowledge of cars.

I decided that I had other needs, besides getting involved with Jeff and his gambling vices, and tried to simply keep it a professional relationship. Every morning I would get up and walk over to the coffee shop on Haverford and get my breakfast, then get back by 8am to be ready for any car problems my early morning, work-a-day crowd would bring down to me. By noontime I was usually finished and would start my second life.

After a quick shower and shave, body shave of course, I would dress for the rest of my day in Center City. Today happened to be a typically hot and humid Philly day. So I dressed appropriately, white leather biker hot pants, with a pink patent leather belt, a tie-dyed belly shirt over a pink half cup bra, black fishnets and 4 inch white patent leather stripy high heels. My platinum hair was well past my shoulders by now, and I walked out the back entrance that absolutely nobody else used with a slight strut and bounce to make just enough men notice and made my way over to 30th street station where I caught the early afternoon commuter train across the river into Center City.

I had decided to keep my weapons in a for-rent storage locker at 30th street station, and ground off any identifying features of the locker key, in case I was arrested for some reason. The key was hidden in a shoe, just to keep it close, for when I finally felt I needed what was stored there. Between my paid room and board for the garage work, and my afternoon and evening forays into Center City to 'entice' gentleman clients with mid-day and evening 'quickies', I was surviving. But like most street walkers my drug supply was dwindling, and soon I would be hurting as they do. Only in my case the drugs were for my Hormone Replacement Therapy, and I would be needing estrogen and testosterone blockers, instead of cocaine, heroin or methamphetamines.

Getting off the commuter train at Suburban Station, I drew long hungry stares from the businessmen, and nasty side-glances from the businesswomen, and female shoppers. I walked past the courthouse for the city of brotherly love, with its new 'L.O.V.E' sculpture, and smiled as I sang this little paraphrased version of Emerson, Lake, and Palmer's 'Karn Evil 9' that I had sung the first time saw it.

"Welcome back my friends,"

"to the show that never ends,"

"Heaven's angels lose their spells,"

"...so welcome back to Hell!"