The Belle of Vicksburg
-3-
I Think My New Name Will Be Ashley Christina Hull!

Time was of the essence, it was already three o' clock in the afternoon. I knew mom would be home in about an hour, my older sister Amy would also be home soon. Amy was a cheerleader and had been staying late to perfect their newest stunts. Anyway, I could feel time slipping through my hands. I knew I had to act fast, but not too fast, there was an old saying that grandmother was fond of. And that was, haste makes waste. I had to move with a purpose. And so I took a deep breath. I was already dressed, good that meant the first step had already been done. The next thing was to collect my wallet and my phone.

Once those items had been collected, I started down the stairs. Quickly I walked into the kitchen, I scanned the counter top till my eyes fell on a pad of yellow legal paper. A fountain pen could be seen sitting by the table. I started toward the pad and quickly picked up the pen and then in my best handwriting I wrote the following note.

“Mom,” That was a good start, as good as any I guess. “Going to the shop to pick up some milk and eggs. Call or text me, should be home in about an hour or two.” I spoke each word aloud as I wrote it down. I then took another deep breath and signed the note “Ash” and then I wrote the down date and the time. I pinned the note to the fridge using one of the baker's dozen or so magnets that dotted the fridge. Mom loved to collect fridge magnets.

With that done I poked my house key and bolted out the door. Making sure the door was locked behind me. Okay that was done. And my heart was racing like a warhorse now. Quickly I pulled out my phone and after a few minutes of googling I found the number I was looking for. Vicksburg Taxi Services.

Now, Vicksburg does have a trolley, kind of hold over from the olden days. But it only runs through the so called 'Historical District' that so say downtown and the surrounding neighborhoods of Clay, Cherry and China. Those neighborhoods are filled to the brim with historical homes and Southern Gothic looking churches. So unless you felt like walking, which I did not, or riding your bike, which I did not, then your best bet was to call upon one of the city's taxi services. None which really frilled me. But then again beggars can't be choosers.

So with that in mind, I picked up my phone and dialed the first number that I came across. A few seconds later a gruff sounding man picked up on the other end of the line. He sounded drunk or hung over. His accent was thick, and he sounded like one of the river rats that lived on houseboats on the river. He also sounded creole, which marked him as somebody from across the old iron river bridge. That to say he came from the Louisiana side of the river.

“Good afternoon, thank you for calling Vicksburg Taxi Service. This is Big Russel, what can I do for you? He muttered over the phone. I swear I could have smelled the beer on his breath.

I paused and took a deep breath as I tried to collect my thought that at that very moment had been scattered to the four corners of the earth. A name that is one thing I'd not thought of, a name, and I needed one, I needed one quick, fast and in a hurry. I must have been taking too long to think of a name because a few seconds later the gruff voice on the other end of the line tuned in and said.

“Hey! Are you still there kid? I'm burning mother fucking daylight here? This better not be some prank call? I promise you kid if this is a prank call I'll come down there and fatten your lip!”

I took a deep breath and silently under my breath I repeated the phrase 'Heat from fire, fire from heat' . It was supposed to be a phrase that transgender people used when they were training their voices. Not that I was transgender, at least I don't think I am. I just found it useful when I did Roleplaying sessions with my friends. I mean I often played female characters, so I had to sound like a girl right?

“What is your name and address kid? A phone number would be nice too. That way one of my guys can call you when he gets there. That is, if this is a real call and not some prank Cause let me tell you something, if this some smart ass kid's idea of a prank then there is  going to be  hell to  pay. I promise you that, I will personally take great delight in busting the big, fat lips of some smart ass kid who sends one of my guys halfway across this rotten town to pick somebody up and only jinxes him in the end.”

“Ashley Christina Hull.” I said after a few tense seconds. “459 Willard Lane. It's kind of the swampy looking house toward the back of the neighborhood. It's the house that looks toward the Yazoo River. Look for the house with a yellow mailbox that has a huge Sunflower painted on the left side of it. I'll be outside waiting on your guy. My phone number is 662-891-1654.” I said rattling off my information like I was some kind of inhuman robot.

“Oh okay. I'm going to send one of my guys out. He should be there in about ten or so minutes.” He said with a clearly annoyed tone of voice. And with that he hung the phone up.

I took a deep breath and hung the phone up. Then I started to sink down to the floor. My heart was racing like a racehorse. What in the name of God and all the saints have I gotten myself into. I closed my eyes and folded my arms across my chest. The truth was starting to finally dawn on me. The simple, honest truth: I'd been hoodwinked into wearing a skirt tomorrow. And in order to make this work and not make a total fool out of myself I had to learn in a short twelve hours how to walk in a skirt, how to sit down in a skirt and how to move about with exposing myself.

I did not have long to think about that. For soon my phone was buzzing off. I looked down and noticed the number appearing on the cracked and dirty screen was a new one. It took a few, longer than I would have liked seconds of hard debating before I decided to accept the ball. A rough, masculine voice answered on the other line.

“Hey. I'm supposed to pick  Ashley Christina Hull from this place.” The voice said.

“And who might this be?” I asked with a little too much pepper. “Sorry.” I quickly added once I caught the tone of my voice. I quickly added. “I had a pretty rough day at school. So I'm a little on edge.”

The guy on the other end muttered something along the lines of “Smart Mouth Kids” and “Kids these days need a good slapping to keep them in line.” Or that's what I thought he said. It was just a jumble of words. I barely understood one word in ten. Finally he said,

“Okay let's start over.” He said, taking a deep breath. “Good afternoon, this is Joe Dirt from Vicksburg Taxi Service. I'm here because a girl called Ashley Christina Hull called down to the station requesting a lift and this is the address she gave. I'm going to give about five more minutes before I decide enough is enough and pull off. If you're her. Get out here and let's get this show on the road. I got a line of people waiting and I'm losing money here.”
Joe Dirt seemed annoyed and a little tense.

“Oh! Yes I'm so sorry!” I bowed as I felt the phone to my ear. “I'll be right out sir!” I added it quickly. I then hung up, I took a deep breath as I slipped my phone into my pocket and checked my face once more in the mirror that hung in the hallway. I quickly made a mental note to add a tube of lip gloss to my list of items I would need for tomorrow.

“I might as well add eyeliner and mascara to that too!” I said as I bolted out the door and turned upon my heel and made sure the door was locked before I skipped off the front porch. And as I expected a yellow and black checkered taxi cab was waiting for me in our concrete driveway.

I smiled and opened the door and slipped right in. I then closed the door and buckled myself up. I then peered toward the driver and tried my best to seem natural, I said.

“Hey, I'm sorry for taking so long. But I had to fix my face. You never know when a cute boy might show up.” I said blushing a little. It sounded better in my head. Trust me, it sounded way better in my head.

“So. Where are we going sweetheart? Not planning on running away are you? Cause I don't do that mess. I mean I can drive you down to the train station or the bus stop. After that you're on your own. I mean if I see your face plastered to the side of Wal-Mart tomorrow morning. I'm not going to call anyone or leave a tip or report you missing.” The driver was rambling now.

“No.” I said cutting him off. “I just need you to run me to Wal-Mart out on the highway. I need to do a few last minute things for tonight's dinner and it's too far for me to bike.” I said, taking a deep breath. “I'm not running away from home either. Trust me, if I was running away from home, I'd have more on me than just my purse.” I said blowing out a stream of hot air.

“Whatever kid.” He said as started to back out of our driveway.

“I'm not a kid!” I said again with a little too much pepper. “I have a name you know!” I added again, again with a little too much pepper.

“Okay, what is your name then little miss?” He muttered as he finished backing out of the driveway and onto the road. A few minutes later we were zooming our way down to Wal-Mart, the cheapest place in town to buy groceries and the only place in town that sold school uniforms. Well school uniforms for us public school kids.

“Ashley Christina Hull.” I said without giving it a second thought. My mother, often told me, normally after having one or two glasses of red wine have a really hard day working the E.R that had I'd been born a girl instead of a boy, that she would have given me the first name of Ashley, she would have given me that name to honor her older sister who had passed away when she was Junior High from Leukemia. She figured giving me her name would have been a way of keeping at least part of her alive and honoring her memory.

The second name Christina was my grandmother's name. Grandmother was one hell of a woman. She was a strong woman, having buried one daughter and raised another to productive womanhood. Even in her advanced age she maintained a zest for living and often traveled the world.

And Hull had been my mothers maiden name. She had been a Shoemaker before she and my dad had split apart following a really nasty fight that had started when mom found dad in bed with the next store neighbor. With a dozen used condoms scattered about on the floor. After the split she gave up that name and reclaimed her maiden name. So yes, to me the name made perfect sense and better yet there was some history behind it.

“Okay Ashley Christina Hull. I'll try to remember that name just in case your pretty face gets put on the side of a milk carton. I'll try to remember your face too. Heck I'll even go ahead and light an Votive candle for you down at Holy Trinity Roman Catholic Church.” He muttered as he pulled out onto the Highway.

I took a deep breath and heaved another heavy sigh.

“Thanks.” I paused. “Thanks for that Joe Dirt.”

“Call me Maurice. That the name my mom gave me when I popped out of her pussy forty years ago at Mercy Hospital. The one that located on Clay Street, the one that rumored to haunted by the nurse, what you kid's call her 'Nurse Spooky'. Anyway she was a big fan of the Steven Miller Band. Their all time classic song The Joker just happened to be playing on the radio at the time. I just go by Joe Dirt cause I'm from across the river. Listen kid. I like you, I don't know if Ashley Christina Hull is your real name or not. But I have a daughter around your age, she is attending All Saints Academy right now. Anyway this ride is on the house, if your really going to Wal-Mart that is.” Maurice said as he looked up into the rear view mirror and peered into the back seat.

“Thank you. Yes, I'm going to Wal-Mart. And if you could, could you please come back and pick me up in about forty or so minutes?” I asked as I looked out the window.

“Sure. Is that number you gave my boss your house number or your personal cell phone number?” Maurice said as he pulled into the crowded Wal-Mart parking lot.

“That is my personal number.” I said blushing a little as I waited for him to stop the car.

“Aright kid. Here what I'm going to do, I'm going to give you an hour to get your things and get back here. I'll give you a call when that hour is up. And then I'll drive you home. Now I'm not going to charge you this time, cause I figured this is something you need to do.” Maurice said as he peered at me. “But don't take advantage of me, okay? Listen to me kid, this town is full of thugs, its a rough town. And a pretty girl like you out by yourself. Well, not trying to scare you or anything, but she can end up drugged and sold into one of those houses of pleasure they have across the river. And like I said before, I have a  little girl around your age. And I worry about her sometimes.”

I blinked and blinked again. I was confused, had he really mistaken me for a girl? I mean I was flattered, I wanted to present myself as a young woman. In fact I had to make my plan work. But there was something about the man's words that chilled me to the core. What did he mean by how pretty young girls often found themselves getting drugged and solid into a cat house? And what was a cat house anyway?

“Okay thank you sir.” I said as I opened the door and stepped into the crowded parking lot. I closed the door behind me and watched Maurice drive away. Once he was gone I peered toward the massive concrete building. It was time to take the plunge into girlhood I suppose