Life Support Read Free

her shoes echoed in the stairwell. When she reached the second floor, her palms were sweaty.
    This felt wrong. All wrong.
    She paused on the landing and gazed toward the third floor. What the hell did you get me into, Romy? Who is this client, anyway?
    She wiped her damp palms on her blouse. Then she took another breath and ascended the next flight of stairs. In the third floor hallway, she stopped outside the last door on the right. She heard a humming sound from the room beyond�an air conditioner? She opened the door.
    Cool air spilled out. She stepped inside and was amazed to find herself in a room with pristine white walls. In the center was some sort of doctor's exam table, padded in maroon vinyl. Overhead hung an enormous lamp. There was no other furniture. Not even a chair.
    "Hello, Molly."
    She spun around, searching for the man who'd just said her name. There was no one else in the room. "Where are you?" she demanded.
    "There's nothing to be afraid of. I'm just a little shy. First I'd like to get a look at you."
    Molly focused on a mirror, mounted in the far wall. "You're back there, aren't you? Is that some kinda one-way glass?"
    "Very good."
    "So what do you want me to do?"
    "Talk to me."
    "Is that all?"
    "There'll be more."
    Naturally. There was always more. She walked, almost casually, to the mirror. He'd said he was shy. That made her feel better. More in control. She stood with one hand propped on her miniskirted hip. "Okay.
    If you want to talk, mister, it's your money."
    "How old are you, Molly?"
    "Sixteen."
    "Are your periods regular?"
    "What?"
    "Your menstrual periods."
    She gave a laugh. "I don't believe this."
    "Answer the question."
    "Yeah. They're sorta regular."
    "And your last period was two weeks ago?"
    "How do you know that?" she demanded. Then, shaking her head, she muttered, "Oh. Romy told you." Romy would know, of course. He always knew when his girls were on the rag.
    "Are you healthy, Molly?"
    She glared at the mirror. "Don't I look healthy?"
    "No blood diseases? Hepatitis? HIV?"
    "I'm clean. You won't catch anything, if that's what worries you.
    "
    "Syphilis? Clap?"
    "Look," she snapped. "Do you want to get laid or not?"
    There was a silence. Then the voice said, softly, "Take off your clothes."
    This was more like it. This was what she expected.
    She stepped closer to the mirror, so close her breath intermittently steamed the glass. He would want to watch every detail.
    They always did.
    She reached up and began to unbutton her blouse. She did it slowly, drawing out the performance. As the fabric parted she let her thoughts go blank, felt herself withdrawing into some safe mental closet where men did not exist. She was moving her hips, swaying to imagined music.
    The blouse slid off her shoulders to the floor. Her breasts were exposed now, her nipples dimpling in the room's chill. She closed her eyes.
    Somehow that made it better. Let's get this over with, she thought. Just screw him and get out of here.
    She unzipped her skirt and stepped out of it. Then she peeled off her panties. All this she did with her eyes closed. Romy had told her she had a good body. That if she used it right, no one would even notice how plain her face was. She was using that body now, dancing to a rhythm only she could hear.
    "That's fine," the man said. "You can stop dancing."
    She opened her eyes and stared at the mirror in bewilderment. She saw her own reflection there. Limp brown hair. Breasts small but pointed.
    Hips as narrow as a boy's. When she'd been dancing with her eyes closed, she had been acting out a part. Now she confronted her own image. Her real self. She couldn't help crossing her arms over her naked chest.
    "Go to the table," he said.
    "What?"
    "The exam table. Lie down on it."
    "Sure. If that's what turns you on."
    "That's what turns me on."
    To each his own. She climbed onto the table. The burgundy vinyl was cold against her bare buttocks. She lay down and waited for something to happen.
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