by Sara Dagan
And don’t you forget how much she helped you when you were just starting out, thought the gloomy Octopus. Pandora was indeed forgetting her first years as CEO. Before she knew how to express herself properly in writing, it was Maya who had managed her local and international business correspondence. More than once, Maya had been solely responsible for Javon’s closing a particularly fat deal with a distant country. Thanks to her sharp senses and her intelligent sensitivity, she was able to identify the cultural nuances of potential customers. He knew that Maya’s fate was sealed.
***
The energy here is thick and sticky, thought Princess Maya with an uncomfortable feeling. Eve, her mother, had told her about places like this. Those descriptions usually made her delicate skin shiver, but her mother had always taken care to end the conversation in an encouraging tone and tell her not to worry – those dense places, in faraway regions sometimes known as hell, had nothing to do with her. “Those who visit them are usually creatures with particularly thick skin. Only rarely do representatives from our kingdom, the Gold Coast, jump into that boiling cauldron –but they are especially brave and adventurous discoverers, who go as emissaries of our kingdom for purposes of research and assistance to failing kingdoms.
”You, Maya,” her mother summed up with a reassuring, good-natured smile, “have nothing to seek there. At this stage of your life you must concentrate on the education we are taking pains to provide for you, the finest education in the universe, so that when the day comes, you will be able to inherit our throne and run our beloved kingdom from a higher starting point than ours.”
Her discomfort gave way to concern when she saw through the reinforced glass wall that Kerberos was approaching the department. She quickly put the mop and pail back in the service closet and returned to her seat.
* * * *
Like most employees at the Javon company, Princess Maya received alienated, degrading treatment. The company signed personal agreements with the workers and managers according to strict business principles, and set demanding regulations for its employees. She suffered greatly from her status as secretary to the CEO of Javon, who, with every passing day, became ever more contemptuous and tyrannical toward her. She soon sank into her job and the daily hardship it entailed as if she had been working at it for many years. At the same time, her memory of her other life in the gold kingdom outside the crystal ball was fading.
In a distant land, Prince Karma looked with great interest into the crystal ball of which he was so fond, and discovered that Princess Maya had forgotten that she was a princess!
Chapter 4
In the Heat of the Day
_______________________
Maya found it hard to get used to her new status and to Pandora’s tough demands, yet she served her with efficiency and loyalty. She attended to all Pandora’s needs and caprices, from serving coffee, running personal errands and doing her shopping, to presenting herself promptly in Pandora’s office the moment the insistent red light flashed on her telephone.
Maya was frustrated that her opinions, feelings and wishes were of no consequence in the corporation for which she worked. She felt that her presence was scarcely noticed, except when she was summoned to the meeting room to refill the water jug, fortify the participants with another round of arousing coffee, or take orders for lunch. She was nearing the age of 42 with its silver threads, cellulite layers and dark rings under the eyes. Still beautiful, but well aware that innocence and youth had moved on to grace a new generation of young women, she felt Pandora’s attitude toward her escalating. She found it hard to wake up in the morning to new tasks. Maya lived from one weekend to the next, although Pandora often insisted she remain on duty all weekend, when especially big deals were being closed.
Unlike her quiet anticipation of the weekends, Maya could not look forward to the age of retirement, because she had no pension plan: the corporation forced its employees to sign a document releasing it from any and all responsibility for their retirement. Thus she tried to ignore the prospect of old age, when she would no longer have the strength to continue working at Javon.
On weekends when Pandora did not require her services, Maya took fervent care to visit the municipal park, even when she was very tired. The park, a combination of zoo, playground and green lung, was a temporary refuge from the metropolis of gray concrete and dark glass. She loved to sit in a spot she called her “God’s little acre,” a quiet, charming corner built at the edge, far from the tumult of the park. Beside a little pine forest surrounded by coral vine with its little pink flowers, an artificial waterfall flowed down a slab of stone that resembled emerald rock. She liked to watch parents playing with their little children, from a distance.
She sometimes wondered who her parents were. Eva, the kindly caregiver in the orphanage where she had grown up (a rare figure in that landscape of suffering and alienation), told her she had come to them from a puffy golden cloud floating over an emerald waterfall of amazing beauty.
“When you were born,” nurse Eva had recounted to Maya again and again, especially on nights when she couldn’t fall asleep, “it was a beautiful, golden and most festive morning. Everyone felt there was something in the air. The flowers had a heavenly aroma, the birds chirped with unusual merriment, and the children turned their eyes to the sky in wonder. From the womb of the cloud you descended straight into a colorful flock of butterflies that made a soft, airy cradle for you, and carried you safely to us. Our orphanage changed unrecognizably after you appeared within its walls. You brought with you a special light, dear Maya”.
With those words Eva would kiss her good night, cover her with the threadbare woolen blanket, and leave the dormitory, sighing to herself how easy it was to calm Maya with imaginary stories. Eva was surprised by her own power of imagination, and didn’t understand where these strange stories about a golden cloud, butterflies and emerald falls, came from.
Maya’s arrival at Marsy Orphanage had been shrouded in uncertainty. No one knew exactly how she had arrived, or who had brought her. Even more mysterious was the fact that the baby had been laid on the step of Marsy Orphanage wrapped in a robe of precious silk the color of peach blossoms, and around her neck was a delicate gold thread from which was hanging a gold ring set with an emerald.
Afraid Maya might be harmed by greedy people, Eva hid the ring in her room for safekeeping. When Maya left Marsy Orphanage at age 16 to make her way in the world, Eva gave her the ring with a handful of banknotes she had saved for her with great effort. The banknotes she rolled up in the silk mantle in which Maya had arrived at Marsy.
Eva remained the only beloved person in Maya’s life, the only one she felt had ever loved her unconditionally without expecting anything in return. She often thought of the story of her birth that Eva used to tell her, especially as she sat opposite the emerald waterfall.
I wonder where it came from, she would think to herself, looking at the ring on her finger. What secret from my past does it hold?
Near the waterfall stood a rather good reproduction of the famous statue of Venus. To the base of the statue was fixed a copper plate on which were engraved light green letters that read: “Only Love Brings Plenty”. She wondered if behind these words was hypocrisy, cynicism, or a genuine wish. The municipality responsible for the project was known for its questionable business deals, as well as bribes by business owners, including real estate sharks, to cover up building scandals, ecological crime, and the like.
She would sit quietly on the green bench, watching the waterfall and listening to the flowing water. It had a soothing effect on her. She liked to imagine herself standing under the waterfall, closing her eyes and giving herself up to the water as it caressed her body. In her imagination it was a real, much larger waterfall, in the heart of an ancient pine forest, flowing over real emerald stone.
Towards evening as she prepared to leave the place, she would perform the “emerald ceremony”– a ceremony she had invented to surr
ound herself with energy in preparation for another work week: she wrapped the silk cloth in which she had been delivered to the orphanage around her waist, closed her eyes, and placed her hands on her waist. She then crossed them over her heart, stretched her arms out in front of her, and finally opened her right hand and imagined a big piece of emerald detaching itself from the rock and dropping gently into her hand. Maya imagined herself receiving the precious stone. She pressed the emerald ring on her finger to it to charge the ring with healing energies. When she felt it was charged, she thanked the waterfall and the rock she called “the mother rock”, opened her hand again, and let the stone float up and return to its place of origin.
At this point she would press the ring to her chest and breathe in its strong energies. After a few deep breaths she would feel much better and open her eyes, prepared, more or less, for another demanding week.
And so things progressed from one weekend to the next, week followed week without mercy, the weeks piled up into months and the months rose into thick walls of years that closed in on Maya with a suffocating grip, sealing off any crack of memory from her home in the Kingdom of the Gold Coast.
One gray morning Maya awoke to discover that she had lost the light at the end of the tunnel. Princess Maya had forgotten she was a princess!
Chapter 5
Purple Dusk
________________
The red cyclopic eye flashed yet again. The 37th time this morning, groaned Maya quietly. What does she want from my life?
“Maya, be so good as to come into my room , and bring with you one short espresso.”
And what about me, thought Maya to herself. Ah, I forgot. I don’t exist except as an instrument for the satisfaction of Pandora’s whims.
She operated the sophisticated espresso machine with expertise, breathing the noble aroma into her lungs. It’s good the smell is still free, and they can’t take it away from me, she thought with a little smile.
“Maya, sit down please, I want to speak with you.”
Speak with me? Maya was astonished. What’s happened? Maybe at long last I’ll get a bonus for the supreme effort I made this last month to keep up with her crazy demands?
She made a quick review in her head of all the oddities Pandora had bombarded her with: cutting each vegetable of the salad at a different time and in a different-sized pieces according to the order set by Pandora; peeling the tomatoes without first dipping them in boiling water – which makes the peeling easier but softens the tomato–so that Pandora could sink her teeth into a fleshy tomato; lettuce –each leaf was to be washed separately and dried with a fan. Aside from that, sighed Maya to herself, bringing her a starched napkin and making sure the utensils were thoroughly sterilized. Ah, and the gloves – every day she had had to find herself a pair of perfectly starched white gloves with which to serve Pandora her meals.
“Maya, no doubt you have noticed that things are not the same here as they once were–” Pandora turned to her, glaring at her through narrow turquoise eyes.
Maya hesitated. If I say yes, she’ll attack me. If I say no – she still might attack me...
“Um...” She began.
“Maya, how many years have you been working at Javon?”
“24 years,” she answered quietly. 24 years too long, she thought sadly to herself.
“Indeed, time flies! You came to us at age 18. I remember what an amazing beauty you were, and in all honesty, Maya, more than once I envied your youth and your radiant beauty. On the other hand, you had no experience and I invested a great deal of effort and attention in teaching you to serve Javon properly. But youth doesn’t last forever. When was the last time you looked at yourself in the mirror? Have you noticed that even though I’m quite a few years older than you, I look much better than you do?"
That’s what you think, you mummified mammoth.
“Maya, I’ve asked Diana, the head of our human resources department, to look up your personal record. When you were accepted to work at Javon you seemed to have a promising future. You were beautiful– let me see...”
Pandora put on her reading glasses and studied Maya’s card. Maya, whose mathematical skills had not deserted her as she forgot her golden past in the Kingdom of the Gold Coast, made a quick calculation and concluded that for the price Pandora had paid for those glasses, from one of the world’s most expensive designers –111,111 children could have been fed three nourishing meals a day for 11 whole months.
“Yes, here are the data: bust 90 cm, waist 58 cm, hips, hmmm... it’s hard to believe that’s you. Your golden hair – its special tint gave us an indication for finding one of our most popular coloring preparations for over 20 years. ‘Golden Venus’ has become a prestigious product world wide. At staff meetings of the corporation’s senior managers we always spoke enviously of your fresh skin, which inspired our most creative advertisers – and look at you now. In another month you’ll be 42 and you look old and worn out."
Pandora removed her glasses and fixed Maya with her penetrating gaze. “The truth is,” she went on in a harsher tone, “I’m tired of your services, but I’d feel bad about throwing you out on the street. Nobody would hire you, you have absolutely no skills. Even the secretarial job you have been doing for the past 24 years you’ve been botching up lately. We kept you all these years mostly because of your looks, which were great for Javon PR. In all honesty, they helped us more than once to apply pressure on big deals when you served the coffee. Remember my instructing you on certain days to wear that tight red miniskirt and black high heels? Many deals were signed because of them – and it was a lot cheaper than expensive whiskey in getting people to whisk out the pen and sign.
“Hmmm... those were the days...
“Now that the charms of youth are gone, and your hip measurements are no longer a source of profit for us, I don’t need your clumsy services any longer. There remains only one possibility: that you make an appointment with our Mummy, and have a series of renovations that will restore your appearance in keeping with the current Javon image. You may not have noticed it but your look has been passé for several years now. After you’ve had the treatment I’ll check again and see what I can do with you."
Pandora looked away from Maya, opened the pouch she had taken from her private cabinet, took out a compact telephone book with a cover of maroon leather, put her glasses back on and began dialing on the direct ivory telephone.
Amazing, thought Maya to herself, how Pandora detects the slightest shifts in fashion, and knows with an almost animal instinct how to identify the next trend. She’s involved in the latest word in the beauty industry. She’s always the first to know about any breakthrough in cosmetic science. On the other hand, of computer and communications technology she knows almost nothing. She doesn’t know how to use her personal computer, let alone a smartphone.
On more than one occasion Maya had tried to acquaint Pandora with the computer, in the hope that some of the burden would be removed from her. Pandora, however, frustrated at her inability to learn the medium, would become enraged, fling away the “black plastic monsters” and send Maya to her desk with an especially long list of phone calls to be made.
“Hello, Mummy? Long time, dear. How are you? Longing for a little work? I’ve got some good material for you. Remember Maya, my personal secretary? You won’t believe it, but even she is nearly 42. You’ll have to be especially creative – she’s a hard nut to crack. “Check your diary for a vacancy and make an appointment with her for a treatment from your magic hands. Ah, and Mummy, it’s time for a little touching up for me – you know I’m a perfectionist and am always looking out for the good of the company. I think we’ll have to do that painful treatment again – but what won’t we do for beauty, so that Javon will continue to lead in both polls and sales. We must set a personal example. Ciao, magician."
“Okay.” Pandora returned her glasses to their leather case, which matched the cover of her telephone book, and leaned back in h
er white Italian leather chair. “That’s settled. You can return to your place."
Maya got up, arranged the red rose in the crystal vase on Pandora’s desk, took the empty coffee cup, and left the room.
How much humiliation can a person take in one day? She thought to herself in pain. I’m imprisoned, unable to protect or stand up for my rights. It’s intolerable. I don’t belong here. But where do I belong? Maya raised her hands to her temples and massaged them lightly. If only there was someone close I could ask for advice. Eva died a long time ago and I am completely alone in this world. Everyone I know just wants services of one kind or another from me.
The ring of the telephone startled Maya out of her reflections. Another unidentified caller, she thought in disgust. What do they want to sell this time?
“Hello Maya, Mummy speaking. Congratulations, the time has come for us to meet. Don’t worry, I’m not as scary as I’m made out to be.”
His hoarse but obsequious voice made her think of a sly red-tailed fox, its eyes burning with purple fire.
Today is the first time I’ve ever heard of you, she thought. I didn’t have a clue about the well-established mummification industry going on behind the scenes here at Javon. But I must say, things are becoming a lot clearer to me.
“Okay, we’ll do the alteration this weekend, so it won’t interfere with your work schedule. Even though I’ll miss my weekly game of squash. What don’t we do to satisfy our Pandora? “You’d better take into account a few hours’ rest in my clinic until the effect of the anesthetic wears off. When you get up you’ll be like new – in every sense of the word. And Maya – don’t worry. It doesn’t hurt that much. Although pain, as you have no doubt discovered over the years, is a relative matter. Agreed?”
At least he’s philosophical, thought Maya. Well, how could you survive in that butchery business without some philosophical theory or other to prop you up in such improper work?
“Thank you, Mummy, but I want to devote some thought to this. You see, we are talking about a radical, irreversible action from my point of view, and since it is still my body after all, I should at least be able to sleep on it for one night”.