Ashley stood in the bedroom doorway. Dressed in a thin orange cotton halter-top and matching shorts her horniness was evident. The outline of her hardening nipples protruded through the material. She knew it was 12 o'clock somewhere as she took another long drink from her glass Ashley asked him again. There was no answer. John just sat on the bed propped up against the pillows, and stared blankly at his book. The reading lights were still on even though the bedroom was ablaze in the morning light. John was not reading. In he fixed stare, he would not or could not answer her questions. Even the dog ignored her as she turned from the doorway.
Ashley returned to the trailer's kitchen, refilled her glass with Jack and ginger, and weaved towards the couch. John was not going to provide her with answers or advise. It must be her decision. What was she to do? She must decide quickly. Ashley glanced at the pile of unsigned papers and forms that John had piled on the kitchen table. She bit her lip and took another long drink from the glass. Then she began to cry. With the tears came the memories of the past eight months.
The terror of that March evening in the lobby of the 4 Corners Casino & Cafe flooded back. Three security guards cornered her while she sat on the bench in the corner of the lobby. She had been trying to get someone to mind Mickey, her little mutt, while she went to the bathroom. Now Mickey shivered inside her dirty canvas jacket. Ashley hugged her grease-smeared backpack to her knees with one arm and waved the other menacingly in the air. The men were trying to get her out of the lobby. They did not think she was the type of customer that the management wanted in their establishment. Mickey yelped while she swore, pleaded, and swung her arm wildly back and forth to keep them at bay.
Looking between the guards, she saw him standing in the small crowd, which had gathered to observe the commotion. Their eyes met. Silently she had pleaded with him for rescue. Miraculously he came forward. "What's the problem, little sister? I'm so sorry I'm late," he asserted as he pushed passed the guards.
"Hey Mister, mind your own business. She just a cheap whore..." shouted the largest guard.
John just ignored him. Instead, he pushed passed him and reached out a hand towards the trembling woman. She grabbed it like a lifeline and started to pull herself up. The big guard grabbed his shoulder and tried to pull him back.
The older grey haired man reacted in a surprising fashion. He just said, "Sonny, I'd take that big mitt of yours off my shoulder before this turns into the biggest complaint this two bit casino has ever had before the Gaming Commission and your ass is on the pavement outside." The words and the authoritative tone of their delivery shook the guard's confidence. The burly guard slowly withdrew his hand. Ashley was quickly at his side. There she briefly cowered. John placed his arm around he. She was in her late thirties. The dirty brown man's canvas jacket was several sizes to large for her. Her jeans were dirty. There was a grease smudge on her chin, and small abrasions on her cheek. He could smell the odor of beer and tobacco smoke. Ashley remembered that she had whispered only one word to him, her name.
"Let's go sweetie," was all he said as he grabbed her pack with one hand and her elbow with the other and started to turn towards the door.
"I can't go now," she mumbled. She remembered how the words had caught him by surprise. There was a flabbergasted look on his face. "I need to pee," she emphatically explained in an embarrassed voice. " They wouldn't let me go. I need to pee, really badly." Ashley pleaded.
"Go on. Boys, you heard the lady. Let's be fair now. She needs to use the bathroom. Let her through, please." The security guards stepped back.
The scene played out in Ashley's mind. She handed him the dog and dropped her backpack at his feet. As she brushed past him, he pressed a five-dollar casino coin into her hand. "For luck and a fresh start," he whispered. Then as she hurried towards the casino entrance she heard him say in a louder voice, "Ashley don't be long, and you can do your make-up in the truck." Everyone laughed at the comment. Ashley disappeared.
Ten minutes later, hoots of glee and the rapid beep of a slot machine paying out announced that Ashley's fortunes might have changed. Shortly there after, she approached her savior with a smile and her pockets bulging with coins. "Look, we won! We won!" shouted Ashley. His face filled with an express that combined wonder, relief, and happiness. The recollection of that moment brought both joy and sadness to Ashley. The memories of their first meeting continue to flood back over her mind.
Only one guard now remained to supervise them. He just laughed, shook his head, and quipped, "Hey man, some people have all the luck." Then in a more frustrated tone he muttered, " Get her ass out of here. I think you've worn out your welcome." They followed his advice, left the casino, and walked towards a pick-up and trailer at the back of the truck parking lot. In the trailer, he had introduced himself as John Marshall, retired plumbing fixture salesman. However, before they could really become acquainted the guards rousted them out of the parking lot. Together they left Wells and headed north for Jackpot.
Ashley didn't remember much of the drive. She was sipping brandy from a flask John offered her, became a little drunk, and slept most of the way. She did remember waking up late the next day in a suite in the Last Chance Motel and Casino. That memory always made her smile. The bed had been soft and smelled sweet. Now she rubbed the surface of the trailer's sofa just as if she was rubbing the sheets on the bed and the memories of that day played back in her mind like a movie.
The hotel bedroom was large. She could hear sports on the TV in the adjacent room. A brief moment of panic swept through her. "Where was she?" A movement near her feet caught her eye. There was Mickey. She knew she was safe. Beside Mickey was a terry robe. She reached for it and slid off the bed. On the bedroom dresser were neat piles of clothes. Some she recognized and others were obviously new. A new knapsack leaned against the base of the dresser. She carelessly tied the robe. It felt good against her nakedness. With the feeling came the realization that she was clean. Her hair freshly washed smelled. Her skin felt soft and pampered. Someone was taking care of her. She hugged herself in the robe. The feel of the material against her skin was delightful. For the first time in years, she felt sensuous, sexy, and but most of all, indulged.
In her vision, Ashley saw herself walk to the doorway and the sound of the TV. In the next room, watching the afternoon ball game was a grey haired man. He was sipping a drink and oblivious to her presence. She observed silently for a moment, then gently coughed, and entered the room.
Startled at the sound the man turned and exclaimed, "Oh! Oh you're awake...I'm so sorry was the TV too loud?" He rose and moved away from the sofa. As he did a jumble of words came from his mouth. In a rushed, panic he explained that he had helped her shower and bought her some new clothes and a new pack. Ashley remembered that John, the one who had stood up to three bullying guards, had been self-conscious and fearful that he had offended her. He continued, "...I put all of your old things in a garbage bag. It's in the bedroom closet. That wasn't meant to indicate that they were...I didn't throw them out...Oh, I hope I have not caused you any offense." The words flowed in a nervous staccato and the expression on his face was one of genuine concern.
"Oh my God John... It is John, isn't it?" Ashley looked down, embarrassed that she did not even remember his name.