Free A Gray Life: a novel by Red Harvey Page A

sit down again.
    “When we left the store, He was parked down the street, waiting for us. As we walked past, He told us to get against the wall. Michael refused and He threw me against the wall. That’s when Michael got tasered for trying to help me. Both of us ended up in the back of His car for public drunkenness and assaulting an officer.
    “We were still kind of drunk, but the situation had sobered us enough that we were able to notice He wasn’t driving near a police station. By the time we realized the trouble we were really in, He had locked us in the spare room of the basement.”
    When she finished, I asked her another question on my mind.
    “Why can’t you and Michael get back together?”
    During her story, she had continued staring at no one corner in particular. However, at my question, her head came around sharply.
    “Nothing you did before matters.” I told her before she could answer. “You both should know that.”
    From the way he shifted on his pallet, I could tell Michael overheard at least part of our conversation.
    * * * *

10

    T he basement was the man’s true home. There was a large desk in the shape of a semi-circle. It held five computers, and other pieces of technological equipment Ashley had no name for. Beyond the stairs was a second room. The door was open: she peeked in to see a fully furnished bedroom. She bumped into a doorknob behind her.
    “That’s to the bathroom.” Richie Rich said. “Now,” he settled in a chair in front of his computers, “before I start, I have to know how old.”
    “I’m--, ”
    Juniper cut Ashley off. “Sixteen.”
    Richie didn’t give his opinion on the answer. He click-clacked away on his computer.
    About a minute later, he waved Ashley to come closer. “I need to get a headshot.”
    It sounded like he wanted to hurt her. She didn't move forward, she only shook her head no.
    "They'll be no shots fired. Can I leave, please?" The door was far away, but not if she ran.
    Juniper and Richie laughed.
    "No, not shots like from a gun, silly girl." Juniper said. "Shots like for a photograph."
    Ashley face flushed red. The two adults were smiling at her, not mockingly, but she still felt dumb for confusing photography with guns. Too much violence witnessed had kept her mind focused on the subject.
    Richie pointed for her to stand in front of a small camera on his desk.
    “Smile.”
    Ashley did not smile.
    Richie snapped the photograph anyway. He gestured to indicate they were done for the moment.
    As Ashley was walking over to where Juniper stood, he asked for her name. Getting help from strangers went against her tiny gut feelings.
    "Can't you just make one up?"
    Richie tilted his head. "I can, but you might forget it and mess things up for yourself."
    She decided to let go and follow directions without question. The two strangers were helping her without asking questions, and so far they didn't want anything in return. Ashley hoped later they weren't expecting something she couldn't give.
    “Ashley Delia Heard.”
    “Thanks, Ashley.” Click, clack. Clickety, click, click, clack.
    Juniper and Ashley stood near the stairs for five minutes before Richie remembered they were there. “You two can sit over there.” He nodded at the couch across the room. “This is gonna take a bit to print out.”
    When they were settled on the couch, Ashley took the time to ask some questions. “Who is this guy?”
    Juniper chuckled. “I was waiting for that. You must’ve figured out he’s not my pimp.”
    Ashley coughed. She hoped the noise would deter Juniper from noticing the red creeping into her cheeks.
    “No, it’s okay . I know what I am, but I wasn’t always.” She said the words lightly, as though she were referring to a medical condition and not her career choice. “I met Christopher in college. He’s my only friend these days.”
    “College? ” Ashley was shocked. “Did you graduate?”
    “Uh-huh.”
    For the space of two breaths, Ashley