Calling Maggie May

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Calling Maggie May Page 13

by AnonYMous

I am trying very hard to be good, but it really sucks being on lockdown. My parents are sticking to their plan of not letting me go anywhere or do anything except for schoolwork. I’m so far behind in everything. I’ve missed so much. As overwhelmed as I used to feel by school, it’s ten times worse now.

  And it’s not just the work. Back at the beginning of the year, I thought I knew what it meant to be invisible. I felt like a loser, an outcast, like no one really noticed me. I didn’t know how good I had it back then. I had my regular table at lunch and I was in all those activities—no matter how I felt, I was part of the fabric of the school.

  That’s all gone now. I’m embarrassed to talk to my old friends, and they don’t really seem to miss me. And Ada hasn’t been coming to school, so other than answering the occasional question in class, I basically don’t talk to or interact with anyone all day long. I’m like a ghost, haunting the halls of the high school.

  There is something comforting in the ritual of it, though. I mean, as bad as it is, at least I don’t have to worry about people assaulting me or making me do drugs I don’t want. It’s boring and frustrating, but it’s not so scary. Scary was exciting at first, but I think I had enough. I’m still having nightmares about that last client.

  I’m starting to get worried about Ada, too. I haven’t heard from her in almost a week. I know she told me to throw Miss Irma’s phone in the ocean, and I was going to sneak out of school and do it the other day, but I decided not to. What if Ada tries to contact me on it? She has my other number, but if she’s in trouble, she might not have a chance to try both numbers, and if there is any chance she might try to reach me through Irma’s phone, well, I’d never forgive myself if I wasn’t there for her when she needed me.

  It does make me nervous when I see it in my purse, but so far Irma hasn’t contacted me on it since our last meeting, and that suits me just fine.

  Mon, March 2, later

  I convinced my parents to let me start swimming again! Not with the team. I don’t know if I even want that anymore, but I really miss having something to do that was just for me. One thing in my life where I don’t have to do what people tell me or care what they want. When I’m swimming, it’s just me and the water.

  I told them that my body was going to atrophy if they kept me locked up all the time, so they finally decided that I could go to the YMCA pool in the evenings. Only an hour, though, so it won’t interfere with my homework. And they’ll drop me off and pick me up. That’s what they say, anyway. I know they’re really afraid of me sneaking off.

  I’m so excited to get back in the water again!

  Fri, March 6

  I feel gross.

  I don’t know what to do. I need to talk to someone, but who? I wish I could talk to Ada, but I still can’t get in touch with her.

  I thought things were supposed to be okay now. I thought if I just stuck to my parents’ plan and behaved myself and did everything they told me to, I’d be safe and I’d never have to deal with the scary situations that hooking put me in. But it’s like I can’t go back to who I was. I should explain what happened. Maybe that will help me calm down.

  I’ve been going to the pool every day all week now. It was nice. It didn’t make everything better, but for an hour a day, at least I knew no one would be telling me what to do or hassling me or expecting stuff from me. That’s what I thought, anyway.

  So today I was doing some laps, not even trying for speed or perfect form or anything, just enjoying the feel of the water on my skin. And it was just a bit before closing, so I had the whole pool to myself. I was vaguely aware that there was someone standing nearby, but I didn’t really pay attention, because I was off in my own little blue world. Soon I noticed the person had gotten in the water and was swimming next to me. He was really good, matching me easily, stroke for stroke, which is unusual given that most people at this pool are old folks or little kids.

  So I stopped when I finished my lap and I looked up, and guess who it was.

  Tyler Adams.

  I wasn’t expecting that at all. I felt like someone had just knocked the wind out of me. And even weirder than running into him at the pool was that he was actually looking at me and smiling, as if he knew who I was. Which was weird but sort of . . . nice, after everything that happened. These past couple of weeks I’ve been so isolated and alone, not speaking to anyone except my parents and everyone at school looking through me like I’m invisible. It felt nice to have someone treat me like I’m human.

  And I couldn’t help remembering how I used to feel about him. It’s not like I could just instantly go back to that little-girl crush, not after everything I’ve been through, but there’s no denying how good Tyler looks. A lot better-looking than the men I’m used to being with these days.

  So we got to talking. I worried it would be superawkward and I would act like an idiot, just like I used to, but I guess at least one positive side effect of my recent career is I am less tongue-tied around boys. We talked about the swim team a bit and how they were doing, and I gave him a lame excuse for why I wasn’t swimming with them anymore. Eventually I was like, “I better hit the shower. My ride will be here soon.” And he put a hand on my arm and said, “Don’t. Not yet.” And he gave me this smile. I’ve seen him give that smile to other girls, but I never dreamed he would use it on me.

  I admit, I melted a little. I stayed in the pool, and when he ducked into my lane and pressed up close to me, I didn’t stop him. It was late, but the water was warm and the lights were glowing and it was almost romantic. And then he pulled in closer and started kissing me.

  I was surprised, but too turned-on to really think too much about it. All that was going through my head was, I wonder if it can really be this easy. Tyler wasn’t a client, and he wasn’t twice my age or more, and he wasn’t paunchy or bald. He’s just a cute boy my age who likes me and wants to kiss me. And maybe I deserve that, after all I’ve been through. Maybe that would be the perfect antidote to all the gross stuff I’ve had to do for the past few months. Maybe I can just be with Tyler and be normal and happy, and it can all be uncomplicated.

  That was what I was thinking until he stopped kissing me and started whispering in my ear. At first it was nice things, or nice enough. He was telling me how sexy I was and how much he wanted to touch me. He was moving pretty fast, I know, but the truth is, I wanted to touch him too.

  But then he started saying other things like, “I bet you know all kinds of tricks. I bet you could make it good.” I didn’t know what he was talking about, but I started to feel uncomfortable. He was pressed all up against me now, and he said, “Why don’t you show me what you know?”

  So I was like, “What do you mean?”

  “Don’t play coy,” he said. “I know what you are. I saw you hanging around with Ada Culver. You’re like her, aren’t you? You used to be a little nerd, but she made you a whore just like her.”

  I didn’t like that. I didn’t like him talking about Ada that way, so I stopped kissing and touching him and tried to wriggle away, but he had me pressed pretty firmly against the wall of the pool with his arms around me like a cage.

  “Come on,” he said in a whisper. “Don’t try to act like you’re some virgin.” His lips were moving against my ear, and I could feel him pressed up between my legs. And he started whispering to me about Ada, how he had found out about her. He told me his uncle was one of her clients, and he had told Tyler all about her one day when he was drunk.

  “My uncle’s a real sleazebag,” he said. “He told me all the things he did with Ada, all the things he made her do to him. Why don’t you show me what she taught you? I can pay, if you want. Then you’ll be my little whore to do whatever I want with.”

  For a while I was just frozen, listening to him whisper those horrible words in my ear. I didn’t know what to think. I felt like such an idiot, like I had been so naive. For so long I’d let my
self believe I was living in two different worlds . . . that I had these two identities, but they were totally separate. On one hand, I was a highly paid call girl. On the other, I was an ordinary high school student, unpopular but high achieving. But that was a mistake, or a lie, because it was only one life all along. The same stinking life.

  If Tyler knows about me, how many other people know? How many has he told? How many will he tell? What happens when Jenny and Eiko and John find out? What about the teachers? And my parents?

  Finally I came back to myself and shoved Tyler away from me. He let me go without a fight, but his smug laughter echoed through the empty hall as I dragged myself out of the water.

  Since then I have showered and toweled off and returned home and crawled into bed, but somehow I still can’t stop shivering. What do I do now? Throughout this whole thing, I’ve always believed that there was a safety net. If I wanted to, I could pretend this was all a bad dream and just go back to the ordinary life I had before. But that’s not possible anymore. Tyler had called me a dirty little whore. What’s the point in getting offended? It was true. These aren’t just words. This is who I am.

  Sat, March 7

  My phone is ringing. The pink phone.

  It’s like everything I have tried to do to walk away from that existence is falling apart around me. First that horrible experience with Tyler, so I don’t even feel safe in the water anymore. I told my parents I don’t want to go back to the pool again, and of course they are confused since I bargained so hard for this. Why don’t I want it all of a sudden? And what can I say to them? But what does it matter even? They are going to find out all about me soon anyway. Now that Tyler knows, it’s only a matter of time.

  And now Irma’s phone is ringing. And it’s not Ada.

  I don’t understand it because usually when they want to set up a date, I get a text from Anne, or sometimes from Irma. And only if I ignore that, then they’ll call. But there was no text this time, just a ringing phone. Even though I haven’t heard from Ada in more than a week, I remember her last words to me. I remember how she told me not to talk to Irma ever again, to quit, to ignore all her attempts to contact me, to throw the phone into the bay.

  So I won’t answer. They called back three times in twenty minutes, but now it’s been two hours with no calls, so maybe I am off the hook.

  Sat, March 7, later

  Phone is ringing again. I’m just staring at it, not answering. I mean, for all they know, I could have thrown it into the bay. I don’t have to answer it.

  It’s weird, though. . . . Somehow, every time it rings, I feel like Miss Irma can see me.

  Mon, March 9

  They found me. I guess it didn’t matter that I didn’t answer the phone, because they just found another way to get to me. Now I’m in a mess, but maybe I can help Ada at least.

  The phone kept ringing yesterday, and this morning while I was in school. It was getting more and more frequent, but I kept ignoring it.

  Then, after school today, I was walking toward the buses and I happened to glance over to where Miss Irma’s cars used to pick up me and Ada to take us to our dates. And there it was: Irma’s car. At the sight of it, I sort of froze and stared. I certainly didn’t have a date scheduled, and Ada hadn’t been on the school grounds in almost two weeks, so who was it there for? I wondered if someone else at the school had started hooking. Maybe one of the younger kids. But some part of me knew that was not what was going on. I just had this dark sense, like something bad was about to happen, and all I could think to do was get away. I put my head down and forced myself to keep walking toward the buses, but I didn’t make it more than a few steps before I heard someone call my name. More on instinct than by choice, I stopped and turned.

  It was a big, solidly built man. Definitely not someone usually on the school grounds, but he looked strangely familiar. He said my name again, and that’s when it clicked into place—I’d seen him at the Valentine’s party. He was one of Miss Irma’s security force. The people Ada had referred to as “goons.” The people Ada had warned me about.

  “You better come with me,” said the man.

  My feet felt frozen to the pavement. Everything in my body was screaming at me to get away from this situation. As long as I was here at the school, this crowd of students swarming around me, there wasn’t much this man could do to me. Following him into that car, I’d be putting myself at risk. Of what, I wasn’t sure. I couldn’t think of anything Miss Irma would want to do to me, or why, but I couldn’t ignore Ada’s warning. Something had scared her, and that was enough to scare me.

  Again he asked me to come with him. Calmly, quietly, but with just a hint of a threat.

  I wanted to tell him no, but I couldn’t find the words, so I just shook my head and turned away, back toward the buses. Then I heard his voice again.

  “It’s about Ada.”

  I turned around. “Is she all right?”

  “I think you’d better come with me.”

  So I went. What choice did I have? Yes, it was risky and scary and I had no clue what I was getting myself into, but if there was any chance of finding out what happened to Ada, of helping her if she was in trouble, there was no way I was going to refuse that.

  Once at the downtown office, Anne met me and showed me in to Miss Irma.

  “I’m so glad you came,” she said. “I got worried when you ignored my messages.”

  “I’m sorry about that,” I said. “I can return the phone. I’ve . . . I’ve decided to get out of the business.”

  Irma looked slightly surprised. “Of course,” she said. “You are free to leave anytime you want, as I said. But maybe you should keep the phone for now.” That sounded a bit ominous. “It is inconvenient when people lose track of their phones,” Irma went on. “You know I worry about my employees. I like to check on them, make sure they are okay. I’m very worried about Ada, because she doesn’t answer her phone this past week. But perhaps you can tell me where she is.”

  My heart sank. I had hoped Irma would tell me where Ada was.

  “I don’t know anything about Ada,” I said. “I haven’t heard from her in a while.”

  “I see,” said Irma. “Are you sure, though? Think hard.”

  What could I say or do to convince Miss Irma I had even less information than she did? When I didn’t answer right away, Miss Irma changed her tack.

  “Don’t play dumb. You’re in this together.”

  That had me confused.

  “In what?” I said.

  “I am not unreasonable,” Irma went on. “I’m not some violent gangster. I’m a businesswoman. I respect free enterprise. I admire Ada’s ambition to go into business for herself. We all have to start somewhere. But one thing I do not accept is poaching clients. Damon is my client, not yours. You girls think you are the attraction, but you are easily replaced. I earned my cut of your little scheme, and I want it.”

  So that’s what this was about: Damon. I should have guessed. But how did she find out? Of course, my big mouth at the Valentine’s party. She could have heard me, or anyone there could have blabbed to her. So this really was all my fault, then.

  “We didn’t earn anything,” I rushed to explain to Irma. “It wasn’t like that. I swear. It was a freebie. Ada was just setting a couple of friends up on a date. We didn’t charge him.”

  I only realized once the words left my mouth how unlikely my story sounded, even though it was true. The look on Miss Irma’s face showed that she was thinking the same thing.

  “Really?” she said with more than a hint of sarcasm. “A whore and her virgin friend seduce a rich young client and no money changed hands?” Miss Irma shook her head. “Maybe an innocent idiot like you could wander into this situation by accident, but Ada is not so stupid. She knows very well the price of a virgin. She’s far too clever to let that slide, even for a friend.”
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br />   “I promise you it’s true,” I said a little desperately. “There was no money.”

  “Save your pleas,” she said with an airy wave of the hand. “It doesn’t matter one way or the other. It’s not my fault if you were too stupid to charge him. I’m still owed the money I should have gotten. Ada owes me a debt and she ran out on it, so now you owe me a debt. Either pay me, or find Ada for me so she can pay me. Your choice.”

  So that was it. That was why Ada wasn’t returning my calls. But that meant that if I could solve this problem, if I could settle her debt, she could come back.

  I asked Miss Irma how much it was. When I heard the amount, I had a moment of relief combined with hopelessness. I have it . . . or almost. It’s just a little bit more than I have saved for the apartment I was going to get with Ada. But handing it over to Miss Irma means the death of that fantasy, once and for all.

  Well, since Ada’s not speaking to me, I guess it was pretty much dead anyway.

  I told Miss Irma I could get her the money. She looked surprised, and more than a little suspicious.

  “You can? When?”

  “I can pay you now,” I said. “Or tomorrow,” I corrected myself. “I just need to run home and get it.”

  Irma looked at me closely.

  “You’ve been saving your pennies,” she observed. I didn’t say anything. “I underestimated you,” she went on. “You’re not as stupid as I thought, though you should pick your friends more carefully in the future. You can save all the money in the world, but it won’t be any good if your friends skip town and leave you with their debts.”

  My face burned at the insult, but I tried to stay focused. “Ada skipped town?” This was the information I had come for

  Miss Irma shrugged delicately. “As far as I know. My people have searched the whole city for her. If you think you know where she might be, by all means, hunt her down. As long as I get my money, it’s all the same to me.”

 

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