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"Well, I'm never going to do this again. I'm just going to get all my money and go home."
"Don't get all your money. The only thing that will happen is it will get lost or stolen. Take $10 for your folks and $5 for yourself. Save the rest. You can always get it later. You don't need to tell anybody how much money you made.
"Hey, I bet you made a lot, didn't you?" she asked, with some envy.
"Two hundred seventy dollars," Ruthie said quietly.
"I'm jealous," confessed Hilda.
But Ruthie mostly took Hilda's advice. She took $20--ten bucks for her mother, $5 for her sister, and $5 for herself. It was more money than anybody in her family had ever seen at one time.
I will never do this again, Ruthie thought as she boarded the jitney bus. I have enough money to last the rest of my life. She felt dirty, certain the other passengers could see she'd been fucking strangers all night. But they paid no attention to her.
Somehow she'd have to wash out the stain.
At least Mr. Robert was nice, she thought, half way through the trip. She tried to sleep, but couldn't.
At the end of the line she pulled herself together. I can't let my mother down. She realized that other folks couldn't see that she was an evil woman. She'd have to pretend that everything was normal. Hilda's advice was good--the less they knew, the better.
At home she gave her mother ten dollars and her sister five. They were overjoyed. Fortunately they didn't ask too many questions. Maybe they didn't want to know.
"How much money did you make?" asked her mother.
"Fifty dollars," said Ruthie, eyes downcast. Her mother believed her--it seemed like an ungodly sum.
"That's enough to support us for a month. You won't have to go back for a while."
Ruthie didn't tell them that she'd never go back.
That evening they served her dinner. And then she got to sleep--really sleep--in her own bed. The one she shared with her sister. And the next morning they let her sleep in. She didn't have to carry water. Instead they brought her breakfast in bed.
A week later Ruthie once more rode the jitney bus to Lagarde's Hotel & Spa. And as it turned out, she never had to go fetch water ever again.
- COMMENTS
Anonymousover 1 year agoRather a nasty little story, really. I'm not commenting on the author, but Jim Grinsted the character in the story seems to get off on humiliating women and ordering them around. Not nice at all.
As a piece of writing it's not great, but it's not bad and definitely a street ahead of most on this site. The writing made me give it 4 stars. The idea and the plot are no more than 3.
Crusader235almost 5 years agoJim, this story took me back to the fond memories of the LBFM's of South East Asia, Philippines, Okinawa, and Japan. As a young marine I fucked every one I could afford at my small pay scale. Loved them all, each one of those ladies was unique, and I remember them all. Thank you for this one. Five stars!
PS: Little Brown Fucking Machines, just in case readers don't know.
Elmer100almost 7 years agoUnfortunately, there are millions of poor women who have no choice but sell their body to survive. Interesting essay, keep up the good work. There has to be a sequel to the fourth story in this series.
Anonymousover 7 years agoyour choice for a close was good.
but consider this sentence:
" And as it turned out, she never had to go fetch water ever again."?
or
"As it turned out, she never fetched water again."
or
"She never had to fetch water again"
or
"Never to fetch water again"
"Now, others fetched the water"
"Now her sisters did the fetching".
etc.
Anonymousover 7 years agoToo much exposition about the mechanics of panty handling, etc. And the characters are still not nuanced enough, they are not revealed enough, and so are not as interesting as they could be. I still suggest you read "The Secret Sharer" and "The Scapegoat" see how Conrad and Du Maurier achieve their characterization skill.
It is not easy, I don't pretend that it is.
But still, you chose an interesting premise, and I think that speaks well for you. You will choose other interesting premises. Many writers don't.
Your writing can improve a lot. That's sincerely meant as a compliment. Many writers will not improve. You will, I think, if you want to and have the time and inclination to work at it. You may not, and of course that's fine too, life is so short, there are so many things to do! Good luck to you.
