“Jamie” {Vol. 1, No. 1}

 

2016-04-17 Storyboard

I.

I remember the day I found Jamie’s car in the woods behind an abandoned car lot.  The windows were gone, and the doors long since rusted shut.  An old nest of dried twigs and scrap paper was scattered in the back seat.

A pink, vinyl high heel shoe peeked out from under the front seat.

II.I first met Jamie when our mutual friend Juniper booked us for a client as a double show. We met in the parking lot outside ten minutes before the appointment to share a cigarette, wondering what the client wanted with a straight girl (me) and a transexual (Jamie).   She was bright and funny, dressed in a pink feathered wing number the client had requested. We immediately liked each other.

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Jamie and I became close over the next few years, sharing war stories, lamenting whatever jerks we happened to be hung up on at the time, marching with our friends at sex worker rallies. She sometimes had a tougher time in the business as a trans sex worker.  Never as many clients.  Lower rates.  Her clients tended to be less well-behaved than my escort clients, too, pulling shit mine would never dream of.

III.

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I reached in through the car window and picked up the pink shoe, turning it  over and feeling the hot sting of tears well up behind my eyes.  Definitely Jamie’s.  She hadn’t been heard from for almost three months.  I stuffed the shoe in my bag and left.

 

 

 

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