I arrived in summer and Gainesville was 60 miles south-central from where I  landed.  Well I was given my walking papers, and I left with my pockets literally full of money credits (what paper money was called).  I also had a back pack full of exotic gold coins.

I got out of the service without any bad habits.  Lots of screwups were around me in the army,  It’s a wonder they didn’t get me killed.  Most of them spent whatever merit bonus or pay on wives, women or happy juice.  It was all the same , if it was spent, the merchant had it and you didn’t.  All five years I was in we went from one battle to another and plundered several hundred towns.  Mostly all the valuables human and portable things were gathered up and sold to merchants who transported same to big places like Gainesville for high profit sales.

So I was surely not really rich when I got out.  Really rich was something more than what I could carry in my back pack and pockets.  I got out with most of my pay and plunder bonsus’ and a vast knowledge of guns  and explosives.  My head and pockets were full.

I rode surface trolley into the town of Jax.  Then I found a bus South to Gainesville.  I knew Gainesville was called ‘Hog City’, it was a FREE ENTERPRISE CITY, there were few police and little taxation.  The main tax was one credit to enter in the city.  Once you were in you were in,  a citizen of sorts.  Some places you had to own land to ever be part of a community.

On the bus south a blond girl got on at Lake City, one with long curly hair, she looked rather clean.  I noticed her hands were worked — like maybe in some laundry and older than her body, which looked very young.  We didn’t speak at first.  I was not looking to score a woman.  Her breasts were small and her hips were pleasant as was her face, but I was not needing someone else to spend my money, or run off with it.  Shit like that happens.

So I’m looking out the window at the scenery trying not to think about how easy she would  probably be, when she stuck out her hand, like a man, and says, “Dorothy Peters”.  So I stuck mine out and said, “Les Eller.”  Her hand was sweaty, “Nice to meet you,”  she said.  I didn’t say anything more.  I had plenty of bad experiences with little girls, but never on a bus ride.  You never knew what her game was.

Well she kept up the questions about where I lived, grew up.  What I did for a living?  Did i grow up with both my parents.  All sorts of questions, a little breathless.  There was something she wanted from me.  I was evasive and didn’t really answer her questions, but I liked her.  Most women I didn’t even want to talk to, but she was really young.  I began to wonder what she needed.

Finally we were almost to the town entrance and the collectors were getting money from the vehicles ahead of us, when she said, “Mr. Eller I don’t have the entrance fee.  I will stand good for the credit.  Anything at all, a verbal indenture.  I have to get away from the place where I was.  I wouldn’t mind being your slave.”

That was startling, I knew the current value of slaves most places and one credit didn’t buy any kind.  I thought she must be desperate or not really understanding slavery.

“Are you running away from a master?” I asked.

“No, I’ve been considered in the township of Lake City  as indigent and so I’ve spent two years at work for the city.  After my sentence i had bummed and had been given small change to ride the bus.  If I had stayed overnight I would have washed vehicles for another two years.  Slavery would  be less confining.”

“Not necessarily so.  Have you considered what someones slave is”?

“Of course, I haven’t been jailed all my life.  I’m an orphan.  Lots of orphans become slaves.  There is no one to help us.  We are kin to no one, no one cares.  We are in the family of no-one.”

Our vehicle stopped and I fidgeted in my backpack for a piece of wire, which I wound around her pretty neck — three circles.  She bent her head toward me to help.  After I finished I said, “So your already my slave, agreed?”

“Yes.”

Later a man with a n official badge on his cap came and collected the toll for me and my new slave.  Slaves are only one-forth credit, so I got back change.  A very small man who had heard me talking to the girl said when we were getting off at Millhopper Blvd and Urban Street, “Listen mister if I were you I’d have her on a leash when you get off the vehicle or they may think you two are trying to beat the tax.”

“Thanks buddy”  I nodded at him.  I had a strap in my pack and tied it two her neck wire.  After we were off and going down the street the little man came running up and said,  “Hay buddy if you want to sell that girl I’ll give you three credits right now”  I don’t know why I made the decision,  but I said, “No I think I’ll keep her.”

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To read 2 more parts to this story from the point of view of the Dwarf  and the Orphan Dorothy go to:

http://thedwarfman.wordpress.com

http://orphandorothy.wordpress.com

For other stories of Ray Cates read: http://unsightlyteeth.wordpress.com   The links are directly after the story.

Comments are welcome here, and you can contact the writer at: rcates2@cox.net  or fax him at: 1-352-629-1573