After Two Years
In her second floor room at the Lucky Lady, Kitty lay on her side with the Denver Bank president's sweating belly pressed into her back. His whiskey filled breaths moved the hairs on the back of her neck. She cringed. Two years had crawled by since she got off the stage in Denver, and she'd gotten nowhere. No matter what she did, Pentz kept her scrimping for money.
The snores behind her grew louder and a wry smile touched her lips. The august banker, Mr. Walter Witherspoon III, came to her every Saturday night. And every Sunday morning, he and the other fine citizens of Denver, went to church and prayed for the souls of wayward women. Damn, she had to get out of this place. With just five more dollars, she could take the stage at least as far as the next town, and start over.
Witherspoon's snores grew louder. Kitty chewed her lower lip – she'd seen the banker's budging wallet. Surely he wouldn't miss $5, but she'd never stolen anything from anyone. It wasn't right. What if she repaid it? As soon as she got settled in another town and earned money, she'd mail his $5 back. That way it wouldn't be stealing, it would be a loan.
With her mind made up, she moved quickly. She replaced her body with a pillow and tiptoed around the bed. The banker's pants were thrown over a chair. She could see the corner of his wallet poking out of his back pocket. Holding her breath she slid it out, and carefully took 5 single dollars. She was going to repay it, besides, he'd never miss that small mount. She returned the wallet to his pants and tip-toed back to bed. Witherspoon would wake up any minute, put on his clothes and be gone. He was a man of regular habits.
Her room was sunlit when she woke, and Witherspoon long gone. For the first time, in a very long while, she smiled as she dressed. If she hurried she'd make the late morning stage and be in a new town by night-fall. A fresh start was about to begin. She threw her belongings into her suitcase, and hurried down the stairs, knowing the saloon would be empty at this hour on a Sunday. She reached the bottom step and froze. Jay Pentz was standing there with Sheriff Lindol. Lindol, hard-eyed and barrel chested, strode towards her holding hand cuffs. "Kitty Russell, you're under arrest. I have a complaint from Mr. Walter Witherspoon. He says you stole money from him. You're going to jail."
Feeling panicked, Kitty stepped back. "I-I – you have no proof. It's his word against mine." The sheriff shrugged. "You still have to sit in jail until I get a judge here. Then it'll be a bank president's word against a - a saloon woman's." The color drained from Kitty's face. Jay Pentz shook his head and frowned with dramatic concern. "You know Sheriff, it would be a shame for Kitty to do jail time, since it is a first offense. What if she gave the money back? Surely Mr. Witherspoon would drop the charges. Of course, we'll have to assure him she'll never do anything like this again."
Sheriff Lindol stared at Kitty for a full two minutes before slowly nodding. "I'll agree to that. Hand it over Kitty." Hands shaking, Kitty reached into her skirt pocket and set 5 single dollars on the bar. Pentz put his pudgy hand on hers. "Good, now go back up stairs and get ready for work. She turned to go, but not before seeing Sheriff Lindol pocket 3 of the dollars. Pentz pocketed the other two and whispered, "Sheriff, you did a real good job convincing Witherspoon he wasn't robbed, he just got drunk and forgot how much he spent. Now the money is ours."
Kitty ran up the stairs. She'd been tricked, and couldn't do a thing about it. No one was on her side. No one cared.
Fifteen Years go by
Pale and tired, Kitty sat on the edge of the examination table. "Well, Dr. Samda, why have I been feeling poorly?" The doctor stroked his well manicured handlebar mustached. "Simple case of Female Complaints. Here." He set a small, brown bottle on the table beside her. "A couple of sips of this, you'll be wide eyed, and energetic. If you start to feel shaky and sluggish, take more. When you run out come back and I'll sell you another bottle." Kitty fingered the small bottle. "I've seen other woman take this stuff. They start acting crazy, and want more and more." She looked up at him. "Doctor Samda, I want to know what's ailing me. I need a better explanation than female complaints." The doctor flicked some dust from his three piece suit. "I don't have a crystal ball. Maybe it has something to do with visits to Sally Smith." Kitty's eye's widened, "How do you know about her?" Samda laughed, "I've sent plenty of women to Sally when they find themselves in unwanted situations. You saloon girls are not the only ones who get in trouble. I know the wagon to Sally's place leaves every Sunday morning, and it's plenty full." Kitty got up from the table and slipped on her dress and shoes. "Then you know I've never been in that wagon. I'm smart enough to know my cycles, and I know how to please men in other ways at certain times of month." The doctor shrugged and held out his hand. "That will be three dollars. Two for the visit and one for the medicine." Kitty touched the bottle again, it might help her feel better, but it felt wrong. "I don't want this medicine." The doctor sighed impatiently, "All right then two dollars." Kitty scowled and dug into her purse. "Last month a visit was dollar and seventy-five cents." Samda smiled, "I'm a professional man who must keep up appearances. That doesn't come cheap." Kitty pulled a handful of coins from her purse. "I only have $1.75." Samda grabbed a notebook. "Give me what you have. You can owe me 25 cents. Interest is 10%. I'll write it down right here." Kitty handed over the last of her money, annoyed with herself for bothering to visit the useless doctor. Now she was in debt. But, it couldn't be helped. She had to give 25 cents for soup to the new girl at the saloon. Poor thing was starving, and payday is two days away. She walked to the door. The doctor looked over. I expect payment on Friday, right after you get your salary."
In a bad mood after seeing Dr. Samda, Kitty pushed through the batwing doors of the Lucky Lady and saw Pentz alone at a table drinking his best whiskey. He beckoned. Mistrusting the look in his eyes, she reluctantly went over. A conversation with Jay Pentz never lead to anything good.
TBC