Twisted Tales Contest Entry
(1707 words) Grey Travels to the Red Light District
The red light district, on Hay street in CrossRoads, North Carolina, that was where Grey was traveling. His 1970's VW pop-top van was about maxed out on mileage. It didn't matter though, all he could think about was seeing her, Scarlette.
As a young adult, Grey had often parked his VW for camping. It provided a refuge for him, and he preferred to use a train for longer travels. Now that he had survived into middle age, he had started using the van for traveling. Though Scarlette had never seen the VW, somehow it reminded him of her; he was using it as a part-time home when they met, on a train, all those years ago.
It had been almost twenty years since that fateful day when they crossed paths. Scarlette was riding the train back to her home near the red light district in CrossRoads. She lived with her sister who worked in the Call-Girl business. Grey was headed to the red light district, for the first time in his life, in search of a prostitute. He never told this to Scarlette.
As the train's loud sigh and hypnotic clanging started, the pair noticed each other. Grey was dressed in dark, pleated pants, a floral-ish button-up shirt, and a black artist baret hat. His strongest feature was his hooked roman nose which complimented his olive skin, soft brown eyes, and dark wavy hair. Scarlette wore a black, gentleman's walking hat; her copper curls underneath fell down to her shoulders. Her fitted, navy, smooth-denim shirt covered the waist of her navy knee skirt. Black mid-calf boots balanced her matching hat.
Somehow the romance, of the train ride, had allowed the two young travelers to drop their guard and confide as if they were writing in their own private diary. Grey turned around in the seat he had moved to, one seat in front of Scarlette, and they told each other about there lives.
Looking out the window into the distance, Scarlette told Grey how her parents had been killed when she was five years old. "My older sister worked, as a prostitute, to support my brothers and me" Scarlette said, emphasizing the word prostitute. "I can't stand to think about her making that kind of sacrifice for me. I don't think I can ever leave CrossRoads. I can't leave my sister and she can't leave the business." Grey looked at Scarlette intensely and put his hand on her arm. "Her boyfriend makes money off her and leaves every time she quits." Scarlette took a long deep breath and exhaled slowly. "But I can get away once or twice a year. I can take the train to see my brother." Her eyes lilted into a tiny smile as she looked at Grey's face. "How long have you been living like this." Gray asked. "For the last ten years, I've been taking caring of her. I cook and clean for us, work two jobs and, when she's home, I usually lie in bed with her until she can go to sleep." Grey looked at her, his brows furrowed in thought, "I'm sorry you have to live like this. How can you have a life of your own?" He asked with obvious concern. "She sacrificed her life for me I can do the same for her." Scarlette answered resolutely.
Grey saw a lost little girl quality in Scarlette. She was trying hard to be a mother to her sister, but the uncried tears, that glossed her blue eyes, showed how much she herself needed a mother. Grey wanted to put his arms around Scarlette and hold her but her posture had become erect, her shoulders held back, as she quickly ended her narrative and asked Grey about his life. Grey admired the courage and fortitude, he had already seen in Scarlette, that now reflected in her eyes.
Grey's own mother had been absent for much of his youth. His father a workaholic that rarely had time for Gray. "I was painfully shy and spent a lot of time reading and playing my music. On weekends, I would sit alone out back, with the crickets, and play my guitar until two in the morning. Eventually though, I figured out how to talk with people by going to week-long music festivals." Scarlette nodded. "The free-spirit types there were easier to be around than most people." Scarlette nodded, again, knowingly. Grey confessed that, even at the festivals, he felt he fit in better by drinking alcohol and doing mushrooms. "I thought I was Jesus almost the entire week one time, and that is scarey." As he was finishing his sentence, Grey looked up at the ceiling, on the bus, and stared. He looked as though he was in another world. His eyes were glazed, and his body stiffened. Scarlette called his name several times before she got his attention. "I'm sorry" he said quietly "sometimes I just start remembering things."
Grey and Scarlette had shared much conversation, that day on the train, before he told her that he was married. It was because of his marriage that he wouldn't be able to see her again for many years.
He had wanted to tell her earlier but felt there was never enough break in conversation. In addition to their personal histories, they had talked about their common interests in reading, art, music, and almost anything unconventional. They had laughed about the presentation of some of the other passengers. They laughed the most about the man with a hearing aid and an ear ring in the same ear. They had made up funny fiction stories about the lives of various passengers in their line of view. Neither had laughed so much in quite a while. The connection they felt, in four short hours, was profound and powerful.
At first, a deep heaviness began welling inside of Scarlette's chest when Gray divulged his marital status to her. Not wanting Grey to see, she turned her head away from him. "My wife and I live entirely separate lives." He truthfully told Scarlette. He then felt compelled to confess that he could never leave his wife. Though Grey would never admit it, his wife provided him with the structure and security he so needed. She mothered him which caused him to feel a deep loyalty to her.
Scarlette paused for a long time, after Grey's confession, but eventually told Grey she understood. She realized that he could have avoided mentioning the marriage at all. Grey wanted desperately to see Scarlette again. However, she told him not to call her as long as he was married. She knew her life was already much too complicated.
Grey did not go look for a prostitute that day as planned. When Scarlette departed, he simply stayed on the train.
Almost twenty years went by and the two never abandoned thinking about each other... wondering about each other.
After an unhappy, exhausting, eight-teen year marriage, Grey's wife passed away from an extended illness. Grey continued his coinciding friendship with wine, beer and bourbon. Soon after his wife's death, Grey renewed his interest in music festivals. He brought out his 1970's VW pop top van and started traveling.
Time had taken a toll on Grey. Alcoholism had began to wither slowly, but permantly, at his once sharp brain. Even in his "AA" drinking respites, some who knew him were beginning to wonder if he was going mad.
His life plans no longer had much that was, on the surface, linear or logical about them. His circular planning seemed to involve a wider and wider scope of ways to achieve his goal. Many times, he told his friends he was traveling to the red light district in CrossRoads, NC to find Scarlette. Ultimately, his plans always brought him back to the same place, alone.
As the months passed by, Grey began sleeping in his VW. He kept it parked just outside of his house. He would drive his van during the day time, and the neighbors had often seen him driving around in the neighborhood. Still though, he insisted that he had spent his days driving to CrossRoads... looking for Scarlette. His days left him disappointed... his nights remained lonely.
But, all this was, all this was two years ago; now, now things were different. He had made it back to the red light district; and he had found his Scarlette!
As finally his long fingers reached out to stroke Scarlette's lightly blushing face, he heard a voice.
"Time for morning meds," the voice pierced through his vision like sirens wailing. A loud page was heard over the intercom, and a red light flashed in the background. Grey had been in the state psychiatric hospital for two months now; but there had been no change in his condition. This was the closest he had gotten to Scarlette. This was the first time he had touched her face.
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