UNHINGED

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There she was, the unbuttoned girl who didn’t know right from wrong, who always took the path over thorny ground. Demented in heart and void of conscious. Squeezing the life out of my bordello one person at a time until she did it to herself.

And I never saw it coming. Never saw her falling into the depths of insanity. I did what needed doing. I protected my business. I had her transported to Southwestern Insane Asylum and never told a soul except Reba. And not once did I visit her.

I made a pact with myself. No regrets for what I was about to do.

 

Excerpt from The Last Bordello

 

Daily word prompt: Thorny

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Flawed or Innocent?

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Why couldn’t wives see the similarities between themselves and a whore?

“He’s a client,” Sofie continued. “But watch, when he sees me, he’ll turn away. So will his wife.”

The man looked away, just as she thought.

“You can’t speak to him?”

Innocent Meta. “Never.” “Speaking to them in public would only break Miss Fannie’s Code of Silence. It goes with the territory. Besides, if we broke Fannie’s trust? We’d be out on the street nothing flat. Folks have tried to buy her black book of customer names but nothing doing. When the Wild Bunch stayed with us, she wouldn’t even give them up to the great Mr. Pinkerton.”

“I’m sorry, what does she call it again? A code of…”

“Silence. A code of silence.” Curious how Meta seemed more fascinated by Miss Fannie’s code than with the Wild Bunch. The bank robbers were the guests of honor at the going-away party Miss Fannie gave them two years after she arrived. The wrongdoers, pleasant and entertaining, the lavish event stood out in her memory with fondness. Perhaps she had a penchant for those who could smile at their criminal endeavors when they never  get caught.

Excerpt from Naked, She Lies by C. Dennis-Willingham

Daily word prompt: Penchant

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The Madam

Never, ever, will I regret saving that woman from the hangman’s noose eleven years ago. That good-for-nothing she killed deserved being plugged. Even so, a Negro woman who murdered a white man might as well start braiding her own rope.

“’Nough mess … ” Parts of her newest grumble bounced from the parlor into the kitchen. I muzzled my laughter then I heard the thwack, thwack of a dishtowel slapping the velvet settees–Reba’s version of dusting.

Without Reba Mae Tyler, I wouldn’t be grinning at the cash stacked on my desk and organized by denominations. Who better than me, and my five-foot-three-of-nothing-but-glory best friend, to earn this kind of money?

Madam Volvino down the road would have scammed the Wild Bunch. I pictured that dollymop charging a lesser fee for her bawdyhouse services then afterward, jiggling her fat rump straight to the law to collect the one grand in bounty—one grand for Butch alone.

Excerpt from The Last Bordello by C. Dennis-Willingham

 

Organize– daily word prompt

The crooning crowd

“Prostitution is a sin. Prostitution is a sin.” The crooning continued.

Ugh. My blood boiled. I thought of ignoring them, but John said they were a persistent bunch. Even when thrown out of saloons they remained outside badgering customers.

“We expose an evil vice. Are you men or are you mice?”

I wanted to yell, “Yes, for an admission price.” They wouldn’t appreciate the humor.

Floyd, the client who had left dissatisfied the night Sadie had gone to the meeting, nudged Lillie off his lap and ambled toward me. “What the hell’s going on out there?”

“Protestors, hon.”

“Cain’t you get rid of them?”

Only one reason these women knew about my bordello. Sadie. And, since Mayor Hicks had sat in on her interrogation, he must have told Mrs. Stoddard where she worked. A sly devil, I’d give him that much. I’d also give him a whack with my broom, maybe shove it up his bloated ass next time I saw him.

Firecrackers popped.

I moved closer to the window and spotted the bocce cap outside to the left.

A woman shrieked. “They’re shooting at us.”

Enough! I smoothed my dress and opened the door. “Ladies, ladies. No one is shooting at you. And Giovanni, stop it this instant.”

“You!” Another woman yelled out to me. “You house prostitutes and liars.”

I stood firm. “Prostitutes, yes. At least that part is correct.”

“That girl of yours took our Marcy’s scarf. She knows more than she’s telling.”

A new client approached and stood next to Floyd, also out of view.

“Madam Fannie,” Floyd whispered behind the door. “We’re gonna skedaddle. We didn’t bargain for an ugly women chant show.”

I trailed my fingers along his cheek. “Floyd, darlin’. They won’t come in. You can do your business and no one will be the wiser. Go back and sit down. Enjoy yourselves. The women outside think all men are ignorant of their wants. But look at the pretty girls you’ve left on the settee. They’ve been waiting all day for you, and they know exactly what you want,” I winked.

“They can’t come in?” his friend asked.

“No, sir. This house is made of stone, my friend.” And a lot of manipulative persuasion. “Now look behind you. See what you’re missing.”

Both men turned. Lillie held a sensuous finger just inside her mouth. Greta rubbed the inside of her thick thigh.

Floyd and his friend returned to the waiting girls who smartly escorted them upstairs. I opened the door wider. “Now, ladies. It’s time for y’all to be mozying along. Obviously, you’re not interested in anything in here. Or are you?” my words flirted.

Reba nudged me. “Tell them maggots to let Jesus calm their storm.”

“Should I wash their feet too, Rebie?” I whispered.

“No need goin’ that far,” she whispered back.

Excerpt from The Last Bordello by C. Dennis-Willingham

Amble -daily word prompt

Wrong place at the right time?

If I weren’t so frightened, it would, or could be, comical. I felt plunked into the pages of a lecherous novel.

Greta and Lillie wore corsets that barely covered their nipples. Their legs shimmered inside shiny silk stockings attached with garters. Trying to be nonchalant, I squinted in the dim light and read Greta’s novelty garter atop her thick thigh. “Good things come high,” it read.

Sassy Sarah and Sadie both wore dresses pitched long in the back but rose above their knees in the front.

Another thought amused me. Except for Miss Fannie, I felt overdressed. A farm girl is rarely overdressed.

Excerpt from The Last Bordello by C. Dennis-Willingham

Shimmer– daily word prompt

If it crawls up your drawers

“So’s what she found a scarf? Who wouldn’t pick it up if it weren’t attached to a person?” Reba’s hands might have been in the kitchen when Meta came home, but her ears were everywhere in the house. She knew what had happened.

“It belongs to that missing Temperance girl, Rebie.”

“And ‘member that red hat I’s left at Market Square? Belongs to somebody else now. That Sadie might have a stubborn streak miles long, but she wouldn’t hurt a Bumble bee ‘less it crawled up her drawers.”

Had it? Had the Temperance women hovered over her, gotten too close? Invaded her safety? Sadie had become a barbed-wire fence that kept others out or, perhaps herself in.

What was Sadie keeping from me?

Excerpt from The Last Bordello

daily word prompt: Bumble

The Brute at the Butcher Shop

Savage. An appropriate name for a butcher.

The door ajar, the stench of raw meat penetrated my nose, but the familiar voice inside stopped me from running past. “Hold on, Sadie.”

“What?” Sadie bent down, retying her bootlaces.

I peeked inside the butcher shop. Miss Reba stared up at the burly man towering over her. “No sir, you must’a misunderstood I’s just—”

“Don’t tell me I misunderstood.” He drew his arm across his chest then slapped Miss Reba across the face with the back of his hand. She tumbled sideways, her head smacking the edge of a table before she hit the floor.

“Colored’s always have to wait,” he added.

My blood curdled as I rushed to her side. “Miss Reba!”

“What have you done?” Sadie yelled behind me.

I knelt beside Miss Reba. “Ach Gott. Are you all right?”

She moaned and lifted a limp hand to the side of her head where blood dripped onto the floor.

“She needs to wait her turn, ain’t that right butcher?” the brute said.

Mr. Savage stood there, his mouth open. The patrons gasped and whispered. No one came forth. What was wrong with these people?

Sadie glared at the man and reached inside her small black purse. She unfolded a man’s shaving knife, stood and approached him. “If I pricked you with this, you’d squeal like a stuck pig.”

My mind blurred. What does it take to kill someone? To sacrifice one’s self for a cause?

The bearded man pointed a finger at Sadie. “Whoa, now girlie …”

“And then, our butcher will take you for a hog,” she said. “After hanging you on a meat hook, he’ll slit you from neck to belly until you bleed out. Isn’t that right, Mr. Savage?”

Mr. Savage blinked a few times and cleared his throat. “Sadie, you best look after Miss Reba there.”

The abuser’s nostrils flared. He pointed a finger inches from Sadie’s face. “You need to shut that vulgar trap ‘a yours, Missy. Surely you got a sheriff in town who can lock you up for pulling a weapon on me.”

“ Unmensch! Her weapon?” My words hurled forth, surprising me. “Your hand was a weapon! You hurt Miss Reba.”

Sadie glanced side to side. “We have the best county sheriff in the state. Looks like he’s not here right now. So, the next time any of us return to purchase pork, including this fine lady on the floor bleeding the same color red as everyone else, you might be the pig we get to eat.”

The man clenched both hands into fists. “Why you …”

Excerpt from The Last Bordello

Savage

Bootlicker

“Do you have news for us?” Miss Fannie asked.

“Some of it funny.” He turned to Miss Reba. “A Snack?

“If you catch this here.” Miss Reba tossed him a biscuit.

Giovanni caught it and took a bite. “Okay,” he said, chewing. “Last night on my way home I went to check on Sadie. She was standing on the curb. Clayton Lamont was with her.” He glanced in my direction. “We were right, Meta. He lives across the street from Aunt Amelia.”

Miss Fannie pinched her lips and let in a sharp inhale.

Miss Reba squinted a stern look. “What you talking about? That same man who threw his hands ‘round Sadie’s throat?”

“Yep,” Giovanni continued. “Someday, I’m going to own a three-button pinstripe suit like he was wearing. A real beaut. Anyway, I sat on the curb close enough to hear. Sadie caught my eye but didn’t let on she saw me.” He stuffed the remaining biscuit in his mouth, chomping as he stared out the kitchen window.

“I’s could fried green tomatoes in the time it take you to—”

“Get to the point,” Miss Fannie snarled, interrupting Miss Reba.

“Okay, okay.” Giovanni stuck his thumbs behind imaginary lapels and faced his audience. “Lamont said, ‘Miss Dubois’,” Giovanni lowered his voice to base. “’I don’t think we have been properly introduced’. Told her he’d been rude and callous. Sadie stammered out, ‘pleasure to meet you,’ real nervous-like. When she asked why he moved across the street he said, well, what he said is something I’m going to remember if I ever meet a girl I’m smitten with. He said, ‘when a good man needs to apologize for a misdeed, he finds a way.’”

“Bootlicker,” Miss Fannie said.

Daily prompt: Snack

Not Invited

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Madam Fannie Porter

There he stood, the man whose cleft chin always reminded me of a bare ass. “Well, well, well, Mayor Marshall Hicks. What can I do for you?”

“May I come in?”

I hesitated, my eyes scouring him from head to toe. “What do you need Mayor? I’ve paid my dues.”

“It’s about Sadie.”

“What about her? She’s upstairs sleeping.”

A thunderbolt cracked. The puffed rooster Cringed. “Can I come in?”

“For a minute. I have things to do.”

I opened the door wide enough for him to squeeze through. Too wide would seem like an invitation and asking him to sit a spell was out of the question.

He removed his hat and hung his rain jacket on the hook by the door. Now inside, he took an uninvited seat in the parlor—the same chair William Pinkerton sat on when asking about the Wild Bunch. Not a good omen.

Excerpt from The Last Bordello

Daily word prompt: Cringe

Fear

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I blamed my restless sleep on the killer who remained a mere Illusion lurking in the dark.

Never in my life had I been so scared. Last night the waves of maelstrom pulled me under and made it hard to breathe. Seeing Sadie bloodied on Mrs. Carver’s porch was bad enough. Thinking of Aunt Amelia in danger ripped ribbons of terror throughout my limbs. When I knew she was unharmed, and nausea had passed, I had asked my waiting driver to summon Sheriff Tobin. He arrived fifteen minutes later at the crime scene but after that, he never came to the bordello. I wondered why.

Excerpt from The Last Bordello

Daily photo prompt: Illusion