Chapter Seven
Carolyn
I felt dirty as hell, and the horrible thing about it was I didn’t feel dirty because I had given Carl a blowjob to try to get out of trouble. I felt dirty because I gave him the blowjob when I liked him, and because he had no idea at all that my motivations weren’t sincere. A man who’d been kinder to me than any other person . . .
I actually could imagine myself in a relationship with him!
I could envision having Carl as a boyfriend or even . . . It was too much to hope for more. Instead, I’d stolen from him and then given him a blowjob so that he would be distracted by my mouth and not to look closely at the possibility it was me.
I’d wanted to give him that blowjob, too. That was the worst part about it. I’d wanted to do that and so much more, and I’d been thinking about it for a very long time. I’d been imagining him being like one of the Daddies and me being like one of the little girls. I’d been imagining it and I wanted it. Instead, I cheapened everything by being . . . Hell, by being a rotten person.
I saw him standing at the bar, watching my performance. He watched the whole thing. It was a good thing the kind of music I sang was sad and forlorn, because it meant my feeling so troubled wouldn’t make the music worse. In fact, there was a good chance it would make it better.
When I’d showed my boobs online, I’d felt dirty. Right then, after stealing from him and then sucking him off like a two-bit whore, I felt worse that dirty. I felt… I felt like a bad person. All of my life I’ve felt as if I can’t get a break. I’ve always felt as if I can’t do anything right and I can’t ever do the right thing, but I’ve never felt bad. Morally bad.
I’ve always felt like a good person with a good heart, who just couldn’t ever win. I’ve always screwed things up and never succeeded, but I was always a good person. I was just surviving and doing the best I could. Not now, though. Now I felt like I really was a bad person.
It felt worse than horrible.
When my show was over, I smiled and walked over to the bar. I could see several of the Daddies and little girls in attendance, and they smiled at me and called me over. We talked for a while and the upshot of it all was that I when I walked back up on stage, Carl wasn’t by the bar watching anymore. I almost felt good about that, because I didn’t feel as horrible when I wasn’t looking at him. I’d be paid tomorrow and I was going to pay it all back and never do anything like that again.
I sat on a chair on the stage and strummed my guitar lightly.
“This is for Tami. It’s her birthday today and she wants her favorite song. It’s one of my favorite songs, too, and if you’ve never heard Janis Joplin sing it, you have to download the real thing.” I smiled. “But not until after you’ve listened to me.” Everyone laughed and it occurred to me I was more confident when I performed.
Why couldn’t I be that way in the rest of my life?
I sang ‘Me and Bobby McGee’, but not as bluesy as Janis sang it. I sang it more as the writer sang it. Kris Kristofferson and Janis Joplin were hot and heavy and he wrote the song inspired by her. The love in the song is powerful and when he sings it, the loss is even more powerful. When I got to the line that says, “Somewhere near Salinas, Lord, I let him slip away,” I felt tears running down my cheeks.
I’d come so far in four months and I’d let it all slip away. I sang, “I’d trade all my tomorrows for a single yesterday, holding Bobby’s body next to mine,” I couldn’t keep the tears from my voice and as I sang the chorus, I was obviously weeping as I sang.
When the song ended there was utter silence that went on for almost a minute and then suddenly, in an explosion of movement and noise, everyone rose to their feet cheering and applauding. I noticed Carl was back, looking at me with such adoration, I couldn’t stand it. Thankfully, arms around me drew my attention.
It was Tami. “My God!” she said. “That was the most incredible . . . That was the . . . My God, Rollie!”
“Some birthday song,” I said. “It was sad!”
“It was absolutely beautiful,” she said. “Not a dry eye in the place.”
“Happy birthday,” I said. “Did your boyfriend like it?”
“You made my Daddy cry!” she said. “It was beautiful. You’re beautiful!”
I smiled, but I didn’t feel beautiful. She walked away and I wanted to scan the crowd for Carl, but Helen was there.
She hugged me and said, “That was amazing, Honey.” I could hear tears in her voice, too.
“Did I make you cry?” I asked. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not you,” she said. She gave me a kiss on the cheek. “It’s something else, but your song was amazing.”
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
She ended my world when she said, “I’m two-hundred fifty dollars short tonight. I don’t know how it happened, but Carl wants to see me and I think he’s going to fire me.”
I couldn’t let that happen.
I just got up and headed to the office. I couldn’t let myself think or I’d back out of it all.