I say, “Heather.”
She tries to back away but I grip her firmly by the wrist. I pull her down to the bench. Her skin is icebox cold.
“How the hell do you know my name? Nobody knows my name. I say my name is Samantha.”
“Like the character in Sex in the City. You and Megan loved the show.” I’ve never even seen one episode, but my guess is on target. Now she stares at me. I let go of her wrist.
“You know Megan…?”
I take off my suit coat and drape it over her shoulders. It will at least take away the chill. More will be required to get the skating-rink glare out of her eyes.
“I know about Megan. I need to find her, to keep her safe.”
“I don’t know. They were after her. Both of us. I got away. Lived on the streets. Maybe you’re one of them.”
“I’m a friend. You’re safe now.”
She’s too high to run. She adds, “Please let me suck your cock. God, I need money.”
“We’ve got to find Megan. She’s in trouble.”
“We’re both in fucking trouble!” At least momentarily, she snaps out of the high. She looks at me like I’m an idiot. “They were going to kill us. That’s why we went to Ryan. He wanted to call the cops.”
“Did Ryan call the cops?”
She shakes her head.
“Megan thought the cops, um, would be in on it. So we stayed with Ryan awhile…”
I ask her when and she laughs hysterically.
“Ryan loved Megan. He was devoted to her, would have done anything for her. Very old-fashioned, kinda. Megan wanted to play.”
“With older men?”
“I wasn’t always a crack ho, you know…”
“I didn’t say you were. You’re very attractive…”
“I partied with the big guys. Movers…shakers…” She does wavy movements with her arms, first to the right, then, to the left. “Um, Megan got me in. We were tight. Shit, we had fun. Got me on cocaine. I mean really good stuff. All these big shots, so proper and moral back home, but when we were there…”
“Where?”
She shrugs. “Jack and the beanstalk. Little red riding hood.” She laughs again. “We flew…” She makes wings with her arms and whoops loudly. I drape my suit coat around her small shoulders again. She stares at the flashing lights the toy store across the street.
“Do you know where Megan is?”
“Look dawg, we had to get out, understand?”
“Why?”
She stares ahead, then buries her face in her hands. “I don’t remember things. Shit. They were going to kill us. God, I miss those parties.”
She sees a man walking north on First Avenue, a potential john.
“Heather.”
She turns back to me. “Do you know me from Texas?”