The Woman in Red

Chicago was excentric. Much bigger than Franklin and a little overwhelming but bustling at the seams with tons of characters some dressed in elaborate suits and dresses and others in rags worse than I had at home. With no idea where to go I began walking with no clear destination in mind by nightfall I had fallen short of finding suitable shelter and took to sleeping on a park bench. The sounds of the city keeping me awake in fear. But I soon found, or more so she found me, a kind middle age woman who understood my predicament she had been in the same one her entire life. She offered to let me stay with her and I gratefully accepted. She quickly dismissed my use of harlot and said we were escorts I questioned her about the difference of an escort and a prostitute and she simply replied with "Its all about the money, honey. You shoot for the upperclassman you nail those you're an escort you drop down to the scum rats of the earth then my dear, you've reduced yourself to prostitution."

Her name was Marilyn and she helped me the best she knew how. sat me down to teach me about "prowling." She told me if I happened to notice one looking at me I gave them the best smile perhaps show a little leg seductively and to always be careful

My first client was Lucifer in human form. He was the manager of the bank and his name was Royce McKinley. He was tall with a head full of dark hair and quite handsome. He began flirting with me and I returned it as Marilyn had said, before offering to take me to his apartment. I cried the entire time. He was rough and demanding and oh so different than my experience with Forrest. He even yelled before backhanding me for crying. I earned $25 Marilyn explained that night as she washed at my cheek, her bleached hair in big curlers and a cigarette held between her red nails, the upperclassmen sometimes would pay a little more in understanding the escort would keep her clients discrete.

For a short while, long enough for winter to set in, we had a descent lifestyle Marilyn helping me find clients that were kinder than my first and so we fell into routine lifestyle and then tragedy struck. Marilyn was killed. Shot in the chest by an irate, drunk client who refused to pay for Marilyn's services. Some of the other girls on the block say it was Marilyn's persistence and determination that pulled the trigger.

With Marilyn dead I couldn't afford the rent on the apartment and was evicted and out on the street. Again, I slept outside only now the weather was bitter and frigid and many of the clients stayed at home with their wives rather than venture out to find a new warmth for their bed.

It was a dreary rainy day. I sat on daddy's old suitcase shaking with cold adorning only the red dress that I had arrived in. It was nearing December and it wasn't unusual to see a snowflake mix with the rain. I couldn't survive like this much longer, I knew I couldn't. My hair and body drenched in the freezing down pour. The people of Chicago didn't even look into the small alley that I had taken refuge and the girls that I shared it with just looked at me in pity. They all had their fine leathers and exotic furs their clients had purchased them to keep warm and just watched as my body shook to provide even the smallest amount of heat. Their heavily makeuped eyes looked on from behind the veil their lit cigarette gave off before turning their backs. If I died it was one less competitor they had. My mind began to wander back home to Virginia to the warm pasture and the days spent laying out under the big oak tree and laying in Forrest's arms...

A curtain of murky street water fell upon my face jarring me forward with a shriek. The two men, one of who stomped into the puddle, stopped their frantic speech to look down at me. One, the man who stepped in the puddle, was sickly pale almost grey with black hair tucked under a fedora and a mustache his dark eyes sneering down at me. The other was taller with dark honey brown hair his two under a hat his nose straight and eyes kind.

"Damn It Gummy. Ya see what ya did?" the taller, lighter featured man barked causing me to jump before he turned back to me "ya alright sweetheart?"

I was so in awe of the man's compassion and the numbing pain of the cold I didn't respond. He looked me over concern drawing upon his face before he stood straight and shouldered out of his trench coat and pulled me to a standing position and wrapped me up in it.

"Gummy go get the car" He ordered.

"But-"

"I said go get the damn car!" he bellowed. Due to lack of food, the cold, and my heels I began to wobble as I stood and the man noticed. Slipping his arm under mine and around my waist I leaned into him. He smelled of a masculine, sweet cologne that offered comfort.

"Whats your name sweetheart?"

"Fancy" I whispered "Fancy Rae Baker"

"Don't you worry Fancy Rae. I'm taking you home with me. I'm going to get you into some warm clothes and some hot food in your belly. How does that sound?"

I hummed in content as my eyes began to feel heavy and a dark blue car pulled up. The dark featured man known as "Gummy" got out and grabbed daddy's suitcase putting it in the boot as the other man aided me into the car. Once settled he gently brought me to lean against him again, a warm inviting gesture.

"Who are you?" I mumbled out. They man looked down at me and smiled.

"My names Floyd Banner."

~*~
Arriving at Floyd's home he had his housekeeper, Olivia, take me to one of the many guest rooms and drew a hot bath and provided fresh clothes even if they were hers and were a few sizes too big. Floyd provided me with warmth, protection, food and by doing this he provided me life.

By the end of the week I was recovering from a slight case of phenomena Floyd had sent Olivia out with my measurements and she had returned with an entire new wardrobe. Everything from business dresses and hats to lingerie and makeup.

After a short recovery I was feeling much better and decided today I would pay my debt. I left my curls natural and did slight makeup and perfume and dressed in one of the crimson lacey numbers Olivia had purchased and a robe. I snuck through the shadows of the grand home to what I knew as Floyd's room.

It didn't take long of waiting before the door opened and he entered. I turned away from my spot at his window and met him in the center of the bedroom. He stopped midstride looking flabbergasted. I gave him a sultry, shy smile. I then noticed his attire his white dress shirt was rolled up his arms and the front covered in blood along with his hands.

"Oh my God you've been shot!" I cried rushing forward and looking for the wound to dress.

Floyd chuckled and pulled me up right. "No, no its not mine. Now what are you doing in my room?"

"Well" I mused playing with his collar "since you've been so good to me I thought I'ld return the favor."

"Really?" Floyd mused as I circled behind him.

'mmmhmm' I breathed in his ear seeing the goose bumps arise down his neck

"And what did you have in mind?"

Standing back in front of him my lips dangerously close to his, I spoke "Anything you want"

He seemed to be debating this as he leaned ever so closely "Have a seat Miss Baker."

Turning on his heel sharply he lead me over to the two plush arm chains in the room and walked to the awaiting trolley and poured two glasses of whiskey. He handed a glass to me before settling in the seat beside me.

"Let me explain something to you Miss Baker" he sighed placing his elbows on his knees circling the glass in his hands. "I don't expect any form of "payment" from you. I took in you in because I wanted to."

"So you took in some homeless, sick street whore because you have a conscious?" I asked crossing a leg over the other through the slit in the gown and resting my elbow upon it before leaning my head into my palm.

Floyd chuckled staring down into the amber liquid "You're no whore Fancy. I've heard of your kind before. Family's in bad shape, parents have no way out and would rather see their baby girl live a life of prostitution than starve to death." He sighed leaning back into the chair "So they send her to the big city."

"And just how do you know that's my story?" I asked leaning further forward.

"You're not from around here. You got an accent and a lot of Native American in you. Cherokee probably. And that's rare in a place such as this. And as far as my conscious" he paused standing, staring at a random spot in the floor as he twirled his drink in his glass and nodding "I have one even in a career like mine."

"And what exactly is it you do, Mr. Banner?"

"Floyd call me Floyd. And I'm the owner of the Midnight Coal Company," he answered resting his forearm on the nearby fireplace.

"And the blood on your clothes?"

"All part of the territory I'm afraid." he sighed.

"Territory as in illegal" I stated more than questioned.

"Well" he waved his hand in a 'more or less' sort of state "side business."

"Like what?" I questioned curiously.

"Ehh" Floyd rubbed over his mustache "investments in liquor, guns...That sort of thing"

"I see" I nodded tucking a curl behind my ear and staring down into the drink.

"Hey" he kneeled down before me "does that bother you?"

"No, no not at all. Its your choice its just-." I chuckled.

"Just what sweetheart?" Floyd asked petting my hair softly.

"Just trying to plan my next move. Since you're not going to take any form of payment I cant just live off of you."

"They hell you can't but if it will make you feel better I might have a job for you." Floyd spoke.

I looked at him shocked "Really?"

Sitting in the arm of chair he pulled me to his chest and pet my hair comfortingly "I'll take care of you Fancy. You don't need to worry about a thing anymore, I'll take care of it all,sweetheart."

And how right he was.....