from school, when I told her we'd lived for a while in California, she lit
up. She said her mama had always wanted to go there. She asked if
maybe I'd come over to her place and tell her mama all about life in
California.
Of course I went. I'd never gotten inside the Green Lantern, but now I'd
get an up-close look at a genuine prostitute. There were lots of things I
wanted to know: Was whoring easy money? Was it ever any fun, or was
it just gross? Did Kathy and her sisters and her father all know Ginnie
Sue Pastor was a whore? What did they think of it? I didn't plan on flat
out asking these questions, but I did think that by getting inside the
Pastors' house and meeting Ginnie Sue, I'd come away with some idea of
the answers.
Clarence Pastor, sitting on the porch, ignored Kathy and me as we
walked by. Inside, there were all these tiny rooms connected together
like boxcars. Because of the way the house was settling on the eroding
hillside, the floors and ceilings and windows tilted at different angles.
There were no paintings on the walls, but the Pastors had taped up
pictures of smartly dressed women torn from Sears Roebuck catalogs.
Kathy's little sisters scampered around noisily, half dressed. None of
them looked alike; one was redheaded, one a blonde, one had black hair,
and there were all different shades of brown. Sweet Man, the youngest,
crawled along the living room floor, sucking on a fat dill pickle. Ginnie
Sue Pastor sat at the table in the kitchen. At her elbow was the carcass of
a big expensive roaster, the kind we could hardly ever afford. She had a
tired, lined face, but her smile was cheerful and open. "Pleased to meet
you," she said to me, wiping her hands on her shirttail. "We ain't used to
getting visitors."
Ginnie Sue offered us seats at the table. She had heavy breasts that
swayed when she moved, and her blond hair was dark at the roots. "You-
all help me with this bird, and I'll fix you a couple of Ginnie Sue's