Ancestral

A New Friend

I thought I heard my name being called in the distance. I tried to open my eyes, but the light was so painful. I had a terrible headache, and when I tried to sit up, the world began to spin violently. I tried to raise a hand to my head, but even that was too much. All I could do was lie here and listen as the ones calling my name drew closer. Finally, they seemed to get close enough to see me. I heard someone yell, “Over here! I’ve found him!” It was Sylvia. She knelt beside me and started asking me questions. All the activity was making me woozy and I could feel my consciousness slipping away. Before I passed out again, she pulled out a bandanna and a bottle of water and made a cold compress. When she placed it on my forehead the coolness of the water brought me back from the edge, but it made the pain in my head worse. Suddenly Helmut was behind her on his cell phone. “You’re going to be alright," she said. "The ambulance will be here soon." Her voice began to grow distant and hollow as my vision grew blurry again. "Joey, stay with me. Joey…”

* * *

No fence marked the spot as being set apart. It was just a clearing in the trees. It was set well away from the road, invisible to the casual passerby, and could not easily be found. The markers were not grand. Small wooden crosses stood at the head of many of the graves, while others had cheap metal plaques on a shallow stake. Only a few had actual gravestones and those were small and simple. One whole section in the back had no markers at all. I could not bear for her to go there. I saved all I could, pleading with the people whom she had once considered to be friends, and I finally had enough for one of those small stones. It simply read ‘Maggie’, but that was enough. The stone was forever. She would never be forgotten. I would certainly never forget her. She was popular at the Hathaway because she was so pretty, but there was so much more. No matter how cruel the world was to her, and it was brutal at times, she never returned evil for evil. Over the last few years, she had taught me that I actually could love someone, even if that love was the love of a friend. She always seemed to know when I could use some encouragement or reassurance, and she never failed to be there when I needed her most.

I stood in the frigid wind and prayed what few prayers I knew for her. Mostly I just missed her and wished she were still here with me. It had been almost six months since she was taken, a victim of one of the many diseases that plagued our profession. In the end I was the only one she had left. All others had abandoned her once she was no longer profitable or pretty, but I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. I actually did love her. I knew that for sure now. Her last month was unbearable, She was no longer welcome to stay in her room at the Hathaway, and was only allowed to stay in the derelict shed half a mile from the inn as long as she never allowed herself to be seen. I made sure she had food and water, and managed to find her some blankets and pillows to protect her from the rough hay that served as a bed. She died alone during the night. I found her when I took her some breakfast the next morning. She was not accorded a proper Christian burial because of her profession and was destined for an anonymous pauper’s grave until I stepped in, paying for one of the small metal markers, and pledging to get her a stone. The wind began to grow harsher and I knew I had to go, but I hated to leave her. I offered a last wordless prayer for her and turned back to the cruel world of men.

When I returned to the Hathaway, Miss Beal called me in her office. “I have an unusual assignment for you. A guest at the Foster has requested the kind of service you provide, and the desk manager has sent a messenger to see if we could help. Are you available?” She smiled, seeming to take great pleasure in the fact that the impeccable Foster Inn was reduced to offering such services to their guests.

I had passed the messenger in the hall when I arrived and was pleased to have an excuse to walk across town with him. He was about my age, Slim, with dark hair and full lips. I shook his hand and told him my name was Sylas, but I usually used the name Cid when I was working. He introduced himself as Marcus but said I could call him Mark when none of the guests were around. I liked him immediately.

As we walked, I asked how things were going at the Foster. He hesitated before drawing a little closer in a conspiratorial manner. “I really shouldn’t be telling you this, but it’s getting bad. Miss Foster doesn’t really have a head for business, and she refuses to listen to the people who could actually help her. She prefers to listen to the men who flatter her then secretly line their own pockets at her expense. It may be the slow time of year, but the staff has never been so small. We’ve been reduced to a level that makes it almost impossible to keep up. I was brought on to work the front desk, but I’m now helping prepare meals and clean rooms. I think Miss Foster wanted me to service this guest’s needs, but couldn’t bring herself to ask me, instead, she sent me for you. I guess she’d heard you were good at your job.”

“Well, it’s nice to know I have a reputation,” I said with a smile.

He flushed and looked at me horrified. “I didn’t mean to imply…Oh gosh.”

I just laughed. “Don’t worry, I know exactly what kind of reputation I have and I’m quite aware of how people look at me. It’s just part of the job. I can handle it, believe me. I’ve dealt with worse.”

“I don’t know if I could. I don’t know what I would have done if she asked me to…” he caught my eyes for a moment and blushed.”

“To let the guy fuck you?” I said it bluntly. I wanted to see how he would respond.

He flinched, but lifted his head to meet my eyes, and nodded. His eyes were wide, and I thought I sensed a kind of hunger behind them. “I can’t even say it, how could I do it?”

“I’ll admit, it’s not easy at first, especially if…” suddenly I could feel the ropes on my wrists and my father’s hand over my mouth. I could smell the rancid body odor and stale alcohol and feel unwelcome hands all over my ass. I took a deep breath and continued, “Let’s just say it gets easier with practice.”

We continued walking in silence for a bit. Now that Maggie was gone, I was quite lonely, and I wouldn’t mind knowing him better. Friends outside the profession were hard to come by in this “fine upstanding Christian” town, but maybe he could see past the reputation I had just declared didn’t bother me. Maybe he could be an actual friend. Worth a try, I thought, so I engaged in small talk. “How long have you been at the Foster?”

He seemed pleased to have a safe subject for conversation again, and replied, “Since it opened. I came here when my parents threw me out and the Fosters took me in. When Miss foster opened the inn, I was allowed to keep a room in the basement, but I had to work for it.”

“Wait, your parents threw you out? Why?”

He struggled, “They…When they found out…It was …”

I stopped him. “It’s ok, you don’t have to tell me. I was just surprised. I didn’t get along with my parents either. I ran away from home.”

He looked at me with admiration. “I never would have had the nerve to do that, but I wasn’t given a choice.”

“Neither was I, really. It was pretty violent.”

“My father only hit me once, and my mother cried, then he told me to get out, and I’ve never seen him since. My mom helped me pack and secretly gave me some money and said I should come here. She promised to send a letter to Captain Foster asking him to help me out. She knew him from when she was young, and he was still running his shipping business. I think he was sweet on her or something, and when I finally arrived, he was expecting me.”

As he finished, we arrived at the hotel. “He’s in room 303, on the third floor. He asked for a valet that could help him with some personal needs.” He raised his eyebrows at the last two words so I would understand the euphemism, but I had way too much experience to need this kind of cue. “I believe he’s expecting you.”

I headed up the stairs and knocked on the door. The man who answered was taller than me and carried an air of authority that suggested he was used to getting what he wanted. He looked me up and down and sniffed. “I suppose you’ll do,” He said haughtily before opening the door wide enough to let me in.

Forty-five minutes later I made my way back down the stairs, stopping at the front desk on my way out. Mark greeted me and asked how it went. “Nothing out of the ordinary,” I said.

I placed a dollar on the counter and slid it toward him. He looked puzzled. “What’s this?”

“Part of my tip,” I said matter of factly. “I wanted to give you a tip for coming to get me.”

He smiled and slid it back to me. “I’d rather you take me out for dinner tonight. I enjoyed our conversation and would like to get to know you better.”

I picked up the bill and said, “I’d like that too, deal.”