Prohibition

Chapter 26

Pulling his pistol out, Raymond followed her inside. Evelyn was seated at the table with the prostitutes again. Raymond sat down at a table behind her and listened.

"You've heard of the Hull House?" Evelyn was saying. The prostitutes nodded. "I want to create a place like that here," Evelyn continued. "It will be a safe haven for anybody who needs one—but particularly for women."

"Why women?" one prostitute asked.

"Women are so often screwed over by men and left to fend for themselves. If we sleep with a man, we're called whores, but no one gives a damn how many women a man sleeps with. If we get pregnant outside of wedlock, we're ruined forever, but no one ever makes the father pay. And when a woman sells her body, she is condemned by society without a second thought as to why she might have done it. I want to change that. I want to create a safe haven for women of all ages and races, from all walks of life. I—"

"What makes you think we need a safe haven?" one of the prostitutes interrupted. Bruises mottled her neck and arms.

"Begging your pardon," Evelyn said politely, "but you're covered in bruises."

"So?" The prostitute smirked. "Me and Sean get a bit rough sometimes."

"Sean?"

"Her 'boyfriend'," another prostitute interjected. "Shut up, Kate, I want to hear what the lady has to say."

Evelyn smiled. "Thank you. What's your name?"

"Ava." Ava returned Evelyn's smile shyly. "I like your idea, miss," she said. "But I wasn't driven to prostitution. I took it up because I was too lazy for factory life and too stupid to go to school and my father threw me out of his house when I refused to get married."

"That's perfectly alright," Evelyn said with a friendly smile. "I'm not here to judge or reform you—I'm here to help you, in whatever way you need. So tell me what you need."

For a long moment, all the prostitutes were silent, avoiding Evelyn's gaze. Then one woman spoke. "A place to go to, just for a few hours each week would be nice," she mumbled. Several other prostitutes nodded their assent.

"Ok," Evelyn said, writing the suggestion down on a slip of paper. "What else?" Suddenly, all the prostitutes had suggestions, from new clothing to medical care. As Evelyn scribbled furiously, their voices spilled over each other like water bursting from a dam.

"Ok girls, that's enough," an older woman said, stepping up to the table. Once, she must have been beautiful. Now, crows' feet lined her bright blue eyes and streaks of gray frosted her golden-red hair. Yet, despite her weathered appearance, threadbare clothes, and raunchy surroundings, she stood tall and proud as she faced Evelyn. "I am the woman in charge here," she said, shooing the prostitutes away and sitting down at the table.

"Pleased to meet you," Evelyn replied.

"Yes, you too." The woman fell silent for a moment, then sighed heavily. "What are you doing?" she demanded.

"What do you mean?" Evelyn's voice was puzzled.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm working to create a settlement house specifically designed to help women. I was just talking to your girls about—"

"I know what you were talking about," the woman interrupted. "And I know what you want to create and why. My question is, why here? Do you have any idea what you're meddling with?"

"I'm not here to take your girls away, ma'am," Evelyn said politely. "I'm simply trying to make their lives more comfortable."

"I see." The woman smiled tightly and lit a cigarette. "What happens when they decide your life of comfort is preferable to the life they lead now? What happens when they leave?"