I looked at the mass of lilies and cyclamens in the greenhouse. Remembrance flooded me. I saw a scene that happened many years before. It was a turning point. As I remembered, my mind went into the soul of the child I had been and I began to think as she did and feel her feelings. She was my remembered self, as much a stranger as an unknown person walking down the street.
"A drink, Jack? Too early?" Asked Chinky.
"Never too early," said Jack.
"I'll pour you one. I prefer my pipe. So you want to see my little Cherry Blossom?"
"Yes."
Chinky went into the back of the bar and returned with an Asian girl who moved like a breath of air. He circled his finger under her eyes.
She twirled and her silken hair slapped against her bottom as she faced Jack. She raised her head when Chinky put his finger under her chin and Jack looked down at a porcelain doll. She glanced briefly into Jack's eyes. Her eyebrows arched like the wings of a bird and her voluptuous mouth was painted red.
"Go!" said Chinky, as he pointed at the door. She swirled and glided away.
"Whew!" said Jack as he watched her hair swish to the side under the ceiling fan and saw mandarin silk snug across her round bottom. The dress was cut in a deep V in the back so he could see the cleft in her rear.
"You like, you pay."
I watched the pretty lady walk away and Chinky sat down at the bar next to me. I played with colorful sticks and gently kicked the barstool with my little feet, then glanced up at him and fluffed my blond hair.
"Her eyes are gold like gemstones."
"Yes, and sometimes green. Hazel eyes change color a lot," said my father.
"I mostly see black and dark brown eyes here," Chinky replied.
I did not like the smell of his pipe and looked away. He moved to the end of the bar to talk to Daddy.
"There is a German who drools over blonds like this. His clientele care nothing for exotic girls for anything but throw aways. He tries to indoctrinate the Nordic types into his cult. You have met him here several times, Herr Heising?"
"I remember him."
Chinky wrote down a number and passed it to Jack.
"Take this blond child to him and maybe you can have your Cherry Blossom. She has not been touched yet, only groomed by the women. I doubt if she is fifteen. But you have to pay your tab first."
* * *
I remembered how I stared at the big car that was parked in front of the fig tree in front of our house, I rubbed my eyes and walked up closer and looked in the window. The upholstery was silver with lighter threads that shimmered through it and the car was very clean. I didn't know that my suffering would pay for it and it would carry me and my Mother to freedom. I sat on the porch and wondered where the silver beast came from.
* * *
I got out of the silver Cadillac and Daddy took me by the hand to walk toward a mansion with a brilliant green lawn that looked like it had been manicured with a ruler. A polished black limousine squatted in the circular driveway; its grill grinned like it knew the nasty secrets of the house of perfection built on human misery. The portion of driveway that crossed the path to the door was covered overhead to shield guests. We approached a door with gold hinges, handle and knocker and Daddy tapped lightly. The door was opened by a sad butler who looked as though he had seen a grisly accident. He ushered us without haste through the entryway. I saw an open door that lead to a library or office to my left.
A massive staircase loomed in front of the mansion's entrance. Its steps were covered in oriental designs of ruby and mandarin. The floor beneath me was covered with the beautiful rug. The wood under the rug showed on the sides of the room and was dark and shiny. I looked up the staircase again at the wide banister.
It looks wide enough to slide down. I would like to do that.
We walked into an open living room that was paneled halfway up with dark wood and painted white up to and including the high ceiling. Bouquets of lilies in white vases perched on four tables in different areas. Delicate couches and chairs covered in heavy white silk with the grain of the material running front to back made seating areas for conversation. The white marble table in the middle of the grouping was decorated with pots of cyclamen that looked like swarms of white butterflies resting on thick stalks. Gold velvet curtains covered most of the high wall on each side of the large window. An unfenced wooded area that stretched far into the distance could be seen.