I wake up lying indecorously, in a busy airport terminal. Dressed all different, too formal, and with the wrong shoes. Purple shoes, too bright, too shiny. Going by the pasty complexions and the slanted black eyes of most of the people in the bustle, I think I can safely assume that I’m not in my own country.
Almost pushed by the crowd, I climb onto an escalator and then into an elevator. The elevator is completely made of glass and quite roomy, with a lot of bright lights on the ceiling. When the lift stops, and I look down, we seem to have come up hundreds of floors, and the sight exhilarates me, at the same time giving me a sense of vertigo. And now there’s only one person besides me in the elevator, a thin middle-aged Chinaman with wise, kindly eyes; who smiles at me as I exclaim, “Beautiful!” like a village child on her first time in the city. On a closer look, the man is younger than the lines on his face seem to suggest.
His demeanor is that of a host and at the same time, a little servile. He is dressed like a butler but his watch and his shoes look too expensive for that. He guides me into another similar elevator, and this time I count the number of floors we pass. I lose count during the 80’s and I feel dizzy. Once again I exclaim, “Beautiful!”, like a fool as we come out on a terrace and I quickly sit down on my shaking knees, laughing apologetically, “I feel faint!” He smiles his kindly smile. I ask him to hand me my purse, which seems to have fallen at his feet. I fumble inside and finally light a cigarette. My hands shake too much. He seems to disapprove, and I feel like a stupid kid again.
He says, “You seem to have a taste for beauty and the unusual.”, again with that kindly smile. “I would very much like you to work for me.” “What kind of work?” I say, to humor him, because I don't want to end the conversation just yet. “Visit places and sell ideas, sell my work”. “You really don’t have to be so extravagant in your talk. You want to get inside my pants?”, I laugh, amused at this old man’s quaint flirting.
He looks away, taken aback and embarrassed, “No, no, I am already in pants”, he laughs in his strange lilting accent. “I only ask for devotion in return for devotion”, he says quietly as he leans towards my face. Suddenly this tired, father-like figure is the most attractive man in the world. His all-knowing eyes draw me in. I almost didn’t feel the kiss, it was so slight.
He tells me what he needs me to do, places I need to go, but I’m not listening. The next thing I remember is telling him that a friend of mine will be coming to see me, and maybe he could let her work with me. In a second, the wise, kindly man transformed into a furious and unforgiving master. His eyes were cold; I was terrified, and hurt. Very softly, through gritted teeth, he said, “So someone knows where you are. Let her come.” I had no means of warning her, as an ice cold fist clutched my heart. I knew bad events were in the offing.
She arrived, clueless, rambling, and with a huge camera slung around her neck. We watched her, I breathless with fear and anticipation; he, with a calculating gaze; as she chattered on, taking pictures and exploring the terrace. She reached a side door, which I instinctively knew, should not be opened. He and I, we both screamed at the same instant, “No!” as she opened it.
“As it is too late, I might as well give you ladies a little tour”, he said, cold and smiling. This part of the terrace was empty except for three flower pots. The pot in the middle has a plant with wild-looking purple flowers. Me and my friend, look at him in bewilderment. “You little girls might not have tried opium, but you certainly must have heard of it, and what it does”, he smiled. “This purple beauty puts opium to shame. A single drop of nectar from this flower, is 84 times more powerful, and equally more wonderful in the magic it works”, he continued smiling. “This is the only one of its kind in private possession, you know”, there was pride in his voice.
“So you have to kill us now?”, I asked, strangely calm. “That’s the best solution you could think of, my love?”, he laughed. “I think you and your friend had better be on your way now”.
We ran. We ran and we ran, and it felt like a thousand clouds burst inside my ears and that my heart would jump right out of my mouth. We ran outside the gates, just as loud hideous screeches started inside, some kind of alarm, I assumed.
As we came in sight of the town and a few dingy houses, we stopped to breathe. I asked her, “Should we throw away our SIM cards so that we can’t be tracked? And leave the town immediately?” My voice sounded squeaky and hysterical in my own ears. “Aren’t you overreacting a bit?”, she said.
