by AnonYMous
I have an appointment to drop off the necessary cash at Miss Irma’s office in just under twenty-four hours. I’ve pulled my little savings from under my bed and counted it all out on the covers. I’m almost there but not quite. I hate to do this, but I think I’m going to have to sneak some bills out of my mom’s mah-jongg jar. I know it’s wrong, but I don’t even know what Miss Irma’s goons might do to me or Ada if I don’t pay up. And I don’t really want to find out.
Can I really do this? I have the money, but it’s every last bit I saved. All my dreams for the future and all my hopes of escaping this awful life. What do I do after this? Go back to Miss Irma and start taking dates again, try to build it back up? But what’s the point, with Ada gone? Without the money and without her, I don’t even know what my dream is anymore.
Can it really be that what Miss Irma said is true? That Ada abandoned me to deal with this debt on my own, so she wouldn’t have to? Of course, she did warn me not to talk to Miss Irma ever again. I guess she was hoping I could just avoid the problem and slip quietly back into my old life. But she must have known Miss Irma’s goons would come after me. Why didn’t she just come to me? If she had told me the situation, we could have fixed it together.
I called and texted her to let her know that I am paying her debt and that she’s in the clear, but I just keep getting voice mail. I don’t understand why she doesn’t respond.
This is driving me crazy. I have to know what happened to her. I’m sure Miss Irma’s goons have already checked Ada’s house, but maybe her mom will be able to tell me something. It can’t hurt to ask.
Mon, March 9, later
I’m at Ada’s house. It was stupid to come here. I don’t know what I expected to learn. Obviously Ada wasn’t going to just be sitting here, watching TV. And if I was hoping her mom would be able to give me some clues, it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen.
When I got here, it was almost eerie how normal the place looked. Just sitting there in the gathering shadows of dusk, like all the other houses on the streets. The lights were on, giving it a cozy glow, and the twilight hid the shabbiness and disrepair of the place. I knocked on the door and waited a bit but didn’t hear anything. I started to wonder if Ada’s mom could have gone out and left all the lights on. I was about to give up and walk away when I heard a sound from inside the house. I held my breath and listened. Someone was definitely inside. Heart hammering, I raised my hand to knock once more, but just then I heard another sound, this time much closer. A door latch.
The door opened, but only a crack. The chain was still done up, preventing the door from opening more than a couple of inches. Behind it stood a haggard, anxious-eyed woman who I assumed to be Ada’s mother.
“Hi!” I said brightly, trying to seem as nonthreatening as possible. “I’m a friend of Ada’s. I used to come by and visit sometimes, but I don’t think we ever met.”
Ada’s mom didn’t say anything, but her eyes slid up and down my body, drawing in every detail. I couldn’t tell if I was winning her over.
“I was just wondering if . . .” I hesitated. How much did Ada’s mom know? How much should I give away, and how much should I hold back? I decided to keep it simple for now. “Do you know where she is?”
“Do you know where she is?” she said in a cracked, wavering voice.
I shifted uncomfortably. I honestly couldn’t tell if she was asking me about Ada’s whereabouts or just repeating what I said, as if she barely spoke the language but was trying out the sounds.
“No,” I answered at last, trying to keep my voice calm and neutral. “I don’t know, but I am looking for her. Do you remember when you last saw her? Do you know how to get in touch with her?”
“You’re not one of them, are you?” she said. “You don’t seem like one of them. Unless you’re trying to trick me.”
“One of who?” I wondered if she’d had some run-in with Miss Irma’s goons. That might explain some of her behavior. “Have people been here, looking for Ada? Other people?”
“I think they got her,” she said, leaning forward to whisper conspiratorially. “They were looking for her and then they must have come and taken her away.”
“Taken her away?” I said. “Who took her away? When? What did they look like?”
I didn’t want to stress her out or put too much pressure on her clearly fragile psyche, but I had to know what she had seen. I was feeling frantic. Was she talking about Miss Irma’s goons? But if they had come and taken Ada away, why would they ask me where she is? Who else would be looking for Ada? Who would take her away? The police? Or was it possible that she was mixed up in something else?
“Please,” I said. “Try to remember. Who took her away? If you remember anything at all . . .”
The woman shook her head. “You should stay away, if you know what’s good for you. It’s dangerous here.”
“Dangerous?”
“We’re being watched,” she whispered hoarsely. “You have to act normal because they are always watching.”
“Who is watching? The people who took Ada?” Instinctively, I jerked my head around to look up and down the street, but everything looked normal.
“She might be working for them. I didn’t want to believe it either, not at first, but I don’t think I can trust her.”
She had figured out Ada was working for Miss Irma, then. That made some sense, even if she was confused about the details.
“Did she tell you where she was going?”
“She went with them, or they took her, or she is spying on me for them. I don’t think I can trust her. She was always watching me, but I don’t think it’s her fault. They got to her.”
“Who got to her?” I asked, growing desperate for any real information.
“Tom,” said the woman in an anxious whisper.
“Tom?” I repeated. “Tom who?”
“He got to her, just like he got to Katie. Tom and Angelina and Miley. They’re planning something. It’s got something to do with me, but I don’t know what yet. I tried to get Ada to help, but she was working for them already, watching me and reporting to them. I used to follow their messages to each other on the Internet, but then I realized they could see me too, so I had to stop. I turned it off, but that made them angry. That’s when they got to Ada.”
With a sick feeling in my stomach, I suddenly remembered all the celebrity gossip magazines I had noticed when I had visited Ada in the past. It was impossible to tell how much of my conversation with Ada’s mom had been based in fact and how much based in her paranoid delusions. Ada had told me that her mom had “episodes,” and she had hinted that they were getting worse. It seemed as though she was in the middle of a bad one.
I wondered if that was part of why Ada had left. Maybe even more than her debt to Miss Irma. If her mom had turned on her, had decided that Ada was part of some master conspiracy against her, that could be pretty hard to live with.
In any case, it was becoming pretty clear that I wasn’t going to get any solid information out of Ada’s mom, and the longer I talked to her, the more I risked her slotting me in with whoever else might be out to “get” her. I thanked her for her time and let her close the door. Now I’m sitting on the garden wall under a streetlamp, trying to decide what to do next. I guess this is a dead end, like I thought it would be. I’ll try texting Ada one more time, letting her know I’m here. If she ever does check her messages, she’ll at least know I cared enough to look.
That’s weird. Something just caught my eye. Now I’m not even sure if I really saw anything, or if Ada’s mom’s delusions have gone to my head, but I could have sworn I saw a flash of light from that window. The window to Ada’s bedroom. It’s the only room in the house with no light on, but it looks like something flickered in there. Would it be crazy if I crept over there and peeked in the window?
Mon, March 9, later
/> Wow. That was the craziest thing I’ve ever done. Well, other than getting paid to have sex with strangers. Maybe my life is so weird now, I’ve lost all sense of proportion.
I went over to Ada’s window after I saw that flash and I peered in, but it was all dark in there and I could barely make anything out. I don’t even know exactly what I was expecting to see, but it definitely didn’t look like Ada was in there. I was about to give up and go back home, but I couldn’t stop turning the question over in my mind. What had I seen flash in there? Was it just my imagination? What would give off that kind of blue light?
Then I noticed the light again, but this time it wasn’t coming from Ada’s room. It was coming from my purse. It was my phone lighting up as a text came through. My parents, wanting to know where the hell I was. My first thought was panic that they had noticed I was gone too long, but before I could think too much about that, I realized something else. The flash of light I had seen had to be Ada’s phone!
I tried Ada’s phone again, calling this time. Sure enough, a blueish light came on, illuminating Ada’s room dimly as I listened to the ringtone. So Ada had abandoned her phone at home, which meant all my messages had gone unread. I felt my heart sink a little at this realization, but then another thought occurred to me. If I had Ada’s phone, it might give me another clue as to where she was hiding.
Not really dreaming it would work, I gave the window a little shove and it moved. Ada must have left it unlocked. I checked around, looking up and down the street, my heart beating wildly at what I was about to do. But everything seemed quiet. As silently as possible, I slid the window up and hoisted myself up and inside. I gave a quick look around for any other possible clues, but I didn’t want to stick around too long and risk getting caught by Ada’s mom, so I just grabbed the phone and got out of there.
Now I’m on a bus headed back home and not totally sure what to do with my trophy. I thought it might be useful to see who Ada had spoken to last, but the last calls in her logs were me and Miss Irma. No new information there. Should I just start calling random people from her address book? I don’t know if that might make things better or worse.
Jen’s number is in here. At least I kind of know her. I’m not sure what she could possibly know that would be a help at this point, but it’s worth a shot.
Mon, March 9, later
I texted Jen twice and called once, but she’s not responding. Why doesn’t anyone pick up their phones? What do I do? Do I give up?
I’m almost home now, but the minute I walk in the door, my parents are going to start talking about sending me away. How can I let them do that when Ada is so clearly in trouble? I’ve got to do something.
Should I try another number? Or Jen’s address is in here. I suppose I could go over there. Maybe she’ll be more willing to talk to me face-to-face.
Mon, March 9, later
That didn’t go exactly as planned, but at least I have a new direction now.
I made my way over to South Downtown and found my way to Jen’s place through a maze of old abandoned warehouses. When I found the building, it had a roll-up door, and I wondered if the owners even knew it was being used as living space. I banged on the door for a while until finally Jen’s roommate, Beth, came down. I asked if Jen was there, but Beth just said, “Nope.”
“Do you know when she’ll be back?”
“Nope.”
I was getting frustrated.
“Can I come in and wait for her, then? I really need to talk to her.”
“You could be waiting a while,” said Beth, lounging calmly in the doorway. “Jen’s in jail. She got picked up last night.”
I have to admit, that was the last thing I was expecting.
“For what?” I asked.
Beth laughed. “What do you think? Or were you unaware that your chosen profession is illegal? This could happen to any of us.”
“Sure,” I said, “but we’re not streetwalkers. And Irma . . .”
“Irma only protects people as long as they’re useful to her,” Beth said, her voice hard. “Irma kicked Jen off the payroll two weeks ago because of her drug problem, so she started posting ads for her services online. One of the clients she got was a setup. They had sex, she asks for her money, and the guy whips out a badge instead.”
“A cop would really do that?”
“You watch too much TV,” she said. “Not all cops are heroes.”
“Will she go to prison?”
“At sixteen?” said Beth. “Not likely. Probably she’ll have to go to juvie, or she’ll get stuck in the social services system or something. Either way, it will be a pain in the ass. What really sucks is how am I going to make rent without a roommate?”
At this point, I was almost on the point of crying from frustration and worry. I leaned against the doorframe with all the fight gone out of me.
Beth narrowed her eyes. “What do you want with Jen, anyway? You guys aren’t friends.”
“I don’t want Jen. I want Ada. I mean, I’m looking for her. She disappeared.”
“She’s not answering her phone?”
“No.” I held up Ada’s phone. “Look, do you know anything? I know you’re not her biggest fan, but this is important.”
Beth huffed a breath. “I bet it is. Everyone’s always worried about Ada. I wouldn’t be that worried about her. She knows how to take care of herself.”
“What do you mean? If you know something, you have to tell me.”
“You shouldn’t trust her, you know. She’ll take advantage of you just like she does everyone else.”
I shook my head. “She wouldn’t do that.”
“Wouldn’t she? You’ll realize someday that I did you a favor. Ada was manipulating you and trying to put one over on Irma. She’s done it before.”
“A favor?” I repeated. “What kind of . . . ?” Suddenly I understood. “It was you,” I said slowly. “You heard me talking at the Valentine’s party about what happened between me and Damon. You went to Miss Irma.”
“I wasn’t trying to cause trouble for you,” said Beth, looking sullen. “I was trying to protect you. Ada’s a bad egg. You’re better off without her.”
“You’re wrong. Ada would never do anything . . .”
“She got you into this life, didn’t she? You’re not like us. Me and Jen and Ada and the others . . . We didn’t have much of a choice. Miss Irma looks like a walk in the park compared to the other options life gave us. But you could have been something. You had a good life and opportunities. Money, a future, a family that loves you. Ada couldn’t stand it. She wanted to bring you down to our level.”
Almost against my will, I thought about her words. Was it true what she was saying? Was it Ada’s fault I got into this life? But I’d wanted to. I’d practically begged her, and she had always tried to stop me.
“Listen,” I said, “I don’t care what she did. If you know anything at all, you have to help me. Ada could be in serious trouble, and we need to look out for each other. Did she come by here? Did Jen mention that she’d spoken to her recently?”
Beth shook her head.
“Great,” I said. “Dead end. Thanks anyway.”
I turned my coat collar up and stepped back into the driving rain, tears of frustration prickling behind my eyes.
“Wait,” said Beth. I turned around. “Before you give up, you might as well try Westlake Park.”
“What have you heard?” I said sharply.
“I swear, I don’t know anything. She could be a million miles away now, or around the corner, or dead, but Westlake Park is where a lot of Irma’s old whores wash up when Irma’s through with them. You could call it the Miss Irma Retirement Community.”
I don’t know what that means, but I’m off to find out.
Mon, March 9, later
Westlake Park is right in the mi
ddle of downtown Seattle, blocks away from the art museum and the convention center. Minutes from the business hotels where I used to meet most of my clients and only a few steps away from where I walked with Damon on our date. I’ve passed this park dozens of time and never noticed anything strange about it. I was always here in daylight, and it seemed perfectly nice.
But it’s different after dark, and it didn’t take me long to figure out why Beth thought Ada might be here. The women standing around the park are obviously streetwalkers. That’s what she meant by Miss Irma’s Retirement Community. When girls like me and Ada and Beth get too old or too difficult for Miss Irma’s service, this is the only option left.
Still, even if I understood what Beth had meant, it’s hard to picture Ada in this environment. These girls don’t dress like Ada. They’re streetwalkers, and they are dressed to make sure everyone knows it. They lean into car windows, negotiating deals.
I walked around the park a few times, my eyes instinctively seeking out Ada’s tall, graceful form, her long swirling coat, her shimmery blond hair. But is that what she would look like now? Or would she be dressed in hot pants and fishnets and a lace bra? Would she wear a wig, as many of the girls seem to? I watched everyone carefully, trying to see past their performance to the person underneath.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t long before people started to notice me. A couple of the girls started staring back. One wanted to know what I was looking at and what my problem was. I wanted to run away, but I knew that wouldn’t get me any closer to Ada. So I screwed up my courage and approached her.
“I’m looking for someone named Ada,” I said. “Maybe you can help?” I pulled up a photo of her on my phone, but the woman wouldn’t even look at it.
“I mind my own business around here, and so should you,” she said.
I swallowed my disappointment and slinked away, wondering if anyone else would be more helpful. That’s when someone grabbed me roughly by the arm and spun me around.
