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Today, Charla
felt the presence of death near her -- around her -- surrounding her. Hunger
wasn’t the cause, because she had been hungrier before this and survived it.
No, an overwhelming hopelessness was killing her. It was as if death were not
just an even or an experience, but a being. Today, death was someone
who could breathe his foul breath into her face, whisper foul things into her
head, and make her shiver with fear of the future. Charla
was afraid to live like this, yet she was afraid to die, too. She was so
tired. In face, she might just commit suicide, she knew,
if she continued to dwell upon these thoughts -- she would not be able to
stand one more day like this one. And right then, she had a thought. After such terrifying thoughts of an unseen predator, she was
surprised to find that food somehow appeared for her to eat, that she managed
to sleep in these roach-infested surroundings, and that she had not gone
crazy from the unreality of it all. Still, she was reaching the end. Charla was not a fatalist, neither
did she go through life blind to all its horrors. She knew misery and pain –
had known them intimately, yet she knew how to switch her thoughts in a new
direction when things proved too much for her. Today, however, she could not
escape an overwhelming reality: that she had nothing to live for, and dying would be a sweet relief. Yet, for her entire growing up years, her mother and
stepfather had faithfully dropped her off in church, and she was just too
scared of facing an eternity in hell to commit suicide. She wasn’t
ready to give her life to a god who would permit some of the things she had
gone through, but neither was she willing to complicate her agony by moving
from one form of torture to an eternal one. In fact, the whole thing seemed
hopeless. “God,” she said in a moment of despair, “Just let me somehow
find my way to a safe place, and then I’ll really think about living for you.
I’ll seriously think about it. But right now, from the frying pan into the
fire, I can’t see my way to caring about you one way or another. Today, Charla wasn’t worried about
food, though money was more than tight. Charla had
a couple of ten-cent ramen noodle packets and some buttery spread left of the
ice box. There was nothing else in her refrigerator. She had no milk, no
eggs, and no bread. In fact, the only reason there was anything in the
refrigerator at all was because that was the only place to keep her noodles
safe from the mice the little winged bugs that seemed to invade everything in
the cabinets of her tiny, dingy apartment. Charla had expected a better life
when she ran away from home a few months ago. She had planned to find work.
However, her stepfather was so well-known and respected around town that she
had been turned down everywhere. In fact, soon after leaving an
establishment, she would usually spot a police cruiser searching for a sign
of her. People were calling to turn her in, and so she had been forced to
flee the nice areas of town for the seedy slums. If she were ever caught, Charla
would probably face some sort of juvenile detention, and from what she had
heard, it was even worse than her life at home had been. Thanks to
a coarse, lazy woman who traded childcare for a teeny space in the back of
her already small apartment, Charla didn't have to
do anything dirty to pay for her rent – at first. Still, the work had only
provided her a home, not money. The small mount of free time she got in the
daytime while the kids were in school she had spent babysitting the children
of other lazy people who paid her just enough to keep alive, but not enough
to avoid her constant hunger. Even then, she had often been kept busy dodging drunken
husbands or live-in lovers at the end of her shift. In spite of the
odds stacked against her, however, Charla had
survived without being raped or used -- for a few months, anyway. Dan had
said she couldn't last a day away from home, but she had escaped his control
almost a year ago, and she was still alive. Still,
she knew, she was not going to be able to continue like this much longer. When her landlady’s husband got out of jail and came home, he
had decided to add family meals into the deal for her living arrangements.
But then, the first time his wife was out of the house for the evening, he
had exacted that payment from Charla in the form of
her body. She was humiliated, but faced with either rape or consensual sex,
she decided that giving in was safer. Still, though he wasn’t as rough as her
stepfather, Charla realized that there was no
future for her here. Last week, she had run out of deodorant. Shampoo had
disappeared days before, but she was able to sneak small squirts of the
family’s dish liquid for her hair. Being alone was tough--harder
than she had expected. She knew now that she might have to do the
unthinkable, and sell her body to strangers on the street. For years, her mom’s husband had made her life so hard that it
had seemed like starvation and loneliness would be preferable to his grasping
hands. She had since learned differently. Now, only pride kept her here. She
would gladly return home, but she knew that they would not allow her back
without an apology, and she would truly prefer starvation than to deny that
she had spoken the truth. How could Mom have taken his word over
mine? Is she nuts? Charla found herself shuddering
with oncoming tears. After years of living through the abuse, she had finally
risked everything to tell her mother, and faced her incredulous anger. Charla shrugged her shoulders,
punching the side of her head to clear away the tormenting thoughts. She was
tired of the memories and the anger. At these moments, more than any other
time, she longed for death. If I
could just forget... Yet, the thoughts kept coming, and the same depressing
arguments played through her mind. "He lies to you all the
time, but you never catch him at it! He's a cheater, and you want him--you
prefer him over me?" Furious, Charla had left,
running out the door, and only sneaking back into her room through the window
later that night to get some clothes. After sliding the window shut on her
final exit, Charla had walked away, never to
return. Now, she could not go back. If I died, it would
be his fault--and hers. But she
didn't want her mom to suffer--just him. Charla
knew she was an idiot. She felt rage at herself for forgiving her mother, and
rage at herself for not being able to forgive Dan. I know I won’t be free until I forgive him, but I hate him
so much! The racing thoughts began again. She always believes him,
no matter what he says. Of course she would believe him now... She never
believed me, though. That’s what makes me feel so bad. Curling up on her
bed, not bothering to cover herself from the cold,
she whispered, "I love you, Mom." Charla was crying a lot lately. She
constantly thought of her mother, whom she had protected for so long from the
true knowledge of her disgusting, creepy husband’s perverseness. It was only
when Charla couldn't take any more--when Dan asked
for more than she could give--that she had revealed the situation. Then, she
was shocked to discover that her mother would trade her for a man who would
gladly cheat on her with a teenaged girl who didn’t even want what he
offered. Charla knew why her mom had been
fooled. Dan was charismatic and oh-so-earnest. He was a smooth operator and
he managed to make people think of him as a good guy. But couldn’t the woman who shared his bed and his life see what he
really was? Could she be so blind? Charla
finally fell into an exhausted sleep hours before morning. The next day dawned dreary and dark. She was tired of this
place. Surprisingly, she realized that she could leave. She needed to get
away, and quickly. Not only was the lack of food killing her, but the
hopelessness and the misery of being so near Dan and her mother was hurting
her, too. She had to gather herself and head out of town, but she needed some
very quick thinking. “What would Mom do now?” Charla sometimes felt that it was stupid
to continue to hold her mother up as an example. Yet, Charla's
mother was one of the strongest people she knew, and one of the women she
most admired. She was an incredible fighter, and she had faced the same
starvation that threatened to destroy Charla now.
She ran away from home as a teen to avoid her abusive father’s fists. How ironic, thought Charla, that
another form of abuse drove me away. The more she thought about it, the more Charla
realized that her mother's example would help her find a way out of this
mess. She thought back to her mother’s stories. First, Charla
remembered, Mom had stolen a social security card. Stealing a card
from one of the neighborhood drunks would be easy, she thought, and it was. Charla simply offered to baby-sit
their kids while they went out on the town for a while. How anyone in this neighborhood could afford to live so well, Charla didn’t know. What she absolutely understood,
however, was that this woman had never worked a day in her life and would
probably never miss the card. She was a lifelong loafer, and the fact that
she hadn’t even taken her purse proved that she wasn’t too careful of her
things. Charla kissed the kids goodnight
and she told them that she would likely not see them again for a while. They
were sweet children, practically mute due to a combination of bad genes and
poor parenting. Still, she had a story for them, in case anyone tried to
track her. Charla told them she was moving
away to live with her aunt in a trendy apartment in Sunny As she walked along the dark highway near her
apartment complex, Charla thought about Charla accepted up a trucker’s
offer to hitch a ride with him after ensuring that he had protection. She
wouldn’t mind a man touching her with permission -- it would be a glorious
change from Dan’s forceful attentions and her last “lover’s” adulterous
advances. However, she didn’t want to catch any strange diseases. With
all the traveling truckers did, Charla could
imagine that any trucker's store of disease was plentiful. Yet, the trucker didn’t stop at the first exit, as she had
imagined he might do. In fact, after a while, Charla
noticed that this man seemed kind. Later, only after securing her promise
that she was indeed 18, and after taking her out for a nice meal, he checked
into a hotel with her. He looked about 40, had mostly gray hair, and had a pretty
nice body, she reflected as she watched him undress and hang his clothes
neatly over a chair. He also seemed to have manners, she realized, since she
kept his underwear on and slipped slowly under the covers on his side of the
bed, finally offering her his shoulder as he looked for a good television
channel with the remote. Truly, it was a new experience to have sex with someone who
had her complete permission. In fact, Charla decided
that there were plenty of things a lot worse. The trucker -- a guy
who, ironically, was named Dan like her stepfather -- took her all the way to
They traveled together, eating and sleeping, and chatting
happily. For the first time in a while, there was plenty of food, good
conversation, and a lot of interesting scenery. Even more enjoyable to Charla was the thought that Dan seemed to have taken a
liking to her. In fact, when they reached I could
definitely get used to having a sugar daddy, she thought with a grin. Knowing
better than anybody that men couldn’t be trusted to keep their word, however,
Charla set to work on gaining her independence.
Finding a job came first, she decided. She hand-washed her best outfit and hung it carefully to dry.
The next morning, she took the four mile walk to a Taco It was a decent and clean restaurant and she wanted to get a
job that was relatively close to home. On a highway that boasted a
building every few miles, Charla decided that Taco Thankfully, it was winter, Charla
said to herself with a chuckle, because the trucker hadn’t left her any
deodorant. She did, however, have a social security card. She
entered the Taco Charla was devastated. She had
walked far on an empty stomach, since the trucker hadn’t left any food or
money -- simply the promise to be back in two days. She was hungry and tired,
and now it seemed she had no chance at a job. Charla’s
eyes began to water. Sighing, the manager took one look at her and understood. “Runaway?”
Charla couldn’t admit it, though they both clearly
knew the situation. “No, Ma’am,” Charla said
cautiously. “I left on my own when my family couldn’t afford to keep me.” It
was close enough. They could afford her financially, but no way was Mom going
to be able to afford the emotional devastation of a daughter pregnant with
her own husband’s baby. It was, indeed, almost true. Understanding without being told, the manager nodded
as if Charla had laid out the whole sordid story.
She checked her watch, turned, and shouted something to the assistant
manager. Then, the woman headed into the back with the command to "stay
put." In moments, she appeared with a paper bag and swept past Charla to the door. “Well, are you coming?” Charla thought of asking, “You mean me?” But she knew
already who she was calling. Relieved, Charla nodded and fell into
step beside her -- the contents of the bag smelling good enough to lead her
like the children who followed pied piper. “Something like this
happened to my cousin once. She lost all her papers in a move. So we went a
roundabout way to get back all her stuff--she was an ex-con, so it didn't pay
to call the police about it. First stop: the library.” They got Charla a library
card without too much fuss. Sammie -- the Taco Sammie then took her to the electric company, where Liverine
was added to her utility bill, providing proof of residency. Then,
they headed to the local health department where they signed her up for free
services, and she got an immediate supply of birth control pills -- quite
handy if Dan kept his promise to stop by regularly. There, they had her fill out a registration form and gave her
a clinic ID card -- which had been their goal all along. With that,
they took a breather and went to a gas station for sodas. It had been a
whirlwind day, but when all of these documents proved that she was Liverine Jortensen, she was
able to get a state ID card. Luckily, Sammie was known by all, and very
respected. Her word was so helpful, that by That lunch proved to be the beginning of a
full-blown burrito addiction. After Charla's first
week working at Taco Since Taco Hadn’t she gone to bed with Dan that first day just to get a
ride? Still, she decided that he had been a nice guy, and in spite of all
that, she would be faithful to him until he proved false. Eventually,
however, her hunch about Rick, the boy with the burritos, however, was proven
true. He came to her and said he was having a particular
difficulty, concerning her. “Yeah, it’s definitely a problem,” Rick said. “I can’t keep my
mind off of you even after I get home. I mean, looking at you, I can see why,
but when I’m not even around you -- well, it’s got me all in a knot.” He told her this a couple of weeks
after she got the job, right after she pocketed her first paycheck. He had
hijacked her --waiting until her mouth was full of food before sitting down,
and then launching into a conversation both odd and unnerving. He was simply
crazy. She had no other definition for this child. In reality, she was younger than Dan -- another
funny coincidence; the name kept popping up everywhere. Besides the fact that
she told everyone she was over 18, she had other reasons for not wanting
anything to do with Dan. In spite the fact that he was older than her real
age, she found him too young for her. For one thing, he still went to high school. Charla had graduated early. Another reason was that he
was stuck in girl-chasing mode, and she was not one to be caught. She had
dealt with enough of that with her skirt-chasing step-father. Finally, she
was ready for a steady, dependable man, and this boy was neither of those
things. Besides, she already had her sugar daddy, Dan. Charla -- ahem, Liverine
-- laughed when she thought about the feaar that
hit her when she opened the door to the hotel the afternoon of her job
interview. She had found Dan waiting inside, anger evident on his features. “Where were you?” he had asked tightly. She had taken one look
at him and had frozen stiff. Her stepfather had worn that look one too many
times, and it had always led to a beating or a violent sexual attack. She
tried not to show her intention to flee, her hand still on the doorknob, but
then suddenly, his face changed. “What’s happening to you, Charla?”
he said tenderly. "You're scared! Of me?" She had accidentally
given him her real name the day they’d met. Only two days ago. Had it only been two days? I feel like this man
is my husband and as if I’ve been with him for years. He stared at her, finally coming close and laying a -- how else could she put it? -- a fatherly hand on her shoulder. His touch was so
comforting. It was lovely to be held that way, and when he took her into the
bed, it just felt like a natural extension of his care. Amazingly, going to bed with Dan was nothing like being with
her step-father. As a child, she had equated sex with a dirty,
scary feeling. No
wonder ... Dan didn’t allow me to grow even into a teenger
before he began putting his filthy paws all over me! This,
however, was lovely, and sweet. In the morning, he woke her up early to tell her he was going.
“Hey, at the risk of getting that strange run-away look on your face again,
where were you yesterday when I got in? I was afraid you’d left.” She told
him about the job opportunity and about the lengths her manager had gone to
in order to ensure her employability. “It sounds like she liked you. You sure she’s not gay?”
Laughing, Charla said, “That’s one thing I have
never dealt with so far -- gay romantic attentions. She could see Dan
mentally filing that piece of information away. She sought to change his
focus. “I think I could handle myself if it came up. Don’t worry, Dan -- I’m
all yours.” His sigh when she said it raised a prickle of alertness inside
her, however. What had her words done? Her days went swiftly in the fast-paced restaurant,
and the clients were interesting and diverse. An occasional customer would
point her out and say distinctly, “She’s not old enough to be working during
school hours.” At first, her mouth would go dry and she might bend down to
pick up a fallen item just to keep her face from giving her away. Her
manager, however, would say, “I’ve seen her ID myself, and it’s a wonder that
she hasn’t been arrested for forgery with that face and such an early birth
date.” Then, patting her on the back, she’d send Charla
over to wash out some pots while she tended the register. After a while, Charla got the hang of it, and would instantly say, “Oh,
bless your heart—you are a dear. Next, you’re going to tell me you’re in
multi-level marketing.” It would gain her a laugh and defuse a potentially
disastrous situation. Dan came by every other week for a night or two. He
had tried to make trips back more regularly, but he insisted that if he was
going to keep her well, he’d have to work. Within days, he moved her into a
condo just a quarter mile from her store, and he brought her a shiny blue
bike to make the trip faster in the slowly warming weather. “I can’t believe
you can’t drive. Goodness, I’d rather buy you a good, safe car.” She smiled
and accepted the changes, calling him her “Sugar Daddy,” and thoroughly
enjoying his visits. Charla soon discovered that Dan was
a source of knowledge. He knew the history and geography of places all over
the country, and he kept her mind active by bringing her books and magazines
which helped her pass the time quickly. For the first time in her
life, Charla was looking forward to sexual intimacy,
too. It was an odd feeling, and she couldn’t help but feel very grateful to
Dan for this change. “I like going to bed with you,” she told him once. It made him
smile, and he mentioned quite humbly that he had never been accused of being
a Casanova. She didn’t mind, she answered. He was gentle and unselfish, and
that made all the difference. One day, Dan came home and found Charla
missing. Her clothes were all gone from the closet and she wasn’t home. He
began to get nervous, wishing he had a better way of keeping track of her. He
liked being her “sugar daddy,” as she called him, and he didn’t want to lose
this young thing that had made coming home a joy. He hadn’t told her, but Dan
had given up his apartment in Dan liked the feeling of coming back to Charla
all the time. It fed something inside him that he hadn’t known was hungry. As
he sat there waiting, he realized that if she was gone, he would suffer more
than he had expected. He decided that if she returned, he would propose to
her. The proposal was not as welcome as he might have
expected. At first, Charla looked as if she didn’t
know what to do. She couldn’t marry Dan, she realized. She had just turned
seventeen. When she and Dan had gotten together, she had been looking for a
place to sleep and food to eat -- not lasting love. Everything was fine the
way it was. She told him all but the truth about her age. Dan dropped his
gaze, suddenly realizing that he had made a mistake. “You don’t love me?” She
shook her head, sorry for the misery evident on his face. “I didn’t lie to you. I just didn’t know what you
were thinking or I’d have set you straight. I’m so sorry, Dan.” He didn’t
speak, but he turned and left. Charla was miserable about having
hurt Dan. Further, she knew he wouldn’t be back, and she was even sorrier for
that. Having Dan had been like feeling a father’s love for the first time in
her life. It was sick and twisted -- she knew it -- but she had always been
grateful to him for his kindness. Now, she had lost that. For days, Charla was lonely and sad.
Eventually, the nightmares about her stepfather returned. Unsure what to do,
she considered contacting Dan. Still, even if she could find him through his
trucking company, she decided it was better to stay away from him. He, of all
people, had the power to enslave her with love -- a miserable state of
servitude and constant misery. Still, she determined, she would avoid spending her nights
alone as much as possible. She met Ryan at work. He was a quiet man who seldom spoke. His
quiet demeanor and respectful speech attracted her right away. Another plus,
as far as she was concerned, was his age. He was 44, which suited her
perfectly. Charla had been learning the basics
of cooking cinnamon crispas when she looked up and
saw Ryan watching her. She smiled at him and turned away, sure that he would
walk over and say something. She was not disappointed. His comment about her “natural skill” for frying and dusting
the triangles was not unique, but his smile seemed genuine. Remembering how
lonely the previous month without Dan had been, Charla
decided to give this guy a chance. Within a week, she had invited him over to
her condo. Charla still couldn’t get over the
fact that she now had her own place. The apartment had been paid up for a year, she discovered when she went to pay the monthly
rent. This news had floored, Charla, who had felt
deserted by Dan when he left. She received the receipt in the mail a few days
later, confirming that he paid the rent only after he walked out on her.
Apparently, he had deemed it just, and without any other experience with
honorable people, Charla decided it must be right.
She decided to just enjoy her last gift from Dan and to save money for a
future home. The day she had left with her clothes, Charla had given everything she owned to a thrift store
and purchased a whole new wardrobe. The clothing, all bought for her by her
step-father, had become a bitter reminder of her past, so she had decided to
begin her new life with a new look. The styles she purchased made her look
older, a bit more like the 21 years her just-arrived birth certificate said
she was. It was nice to finally be settled and to dress in something
she bought herself. That must have been why it was so hard to think of
undressing with Ryan. Finally, he left, assuring her that he didn’t mind
waiting for a while and letting her get used to him. She, however, broke it
off the next day, admitting to him that she couldn’t see it working between
them. The following week, she met Mitch. He was
thirty-three and just divorced. He looked at her the way Dan had, but she
immediately warned him that she wasn’t the falling-in-love type. “That’s
okay, honey. I’ll do all the falling, you can hold me up.” His humor warmed
her, and she invited him to her place. The moment they got in the
door, however, she knew it wasn’t going to happen. Clasping a small cylinder hidden in the folds of her floppy
purse, she told Mitch it had been a mistake. He left, never guessing that she
had been about to use mace on him. After a while, it was becoming abundantly clear that not just
any man would do. In addition, she was beginning to see that bringing
strangers home didn’t feel right, either. Still, she was lonely, and she
wasn’t about to quit her search. In fact, on the very night she reached this
decision, Charla decided that couldn’t take another
night alone. She finally came to the conclusion that she could get a night job, one that would allow her access to the types of guys
who could hook up with her but wouldn’t burden her with the idea of love. On her way back home, she was riding her bike past an exotic
dancing café, when she decided to stop. “Hey, you’re not old enough to be in
here.” Smiling her most charming smile, she said in sugary tones, “Why bless
your heart, Darling. I like it when men flatter me so well. Now, where can I
see someone about dancing?” By the time she finished her speech, he
was practically salivating. She had her next sugar daddy, if she so desired. Still, she decided, if she worked here, she shouldn’t be
spending any alone time with the help. It might cause problems later when she
moved on to the customers. So she tossed her head and went to the office door
he showed her. “You know how to lap dance?” the boss said. Shaking
her head in a way she remembered that Dan found arousing, she said, “Nope,
but I can learn. Teach me?” With this, she straddled his lap. Groaning, he
smiled at her. “Oh, yeah, let’s get Betty to train you before I stain my silk
pants, okay?” She nodded, laughter in her eyes.
Client number two—this should be easy! Getting men to take her to bed was easy, but she soon learned to make some requests ahead of
time. When she drew the guidelines and enforced her rules, she found the
nights passed pleasurably enough. When she had decided not to take her visitors home, she
decided upon the cheap motel Dan had used with her on their first night in
town. It was a busy place and the patrons were all passing through. She
rented a room and prepared it with a change of clothes and all her
necessities. Then, she spent her first night there alone, just to test it
out. The first night, she heard lots of noise in the room next
door. Apparently, truckers were already using the motel for the same purpose.
She would blend right in. The next morning, as she was coming out of the room, she ran
into an enormous man. He looked like a professional wrestler, but he hunched
and backed away as if he might be mentally challenged. “Oh, s-s-s-s-sssssssssorry.” His words appeared to come painfully, so
she nodded so that he wouldn’t have to speak again. As she began walking again, she heard him say, “Y-y-y-you nnnneeeeed help with any-any-anything?” She smiled and
waved, “Nope, I’m fine.” That night, her date attacked her, and when she
flailed an arm against the wall, there came an
almost instantaneous knock on the door. “M-mmm-mmm-mmisssss?” She banged
harder, and the door flew open. The maintenance man walked inside covering
his eyes, but while he shielded himself from the sight of Charla’s
undressed body, he pinned the man with his eyes. “Y-y-youuuu
are hURTing her!” His
stutter seemed to improve with his growing rage, and his hands proved swift. Grabbing the man by the arm, he hauled him out the door and
proceeded to kick him repeatedly in the groin. Only when Charla
requested that he stop did he leave the naked man alone. Then, he gently led Charla, who was now dressed again, back into the room,
locking the door. Charla should have been scared,
because this man had locked them into a room together after showing how deadly
his anger could be, but Charla didn’t feel any
fear. She hugged him and said, “Thank you for helping me. I was glad for your
assistance.” He nodded. Then, rather than walk away, as she had expected, her rescuer
drilled her with his surprisingly piercing stare and said, “D-d-d-don’t berrrrring any mo-mo-morrre
m-m-mennn her-r-re.” She shook her head. “I can’t
promise that. I want to date men and bring them here. That’s why I rented
this place.” The man was now in a moral dilemma. He didn’t want to see her
in that situation, but he clearly understood that she would be gone forever
if she stopped coming. He nodded. “Then y-y-you c-c-c-c-c-c-al-call me
w-w-w-w-w-when y-y-you n-n-need mmmmmeeee.” She
agreed and it was settled. Things were finally looking up. She had good friends at work
in Taco With his help, though, after a while, she improved. It got to
be a routine with them that one her days off, she would call Tommy and hang
out with him, then meet a date so that she’s have someone with her in the
darkness of night. Her dates were customers from her dancing job, and they
seemed overjoyed when they were chosen, even after it got around that she
dated them all. Her boss, however, began complaining. “Hey, you’re taking all
the clients to bed and it’s beginning to look like I’m running a sex racket
running out of my cafe. You have to stop it, or I’ll have the police in
here.” She promptly quit her job, and he changed his mind. “You’re solid gold, Liverine, I’d be crazy to let you go. But please try to be more
discreet.” She laughed, agreeing gladly. For a moment, she had been afraid
that more lonely nights would follow. On a Tuesday evening, Charla had the
night off from her second job. That was fine with her, since she had lined up
a date for the night already. She was making so much money from tips that she
could afford to rent a room at the same hotel that Dan had first taken her
to, so clients no longer knew where she lived. On this night, she took a
light bag of clothing and supplies before she shut the door and left her
room. When she got to the hotel where they had planned to
meet for dinner, her date didn’t look very hungry. When he suggested they
leave, she decided to follow his lead. She could always order room service
later, she decided. She liked to allow a man’s natural excitement to set the
mood, though not if he became overwhelming and pushy. In the room, he was very romantic, and somewhat shy.
She had a lovely night and felt as if it had been one of the best. In the
morning, her date said to her, “Thanks for making my first time so special.
I’ll always remember you.” With a gasp, Charla realized what
she had done, and she was cut to the quick. During the past months,
as she had danced nude before men and slept with one guy after another, she
had convinced herself that these people would have been like that with or
without her help, so she had never felt as if she were corrupting anyone but
herself. Tonight, suddenly saw herself in her dirt and shame, and she began
to cry. Charla’s shame went deeper than the
knowledge that she had done harm to an innocent young man. It somehow
encompassed everything she had been through in her life. She realized that it
didn’t even stop with Dan. He had been in love with her and she had been
content to offer him empty sex. No
wonder he had been hurt. She was truly vile, Charla realized. Still weeping, she dressed
herself and prepared to leave. The young man, however, stopped her. “Hey,
wait a minute. Something’s really wrong here, isn’t it?” Suddenly, he didn’t look like the virgin he had been at the
start of the evening. In fact, he now appeared to be totally in his element
for the first time all night. Sighing, he asked her to sit down. He had a
confession to make, he told her. “I’m in no position to judge you for anything, so don’t feel
bad on my behalf. I knew what I was
doing was wrong. In fact, I feel like this is my fault. Still, I hope that somehow I can make it up to you by
sharing what I know.” Charla looked at her cell phone,
which had begun to ring, but he asked her not to take the call. She nodded
and slipped it in her bag. “Listen, I have to get home,” Charla
said. “I’m sorry I broke down like that. It’s not your fault. It’s nobody’s
fault. It’s just the way life is sometimes -- sometimes it brings a lot of
pain.” Standing up to leave, she was stopped by a look of pure
radiance on the man’s face. It was then that she realized that she had slept
with him without even getting a name. She had no idea what to call him. He
began to speak. “My name is Reuben, and though it may not have been evident by
my behavior today, I am a Christian. I did something totally out of character
for me -- I decided to lose my virginity for my thirtieth birthday. I knew it
was wrong, and I didn’t care. And now I’ve hurt someone else by my
foolishness. I’m sorry.” He interrupted her murmur of disagreement with a
sigh. “I think you’re trying to defend me and blame
yourself, but I know God, and I have served him from my youngest days. I knew
better than to engage in this type of behavior. I have never done it before
because I valued God more than my own desires. Today, I put God last, and I
have paid for it in seeing the pain I caused you.” Though she held up her hand, he continued speaking. “I’m
sorry. I truly am.” Charla nodded,
finally understanding. This young man was a preacher. She had defiled a preacher. She should feel worse,
but suddenly, she didn’t care about casting blame. “What can I do to be like you -- on
your good days, I mean.” That made him laugh, and he spoke easier. His
explanation of Jesus’ death for her sins was clear. Her understanding of her
sinful nature was equally clear. Yet he said that he had sinned before he
ever touched a woman, and that he wanted to help her to see that it was not
just what she did that made her a sinner, but who she was inside. “You were born in sin, and you will continue to fail all your
life. I’m a living example of that. But you can be free. You can be forgiven,
as many times as it takes, while you push through the muck of this world and
make it your goal to come out clean.” She smiled. Yes, pushing through muck
sounded lovely. Charla prayed with Reuben, who she
later discovered was a Christian Jew. Charla hadn’t
known such a thing existed. When they finished praying, Charla
felt brand new -- and lighter. Reuben smiled and said, “It’s amazing, but
that’s exactly how it feels, every time, when you receive the Lord’s
forgiveness.” He marveled at how God had turned even his mistakes into a
miracle, as he put it. She smiled. Charla left the motel and told the
owner she would no longer need the room. She said goodbye to her muscle-bound
friend, Tommy, who looked like he might cry. She thanked him for his
protection, adding that she wasn’t going to have any more boyfriends now. Tommy looked radiant, especially when she invited him over for
a spaghetti supper at her condo the following week. “For now, I have to make
some changes, so I won’t be hanging around right away.” He smiled and agreed,
saying in his painful stutter. “I’mmmmmm so
g-g-g-glad that y-y-you arrre leaving.” She knew
what he meant, and she smiled. On the way home, Charla fished out
her cell phone. She had come on foot, so she used the headlights of passing
cars to check the messages. Right away, she heard Dan’s voice, calling from When Charla got to the condo, Dan
was already there, sitting on the front step. “How’d you make it so fast?” He
laughed. “So fast? Since I called, it’s been six hours!” Suddenly shy, she
waited to see what he would say. Not reaching for her as he had in the past,
he simply stared. “I’m sorry for being gone so long,” he said. Charla searched his face and said, “You’ve found God,
too?” His nod was quick, and he reached for her hands. “Just today.” Smiling,
she echoed, “Yup, today.” They hugged, not as lovers or friends, but as
brother and sister in the faith. Then, Dan said, “Have you eaten?” She shook
her head and followed him to his rig. “I don’t suppose we could take my bike?” He laughed. “Nope.” At
a roadside truck stop, Charla found it painful, but
surprisingly easy to tell Dan about the previous eleven months. He listened
without judgment, adding at the end, “You know, I was in love with you, but
never faithful. I slept with women all over. But coming home to you was the
highlight of my life.” Smiling, she admitted, “I was faithful to you while we were
together, at least in body. But I didn’t love you.” He bent forward as if
stabbed. “That was simply cruel,” he said. She laughed. “But true.” Dan stayed two days—his entire leave -- and slept
both days at the motel, where he met Tommy. Two men
who had nothing in common, for they were from different backgrounds, races,
and lifestyles, became fast friends through a mutual love of Charla. For the two days, Dan never once tried to touch her, but
reminded her that he loved her all the time, and that now with Christ’s help,
he would wait for her. Then, surprising her yet again, he said on their last
day together, “Today’s my birthday.” Charla
immediately called her manager. Charla talked first about her
experience with God, and Sammie, her manager, sounded happy. She told Charla that she was a Christian and had been praying for
her and for Dan, all along. She had known about Charla’s
wasteful life and had sorrowed at the futility of it all. Now, however, she
was overjoyed to help Charla set up a small
birthday party at the condo for him -- in less than two hours. Sammie and Charla sang to
Dan, who eventually joined in the singing, bowing and congratulating himself
on turning 27. “You’re 27?” Both women said in amazement. He laughed,
“Happens every time. Women see the gray hair and think I’m ancient.” Sammie tried to deflect it by adding, “Well, you have that
smoky deep voice, as well -- and a wide body like a
man over 40.” Dan laughed and Sammie began to blush, realizing that she had
only added insult to injury. “I’ll shut up, now,” she said. Charla simply stared. “You’re 27 --
that means that you’re nine years older than I am.” He stared back. That was
the first time that Charla had ever revealed her
true age. “You were seventeen?” Shaking her head, Charla
admitted, “Sixteen. We were together during my seventeenth birthday, but
since it’s different from the one on my license, I couldn’t tell anyone.” Dan took a moment to absorb this information, then
he swept it under the flood that had cleansed every other sin. He reminded
himself that the blood of Jesus could erase any deed and said, “So now that
you’re 18, will you be Charla again?” She nodded. “Yes, I guess it’s time to get back to my true identity. I’m
pretty sure my mom will give me my birth certificate now.” He said, “I’ll
take you. I’m heading up to Sammie had agreed to everything, but now she said,
“Given your history, do you think so much time alone is wise?” Dan laughed.
“Don’t you worry, Sammie. I’ll have her there this
evening and check her into a different hotel room from mine. I won’t take any
chances with cargo this precious.” Charla felt her heart race,
wondering what that was about. She shouldn’t be having these feelings for Dan
-- she never had in the past. Finally it dawned on her to remember what
Reuben, the virgin preacher, had told her, “All things are become new.” This
new beginning might bring any number of changes. “You wanna get married?”
Dan asked on the way to “Okay, then, when should we get married?” He smiled, but he
looked ill-at-ease. “You’re not kidding -- just going along with a supposed
joke, are you -- because I’m deadly serious.” She
looked at him as earnestly as she could without crying. “Let’s get married,
Dan.” When they pulled up in front of her mother’s house, Charla shuddered. “What went on in there, Charla?” Dan didn’t wait for her to answer, but got out
of the truck and opened her door. “I want to do this right,” Dan said, “so let’s face your
family together.” She held his hand tightly, glad for the support that she
hadn’t expected. Somehow, knowing that he had a run to make in an hour, she
had expected him to leave, but Dan told her that he wasn’t about to abandon
her to face whatever had made her shudder. He would walk with her, just as
God was now walking with them, he said. Charla’s stepfather opened the door
and her throat went dry. Facing the man squarely, Dan said, “Hello, Sir. Is
your wife here?” When the man nodded and answered politely, Charla was afraid that Dan would be swayed by the man’s
charms. She needn’t have worried. In his travels, Dan had met enough snakes
to make cautious. While he grinned politely and allowed himself to be led to the
sofa, Dan wondered at the polished exterior of this family’s life. He was
sure that there must be more beneath the surface, or Charla
would not be so uncomfortable about returning to them. Not to mention the
fact that she had been willing to sleep with strangers to get away from these
people. When the man left, he looked at her and said, “Don’t worry.
God is with us. Right will win out.” Drawing strength from his confidence, Charla stretched up and straightened her posture, ready
to face whatever lay ahead. Yes, with God and with Dan, Charla
realized, she believed that they could handle anything. t t
t t t t t t
t |
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For now, this is the end. It is my
hope that you might find your way to the God who is always there -- and who
never fails. ~Pneuma
Sender~ |
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