Buck Me Cowboy

“No problem, honey. Do you know how long you’ll be here?” she asks and I shake my head.

“Just a week,” I say in a small voice. “At least for now.”

“Sure, sure,” she says, looking down at the computer screen, fingers flying. “We’ve got you covered. Here’s a key.”

And grabbing my stuff, I make my way to my motel room, which is much nicer than I anticipated. It’s small, but it has everything I could need – a queen size bed, a small refrigerator, a television, and a table with a chair. There’s even a small bathroom in the back, with a tub that’s decent-sized.

Thankfully, sleep comes easily and I don’t wake once throughout the night. But a knock on my room door jolts me awake the following morning, and to my surprise it’s the brown-haired lady from the front desk again.

“Is something wrong?” I ask sleepily, peering out the door.

“No, nothing wrong,” she says slowly, taking in my messy hair and bleary eyes. “Nothing wrong, except your credit card was declined.”

That jolts me awake.

“I’m sorry,” I stammer. “I’ve never used it before, it’s brand new.”

The receptionist shakes her head.

“I know honey, credit card companies are bizarre sometimes. But unfortunately, we’re gonna have to ask you to leave. I was supposed to do it last night, as soon as the decline came through, but you looked so tired.”

Oh shit, shit. What can I do? Nodding miserably, I turn.

“I’ll get my stuff,” I mumble, defeated already. “I’ll be out of your hair in ten.”

But the lady doesn’t leave right away. Instead she stands at the doorway a moment longer, looking me over with pitying eyes

“Where you coming from?”

“Kansas,” I say half-heartedly. Not that it matters.

She takes a deep breath.

“Listen I had a daughter a lot like you,” she say slowly. “My Katie always had this lost air about her, like she was constantly running. So how about some work?” she asks. “You willing to work for your keep?”

I turn quickly, eyes flashing with hope.

“That’d be marvelous, I’d really appreciate it,” is my breathless reply. “I’ll do anything around here. Maid? Washing dishes? Anything at all, I’m really good with my hands.”

The woman nods slowly.

“I’m Grace,” she says, extending her hand. “My daughter was Katie, she died last year so I feel like I gotta help. So many girls out there,” she says, shaking her head.

“I’m sorry about your daughter,” is my reply. “I’m really sorry to hear about whatever it is that happened, but whatever you want me to do, I’d be happy to.”

Grace nods her head again.

“Why don’t you start with the laundry?” she asks. “Lord knows even a small motel like us has loads and loads to do every day, sheets, comforters, coverlets, towels, all that good stuff. I’ll show you the laundry room and you can get started there.”

I nod gratefully.

“Yes ma’am,” are my obedient words. But as Grace turns to leave, I stop her once more.

“Can I ask what happened to your daughter? You said she’s gone, can I ask how? I don’t mean to pry,” is my quick refrain. “It’s okay not to say.”

Grace pauses at the doorstep, still looking down. But then she raises her head to look at me, tears shining in her eyes.

“My Katie got into the business,” she says slowly. “It was nasty stuff, drugs and working on the street, selling her body. She got taken by a man, a real nasty john, and he beat the shit out of her,” she said, voice breaking. “No matter where she hid, he always found her, and finally, it was too much. He beat the living daylights out of my girl,” Grace says, voice breaking. “My baby girl, my sweet thing.”

I stop, heart beating in my throat. Oh my god. Grace’s pain must be unimaginable. To know that your child was beaten to death by a random stranger? Some violent criminal who preyed on women?

But Grace straightens then.

“That’s why I have to help you,” she says, drawing herself up and taking a deep breath. “When I see a girl like you, on the run, no money and no options, I’ve gotta step in. I can let what happened to my Katie happen to another innocent child.”

I nod slowly.

“Thank you. I really appreciate it,” are my simple words. My stomach’s in my throat, heart full. Oh god, what happened to her daughter is so awful and painful, no words are enough.

Grace shakes her head quickly again, turning to go.

“You just let me know if something goes wrong, hear? You come to me first.”

I nod.

“Yes of course. Thank you again,” are my quiet words.

And with that, the woman’s gone, her painfully thin form limping down the hallway.

I pause, taking a deep breath, surveying the room once more. I’ve been granted a boon. A get out of jail card that I have to use wisely. Because I have no money, no luck, and no options, but out of nowhere, Grace has agreed to hire me as a laundress at this motel.