by York, Mattie
There were two short women in tight blue jeans and high heels sandals. They were chewing gum, loudly. The colour on their long finger nails and toe nails matched. Purple glitter. Philippines. Chieko guessed. They had to be. But, why are they here? Chieko wondered. Didn’t they speak English in the Philippines? Oh! Who is that? Chieko glanced back again to get a better look at the boy sitting beside the Filipino girls. He looked nice. Tall. Cute. Was he Korean? He didn’t look Japanese. But, he had nice hands, with long graceful fingers. Chieko blushed as the boy looked up and caught her eye. She turned quickly in her seat and focused all her attention on the front of the class. She hoped no one had noticed how flushed her cheeks had just become.
“Wonderful. Next? Who would like to go next? Any volunteers?” Ms. Macdonald looked directly at Chieko who shrank down in her seat, pretending to search for something very important in her bag. “Don’t worry,” Ms. Macdonald laughed, “Chico, you don’t have to go just yet. I’ll let someone else go. You can go later when you feel more comfortable.”
The chubby woman beside her raised her hand. “Yes, Miss Chan?”
“Yes, hello. I am Mrs Chan,” the woman began slowly. “But you can please to call me Grace. I want to come to here to learning English. My son, he talk the English very well,” she said proudly. “And so he want me to talk too. So I can help grandson. I come to Canada only one years. My husband, he die, so I must come live with son. My son is good son, but I don’t like wife. She is not good cook.” Chieko covered her mouth and giggled. She felt sorry for Miss Chan’s daughter in law. Chinese mother-in-laws were notorious for being very strict and critical of their son’s wives. “I am a good cook.”
“Wonderful, Mrs Chan. I hope you will cook us something special and bring it to class one day! Now, where are you from?”
“I come from Gangzhou, in China,”
“Oh, how lovely. Beautiful place.” Ms Macdonald clapped her hands. “You are very lucky! I went to Gangzhou once. During the spring, the blossoms on the trees were so beautiful. Ah, and the dumplings. So delicious. Can you make dumplings?”
Miss Chan smiled and nodded vigorously.
“Wonderful,” Ms Macdonald smiled warmly at Miss Chan. Chieko wondered how Ms. Macdonald could smile so much. “Next?”
“Yeah, ok, I can go,” a deep voice said. Chieko looked around for the voice and felt herself blushing again. It was the cute boy. “I’m Jay. I’m from Korea. Seoul. I come to Canada for study. I am study at the university. And the computers.” Chieko was impressed. He was smart too. Studying computers at university. “But it is difficult to speak,” Jay looked shyly at the floor, “and to make the friends in my class. So I want to speak better. I think this class can help me, yes?” He looked at Ms. Macdonald then nodded to the rest of the class.
“Wonderful, Korea. Cum-sa-ha-mi-da,” Ms. Macdonald clasped her hands together and bowed at Jay. “Fascinating place. You must let me know if you need kimchi. I know a wonderful grocery store just around the corner that makes the best kimchi.”
“Oh really?” Jay asked, “you like kimchi?”
“Oh yes, it is delicious. Very hot and spicy. Kimchi,” she explained to the rest of the class, “is a spicy fermented cabbage, with lots of spicy go-chu-jang. Hot pepper paste. It is very popular in Korea.”
Chieko smiled, as the rest of the class nodded and then bent their heads down to write in their notebooks. Korea, she thought, I knew that.
“Ok, who is next?”
Chieko turned to look out the window as another student volunteered to go. What was she going to say when it was her turn? She couldn’t say the truth. She just couldn’t. Everyone would be horrified. What would Jay think? Maybe she should say she was married. But, she wasn’t. And she didn’t want Jay to think she was. Maybe a student? Yes, she could say she was a student. That would work. She pulled out her cell phone to check the time. 2:15. Ahmed was scheduled to pick her up at 7:00.
It was another new client. Mr. Cullen? Chieko was starting to get tired of new clients. It was so stressful just before the appointment, worrying: what would they look like. Would they would be nice? Would they like her? Angela said Chieko had “to be stronger and more confident. Don’t let the man lead. You gently lead him. “Do this,” Angela had told her, “Imagine exactly what you are going to do before you get to the appointment. Picture in your mind exactly what you are going to wear, what you will say and what you will do. Imagine every step you will take. And then, picture your client enjoying everything you do. And then you will be successful.”
Chieko closed her eyes and pictured herself knocking on a wooden hotel door. She was wearing her new black suit with the short skirt. Her legs were bare and she was wearing her new pink high heels. She was carrying a Louis Vuitton purse on her shoulder and wearing a shiny diamond bracelet around her wrist. And a ring on her finger to match. If she was going to picture her being successful, she should at least picture herself looking good. “Hello,” a deep voice said as the door opened. Chieko walked into the empty room and gasped as Jay walked out from behind the door. He was holding a bouquet of large pink roses. “Chieko,” he smiled, “I’m glad I found you. I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind.”
“But how did you know I would be here?”
“I followed you,” Jay said. “I had to know more about you. I was afraid you wouldn’t like me, if you thought I was just a student. You are so beautiful, you must have many boyfriends. So I had to surprise you.”
“But, I’m a,” Chieko started to explain.
“No,” Jay put his finger on her lips. “Don’t talk,” he pulled her close to him; so close she could barely breathe. “I don’t care. It doesn’t matter,” he looked deep into her eyes. “All that matters is that I love you.”
“Oh Jay,” Chieko murmured and lowered her head against his chest.
“Chieko,” Jay held her tighter, lifting her face up to his. “Chieko, you are perfect just the way you are.” He leaned down and kissed her. His lips were soft and gentle at first but Chieko could feel his intensity as he pressed his lips harder to hers. “Chieko, Chieko,” Jay groaned as he buried his face in her hair, kissing the back of her neck.
“Chico? Are you ready?” Ms. Macdonald was standing beside Chieko, smiling down at her.
Chieko looked up in surprise. “Hai, yes?”
“It is your turn now.”
Chieko looked around the room. Everyone was staring at her. “I am Chieko,” she started slowly, twirling her hair around her finger. “I am from Japan. I arrive in Toronto, I think, 6 months ago,” she paused and pretended that she was thinking of the right words. “I am, I am a student,” she blurted out. “I am study at the university.”
“Good for you, Chieko!” Ms. Macdonald smiled that wide warm smile of hers. “Did you come here by yourself?”
“Yes, yes, all alone, yes.”
“And you have been living here for 6 months? That is wonderful. Now, what are you studying?”
“Oh, I am study, how do you say,” Chieko paused. She hadn’t thought of what she was studying. She looked around the room, desperately trying to think of something she could study. Her eyes fell on the Filipino girls’ toe nails. “The fashion.”
“Oh how interesting. Fashion design! That is just wonderful. I will have to ask your advice before I go shopping next time.”
“Yes. Domo, thank you,” Chieko shrank back down into her seat. She glanced over at Jay whose head was down, writing in his notebook.
16
Dear Diary,
Well. Last night was quite the night. You will be impressed with me. But I must start at the beginning and leave the happy ending to the end.
John came home late again last night. And he went straight up to our room. Fine. Whatever. So, when I had finished my glass of wine and my gratitude list, of which he was not on. I am just sick of his god damned antics. No business man ever needs to stay late at work every night. Especially when said business man is a contractor w
orking on a construction site. What could possibly be keeping the man at work? Plans are already made. Construction is started. And those boys don’t work in the dark.
So, after I made my list I went down stairs to the bedroom. And there was John sitting on the bed. Just sitting there. Waiting for me, he said he was. He said he couldn’t go on like this anymore. He didn’t want to continue. I deserved better. First god damned thing he said right in a good long while, let me tell you. Well, I’d had a few glasses of wine, so I wasn’t as restrained as I might have been and I laughed at him. I did. He is ridiculous. With his high and mighty ‘I’ve got to solve this problem’ shit. It was him. He’s the damn problem to begin with. And then, Jesus almighty, the man starts crying. What is up with this man? I cannot handle a grown man crying in front of me. It freaks me out!
So I relented. I gave in and sat beside him and comforted him. And then the whole long story comes out. He just has to tell me. Aren’t I lucky? Ok, I guess it’s good. We need to work it out together, for the boys. That’s true. Ok, so my beloved husband, of who I have not been sleeping with for the past few months, because honestly? I didn’t want to. It wasn’t good for me. It was stale. Just like running through the motions. Too be honest, washing dishes was at times more exciting and less painful. So this lout beside me, tells me….
Are you ready? Ok. He is a sex addict. How is that even possible? If you are addicted to something that was sitting in your house, waiting for you, for free, wouldn’t you, I don’t know, use it? We haven’t had sex FOR MONTHS!!!!!! But he told me he couldn’t push me. He knew I didn’t want him. Get this, he said he knew I was going through something and he respected me. Respected me. Respected me so god damned much that he went out and screwed half the population of Toronto.
Get this. This part, oh jesus, but I had to bite my lip. He told me he was spending most of his nights, the ‘late working nights’ at his office. The goddamned son of a bitch was holed up in that cheap ass trailer on the construction site, online, whacking off on his web cam. HA!!!!!!! Yes. He bought a web cam. And yes, he sat online and whacked off while someone watched. My husband! He could have been with all my girls. Any of my girls. I have a literal shop of girls in and out of here. If that’s what he wanted all he had to do was ask. But here he was, trying to be discrete -meeting these women online, and then, in person.
But once he fucked them, he didn’t want anything to do with them. He could barely get excited enough to finish fucking them. It was all about the chase. I asked him how he got this way. He never used to be. Was he? And he didn’t know. Thought maybe it was the porn on the internet. Yeah. The porn on the internet. Jesus Christ. Bloody hell.
Of course, lucky it happened to me, right? Because I am Toronto’s expert on sex and I know how to handle this. Or not. He did tell me, he never paid for sex. Why pay when you can get them online? Which fascinates me! I have to admit. It sounds like I have quite a bit of competition. I never really thought about it before. Never realized it was that big. But if girls are that easy to find online, for free. Why would a man pay? Shit. I’ve got to do some research on that.
So, back to John. We stayed up talking all night. He cried some more, lord help us. And we cuddled. And made out a bit. No, not sex. But I fell asleep in his arms. And it felt good. Really good. Like I was home. Like I was safe. Is that wrong? Maybe we can make this work again. No, I’m not going to rush into sex though. From the sounds of it, that’s the last thing he needs. Or wants. And anyways, after that confession, I’m not ready. Well, he’s not ready either. I told him he would have to go to therapy. Not Luann. Of course. But real therapy. I can’t heal him. And I can’t have him around the boys with this sex addict shit. He needs a real doctor to help him. He apologized and begged me to forgive him. He did. Right there. Crying in my arms. Wrapping his arms around me and crying into my stomach.
What could I say? I told him I’d give him another chance. I know, I should kick him out. But it’s a slippery slope. I mean, I’m not housemother of the year. Nor wife of the year. I was tired of him and his boring sex. Maybe he was tired of me. Maybe we both lost the magic. And blocked each other off. I could have told him, that I didn’t want to have to do all the work. I guess. I could have asked him to adore me. To pleasure me.
Why didn’t I? I don’t know. I just stopped wanting him. Yes. Maybe we need to go to therapy together. He is really a good man. The boys need a father. Truth be told, they are his kids. I can’t just kick him out of their life. And I want him to get well. It’s good for us to talk this out. Get it sorted. And maybe, just maybe, if he goes to therapy, and works through this, I can have my husband back. And we can be a proper family again. Yes. Imagine that. That would be wonderful.
Luann told me to watch, once I started to heal myself that others around me would start to heal. It would break down old patterns and change habits. Well, Jesus H. Christ it has done that. So Luann, thank you for your healing, darling. Fuck.
17
“My turn, my turn,” giggled Chieko as she ran over and snatched the golf ball out from the cup and returned it to the tee off spot by the door. She bowed, then reached up for the putter but Carl held tight to the handle. Surprised, she gritted her teeth and the two playfully struggled until Carl let go and Chieko fell backwards.
“You are not nice man, Mr. Roberts,” Chieko wagged a finger in his face.
“You are such a tease, Abby.”
Chieko had been surprised when Angela had called. She had thought she would never hear from Carl Roberts again after that first embarrassing appointment.
“Girl, this is a miracle!” Angela said. “I can’t believe it, but he called and specifically requested you. He never requests the same girl twice. I thought you said it didn’t go so well?”
“Yes,” Chieko said, “I didn’t think he was happy.”
“Ok, well, I guess there was something there. You know, I think you were right to take things slow. I mean, Mr. Roberts has the potential to be a wonderful regular client for you. I don’t want to pressure you, but, well, maybe, Mr. Roberts needs to have some fun first. Do you know any games you can play with him? Or maybe talk to him. Keep it light hearted. Take it slow. Do you think you can do that?”
“Hai, yes.” Of course Chieko could do that. Especially if it meant one solid regular. That’s what she wanted. Old boring regular rich clients. Clients that were dependable, that she knew how to please and maybe even liked. Her plan seemed to be working at least with Carl. He was much more relaxed after she started playing games during their appointments.
Chieko wasn’t sure if Mr. Roberts was stressed out from work. But she could tell that he did really need to relax and to laugh more. On their last appointment, they played strip poker. Only Chieko had to remove her clothes, but Carl had to put them on. Chieko was rather strict with Carl and kept her distance. He was only allowed to look. No touching. The more she forbad him to touch her, the more he seemed more eager to see her.
“Ahhh,” Chieko pretended to yawn. “I am too tired. You are too good. You tire me out.” She flopped down on the couch.
“Don’t you want to play naked?” Carl held out the putter. “Every time you miss a shot, you have to remove at piece of clothing.”
Chieko eyed Carl curiously. He had never suggested anything before. “You are so big strong sexy man. I can’t resist you,” she giggled, as Carl walked over. “I think we should play another game,” she smiled and twirled his tie around her fingers.
“Oh really? What did you have in mind?” Carl stepped closer.. Chieko didn’t give him any time to think about it. She slipped to her knees and undid his pants before he could protest. She worked hard and fast. To surprise, her efforts worked. She could hear his breathing grow heavier as he swelled in her hands. Suddenly, with a loud long groan, Carl shuddered.
“My dear,” he gasped after he caught his breath, “what have you done? Two weeks ago I would never have imagined.”
Chieko wiped her mouth and smiled in t
riumph. “You always had the strength in you. I knew that. I just helped you.” She had taken a big risk in moving so fast. If that hadn’t worked, she might have lost her first regular client. But it did work.
“How did you do that?” Carl took Chieko by the hand and led her to the couch, pulling her down to sit close to him, wrapping his arm around her. “I was so afraid. Do you know? I thought it wouldn’t work ever again. I have tried so many things. My poor wife. She has no idea what is wrong. I couldn’t tell her. I have ordered every herbal quack pill on the internet I could find. I have been to every massage parlour. And then I found Angela. She said her girls could help. She said be patient. I was. But it wasn’t working.
Do you know Chieko, my darling pearl, you were the last hope? I was going to quit with Angela. It wasn’t working. I was ok with that. I have lots of money. I have a great job. I would find happiness some other way. But your picture. And you. Oh you are so gorgeous. And tiny. And delightful. I just couldn’t resist. I had to try.” He sighed again. “How did you know I could do that? I mean, I always thought I had it in me, I refused to accept defeat. But my wife. Won’t she be surprised? She is always mumbling that I am too miserable. I was miserable. So miserable. I thought my life was over.”
Chieko rested her head on Carl’s trying to follow as he talked. Her body was safe and warm, nestled against Carl’s big solid body. His voice was low and when Chieko stopped trying to understand, it became like a deep melodic lullaby. She let her body relax as her mind wandered back to her English class and Jay. Someday it could be his body she was leaning against with his strong arms wrapped around her. No. Damé, she scolded herself. She couldn’t think of Jay now. Not on an appointment. Plus, she hadn’t even spoken to him yet. Wonder what he is doing now? Probably at the university, studying in the library. She pictured his head bent over a book, scribbling down notes. Wonder if he’s thinking of me? Chieko! Stop it. Of course he’s not. Think of something else. Another client? No. That’s no fun. Mr. Roberts is a nice client. I am lucky, she told herself thinking of some of the other clients from the past few weeks. And then her mind wandered back to her past years, where she had first learnt how make money from men.