Santa’s Helper (Sexy!) With Boots : 2 / 6
An Altered Fates Story
By Iolanthe Portmanteaux
The woman in the red Santa’s Helper outfit saw Jack’s distress and asked, “Did you want that cab, honey? Aren’t you staying?”
Jack, more confused than ever, glanced from the woman to the taxi and back again. She gestured mutely at the cab, which was about to leave the parking lot. Her mind was so overcome with questions, she was utterly unable to speak.
“Don’t worry, I got this,” the woman assured her, and putting two fingers in her mouth, let out an ear-splitting THWEE-aw-WHEET! THWEE-aw-WHEET! At the piercing sound of her whistle, the taxi’s brake lights flashed, and the driver’s head jerked back. He regarded the two women for a moment, then turned away. The brake lights went dark. The driver touched the gas. The car turned down the street and disappeared from sight.
“The bastard!” the woman in red shouted. “What a bastard! Did you see him? He heard me! You saw that, didn’t you? He stopped, he looked at us, and then he just up and left! What a god-damned bastard!” She pulled a pack of cigarettes from her bag and offered one to Jack -- who declined. She lit, took a deep draw, and chuckled. As the smoke trailed from her mouth, she said, “Then again, he might of taken off ‘cause I stiffed him on the tip, heheheh. But you know what I say? I say, if you want ten dollars, you ask for ten dollars. You know what I mean? No pussy-footing around. Just say what you mean.”
She regarded Jack in silence, looking her over from top to toe. “Well, aren’t you a fine young thing! Hot off the presses, you are! Just look at you! Skin like fresh cream, and not a wrinkle on ya. And take a look at that outfit! Must have set you back a fair bit. It’s nice material.”
“Thanks,” Jack replied, nervously.
She blew the rest of the smoke from her lungs and asked, “Why did you want that cab, hon? You’re not getting cold feet are you?”
Jack felt immensely stupid and completely unprepared. Cold feet? Cold feet about what? “I don’t know what’s going on,” she confessed, and trembled as she spoke, as if she was cold. “I have no idea why we’re here -- why I’m here.” Immediately, even as the words came out of her mouth, Jack regretted saying them. But to her surprise, the woman in red had a strong positive reaction.
“Ohh!” she exclaimed, with a delighted smile. “A newbie! That’s why I haven’t seen you. That’s why you’re so fresh and clean. This is your first time, isn’t it? Your very first time?”
Still trembling, the woman’s positive response made Jack feel safe admitting it: “Yes.”
“Ever?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, my. Well, I’d like to say it’s a wild ride, but unfortunately it’s not. You’ll see. But don’t you worry, hon! Everything’s going to be fine, just fine.” She patted Jack’s arm. “I’ll take you under my wing. I’ll keep my eye on you, make sure you’re okay. Don’t you worry one bit, do you hear me?”
“Um… okay. Thanks,” Jack replied. Then, confiding a bit more, he said, “I wanted that cab because I need to get some clothes.”
“Clothes?” the woman asked, puzzled. Then she glanced at Jack’s tote bag, which was pretty thin compared to her own bag. “Oh, I get it! You don’t have any clothes for after! Can’t you call your boyfriend? Tell him to bring you some clothes when he comes to pick you up?”
Jack blushed a bright red. “I don’t have a boyfriend. And what do you mean after? After what?”
The woman in red stopped, pulled back, and gave Jack a searching look. “What do you mean, what do I mean? Aren’t you here for the Hot Summer Christmas? You’ve got to be kidding me! Why else would ANYBODY be standing here, in this parking lot, right now, dressed the way we're dressed? And, by the way, if you don’t have a boyfriend, how did you get here? I’m guessing you didn’t come in a cab.”
“I drove,” Jack told her. “I drove here. On the way in, I saw this second-hand shop that’s sort of on the edge of town, and that’s why I wanted the cab--”
“Why didn’t you just drive there?”
“Because my car got towed, that’s why.”
“That’ll do it,” the woman commented. She clearly thought there was something fishy in Jack’s story; something that didn’t quite add up. She didn’t say so, but it showed on her face. Then another thing occurred to her, so the woman asked, “Wait a minute. Are you talking about the second-hand store at the end of the strip mall? The one that’s east of here, right after you get off Route 2?”
“Yes, that’s the one!”
The woman in red nodded, and drew on her cigarette. Just as she was about to speak, an old Cadillac pulled into the parking lot, and three more women got out, all of them dressed in sexy Santa’s Helper outfits. They waved a desultory hello, then gathered in a little pack by themselves to smoke and talk several yards away from Jack and the woman in red. “Bitches,” the woman in red commented, under her breath. Jack didn’t want to be judgmental, but he had more than a strong suspicion that all four of these women were prostitutes, and that the Hot Summer Christmas was some kind of prostitutional, prostitutionary, prostitutory gathering.
What kind of crazy nightmare is this? Jack asked himself. How and why and by whom would I be changed into a woman and shanghaied into a lurid sex party? He resolved then and there that — no matter what he had to do to get to the heart of this mystery he’d fallen into — he was not going to be a prostitute, not for an evening or an hour or even one minute. Further, there'd be no sex with anyone! Not for anything on earth!
But the woman in red was talking again.
“Well, that’s where we’re going,” she said. “The Hot Summer Christmas is taking place in that very same mall. It’s kind of an old mall, but whatever. It’s seen better days, but haven’t we all. Anyway, one of the big clothes stores has a huge back room -- a kind of warehouse, almost. The big store’s gone, so this great big back room is empty all the time. The maintenance guy rents it out for cash on the QT. I’ve done a couple events there -- so have the other girls. It’s not too bad.”
“How are you getting there?” Jack asked.
“A little bus will come and pick us up,” the woman answered. “Don’t you know that? How could you not know that? I mean, why are you even here if you don’t know that?”
Jack ignored the question. “Do you think I get off the bus at the second-hand store?”
The woman studied Jack’s face while she considered the question. After another pull on her cigarette, she answered, breathing smoke as she spoke. “Sure. Why not? If that’s what you want to do. But listen, don’t ask the driver. He’s kind of cranky, and he’s only coming to take us to the party. So don’t go asking special favors. You don’t want people asking questions, making a fuss. Here's what you do: wait until we all get off. Then you tiptoe off and go your merry way. You’ll see the store on the way in, so there’s no way for you to get lost.” She shrugged. “If that’s what you really want to do, go ahead and do it. There’s no harm done to anyone. You’ll just miss out on some easy money and free booze.”
“Okay,” Jack agreed, feeling much better. “Then that’s what I’ll do.”
“What’s your name? Mine’s Lucy.”
Jack knew the question would come sooner or later, so she went with the most obvious answer. “My name’s Jackie,” she said.
As the two shook hands, they heard a loud rumble and the sound of a clutch grinding hard against the gears. The noise came from a little school bus that had just pulled into view. It was yellow, and incongruously had the words THIRD BAPIST CHURCH misspelled in big black letters on the side. There were six women already aboard, each of them wearing a bright Santa’s Helper outfit. “Here we go,” Lucy said, stubbing out her cigarette and taking Jackie’s arm. “We gotta grab the seats in the way, way back, come on!” Clip-clopping in a hurry on her high heels, she climbed onto the bus, pulling Jackie behind her. She bustled her way to the back, where she and Jackie took the last two seats. With a loud squeak, clank, and a thud, the driver pulled the door closed, and the bus roared out of the parking lot to the sound of the clutch once again biting loudly into the gears.
“You sure you don’t want to come to the party?” Lucy asked. “It’s good money.”
“What will it be like?”
“A bunch of old fat guys and a couple of skinny ones who like to dress up like Santa Claus and get laid.” As she spoke, Lucy made an odd gesture: she interlaced the fingers of both hands and wiggled one of her pinky fingers. “I won’t kid you: it isn’t pretty. But the drinks are free, the food is edible, and you don’t have to work very hard. For the first hour or so, all you have to do is smile and pretend. After that, once the Santas are bombed, you don’t even have to do that. All you have to do is be there.”
“No, thanks,” Jackie replied with a shiver. “I just want to get some regular clothes and figure things out from there.”
“Figure things out?” Lucy rubbed her eyes and yawned. “Look -- I don’t know what ‘figuring out’ you need to do, but I can tell my hubby Wes to bring some clothes for you when he comes to pick me up. Hell, we can even give you a ride, wherever you need to go.”
Then, after a thoughtful pause, Lucy added, "And you know what? If you stick with me, I can ask my brother Grady to help you get your car back. He just got out of jail two weeks ago, so he knows the ins and outs of the system better than anybody. Plus," she added with a slow wink, "he's very easy on the eyes."
Jackie smiled but didn’t answer. Lucy shrugged and said, “Anyway, the offer’s there.” Then the two fell into silence.
Jackie gazed out the window. As she sat there, on the noisy little bus, Jackie began to feel the weight of what had happened to her. Here she was, going God knows where, to do God knows what with God knows who... half-naked in a silly Christmas outfit in the middle of summer. She was alone. She was a girl, but she wasn't a girl this morning. She was lost -- not in a geographical sense, but yes, even though she knew exactly where she was, she was lost: She didn’t know how she’d gotten into this situation and had no idea how she was getting out. Okay, she had time to get to the second-hand store and buy some decent clothes. At least she wouldn’t look like a two-dollar whore. But then what?
Who can I call? she asked herself. How can I explain this to anyone? Who am I now, anyway? Did I take over someone else’s life? Am I a person with a name and a family? Or am I someone brand-spanking new, created out of the blue? Is some woman out there now, walking around as Jack Redhaven? Did I switch bodies with some woman somewhere, or am I still me? Am I the only one in this predicament?
Jackie lifted her head and looked around the bus. She looked at the women, all of whom seemed a good twenty years older than her, and wondered to her horror whether this was where life was taking her. How could she make it stop? How could she get her real life back?
Somehow she felt certain that she was the only woman on the bus who’d been born a man.
An existential, rock-shattering fear welled up inside of her. She looked into the darkness outside the window, and felt the immensity of the universe all around her, on every side. She had never felt so alone. She had never been so alone. Nothingness in every direction, on every side, ahead and behind, above and below. Jackie closed her eyes and felt herself falling. Not falling physically -- but falling inside herself, dropping into a deep, endless emotional sinkhole: a hole with no bottom. The sky above her was black. The ground below her was gone. Jackie had never been so frightened; she never felt such desperation and terror in her life.
After what seemed like an eternity, Jackie felt Lucy’s hand on her arm. “Are you okay, honey? You’ve gone all white, and you’re shaking like a leaf. You’ve got a bad case of the jitters!”
“Oh,” Jackie gasped, almost unable to speak. She looked at her hands and saw the trembling in her arms and legs. Her throat was dry. It was hard to swallow. She felt that she’d just come back from far, far away, from the deepest boundaries of the darkness of outer space, and the cold emptiness was still upon her. She couldn’t stop shaking. “Sorry,” she muttered.
“Oh, hon! You don’t have to be sorry about nothing! You’ve got your nerves up, that’s all.” Lucy cast a stealthy glance at the other women, and in a low voice said, “I’ve got something to help with that, but it’s just between you and me. I don’t have enough to share with everybody -- not that I want to share, but I don’t have much, so not a word, not a sound.” With another quick glance at the women -- to make sure they weren’t watching -- Lucy held out her hand, and there, on her open palm, were two small white pills. They were triangular, and embossed with an X. “One for you, and one for me,” Lucy said, and added with a wink, “They're good for what ail’s ya. And if nothing ail’s ya, they're good for that, too.” Jackie and Lucy each took a pill and popped them in their mouths. Lucy cracked open a bottle of water and gave the first sip to Jackie, who washed the pill down. Lucy did the same.
After another glance forward, Lucy fished in her bag again. “Maybe we ought to pop another, just to be sure,” she told Jackie, and held out two more pills. They each took one.
Jackie took a deep breath and straightened up a little. She tooked at her hands. The trembling had stopped. Lucy observed Jackie’s actions and smiled. “They don’t work that fast, little girl. I think they’ll kick in right when we hit the mall: that’s what I call perfect timing.”
Jackie nodded. Despite what Lucy had just said, she somehow felt better already. “So what was that pill?” she asked. “Is it Xanax?”
Lucy burst into laughter. “Oh, lord, aren’t you the funny one! Xanax!” and she kept on laughing until she was overcome with coughing. She looked at Jackie’s face and stopped, mid-cough. “Bless your heart, little girl! You’re not joking, are you!” she observed. “I thought you were pulling my leg! Xanax! Heh.” Jackie shook her head. “It’s X, baby. Ecstasy.” Lucy sighed. “Now, please don’t tell me you’ve never taken E before?”
Jackie shook her head, alarmed. “What will it do to me?” she asked.
“Hmm,” Lucy mused. “Looks like this is a day of firsts for you. Well, what’ll it do? What’ll it do? It will take those nerves away for one thing. And it will, uh, it will tune up everything: it’s like… well you know HD television? Right now you and me, it’s like we’re watching regular, old-fashioned TV… everything around us in black-and-white. When the pills kick in, everything will be HD: colors, sounds… Everything. Inside and out. Everything will be great. You’ll love everything, and everything will love you. You’ll be warm and wonderful and happy. You’ll see.”
Lucy saw the look of alarm on Jackie’s face, but she clearly wasn’t concerned. She sat back in her seat and muttered, “God, I need a cigarette.” She patted Jackie’s arm mechanically. “Don’t worry. You’ll be fine. Just remember to stay hydrated. I’ll keep my eye on you. Whenever I give you water, you drink.”
The rest of the trip was quiet. No one on the bus spoke. It was an odd, transitional moment, where everyone looked silently ahead, reading themselves for what was to come.
In Jackie’s case, there were two things that occupied her mind: In the first place, she was watching herself anxiously, on edge, waiting for the first effects of the drug to appear. She had no idea what to expect, really -- she knew nothing about Ecstacy, apart from the name -- so she was on the lookout for any new sensations, or new feelings, or anything out of the ordinary at all -- not that there was any ordinary left at the moment. She wondered whether the world would actually look different, or smell different, or sound different. Jackie was already in an unfamiliar body, so her baseline for what felt normal or different was already out of whack. Then, too, Lucy may have been exaggerating about the effects of the drug.
The other thing that Jackie was watching for was outside the bus: she was scanning for something familiar on the street, some signpost or landmark; something, anything, that might tell her she was near the second-hand shop.
And so she sat, literally on the edge of her seat, keeping an inward watch for any twitches or strange ideas, and an outward watch for the second-hand store.
Every few minutes Lucy muttered, “Need a cigarette. Bad. Kill for a cigarette. Really.”
The monotony was suddenly broken when Jackie spotted the second-hand store, the same one she’d seen earlier: the one she meant to go to, before she ran into Lucy! It was farther out than she remembered, but this was definitely it! She was finally where she hoped to be right now. For the first time since she’d been transformed, she felt a glimmer of hope. The lights in the store were on, the OPEN sign was hanging in the window -- which meant that she still had time. She still had hope of getting into normal female clothes and out of this ridiculous costume. If only she could get off the bus--
Jackie wanted to call out to the driver, but she remembered Lucy’s advice about simply slipping away. It made sense: no one would have understood why she’d gotten all dolled up just to take a bus ride.
The bus slowed, then turned into the parking lot, right in front of the store. It kept going, following the store fronts along the mall. Jackie looked back at the second-hand shop. It would be a bit of a walk, but she could make it. As long as the driver stopped soon--
Instead, the driver turned left after the last store, and then turned left again, so he could follow the backs of the stores. He headed in the direction of the second-hand shop once again, this time from the back. At last, somewhere near the middle of the mall, he pulled the bus into a loading dock. It was not very promising: the dock was dirty, lit by a few weak lights. It was squalid. There was an air of dirt, menace, and danger ,even though no one was around. The driver turned off the engine, which shuddered, sputtered, and lurched violently five times before it finally fell silent. Then the driver pulled on a lever, and with a clank and a thump the door opened.
“Last stop, ladies!” the driver called. “Ho, ho, ho!”
The women sighed wearily as they got to their feet. They stretched and groaned and clomped their high-heeled way off the bus, not in any hurry at all.
Lucy popped a cigarette in her mouth in preparation, and her hand twitched on the lighter as she walked to the front. Jackie followed, quietly waiting her chance to break off and run to the second-hand store before it closed.
A door opened at the dock entrance and a short, muscular man emerged. “Evening, ladies!” he called. “Welcome all! Come right this way! Ho, ho, ho! For those of you who don't know, or just plain forgot, my name is Dave, and I'm in charge this evening.”
The women moved forward as a group. Jackie hung back. Lucy lit her cigarette and turned around to look at Jackie, who was standing still, gazing down the row of rear walls of stores. “What’s up, hon? It’s too late to turn back. We’re here.”
“The clothes store…” Jackie replied, gesturing. “The second-hand store. I told you: I want to get there before it closes.”
Lucy stared for a moment, open mouthed, calculating. Then she asked, as if she’d forgotten, “The second-hand store at the end of this mall?”
“Yes,” Jackie replied with a nod. “I told you.” How many times had she said it?
“It’ll be safer and easier to get there from inside the mall,” Lucy told her. “Come on. Come inside. You don’t want to be walking all that way in the dark, alone. Especially dressed like that.”
“Can I do that?” Jackie asked. “Can I get there from inside?”
“Of course you can, darling,” Lucy lied. “I just said so, didn’t I? Come on, now. We have to get inside.”
Jackie followed Lucy and the others into the building, and her heart sank. The general theme and decor of the loading dock continued inside: the interior was just as squalid as the exterior. The women found themselves in a huge room with an immensely high ceiling. The walls were far off and dingy. Everything was dingy, dirty, funky, unclean, unhygienic. There were half-hearted Christmas decorations fastened by brown packing tape to metal bookshelves placed here and there, and a makeshift bar on a long white plastic folding table covered with red stiff paper. There were plastic cups, big bottles of off-brand alcohol, and a cooler full of ice and cheap beer. There were open bags of chips and other snack foods on the table as well. Folding tables and chairs were arranged carelessly in the center.
Apart from that, the only other furnishings were beds. Unmade beds, beds without sheets, mattresses lying directly on the floor, all of them divided by drop cloths suspended between metal supports.
“Get ready, ladies!” the Dave called out. “You can leave your valuables in the lockers over there. If you don’t have a lock, I’ve got one for you. Make sure you remember your combinations, because we’ll charge you if we need to cut them open!”
The women shuffled over to the lockers. Lucy whispered to Jack, “Listen, in a minute I’ll show you how to get to your store. In the meantime, you can lock your stuff in here with mine just to keep it safe. Okay, hon?” She snatched Jackie’s tote bag from her hands and locked it away.
“No--” Jackie began to protest, but she was cut off by Dave.
“All right, ladies, are you ready? We’re going to let the Santas loose now. Big smiles! Everybody’s sexy and ready and hot and horny! Here we go!”
At that, a thin fellow with a droopy moustache opened a door in the far wall, and about two dozen men emerged, each dressed more or less as Santa Claus. They looked more creepy than jolly; their Santa suits were cheap, cheesy, and half-hearted at best. Half wore the cheapest of white wigs and fake beards -- so fake, they wouldn’t fool even the most gullible child.
At the sight of the Santas, Jackie had no doubt about what was happening here tonight: the women were prostitutes, hired as a body to service these disreputable Santas.
Jackie’s resolve solidified. She told herself, Get out of here NOW. It’s now or never. Get your stuff back from Lucy and high-tail it to the second-hand store! She turned to Lucy, and was startled to see that, from one moment to the next, Lucy had changed. Instead of the shambling, older-looking, overweight hustle, Lucy was beaming, glowing. In fact, she was beautiful. Her face, her smile were radiant, otherworldly. In a dreamy voice she cooed, “Do you feel it, hon? Has it hit you yet?”
The sight of Lucy in this state made Jackie incredibly angry. She balled up her fists and tightened her jaw. She wanted to punch the woman who’d led her on, who’d thrown roadblocks in front of her. Jackie needed her belongings back, and had no time or inclination for dealing with Lucy on drugs. But then again, a wild thought hit her: This is the perfect time to ask the question! and so she did: Grabbing Lucy’s arm, she said, “Lucy? Lucy? Have you ever been a man?”
Lucy laughed lightly. “A man? No, hon. Me? A man? Never! Have you?”
“Yes,” Jackie replied, gritting her teeth. “Just a couple hours ago.”
“Wow,” Lucy sighed, amazed, without comprehending. She turned to Jackie and bestowed a beatific smile. “That’s unbelievable! But listen, girl, don’t tell the Santas! It will kill whatever tiny erection they’ve managed to work up.”
Jackie suddenly understood the pinky-wagging gesture Lucy had made on the bus earlier. “Oh, shit,” she sighed.
“Yeah, baby,” Lucy agreed, breathlessly.
At that moment, the drug exploded in Jackie’s brain. Lucy, the room, everything in it -- and even Jackie herself --- transformed and seemed to burst into living, holy flame.
