Page:Jay Little - Maybe—Tomorrow.pdf/184

 Cotton. He looked and watched them with fearless eyes. From every type person, to variations in color, these people stormed past in a disorderly array down Royal. They clamored and pushed, determined at any cost to get to their destination. Some were youngsters on their way to a party or a show; some were old, selling papers, gum, pencils, souvenirs; some were rough looking truck drivers, sales clerks, ushers, hostesses, pimps, whores; all making a meager living in the city. Some had taken steps to equip themselves for their jobs and there were many, many others who had just taken a job, any job, to earn money. Money, what a necessary evil it seemed to most.

Gaylord looked up at the stars, bright, close, and profuse in number, some blue, some white. They all twinkled as though at him personally, sharing the secret sweetness of his freedom.

He was so entranced with the night and the sights around him that he didn't hear a girl speak to him. In fact he would have walked right past her if she had not grabbed his arm.

"Hi … goodlooking," she said.

Gaylord turned and looked at her. She had straw colored hair and her jaws were busy chewing gum. A sweet aroma of jasmine surrounded her. He smiled, said, "Hello."

"Wanta have some fun, handsome?" the girl invited, looking down below his waist and then up again into his eyes.

"Not tonight," Gaylord offered tentatively.

"Why not, goodlooking?" the girl put in. "I'll bet you won't be sorry. I just live down the street."

Gaylord didn't mind. He wasn't dashed at all. It was kind of fun. He grinned … "I can't tonight … I'm meeting some friends." He knew what she was. Sort of felt sorry for her. She couldn't be very much older than himself and she had come to this.

Gaylord started to go, but she caught him by the arm again. "You could buy me one little drink, couldn't you? Won't take long and then you can meet your friends."

Gaylord blushed like a schoolboy. He didn't like having her force herself onto him. Still, he didn't want to be rude. "I've got to …" he started.

"Just one little drink? You won't be sorry, honey."

Gaylord frowned, cocking his head slightly to one side. The first 174