"I have connections. Believe me. DO WHAT I SAY."
"Shut your pie holes, you two,' growled the driver.
All of Salt's systems shut down for the first 24 hours in jail. She couldn't understand why her mother didn't come get her. She didn't eat or drink. If she could have helped it she wouldn't have breathed or peed, either. She just sat on the cement floor, ignoring the cold, leaning back against the wall with her head between her legs, sobbing. Then, the second day, she was given a cellmate.
Her new roommate was a foxy looking older woman, not that Salt noticed. The new roomer put up with Salt's sobbing for a while, but finally she figured, enough is enough. "For Christ's sake, put a sock in it, kid. You want them to see you grovel."
Salt looked up. Truly, she hadn't been aware she had company. "Who who who are you?" she sobbed.
"Call me Gracie."
Salt went back to crying, but she tried to be quiet. "First time, eh?" Gracie asked. When Salt didn't respond, she asked, "What cha do?"
"I'm not supposed to talk." Salt looked up at Gracie for the first time. She was mahogany colored with platinum blond hair, but her hair was ratted and her nylons had long runs in them. Her figure was good, but she clearly had some miles on her.
Gracie met her eyes, "Well, you got some good advice. I wouldn't trust any old whore I shared a cell with either."
"Whore? Is that what you're in for? Oh, I'm sorry. You wouldn't be smart to talk to me, either, would you?" Salt was started to get control of herself.
"Well, I think I can be pretty sure you aren't a stoolie. Besides, there's no disputing what I am. I got priors and they know me well. It's a fact; if you're in the game, you're going to see a cell from time to time, and pay your dues."
"I didn't know that. How can you stand it?"
"Shit, honey, by the time you get where I am, you ain't got no choice. Look at me, honey. If you ever think whoring is a way to get rich, let me be a lesson."
"You mean you can't get rich whoring? I thought it paid good. Why, a guy offered to pay me $150 just for a quick fuck. Ha, I don't know if he was really serious. Anyway, my boyfriend said there's no way I'd fuck him for only a hundred bucks."
"Don't get me wrong, chile, there's good money to be made, but you got to be smarter than ol' Gracie."
"I don't understand."
"There was a time when I'd turn just one or two tricks a night—for $1500 each. That's when I was young and beautiful, like you. But I didn't save the money when I had it, and now all I'm worth is $100 a trick and my pimp gets most of that."
"You pay a pimp?"
"Ain't like I got a choice. Gal got to have protection in the game. Stan up, chile, let me look at you.
Salt stood up and tried to show herself to good advantage, something that was hard to do, under the circumstances.
"Ah, ha. Body like that, you could get major money, chile. But you needs a manager who won't take no vantage a you. Let you keep you share you earnin's. Don't let nobody mark you up with no knife."
Salt and Gracie spent the next few days talking about what Gracie called the 'game.' Then, finally, they were both shackled and taken to court. It was not a pleasant education to sit in the courtroom and see the long line of prostitutes pleading out. Most of them were able to pay their fines and leave, but the ones without money were given sentences of 90 days to a year, depending on their priors.
The longer this went on, the worse Salt felt. She didn't have any money, no friends. Well, maybe Gracie was a friend but she didn't really trust her, and it was sure Gracie couldn't help her. She despaired. Suddenly the door opened and Pepper walked in, accompanied by an older gent and a young woman, dressed in a pin stripe suit. Pepper and the older gent sat in the gallery while the woman, who turned out to be a lawyer, walked forward to whisper in the bailiff's ear. Then she took a seat next to Salt. "I'm Shiela. I've been hired to represent you. This should be over quickly. Don't worry."
"But, but . . . " Sheila didn't give Salt the chance to respond.
"Shhsssh," she said, and Salt shut up. If Pepper was in on this, then she would have faith.
The bailiff walked up to the Judge and whispered in his ear. The Judge addressed Sheila, "Miss Jones, you have a petition?"
"Your honor, the police have made a terrible mistake. Miss Salt Smith was arrested for home invasion. Today, the home owner returned from abroad where he'd been out of reach in a remote location and was horrified to discovered the police had arrested his niece for invading his home, but she had his permission."
The owner of the home turned out to be the man who accompanied Pepper into the courtroom. He came forward and was sworn, after which he confirmed what Sheila had said.
"Case dismissed!" The sweetest words ever spoken.
Out on the street, Salt felt the free air and sun and bubbled over with joy. "How in the world did you manage that, Pepper?"
"I know a guy who knows a guy."
"And he arranged this for free?"
"Not quite for free."
"What do you mean? You don't have money, do you?"
"Not money. I thought you'd be happy to meet with my friend and tell him how grateful you are."
"How grateful I am? Does that mean what I think it means?"
"You're thinking you're going to have to fuck him? Don't worry. This guy is so old he can hardly pee. Still, he loves women and likes to have them around him. Treat him right and you'll find him a warm and fun guy to be around.
"Look, Salt, if you'd had to fuck him to get free, you'd have done it, wouldn't you?"
Salt nodded. "Sure I would. I just don't know if I could satisfy him—you know—act like I liked him."
"God, I hope that won't be a problem."
It wasn't. Salt's knees were knocking together when she was ushered into see the man, even with Pepper's support she was nervous as a lamb in the slaughterhouse. But Benjamin—that was his name—immediately put her to ease with his good manners and charm. There was no hint that he thought she was obligated to him, or owed him favors. To the contrary, he treated her like a princess, asked her what she'd like to drink, offering her candy or caviar and so full of curiosity about her and her life and desires that he quickly peeled away her apprehension and had her eagerly sharing ideas and laughing at his wicked wit.
Gee, Salt thought, he's really nice. I think I could like him a lot. She wondered what he'd do if she—well, there's no point wondering, she thought—she stood up and crossed the short distance that separated her seat from his, and sat on the arm of his chair. She ran her fingers through his hair. "You're a nice guy, Benji," she said. "I'm so grateful for what you've done for me. I hope it didn't cost a lot."
