Daffodil and Rose spent a month in Regina, working steadily at semi-legitimate jobs. Neither of them had the Social Insurance card number necessary to take a job in Canada, but within two days of arriving in the city, they had managed to talk the owner of a sleazy strip joint into hiring them unofficially, paying them in cash and making no mention of them to the authorities.
Both women tried to only serve drinks and wait tables at first, but it soon became apparent that dancers made considerably more in tips—and since neither of them wanted to work there for long, or stay in Regina for long, they both took to the stage.
Both Rose and Daffodil were accustomed to performing, on their own, as a duo, or with the band, but exotic dancing was new to them. They learned it quickly enough, especially Daffodil, who was far more comfortable with displaying her body than Rose was, but they did it more for the money than for the joy of being on the stage and having all eyes on them.
Stripping would never be one of Rose’s favorite ways to perform, but after a few days she grew more accustomed to it—and she soon learned that she got bigger tips when she sang while dancing. Daffodil did not do so well when she tried the same thing. Few customers appreciated her voice.
For some reason, many men were even more interested when they danced together. Perhaps it was the sight of two women on the stage, or perhaps it fueled their fantasies—or both—but more men gathered near the stage, cheering them on and giving them money.
They might have earned more money if they had allowed things to go farther, as more than one man was eager to touch and offered to take them into one of the private rooms at the back, but neither Rose nor Daffodil was willing to go so far. The moment any man tried to touch above the knee, they backed off with a teasing smile, and no man could convince them to do anything more, not even a private dance.
Rose was always reluctant to get too close, but she was surprised at Daffodil’s reticence, especially since she was certain that her friend had prostituted herself on at least two occasions in order to get food and money. She couldn’t understand why Daffodil had done such things when there were other alternatives, but it wasn’t until after they left the city early in July that she confronted her about it.
*****
A few nights after they left Regina, Rose and Daffodil were sitting beside their campfire in another wild area, relaxing under the clear night sky. They had plenty of non-perishable food in their packs now, and enough money to take them a long way tucked into different hiding places.
The river they had been following gurgled along nearby, reflecting the starlight overhead in still spots. With the abundance of fish, cattails, wild greens, and early berries available, they had little need of the dried and canned food they carried with them, choosing instead to live off the land for the most part. Rose was amazed at the amount of knowledge of plants and animals and how to survive that Daffodil had, no matter where they stopped. It didn’t seem possible that anyone could know so much about so many places, but Daffodil had traveled widely in her life, and had learned new things wherever she went.
"Daffodil?"
"Hmm?" Daffodil looked up from she was leaning back against her pack, her eyes half-closed. "What is it, Rose?"
"I noticed back in Moose Jaw that you seemed to be able to get food and money when it didn’t seem like much was available."
"I have my ways."
"I’ve noticed," Rose told her dryly. "So do I, but the things that I was doing were a little more…legitimate, I think."
"What do you mean?" Daffodil knew what Rose was trying to ask, but she wasn’t about to help her.
"I mean, I earned food and money by doing work for people, or by entertaining them. And you…"
"I worked and entertained people, too."
"I think you did a little more than that."
"Come on, Rose. Moose Jaw, in case you didn’t notice, is a town of factories. People who work in factories don’t usually have a lot of extra money to spend on street performers or day laborers—or much need when other entertainment and ways of getting the work done are available. And it was late May and early June—still early enough in the spring up here that there isn’t too much yard work to be done and such."
"But enough that you were able to make off with fresh garden produce and eggs from a few henhouses outside of town."
Daffodil looked across the fire at Rose. "I was hungry, and I notice that you weren’t too reluctant to help eat the stuff."
"I was hungry, too."
"Besides, I never took more than a little from anywhere, and never from anyplace that didn’t already have a lot."
"But it still wasn’t right. And what about the prostitution?"
"What prostitution?"
"You came back twice with grass in your hair, dirt and grass stains on your shirt, and money in your pocket."
"And it was only twice, and with the same man both times."
"But why, when you have so many skills? You could have done something else."
"I was hungry then."
"Couldn’t you have waited?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"I get the shakes when I’m too hungry, in case you’ve never noticed. He offered me ten dollars and dinner for a quick roll in the grass. I accepted."
"Daffodil!" Rose stared at her. "I can see doing that once, but twice?"
"It was more legitimate than stealing from people’s yards. He got what he wanted, I got what I—we—needed, and no one got hurt or lost anything."
"I trust you were smart enough to use protection?"
Daffodil rolled her eyes. "Of course. I’m not stupid, you know."
"How did you afford it?"
"I made him buy it. He wasn’t getting anything without it, no matter how hungry I was."
"What was his name?"
"I don’t know."
"Daffodil!" Rose gave her a concerned look. "That wasn’t very smart. Prostitution can get you food and money, yes, but it can also get you something you didn’t bargain for, like a disease or a baby—or arrested."
"Like I said, Rose, I’m not stupid. I made him use protection."
"It doesn’t always work."
"I also know what to look for in terms of symptoms."
"Some things take a long time to show up, like AIDS, and they can kill you."
"I know that, Rose. I don’t do this often—only when I’m really hungry."
"How often have you done this before?"
"A couple of times…and nothing happened."
"Lucky you."
"Look, Rose…you haven’t been in a situation yet where you were that hungry. It might come, so don’t tell me how immoral or stupid I am."
"I’m not calling you immoral. I’m just…concerned, is all. Bad things can happen."
"Bad things can happen without getting money for it, too…or don’t you remember how scared you were when you thought that you might have caught AIDS from Tim? Or how angry you were when you found out that he had suspected that he was sick and had kept it from you?"
"Daffodil, I just worry about you is all. You’re my best friend, and I don’t want anything to happen to you. I’ve lost enough people that I cared about already; I don’t need to lose you, too."
"I don’t sell myself unless I’m really desperate, Rose. I don’t enjoy prostituting myself. I only do it if I absolutely have to."
"Daffodil, before you do that again, tell me that you need food. I’ll find something for you, even if it means shoplifting."
"Can you do that without being caught?"
"I don’t know. I won’t do it unless I have to."
"I don’t do such things unless I have to, either, and there’s a big difference between doing something out of need and doing something because you’re greedy or mean. If you do have to do things like that, never do or take more than is absolutely necessary. At least you’ll be able to live with yourself that way. And never hurt anyone unless they’re trying to hurt you and it’s the only way to defend yourself."
"I know." Rose thought about the people she had known who had engaged in criminal behavior. It wasn’t just vagrants like herself and Daffodil, or obnoxious street kids like Jack had once been. The rich and powerful sometimes did such things, too—and they hurt far more people in the process.
*****
A couple of hours later, Rose and Daffodil retreated to their tent for the night. Neither had said much after their discussion, but had instead sat listening to the night, each lost in their own thoughts.
Rose had noticed Daffodil staring at her across the fire several times, but each time, she had quickly looked away when she noticed Rose looking back.
Something about the way Daffodil had looked had looked at her had seemed oddly familiar to Rose. It wasn’t until she was drifting off to sleep that she realized why it was familiar, though.
With a bit of shock, Rose realized that Daffodil had been looking at her in the same way that the men she had been in relationships with had looked at her—and this wasn’t the first time, either.