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by Catherine Bancroft
So you say you need to make some extra money? Yeah. I can help fix you up
with some good clients. There’s a lot of cash to be made doing this. It’s like I
have my own part time business. I’m even thinking of having business cards
made up. The problem is, I can’t keep up with all the customers. There’s too
many of them these days. And I keep telling yah, it’s not as bad as yah think,
okay? First, let me tell yah all about how I got into this line of work, so you won’t
think I’m some kind of psycho.
It all started the night I got kicked out of my apartment. I hadn’t been able to pay
the rent for a few months. The company I worked for closed its doors, I was out
of work, and the unemployment ran out. Happens to a lot of people, especially
these days. Had only like five bucks in my pocket, the clothes on my back.
There was like twenty in my savings, I remember. The phone was dead the
week before, and I was okay with that, because that way I didn’t have to listen to
the collectors who kept calling me. The landlord wasn’t even letting me back in
to get my stuff, which was probably illegal. I didn’t have much anyway, clothes, a
few beers in the fridge, a cheap TV, CD’s, an old computer, a few pairs of blue
jeans, sneakers… the usual stuff an apartment dweller has. So I landed on the
street with five bucks and no food.
I checked in at the shelter. The people at the desk said they were full. They
sent me to the soup kitchen, though, which was at least a meal. Next I sat on a
bench under a streetlight and wondered what the hell I was gonna do.
I had no family locally, none that would take me in, anyway. I thought about stuff
that I had read about people who end up on the streets. They end up either
getting knifed by some crackhead, or if they live, they end up selling their ass. I
did not want to be knifed, and for sure I did not want to sell my ass. I actually
began to wonder how low I would sink if I got hungry enough, cold enough,
scared enough. It was November and I had only my leather jacket. It was
midnight, it was starting to snow, and I was getting miserable.
Then I heard this voice, “Do you want to make some money?” I was relieved
that it was a lady’s voice, and not some guy. I looked up, and there was a black
Cadillac. The blonde lady in the Cadillac wore a mink coat, matching fur hat,
diamond necklace and I am like, oh honey, take me for a ride! She was drop
dead gorgeous. There was someone in the seat next to her, too -- a blonde
and a brunette. The brunette wore a white fox. “Want some company, ladies?” I
asked, and made a big friendly smile.
“Open the door for him.” Said the blonde. She reminded me of a film star from
the forties. Something about her seemed old fashioned, yet sophisticated.
“Oh Clarisse!” The other one giggled, then looked serious, “You’re not
serious? Are you?”
The door opened. So I got in. Looked like I was about to sell my ass. But the
customers were the kind I like, at least. They looked good, they smelled good –
hell, I had never seen two women who looked that clean in a very long time. I
got in the backseat of the car and sat behind the ladies.
“I’m Clarisse. This is Rachel.”
I looked at Rachel; she reminded me of Jackie Kennedy.
“And I’m Jake! Hello, lovely ladies!” I was new at this routine, and I supposed
these two girls could probably tell.
“Would you like to earn some money?” said Clarisse.
I decided to be honest. “Okay, girls. Right now, yeah, I could use some
money.” And I probably had a desperate look on my face too, which is probably
why they pulled their car over next to the bench I sat on.
“Oh, but it’s not really what you think,” said Rachel, “You see, Clarisse and I,
well, we’re —“
“We’re vampiresses!” said lovely Clarisse. And she smiled when she said it,
saying it with the same happy tone of voice you would hear as if some girl said
‘We’re stewardesses!’ And when she smiled, I could see her teeth. Her sharp
teeth.
“Huh?” It took a moment to get over my shock. I sat there, in the back of the
Cadillac, staring at them both. I wasn’t sure if I should believe it or not, but
somehow I knew it was true. What kept me seated was the fact that Clarisse
was in the process of opening her little expensive designer pocketbook and
pulling out this thick wad of cash. I had never seen so much damn money in
front of me in my life before.
Rachel looks at me and says, “Oh you don’t need to worry, Jake. We don’t kill
people like you see on TV. We usually live off animal blood. We buy it from
slaughterhouses. But sometimes we – especially Clarisse here – sometimes it’s
nice to have something fresh and warm and alive for a change.”
Clarisse kept counting out, “How about five hundred? Is that enough, Jake?”
She smiled again, “We can drive to my place, or I can just come sit in the
backseat with you?”
I thought about it. My head was spinning but I kept my eyes on the cash. Then I
said, “You’re not going to drink it all, right?” I was like, hey, I need some leftover
for me, girls.
“No!” Says Clarisse, “Of course not! I wouldn’t want to harm you. Just enough
to enjoy some of your blood, Jake.”
And then Rachel pipes up, “And will be just Clarisse. If both of us had you
tonight, you’d be weakened by it. And that’s just not ethical.”
Sheesh. I’m about to sell my ass – or actually, blood – to a rich vampiress, and
these two are discussing ethics. I thought about it, and I realized – My only
other alternative might be to actually sell my ass, which would be a lot more
degrading. Yeah. It really would be. I even began to wonder which alternative
would actually hurt more.
“Okay,” I mumbled weakly.
“Yes?” Clarisse almost looked happily surprised. “Well, all right.” She opened
the door to get out of the driver’s seat and stepped out of the car to come into
the back seat. I guess vampiresses just have too much class to just climb over.
I got worried then. I wondered if I might be found dead and drained on the side
of the road the next morning. But then I could be found dead anyway, since I
was now officially homeless street scum. Only this way, she might keep her
promise and leave me alive with five hundred bucks.
She came into the back seat while Rachel took the wheel and pulled the car off
the road to park it.
“Don’t be nervous,” said Clarisse.
“Oh, like, hell no! I’m not nervous.” Like, yeah. I was.
So she sat herself right next to me. Next thing I know she’s undoing the collar of
my shirt. I felt myself shaking but I shut up and thought about the five hundred
bucks and hoped to be alive when it was all over so I could just get the money.
She moved in close, and I felt this little nick, like two needles piercing my skin.
Then when the blood began to flow she withdrew her teeth and pressed her lips
to my throat and quietly drank. I closed my eyes and tried not to be scared.
And then I realized something, which was actually a strange thing to realize in
this situation -- that I’d never been this close to a real mink coat before.
She held onto me with an almost tight embrace while she drank from my throat,
and I could tell she was enjoying it. As time went on, I began to enjoy it too. It
felt almost like a prolonged intense kiss. After a while I began to sink into this
dark oblivion of peacefulness and warmth. I forgot about my problems. I just
relaxed and let go and let it happen.
But then she let go of me and suddenly I felt cold. I didn’t want her to let go, I
wanted her to keep on doing what she was doing. It was like part of me had
gone to sleep and I didn’t want to wake up. I felt her stuff something into the
pocket of my leather jacket. But now the five hundred didn’t seem to matter that
much anymore. My eyes were closed, and I felt too weak to open them, but I
could hear them talk.
“Did you take too much?” it was Rachel in the front seat.
“Don’t think so. His pulse is still strong. Maybe he hasn’t been eating. He’s
awfully thin, isn’t he?” Clarisse was right. The unemployment had run out, and
it was tough to pay for both rent and groceries. “Other than that, it’s great to
finally have a meal that’s not from a refrigerator.” She actually sighed. “And he’
s sort of cute too.” I felt her fingertips run along my wound, caressing my throat.
“Well, either way, I think you’re paying him too way much,” Rachel again. And I
wanted her to shut the hell up.
“Yes, well, he looks like he could use it. I don’t think he’d be on a bench if he
didn’t. If he had a home, he’d be there right now. Wouldn’t he?”
“What are you going to do with him now, Clarisse, since you’re apparently done
with him?”
“Let’s find a hotel or something. Drop him off. He’s waking up now anyway.”
“Why don’t you get his cell phone number, if he has a cell phone. In case he
wants to make more easy money.” This time I was glad Rachel wouldn’t shut up.
My eyes slowly opened and I was alone in the backseat. Clarisse was in the
passenger seat and Rachel was driving the Cadillac. I looked out the window
and we had pulled up next to a cheap motel. The girls dropped me off. I walked
a little unsteady, but I was basically okay. Clarisse asked if I was all right. I
assumed I was. I was alive, I was about to spend the rest of the night in a bed
instead of on the streets, and I had five hundred bucks in my pocket. Yeah. I
was okay.
I shuffled into the motel. There was this kid half asleep at the desk. I asked
what the cheapest room was, then I noticed the signed. Help Wanted. As I
wandered off to bed, went to sleep remembering that.
In the morning, I had breakfast at the fast food place next to the motel, and then
went to ask about the job. It was janitorial, but it was a job. I started work there,
and worked out a deal to stay in the room. Eventually I got a desk job. It doesn’
t pay much, but I have extra income, any time I want it… Any time I want nice
clothes, a new CD player, stuff like that, and I’m saving for a car.
Hold on a minute. I gotta answer my cell phone. I think it’s a customer.
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