The Preacher's Daughter (12 page)

"Lost?" he asked as he rolled down his window. "It's not safe to be walking on this highway, young lady. You could get hit."

Naomi took a tentative step over to the car and looked inside. It was tidy. An air freshener in the shape of a pine tree hung from the rearview mirror.

"Yeah, I know," she said. "I normally wouldn't do this but a friend was supposed to give me a ride to the bus station but never showed and I can't afford a cab."

He nodded sympathetically.

"Well you don't want to take risks if you don't need to. I'm going that way. You want a ride?"

Naomi smiled. "Sure."

She got good vibes from the man and slid into the front seat without hesitation.

"So where you from?"

"Clarksville," she lied.

"What do you do?"

"I'm a student." It was a safer answer than waitress. If she'd said that he'd want to know where.

"Good," he said. "Education is really important. I was a principal for years."

Naomi felt herself sigh with relief. Good. That meant he was safe.

"So where you going?"

"Pennsylvania." It was the first thing off the top of her head. "To see my aunt."

He smiled at her. "I used to travel every summer by train when I was a boy to see my aunt and uncle in North Carolina. I cropped tobacco for ten hours a day. God, I hated it, but when I grew up I appreciated those summers working hard."

"I'm Kent, by the way. Kent Salisbury."

"Hi, Mr. Salisbury. I'm Chloe."

"Nice to meet you Chloe."

He looked at her and smiled again. Naomi could see her reflection in his glasses. Her face was smooth and relaxed. She was becoming a better liar.

The car turned off the exit. The bus station parking lot wasn't crowded, so Naomi was surprised when her good Samaritan pulled into a space several hundred yards from the front. Not that it mattered that much; she didn't mind walking.

"Thanks," she said, but just as she opened the door she felt his hand on her arm.

"Hey, beautiful. Not so fast. I know you're tight on money since you couldn't afford a cab, but that doesn't mean there's not other ways you can show your appreciation to a gentleman kind enough to offer you a ride."

His hand moved to his zipper and he grinned knowingly as he began to fish around inside his trousers for his penis.

"No," she said, "I don't think so."

But the grip on his arm was tight as she tried to pull away.

"Going to see your aunt. The hell you are," he said, grinning. "I can spot a little slut a mile away. What are you? Runaway? Prostitute? Druggie?"

"Fuck off," she said, and jerked hard this time, freeing her arm from his grip as she launched herself out of the car. "You fucking jerk. Let me guess. You went to church this morning, didn't you?"

"Yeah," he laughed. "I had to be there. I'm in the choir."

She shook her head. "God you're all alike."

"What do you care?" he asked. "Besides..." He began to stroke his flacid cock. "Don't you want to earn a little pocket money for your trip?"

"No thanks." She turned and jogged to the station, fighting the urge to throw up. So much for being a good liar.

The ticket was waiting for her at the window. Jasper had also wired her money at the Western Union office in the same building.

Naomi kept looking around, looking for signs of Kent Salisbury or for any other lecherous old men who might want to take advantage of her. The bus station was a great hunting ground for guys like that.

"Thanks," she muttered as she took the ticket.

The bus was just beginning to board. Naomi selected a seat towards the back and slumped down in it. She put her duffle bag in her lap and fished through it until she found her Walkman. Then she began to search for her cellphone.

"Damn."

She couldn't find it. Naomi began to panic. Jasper had told her to call him to let him know she'd picked up the ticket. She knew what he really wanted was some assurance that she wasn't getting cold feet or planning to double-cross him somehow.

"Where are you?" she asked, exasperated. As if the phone could hear her.

She took everything out, turned the bag inside out, searched the pockets of the bag, her pants, her purse, her jacket. No phone.

Now what? The bus was boarding. If she got off to use the payphone then it may leave without her. Naomi scanned the other passengers. Most of them looked grumpy. She'd at least let them get settled in before asking one if she could use their phone.

The door closed with a hiss and the engine rumbled to life. Naomi looked out the window as the bus pulled from the lot and merged onto the freeway. The road climbed and now they were on the overpass. She looked back and saw her neighborhood and the church in the distance. A little spotlight was trained on the steeple. The cross got smaller and smaller as the bus traveled until it disappeared.

She wiped a tear away from her face and turned on Slayer. The CD played a quarter of the way through before the battery in her walkman died.

She put her head down on the back of the seat and went to sleep.

The dream was pleasant.

Naomi was sitting at a picnic table under a huge willow tree. A warm breeze lifted the branches and dropped them back down, like fingers through hair. A pair of heavy chimes hung from one of the branches. The sound they made was melodious.

She wore a summery, long dress with a fitted top. It was bright blue. Her hair was loose.

"You look beautiful."

She looked up to see Eric standing in front of her.

"Eric!" She stood and walked into his embrace.

"I missed you," he said. "But I knew you'd come back."

"Of course you did. How could I stay away from the greatest guy in the world?"

He pushed her back a little.

"You should have known better than to have left, though. It's a dangerous world out there."

She looked down. "I know."

"I can't let this go unpunished."

He sat down on the edge of the picnic table. Naomi felt herself shudder as he pulled her across his lap.

"You know you need this," he said. "You know you need this to feel safe, to be safe."

He began to spank her, first over her dress and then over her panties as he raised the hem. She cried out - a little yelp for each smack. She bit her lip when the tempo of the spanks increased and began to cry softly.

But she did not fight. She'd been wrong to leave, and she deserved the punishment Eric was giving her.

When her bottom as red and sore he stood her up and pulled her to his chest she cried into his shoulder as he soothed her. Naomi felt grateful and protected and nurtured.

"I love you," she said.

"And I love you, too. And I promise to protect you from anything that would hurt you, and that includes yourself."

She clutched him and cried harder.

"Hey," he said. "Hey, hey..."

"HEY!"

She woke up with a start to find a young black man sitting beside her. His expression was concerned. He was shaking her shoulder. "Hey."

"You all right? You were crying."

Naomi sat up, hastily wiping her eyes. She felt embarrassed.

"Yeah," she said. "I'm fine. I just had a dream."

"Musta been some dream."

"Yeah."

"Name's Justin," the young man said. "You wouldn't happen to have a cigarette, would you?"

"No," she said. "But when we stop I'm going to get a pack. What kind do you smoke."

He laughed. "Damn girl, beggars can't be choosers. Whatever you're smoking. I wish I could buy some but I'm flat broke. But I got some Skittles if you're hungry."

"Skittles?" She sat up and smiled. "Sure."

He pulled a bag out of his pocket. "Here. Take as many as you want."

There was only half a bag left. It was probably all he had to his name. Naomi opened the bag, tipped it and took a small handful. Justin was the kind of kid that her father and other members of the church would look down on. And here he was sharing the last of his food with a stranger.

"Where you headed?" he asked.

"L.A."

"Yeah? Me too." He leaned back in the seat beside her. "My mom's in rehab. Again. My aunt just got out of the military. She wants me to come stay with her. Start college. Stuff like that."

"How old are you?" Naomi asked.

"Twenty," he said. "I finished high school but didn't go any further. May aunt, she's determined that somebody in our family besides her is going to make it out of the hood. She said I'm the best hope. I was a straight A student in school."

"If she's going to give you the opportunity then take it," Naomi said. "It's a wonderful thing to have people who believe in you. Even if it's just one. You're a lucky guy."

"You sound so sad when you say that," Justin said. "Don't you have anyone like that in your life?"

Naomi sighed. "I thought I did," she said. "But I was wrong."

"So you're going where? Back home?"

Naomi was quiet for a moment. "Yeah, I guess you could say that."

"I hope everything works out for you there."

"Yeah, me too."

The conversation died but Justin stayed in the seat beside Naomi until they came to their next stop. She bought two packs of cigarettes with the money Jasper had sent her - one for Justin and one for herself - as well as some snacks for the both of them.

Doing something for someone else helped remind Naomi of her worth as a person and not just as a dancer. Perhaps she was out of place in a church, but she wasn't out of place among people who cared. Even if she could touch one person's life, then it meant she mattered.

The journey continued, the scenery changed. The sun rose and set and rose and set and the bus continued on towards the west. Deciduous trees gave way to palms. The air became warm. The passengers became more eclectic.

Naomi looked at them and recognized herself in the naive, bright-eyed girls who boarded with hopeful expressions. She tried talking to several of them about the reality of L.A.

"Mind your own business," one girl snapped. Naomi went back to her seat and ate Skittles with Justin.

The trip ended all too soon. The bus station in LA was larger and busier than the one at home. Naomi got off the bus half-hoping Jasper would have gotten angry about not reaching her and decided not to pick her up.

No such luck. He was there, leaning against a column in the bus station. He was as handsome as ever, with the same disarming boyish charm.

"Welcome home."

He walked over and took her in his arms, kissing her full on the mouth. Naomi pushed him away and wiped her lips with the back of her hand. He laughed.

"What's the matter? Don't like being welcomed home?"

"This isn't home," she said. "And I don't like being kissed without permission."

"Said the girl who's going to be shaking her bare ass in some guy's face tonight."

Naomi whirled on him. "Now you listen, goddamnit. I may have come back but I swear, Jasper, if you don't lighten up I will take my ass and shake it in some other bar. Understand. And I don't care how much Pinnacle pays. It doesn't pay enough to put up with your shit."

He took her bag. "Touchy," he said. "Geesh."

She turned away, not looking at him. She knew if she did she'd only want to slap the smug expression on his face. She hated Jasper, hated the proprietary way he treated her, hated the dehumanizing way he treated all the dancers. He was nothing more than a flunky, a thug. But even he felt he was a cut above her.

"You carriage awaits, my lady," he said sarcastically as they arrived at his car.

She got in and lit a cigarette.

"No smoking in my ride," he said.

She took another drag, ignoring him. "Shut up, Jasper."

He grumbled something and started the car.

Yep. She was back. And she hated it. But she'd better get used to it. This was her new reality. Jasper would see to it.

But a thousand miles away someone was just as determined to win her back. For Eric had received a frantic early morning call from Naomi's mother and had gone over to the house right away.

"She's gone," Fred Kindle had announced. "Now what will people say."

He wanted to ask them why that even mattered as he walked down the hall to see for himself. Eric looked through her room for clues. And then he heard the beep of a cell phone about to run out of juice.

He picked it up and punched a button. The last text message popped up on the screen. L.A.

And a place called Pinnacle.

He would not tell her parents. Not yet.

"I need a couple of days off," he told Fred Kindle.

"Now? Why?"

"I'm sorry, Fred. I wouldn't ask if it weren't important. It's for personal reasons.

The preacher had sighed. With his daughter gone and the congregation asking questions he had enough on his mind without arguing with his youth minister.

"Sure," he said.

Eric thanked him and left to go home to pack a bag. He had to get to L.A. And fast.

Chapter Nine

"Hey girl!" Candy Watson ran over to Naomi, catching her in a tight embrace. Naomi caught the odor of sweat and cigarette smoke that clung to the girl's skimpy outfit. Funny how she'd never noticed in on her own clothes. After a while dancer's got immune to those sort of things, just as they got immune to the lustful glances and disrespectful taunts coming from the audience.

Candy pushed Naomi back and surveyed her from arm's length. "God, it is so damn good to have you back. The regulars still ask about you." She lowered her voice. "And just between you and me that new girl - Claire - she doesn't really seem to be into it like she should. Jasper said she just needs time, but I don't know..."

Naomi turned to see a girl sitting in front of the mirror. She was small and wore her dark, thin hair in pigtails.

"Jesus," Naomi said. "How old is she?"

"She told Jasper eighteen. And you know Jasper. He doesn't look at ID."

"He used to," Naomi said, unable to take her eyes off the girl.

"Not since Guys and Dolls opened down the street," Candy said.

"Guys and Dolls?"

"Yeah," Candy said. "New strip joint. They have ladies night every Wednesday with male dancers. The rest of the night is all girls and there are some pretty ones. Real pretty ones. We're losing customers. Randy's pissed. And he told Jasper to do two things - find some fresh meat. And get you back."