I felt foolish. My body became tense.
“Your future depends on your performance.” The Mistress’s voice was flat, without emotion. “You must make the man think of you as magical or he will not call you back.”
“Yes,” I replied in a weak voice.
“Then quit fighting and let go. A good life doesn’t come free.” The Mistress led me to the bed and motioned for me to squat. “The fact is, life comes easy to nobody.”
Embarrassed, I told An-te-hai and Big Sister Fann to leave the room.
The two exited without a word.
I got down and squatted like a hen. The position was so awkward that my limbs became sore almost instantly. I moved my behind in circles. The touch of the eggs brought with it an odd sensation. I struggled with my knees and ankles to stay in position.
“Keep going.” The Mistress reached out and stabilized the egg tray underneath me. “Perfection needs time.”
“I don’t have time.” I rocked my behind and began to gasp. “Ten days is all I have.”
“You’ve got to be crazy to think you can master the trick in ten days.”
“I wouldn’t be here if I was not crazy.”
“Only a fool would expect herself to drink hot porridge in one gulp.”
“I understand, but I must get it done before…” Before my sentence ended, a cracking sound came from my bottom.
It was the eggs. I had crushed them.
The Mistress grabbed a towel to keep the yolks from spilling. Quickly, she replaced the broken eggs with new ones.
Getting back into position, I balanced myself on both hands. My body felt like a strange object. I rocked, bearing my developing muscle pain.
“Ten days is definitely a torture.” The Mistress now was admiring my strength. “You need to take breaks. You don’t want to crush the eggs again.”
“No, I don’t. However, I can’t afford not to keep going.”
“There is another way to attract men.” The Mistress got off her chair. She took the pipe out of her mouth and knocked it on her sole to empty the ash. “Care to hear it?”
I nodded.
The girls came and handed me a hot towel.
I crawled off the bed and wiped my behind.
“I can’t teach you to beat your fate.” The Mistress refilled the pipe with dry leaves and lit it. She made a sucking sound as she inhaled the smoke. “Because you can’t. But it helps a great deal if you have an understanding of men as creatures. You must come to see why ‘Roses in one’s own backyard don’t smell as good as roses in the wild.’”
“Go on, madam, please,” I said.
“You are a pretty girl, all right, but when the lamp is out, a beautiful girl or a beast of a girl-it makes no difference to a man. Over the years I have seen so many men abandon their good-looking wives for ugly concubines, and then abandon the concubines for uglier prostitutes.”
“How can a woman make a difference?”
“I told you, it is the mind’s game. The truth is that men need encouragement no matter how strong they appear to be,” the Mistress said.
Looking at an erotic painting in which a man gazed intently at a woman’s breasts, the Mistress continued. “Be blind about his looks and habits. Try to ignore his manners as well. Be prepared: he may have the features of a panda, the smell of a barn, his sun instrument may be small like a walnut, or too large like a daikon instead of a carrot. He might demand hours of service before reaching satisfaction. You must concentrate on the music inside of his head. You must keep the pot boiling. You must remember the paintings in my house. They will help to create the magic. Look at this gentleman, holding his lady’s breasts like they are sweet peaches. Praise him with your noises. No actual words. Just the sounds. Wipe it on him like honey. Make flavors. Turn
“Doesn’t he already know? Doesn’t my willingness tell him so? I would have told him a thousand times by the time I am in bed with him, wouldn’t I?”
“You will be surprised, young lady.”
“How is that?”
“You haven’t spoken with your bottom lips, have you?”
“Oh, that’s right.”
“Put your skill to use!”
“Yes, of course.” My embarrassment turned into amusement.
“You might end up pleasing yourself too.” The Mistress smiled.
“What if…” I paused, because I didn’t know if I could make my question comprehensible. I decided to ask anyway. “What if he doesn’t like what I do?”
“There is no such thing. Men like it,” the Mistress said confidently. “But timing counts a great deal, and of course the condition of his health too.”
“What if I don’t like him?”
“Didn’t I already tell you? Pay attention to just the business. You are not after him, but his pockets.”
“What if he insults me and tells me to leave his bed? What if I fail to hide my feelings of disgust?”
“Listen, this business is not about how one feels. It never was, is or will be. Such is the fate of a woman. You’ve got to make a dish with whatever you’ve got in the kitchen. You can’t dream only about the fresh vegetables in the market!”
“How can I pretend to be excited when I am not?”
“Fake it! It is a son-of-a-dog act! The worst part is, by the time you reach perfection, you are too old. Youth evaporates like dew, born in the morning and dead in the afternoon.”
The Mistress threw herself into a chair. Her chest pumped as if she had just been revived after nearly drowning.
The two girls sat by themselves and remained stone-faced.
I put my clothes back on and got ready to leave.
“One last thing,” the Mistress uttered from the chair. “Don’t ever voice your disappointment, no matter how hurt or angry you are. Don’t try to argue with him.”
“I don’t even know if there will be a conversation.”
“Some men like to chat afterwards.”
“Well, as long as he is interested, I intend to continue my act.”
“Good.”
“I also would like to-I mean, if the situation permits-ask him questions. Can I?”
“Be sure to ask dumb questions.”
“Dumb questions? Why?”
“Without exception, a woman who tries to show that she’s got a brain gets abandoned.”
“Why?”
“Why? Men hate to be challenged. It’s simply demeaning to them.”
“So I should act dumb?”
“You’ll be doing yourself a favor.”
“But…” I couldn’t imagine myself acting dumb on purpose. “It is not part of my nature.”
“Make it yours!” The Mistress stared at me with wide eyes. Her skin was bleached out by the light and became pale, almost bluish.
“Thank you, madam,” I said.
Taking out the hairpin from her inner pocket, she wiped it with her sleeve. “We are talking about survival. Like I said, I want to be worthy of your hairpin.”
“It was a good lesson.” I bowed lightly. “Goodbye and thanks.”
The Mistress licked the hairpin with her tongue. “What kind of man are you seeing, if you don’t mind my
