"Leave it like that. I like it."We got off three blocks up from my stop and I followed him to the motel on the corner. He ordered me to go in and get a room and I pointed out that, dressed like I was and without luggage they might not let me have one.He thought about that and said, "Okay. Go ahead and button up. Now, go get a room and come back out here and get me."I hurried in and got the room. I got some nasty looks from the desk clerk. But he didn't say anything. I gave him my credit card and waited for him to run it. The supreme irony of being in the position of having to pay for a room so that some strange man could rape me did not escape me.I filled out the registration card and then went out and led the man to our room. On the way to the room I asked him to let me call my boss and tell my boss why I was late.Once in the room he used his cell phone to call in sick. Then he told me to call my boss, after I undressed. I slipped out of my blouse and skirt and he saw the bar in my. This place was so strange that he had no frame of reference on which to draw to decide how to act. He found it strange that a little girl would want to be his friend when they'd only just met. Always before he'd had to jump through all kinds of social hoops to establish his place in the hierarchy of whatever place he was living in. Sometimes that involved doing things for people. Sometimes that involved fighting. Sometimes it involved comparing stories and the intricate social dance that was casual conversation between people who are forced into close contact with each other.But here, in this place where he had done nothing other than eat until his stomach ached, where he had said not one word, somebody had drawn near to him simply because he couldn't talk. It was an amazing social experiment that he'd never have thought of getting involved in, but which was suddenly fascinating. Not knowing what else to do, he decided to just sit. The little girl wasn't hurting anything. As long as.
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