White Lines

by Tracy Brown

  Once she was down there, Jada saw another young lady. Judging from the pipe the white girl puffed on eagerly, she was a young lady with a crack habit to support. Just like Jada. Between hits, the white chick introduced herself. “My name is Cara.” She had shoulder-length red hair and pretty green eyes. Her clothes looked cheap and raggedy, but her beauty couldn’t be denied. What cracked Jada up was that when she opened her mouth she sounded like a black girl from around the way.

  “This is your first time?” Cara asked.

  Jada nodded, feeling a little like a fish out of water.

  Cara smiled. She had a smile that would light up a room. “You’ll get used to it real quick.” Cara was very animated and energetic. She didn’t mince words, and she told Jada point-blank that she loved to suck dick, and she was good at it. “That’s my claim to fame. I can even teach you how to do it.”

  Cara proceeded to do just that. Using an empty bottle of Poland Spring water, she demonstrated her techniques. While Jada sat in the basement getting high, Cara launched into step-by-step instructions on how to make any man holla. She made no apologies for her addiction, nor for her means of supplying herself with cocaine. Cara had no shame.

  When Jada was sufficiently high, she went back upstairs to find Kelly. She found her standing with a man who looked like he was about fifty years old. He wasn’t very handsome, but he wasn’t exactly ugly, either. He had a medium build and graying hair. But he seemed nice enough, and he didn’t smell bad. But he did smell old. Like Old Spice. Kelly showed Jada and the man into one of the empty rooms and closed the door behind her as she left. Jada was all alone with the stranger who would usher her into the world of prostitution.

  He sat down on the edge of the bed, and smiled at her. “You’re really pretty,” he said.

  “Thanks.” Jada was high, and fidgeting. She plucked at imaginary lint on her shirt, and her eyes darted back and forth between her clothes and the man sitting on the bed.

  “Can I see you?’’ he asked.

  Jada didn’t know what he meant, and the confusion was evident on her face.

  “Take off your clothes,” he clarified.

  Jada began to oblige him, unbuttoning her shirt swiftly.

  “Slowly,” the man said. “Do it slowly.”

  Jada looked at him. She was disappointed that he wasn’t going to be quick about it. He wanted to see her—all of her. She undressed awkwardly, knowing that this was a moment she would never forget. Somehow this was different from Mr. Charlie and his friend. Charlie was familiar. He was always the common denominator. This time, with this man, she was all on her own. Selling herself. This whole situation was blowing her high. Slowly she undid the buttons on her blouse. She took it off, and laid it on the chair next to the bed. Then she slowly peeled off her jeans and stood before the man with only her bra and panties on. As she reached to remove her underwear, he stopped her.

  “Come here,” he said.

  Jada obliged, and walked over to him. He sat before her and began to rub his hands across her body. Jada felt awkward with such an older man touching her this way. But she didn’t stop him. She was high, and she retreated into that safe place in her head. The place where she didn’t have to be Jada and face all the consequences of her actions. She didn’t have to dwell on the guilt she felt without the drugs. Jada drifted into a zone, somewhere her body never mattered. The man exploring her body didn’t bother her anymore. He rubbed her breasts and fingered her pussy for a few long moments. Then he finally got undressed himself and asked her very politely to suck his dick. Jada was dreading that request, but she did as she was asked. The whole time she did it, he rubbed her breasts and called her “Sugar.” She had never felt so dirty in her life. She felt like she was sucking her grandfather’s dick. Jada’s high was being challenged by her pride, and she realized then that she would need to be someone else in her head. She pretended she was a porn star. She had the cameras set up around her and everything, all inside her head. She gave that man the best head he had ever experienced in his life. When his dick was rock hard in her mouth, he laid her down and climbed on top of her. He entered her slowly and proceeded to hump and sweat all over her, moaning in her ear. She thought about getting high again and how good it would feel. She thought about having money of her own and not having to ask Mr. Charlie for it. These were the things that motivated her to keep quiet while the old man pounded away at her young pussy. When he was close to cumming, Jada could tell by the increase in his pace and in the volume of his moaning. Before she knew what had happened, his old ass had pulled out of her, and he spilled his seed all over her face. Jada was mortified. With cum dripping from her lips and nose, she stumbled out of the room naked and ran to the bathroom to clean herself off. She shut the door behind her, slid to the floor, and cried. She felt so unclean, and so worthless. She stayed in there for several minutes, trying to pull herself together. Her high was officially over, and reality had hit her like a brick. She had nothing left. Not even her pride. Jada wept quietly until the tears dried up. When she emerged and went back into the room, the man was gone. Instead, Kelly sat on the edge of the bed, looking at her coldly.

  “The next time you run out on a client like that, I’m not paying you,” she said. “Do you understand?”

  Jada nodded, amazed by Kelly’s lack of compassion. Then Kelly stood up and walked out of the room without another word. Jada sat alone, and thought about leaving. She could leave and get clean, and never have to worry about having strangers inside of her, raw, for no more than a couple of rocks and a warm room. It didn’t have to be like this, she reasoned. But if she left, Jada wondered where she could go. She couldn’t go back to her mother. Edna would turn her away, and the pain of that would be too much to bear. Ava was doing better for herself and didn’t need Jada’s troubles weighing her down. There was no one else. No one who could help her find the strength to leave the drugs alone.

  Ten minutes later Jada got another client. This time she did what was required of her without reacting to the discomfort she felt. She simply found a way to step outside of her body until the client was through with it. At the end of the night she got her fix from Kelly, along with her money, and she went downstairs with Cara. The two of them got high and exchanged stories. It was a relief to meet someone who understood her pain and her struggles. Jada laughed with Cara, and they talked until they were both exhausted. And for a little while, Jada was free of the guilt and the shame.

  9

  CHANGING FACES

  Jada went to Kelly’s brothel every night for two hours. She would see as many men as Kelly sent to her room. Some nights it was one or two. Other nights it was as many as five. Jada learned to put on a make-believe identity. She wasn’t Jada while she was with these men. She was “Melissa.” And when Melissa was working, Jada was nowhere around. Melissa was fearless, and there was nothing she wouldn’t do for a fast buck. Melissa was all about the Benjamins.

  On one occasion Kelly sent a couple to Jada’s room. A black man and a white woman. They looked normal, but what they wanted to do was something outside of Jada’s comfort zone. She almost said no, but she needed the money in order to feed her habit. So she called on her alter ego, and handled her business. The guy sat and watched while Jada gave the woman oral sex. When the woman spread her legs and put her pink pussy in Jada’s face, Jada thought she might throw up. She held her breath and licked it gingerly at first. While she did it, the man rubbed all over Jada and caressed her body. She felt disgusting with the woman’s pussy in her face, as she moaned and pulled Jada’s hair softly. Jada felt like it went on forever, but she didn’t dare stop out of fear that if she didn’t get the woman to climax she wouldn’t get paid. It was all a means to an end for Jada.

  Once the woman had a very loud orgasm, they informed her that it wasn’t over yet. The woman joined Jada on her knees, and the two of them sucked him off. The man was in ecstasy, as Jada and the woman’s tongues mingled in a serenade to his big dick. When they
were done, the man left to go and get their car, while the woman fixed her clothes and put on her shoes.

  “You can call me if you ever need to make some extra cash,” the lady said to Jada. She handed her two crumpled ten-dollar bills and a piece of paper with her phone number on it. “Next time, we don’t have to invite him.” The woman winked, and Jada felt nauseous.

  Jada thanked her, and told her that she would call. But she knew in her heart that no matter how low she sank, she would not resort to giving another woman head ever again.

  There was another guy who Kelly sent to Jada, and it wasn’t long before he became a regular. He told Jada that he was a movie producer, although she wasn’t sure that she believed him. He did wear some expensive watches, and his shoes looked like they cost a fortune. He told her that he lived in a pricey condominium overlooking the water. Jada wondered why a successful man with so much money would want to fuck a crackhead for a couple of dollars. But it wasn’t just the sex. He liked Jada to do really kinky shit to him, and he just loved to be dominated. Jada spanked him, peed on him, spit on his face while she rode him, and all sorts of twisted activities.

  Surprisingly, she actually enjoyed herself with him from time to time, because he made her feel powerful. She spent most of her time feeling weak and powerless against her addiction. So being with the skinny, kinky white man was a nice change of pace. He always gave her money, even though the procedure was that he paid Kelly before he even got to Jada’s room. But no matter what, when they were finished with one of their erotic episodes, the man always pressed a twenty-dollar bill into Jada’s palm.

  Jada didn’t question the money Kelly gave her at the end of the night. She would get fifty dollars, sixty dollars, sometimes more. As long as she made enough to stay high and buy something to eat, Jada didn’t complain. But after a month or so, that began to diminish, becoming twenty dollars, thirty, dollars. Then, the before and after crack vials that Kelly once supplied Jada with each night became a thing of the past. Jada was starting to notice that she was being played.

  There were a few other girls who worked for Kelly. Cara was one of them, but there were a number of others who seemed to work in shifts. All of them were battling addictions in various stages. One was a black girl who didn’t talk to anyone without a scowl or a sneer. Jada didn’t like her, didn’t trust her, and made a point of not interacting with her if she could help it. Another was a Hispanic girl with terrible acne and a thick accent. She was nasty, and Jada could often hear her moaning and cursing through the walls that separated their rooms.

  But Cara was someone who Jada grew to like a lot. She talked to Jada whenever the two of them were waiting for dates. And to Jada’s astonishment, Cara’s interaction with Mr. Charlie had been eerily similar to Jada’s own.

  The two of them discussed it one night after they’d both finished their work for the night. Jada was telling Cara how much Charlie had helped her out, and she was surprised that Cara didn’t feel the same way.

  “Charlie and Kelly are full of shit,” she said. “I didn’t realize it until I got in too deep with them to get out. But all they care about is themselves.”

  Jada frowned, wondering what she meant by that. “What makes you feel like that?”

  Cara shook her head and exhaled the smoke from her Newport. “My mother was a dope fiend, and Charlie used to supply her habit. I was little then. Nine or ten years old. My moms was strung out, but she wanted more than that for me. She tried to make me do good in school, and she always wanted me to stay out of trouble. But I was hardheaded and rebellious. All the kids at school made fun of my cheap clothes and my mother with the toothless grin. By the time I was thirteen, I had a habit of my own. Charlie knew about it, but he kept my secret. He didn’t tell my mother about it, and I was grateful. Then my moms OD’d, and I was left behind. After her overdose, Charlie let me stay with him. He didn’t force me to go to school, and he supplied my habit. It wasn’t long before our relationship turned physical. And then came Kelly, with her plan for me to make money. I’ve seen so many other girls come through here with the same story that I finally realized that this shit is Charlie and Kelly’s hustle. They don’t care about us girls. They use us to get what they want. Them crooks haven’t paid me right in years. But they know my time has passed. I don’t look like I used to, and I only have an eighth-grade education. So now I’m stuck. And they know it. So it is what it is.”

  As Cara told Jada all about Kelly and Mr. Charlie, it all began to make sense to her. She had been manipulated into a life that Cara said was a dead-end street. Jada thought about her mother and about how Charlie had helped her hide her addiction. She had been grateful to him for not telling her mother. She wondered now if he had been helping her after all.

  “I’ve been working for Kelly for four years,” Cara said. “Still I have no money saved, no place to go, and the little family that I have left disowned me because of the drugs.” Cara paused, and seemed pained by the truth in her statement. “I would stop fuckin’ for Kelly and Charlie if I could, Jada,” Cara said, sadly. “But I don’t want to go back out there on my own. I got no family, no friends. I’m not kicking this habit. And I know I’m not. But you could do it if you wanted to.” She smiled at Jada. “You’re too young and too pretty to keep selling your pussy for crack.”

  Jada began to realize that as long as she kept dealing with Mr. Charlie and Kelly she would be in an endless cycle of tricking to feed her habit. Cara was proof of that.

  Still Jada kept getting high. Charlie was still fucking her and giving her money, though not as much as before. But after listening to how Charlie and Kelly had manipulated her into this lifestyle, Jada made up her mind that one day she would leave. She had no place to go, no plan, and very little money. But she knew she didn’t want to fuck Mr. Charlie anymore. And if she wasn’t fucking him, she knew he wouldn’t let her stay in his house. So Jada started sleeping at the boardinghouse where she met her tricks. But that wasn’t safe, and she hated sleeping in the same room where she had fucked all those men. She started going back to Brooklyn to stay with the friends she still had out there, sleeping on her friends’ couches when she could. Shante got probation for her shoplifting charge, and since she was back in the hood, Jada crashed at her house a lot. Shante’s mother didn’t like Jada, though. So Shante had to sneak her into her room when her mother was asleep. Whenever she wasn’t high, Jada fell further and further into depression and self-loathing.

  One night Jada lay in her room at Kelly’s brothel, crying herself to sleep. She had just spent a night of humiliating sex with three undesirable men—the kind of men Kelly had promised Jada she would never send to her room. One smelled like a distillery. Another looked like King Kong. Then, finally, Kelly had sent a middle-aged man to Jada’s room who called her every degrading name imaginable while he ravaged her. His words had cut Jada like a million knives and made her feel like the lowest scum on the face of the earth. As she lay in the cum-stained bed, Jada made up her mind to quit. No amount of money was worth feeling as low-down and disgusting as she felt at that moment. Jada got up and went to get her last little bit of money. She walked downstairs and found Kelly in the foyer, counting money.

  “Kelly,” she called to her.

  Kelly turned around, stuffing the fistful of cash into her pocket. “What’s the matter Jada?” she asked.

  Jada shrugged, avoiding Kelly’s gaze. “I think this is gonna be my last night. I can’t come back here anymore to sell my ass. Each time I leave here, I feel lower and lower. And pretty soon no amount of getting high is going to be able to cover up how bad I feel about myself. I think this is it for me.”

  Kelly calmly looked at Jada and nodded, understanding. Then Kelly reached into her pocket and handed Jada a ten-dollar bill. Jada stood with her hand outstretched, waiting for more. She had just seen Kelly shove a knot of bills into her pocket. When Jada saw that Kelly wasn’t about to give up any more dough, she thought about the three men who had just hum
ped and sweated all over her, smelling musty and disgusting, and she flipped out.

  “What the fuck is this?” Jada demanded. “I know you’re not giving me no muthafuckin’ ten dollars after I just laid upstairs and fucked three men—”

  Kelly didn’t bat an eyelash. “You’re free to go now, Jada. You don’t bring in the kind of money that you used to bring in anyway. That ten dollars is the last money you’ll be getting from me.”

  “Kelly, I know you must be joking. You can’t be serious.” Jada stood open-mouthed, shocked that Kelly would treat her this way after all the work Jada had put in for her.

  Kelly just looked at Jada blankly and shrugged her shoulders.

  “You fuckin’ bitch! You old, washed-up, beat-up bitch!” Jada was infuriated. Kelly smirked at her. Cara and the scowling black girl emerged from their rooms to see what all the commotion was about. From where they stood it looked as if Jada was losing control while Kelly was cool as a cucumber.

  Jada took a deep breath, made her voice calm and soft, and said, “You seem like a smart woman, Kelly. Charlie calls you his wife, but why do you think he fucks all of us? Because your pussy is dry and your sex is whack, that’s why. Has he ever told you that my pussy is better than yours? ‘Cause that’s what he told me. He told Cara that, too.” Jada paused, smirking. “You can have your fuckin’ ten dollars. You know why? ‘Cuz all I gotta do is go back to Charlie and let him hit this pussy one more time. I’ll be running his old ass pockets again in no time!”

  Kelly felt anger building inside her. She knew that Charlie had a weakness for young pussy. Charlie liked to pretend that he was just trying the young girls out to set them out on the track. But she knew that was bullshit, and that he really loved sexing young girls. Charlie would hit it again if he could, and this enraged Kelly. So she did the only thing that came to mind. She hauled off and punched Jada dead in her face. Jada stumbled back, but quickly recovered and came at the older woman like a cat. To Jada’s surprise, Kelly was strong. She tore Jada’s shirt off, and Jada fought the old bitch bare-chested. Then Kelly whipped out a razor and began to cut Jada’s torso all up. She left one big gash right down the center of Jada’s chest and a couple of other cuts and scrapes across her upper body. Jada just kept on coming. But before Cara and the scowling girl could pull Kelly and Jada apart, Jada came away with half of the knot of cash that Kelly had in her pocket. Cara peeped this, and quickly pulled Jada outside and covered her with her jacket.