Ruby Red Marionette

fourteen | possible

I was now completely broke.

But Devin promised that he knew a fool-proof way to multiply my money. I trusted him, not because of anything to do with his personality - if I were relying on that alone, I would have ran away from him long ago - but because I now knew his lifestyle. No one can trust a vagrant, and being one he was likely to sabotage me at any moment, but I knew more than him. There was a glint of youth in his eyes; not his age, but his knowledge. He didn’t know all the rules.

We walked on a side of town that smelled like whores and other animals. The smell wasn’t what made the area so repulsive - it was the desperation, the hastiness, the lack of thinking. The girls in little black dresses standing in front of hotels, the men with lust in their eyes and their hands on their crotches. Everyone here was ready to give anything in the blink of an eye, whether it be sex or drugs or any opportunities. Even the bums on the street looked like they would kiss the ground we walked on just for a nickel. These homeless people were not the ones to associate with. They weren’t like us. They weren’t intelligent, functioning human beings who knew what would get them ahead in this jungle. All they wanted to do was get to the next block over, to get one mosquito off their backs. Long-term thinking wasn’t the norm.

They knew we were different. The frigidness in our eyes, the precision in our walk. We fascinated them, and that’s why they threw things at us.

Over the span of just one block, about ten girls offered to do things to Devin that even I wouldn’t repeat. On the next block, one guy flashed his penis at me, a girl rubbed herself and asked if we wanted to menage, and a man in a clearly stolen trenchcoat caressed his cat in a way that made Devin beyond uncomfortable.

It amused me, though. All of it, this big circus, was a form of entertainment. It was rare that I was exposed to people lower than me. It was refreshing.

“You don’t speak much.” Devin said to me suddenly. He was looking at me, probably to distract himself from the antics taking place around him.

“Why do you think that is?” I asked.

“Because people who talk a lot let go of their secrets easily?”

I laughed. “I don’t do anything by mistake.”

He looked at me, perplexion on his face. “Okay, so then what is the reason why you don’t speak?”

“I only make conversation when it benefits me.” I said. I kept an inscrutable mien, but I was smiling on the inside. Doing this, this back-and-forth conversation, was my favorite sport.

Devin softly stroked his chin, biting his lip to hold back a grin. I could tell the difference between us. He’s been doing this for three years, yes, but he hasn’t been through all the ropes. I could see in his eyes, in his smile, that he was growing fond of me. I captivated him. But someday, he would learn that taking interest in anyone, no matter who, was asking for trouble and betrayal.

“When will you tell me what tails means?” I asked him.  

“Right now. Heads means male, tails means female. It determines which one I pursue and which you pursue. I chose tails, so that means that I go after the girl. See, here’s how it works: we find a girl. We tell her that we know a way for her to make some easy money. Then we hook her up with a guy, they fuck, we take the money.”

“So why did we skip over all those girls while we’ve been walking?”

“Because we need someone young,” Devin said. “Someone naive. Those girls are stupid in the sense that they don’t know what an STD is, but they’re not stupid enough to fall for a scam. They’ve been in the prostitution business before, and they know every trick in the book. We need someone like...someone like her.”