Awake Unto Me (5 page)

In the Grey Dog Saloon, no pretty waiter girl was more important to a party than Sally Jean Miller. She’d wandered into the place at sixteen after she was abandoned by her father, who had gone off to make his fortune in the Comstock Lode. Her mother had left long before she could remember. Rose gave her a place to stay. And work, of course. At twenty-nine she was still lovely: blond and plump and with a sharp wit, all of which made the customers think of her as a sweet, girl-next-door type, and virtually no one knew Minny was her daughter, they were so close in age.

It was her smile that gave away her true nature. When she smiled, it didn’t reach her eyes, which were hard, and flat, and soulless. But it didn’t matter to the Grey Dog customers. They wouldn’t care if a girl’s mother died or if her father had abandoned her. Her story didn’t matter, just what little reprieve she could offer from a harsh reality. Sally was starting to drink more, and Rose had chastised her more than once for being drunk and sassy when she was talking up customers, saying it could get her killed. She would pretend to listen, but said she didn’t have much to live for anyway, so she’d drink enough that pretending to be alive didn’t feel like such a giant lie.

Sally was lazing in bed on a Sunday morning because, although the Barbary Coast deadfalls stayed open all week, the girls weren’t required to work on Sundays since it was the only slow day of the week.

“Come on, girl, go downstairs and ask Leo for a glass of beer for me.”

“Leo won’t give me no glass of beer unless I pay for it,” Kerry said irritably. Sally had always ordered her around like an impatient older sister, and usually she just put up with it, but her mind was elsewhere and she had no time for Sally’s nonsense.

Sally was in her drawers, lying on the rickety single bed with one leg over the other and kicking her foot lazily. “Hey, Kerry-o, what’s the matter?”

Kerry’s back was to Sally as she pulled out the pieces of wood and added a few to the fire, but she turned around at the sound of Sally’s voice. She was wondering if Jack was going to crimp some men off the
Bangor
, the whaling ship from Maine, and if she could get in on the action. Since Addison had gone, Jack was crimping more to make money. Ignoring Sally, she turned back to the firewood.

“Kerry, come over here, girl. Or should I say boy?” Sally giggled.

Kerry turned around and frowned at Sally. “You can think what you like, Sal,” Kerry said. “I don’t care.”

“Oh, don’t be so mean. You do care, don’t you? Kerry, I’m sorry I teased you. C’mere and sit down.”

Sighing loudly, Kerry dumped the rest of the wood in the bin and sat down in the rickety chair next to Sally’s bed.

“Noooo, girl, sit here next to me.” Sally patted the bed. Kerry glared at her, not sure why the reference to her clothing bothered her. She still wore trousers and a cap and passed as a boy; she’d gotten used to it and it was easier than having the men bother her all the time. But she didn’t know how she thought of herself exactly. She was just who she was and Jack never mentioned anything. She couldn’t make out what Sally was up to, but she decided to find out and sat down on the bed.

“That’s better.” Sally was smiling and Kerry noticed Sally still had a good set of teeth, even if she only brushed them once in a while. Being this close to Sally when she was in her drawers made Kerry unaccountably nervous, although it never had before.

“You’re a good girl, aren’t you?”

“I’m not a…” Kerry said, flushing and looking at her boots.

“You almost said, ‘I’m not a girl,’ didn’t you?”

“No.”

“Yes. You did and I’m here to tell you, Kerry O’Shea, that you are indeed a girl.” Sally’s tone was light and mocking, but she didn’t sound as cruel as she was apt to be.

“It’s time to start acting like a girl. You’ll never make a good whore if you don’t have at least some wiles.”

“I ain’t never going to be a whore,” Kerry said, emphatically. The thought of lying with a man repelled her.

“You can’t go on crimping with Jack forever. They’ll know. You can’t hide it.”

“Yes, I can. The sailors are stupid and they get stupider when they get drunk.”

“You’re wrong. But let’s not fight. I didn’t call you over to fight.” Sally kept smiling at Kerry and kicking her foot lazily up and down.

Kerry looked at her quizzically. Sally never did the littlest thing without thinking hard about what would be to her benefit. She leaned forward suddenly and kissed Kerry on the mouth.

“What you do that for?” Kerry demanded. She very nearly wiped her mouth but stopped her hand in time. Her lips tingled.

“Just ’cause. I knew you’d like it.” She stared at Kerry and stroked her cheek with surprising gentleness. “You did like it, didn’t you?”

Kerry nodded, afraid to say it out loud. She had, in fact, liked it very much, which thrilled her and scared her in equal measure.

“Be a dear and go downstairs and get me a glass of beer. Get one for yourself. There’s some money on the dresser.”

When Kerry returned with the beer, Sally said, “Lock the door.” Kerry swallowed and did as she was told, knowing a locked door meant private business—the kind of business the whores did with the customers. She knew the mechanics of men and women and knew the girls sometimes were private with each other. She knew about their alliances and feuds, their pouting or complaining. It was all background noise.

Kerry didn’t know what Sally had in mind, but she wanted very much to find out. She thought it might have to do with that closed-door business. She awakened in the night sometimes with her body on fire and her breath coming in gasps as she listened to the cries of passion through the walls. She knew the cries were fake because she heard the girls snicker about their acting abilities when no one was listening, but nevertheless she had discovered her own remedy for the feelings that wrapped around her body with each woman’s moan. Sally’s kiss had started a feeling in her very much like the ones that sometimes woke her up in the middle of the night.

Sally patted the side of the bed next to her and Kerry slowly sat down and swung her legs up, handing one of the glasses to Sally. They clinked glasses and Kerry took a giant gulp. She had had sips of beer before and didn’t like the taste, but she knew somehow this was part of whatever Sally had planned and didn’t want to balk at any of it lest Sally refuse to go on—and she
really
wanted Sally to go on.

“You’re fifteen now, ain’t you?” Sally asked. Her eyelids were lowered and she had a funny little smile on her face.

Kerry nodded.

“You like girls, I bet. Don’t you?” She grinned when Kerry didn’t say anything. “You used to only like boys. I always saw you with that ratty little guy—what’s his name? Teddy?”

“Teddy’s not—” Kerry started to protest, her ire up at the slight.

“Shush. I told you, girl. I didn’t bring you in here to fight. I’m just sayin’.”

Kerry fought to keep her temper. It was true she wasn’t spending time with Teddy. He’d gotten a bellhop job at the Palace so he wasn’t around much. When Kerry wasn’t helping Jack, she would wander over to the Cobweb Palace and saunter through the dark, gazing at the pictures of girls like they had when they were children. Like the cobwebs, the pictures had multiplied over the years. Kerry would stare at one and try to imagine what the girl would be like in real life, what she would feel like, smell like. She liked to think that the portraits in the Cobweb Palace were of nice girls, good girls.

“Yeah,” Kerry said finally. “Maybe I like girls.”

Sally lowered her eyelids again and asked, “Would you like to touch me?”

Kerry had about drained her glass of beer and she was feeling pretty good. Sally was being nicer than ever and looked pretty in her drawers. The tops of her plump, pale breasts peeked out from the yellowed ruffle of her chemise. Kelly looked at them longingly and Sally burst out laughing.

“It’s plain as day what you want, Kerry-o. C’mere.”

Sally pulled her into an embrace and they kissed again. The sensation of their tongues together almost sent Kerry into a swoon. Sally pushed Kerry’s head down to her breasts and Kerry kissed Sally’s chest and the tops of her breasts, and without any prompting she reached up to squeeze them, her hands trembling as she felt Sally’s nipples harden under her fingertips. Sally’s reaction astonished her when she threw her head back and groaned.

“Oh, girl, you’re going to slay me with those lips, you are. Come on.”

With that she unbuttoned her chemise and pulled it over her head, ripped off her drawers, and looked at Kerry with challenge in her eyes. “Take your clothes off.”

Kerry obeyed as though she were a puppet with Sally pulling her taut strings. The room was dim but not full dark, since it was twelve noon, but with the old shade pulled the light was a sickly orange. The beer and Sally’s eyes and Sally’s kisses were altogether overwhelming to Kerry. She was light-headed because even though she’d seen Sally naked before she’d never felt this way—all warm and tingling and aching to touch her. Sally was a little plump and so very soft. Kerry lay down next to her and ran her small, slim, tanned hand from Sally’s throat down to her crotch.

Sally trembled and murmured, “Mmmm. That sure feels good. You can make me feel even better. Do what I show you.”

With that, she pulled Kerry’s head to her breast, gripping her dark brown hair. Kerry knew without being told what to do and licked the shiny pink nipple offered to her lips, reveling in the feel of the soft but wonderfully hard flesh as she ran her tongue over it and sucked it into her mouth. Sally was moving all over and moaning loudly. She guided Kerry’s fingers none too gently to where she wanted them between her legs. Kerry had an odd feeling of familiarity since she had her own body as a reference. She knew what Sally felt, but feeling Sally around her fingers, so soft, and hot, and wet, made her nearly cry out with her own pleasure as her rich, dark scent filled her nose.

In a moment or two, Sally’s hand gripped her wrist hard, her breathing shallow and fast, her moaning taking on a shrill, desperate tone. “Faster,” she gasped. Kerry obeyed. She realized suddenly what kind of power she could wield and she liked it. She liked seeing Sally all helpless and pleading. It all ended suddenly as Sally heaved, uttering one sharp cry, and pressed her legs together hard, her wetness filling Kerry’s hand as her back arched before she collapsed back onto the bed.

“Oooee. Girl. You done me right. I knew you would.” Her breasts were going up and down, and they were rosy and had a little coating of sweat. Kerry lay quietly just looking at her in wonderment, trying to decide if it would be rude to lick the sweat from Sally’s beautiful breasts.

Sally was a lot of things but tender wasn’t one of them. But, for some reason, her hand on Kerry’s cheek seemed tender. Caring, even. Whatever just happened to her at least made her a little grateful or something,
Kerry thought, feeling eight feet tall and ten years older to have been the cause of it.

She smiled shyly and Sally laughed. “You’re something, you are. I don’t think I ever got it as good as that. C’mere.” Those two little words were exerting a powerful effect on Kerry, and she was readier than anything to heed the call.

Sally cradled Kerry in her arms, hugging her small, slim body tight. Kerry was about to smother in her breasts, but she thought, This is a fine way to go
.
Sally started stroking her all over on her breasts and back and backside, squeezing her now and then. She whispered into Kerry’s ear, “I reckon I get to show you what for now. I’ll treat you reallll nice. ’Cause that’s how you treated me. I don’t forget that.”

Kerry jumped a foot, though, when Sally pinched her nipples a little too hard.

“Oh, sorry, sweetie. I didn’t know you were like glass. I’ll be nicer. In fact, I’ll be so nice you’ll think you died and gone to heaven.” Sally’s hands were everywhere, and everywhere her hands went, her lips followed. Kerry squirmed, half from discomfort and half from arousal. She didn’t know exactly what she wanted, but she knew she needed it. Now. The sensations of Sally’s hands and tongue on her heated skin were driving her crazy.

“Do you touch yourself?” Sally asked suddenly.

Kerry nodded. Her ability to speak had somehow fled. Sally was looking at her closely and insinuating her fingers in those places where no one but Kerry herself had been. Her fingers were clever and insistent, and Kerry had to shut her eyes. She couldn’t stand the feeling but she also couldn’t stand the thought of it stopping. She was concentrating hard and she was shocked when the fingers stopped. Before she could fully absorb that, she felt her legs pushed apart and the brush of hair on her thigh, and then a warm, wet mouth covered her most private, most sensitive place. She gasped and started to shove Sally away.

Sally raised her head. “Shhhhh!” she ordered, and went back to her task, wrapping her arms firmly around Kerry’s thighs.

When it was over, Sally propped herself up on her elbow and gently tweaked Kerry’s nipple. “Now you know what else to do. How about you show me what you learned.”

*

Kerry came looking for Sally a few weeks later to say hello and steal a kiss or two before Sally went down to the saloon for the night. She found Sally in her room with little Minny sitting at the mirror. Sally was painting her face.