on
bamboo leaves outside the master’s study. Water dripped off the red tile roofs
and formed a lacy curtain hiding and then revealing the pebbled courtyards and
glossy green foliage. She wanted to stay in the garden forever, but eventually
she and Aggie moved on.
Angela bought a concealing silk scarf with a red dragon
motif. Aggie loaded them down with a teapot in the shape of a pig, a pair of
large straw fans and books on Buddhism, the garden, the history of the Chinese
in Vancouver and Chinese cuisine. By the time they arrived back at the hotel,
again entering through the basement, Angela felt closer to her sister than she
had since childhood. The emotion was a double edged sword.
Unluckily, the hotel didn’t have room service. The
receptionist explained over the phone that there was an excellent restaurant
right next door. Angela pleaded a headache to avoid going with her sister to
the restaurant for dinner. She asked Aggie to bring her back a doggy bag. They
spent the evening watching old movies on television and laughing over childhood
memories.
By the end of the weekend, Angela’s headache was real. The
constant skulking around the hotel preyed on her nerves. Though they spent the
day Sunday on the skytrain and had lunch and dinner far from downtown, the
coming explanation was never absent from Angela’s thoughts. She knew Aggie was
suspicious. Her sister had grown quieter as Sunday progressed, and when Aggie
slammed the hotel door behind them Sunday night, Angela knew the moment of
revelation had arrived.
Chapter
8
“All right.” Aggie grabbed Angela’s arm and dragged her
toward the living room. She pushed her down into a chair. “Spill.”
“Okay. Promise me one thing. Don’t kill me until you hear
the whole thing.”
Aggie didn’t think her sister’s attempt at a joke was funny.
She flopped onto the sofa and stared at her twin.
“Is it that bad?”
“I’m a prostitute.”
Angela’s words hit Aggie like a baseball bat between the
eyes. She felt the trust of twenty-eight years shatter like fragile crystal.
How could Angela not have told her?
“You really were hurt,” she stated. “When my wrist was sore,
you were in trouble. You were hurt, weren’t you?”
Angela nodded and slipped to the floor to sit at Aggie’s
feet. Aggie watched detached as her hand moved to caress her sister’s hair. Her
twin’s head lifted and Aggie hardly recognized the hard eyes that had once been
her mirror image.
“I have to get out,” Angela stated calmly.
“Tell me what happened.”
“I went to what I thought would be a normal trick,” Angela
began.
“Normal,” Aggie whispered.
“You detach,” Angela explained. “But this john was a real
bastard. He wanted to make me feel bad, to humiliate me.”
“What did he do?”
“He handcuffed me.”
Aggie rubbed her wrist.
“He sodomized me. He bit me. I got a tetanus shot in case he
had rabies.” Angela’s laugh was bitter. “Then he wrapped the money in a condom
and shoved it up my ass. That was it, the last straw.”
Aggie felt the wetness on her cheeks before she realized she
was crying.
“You have to help me get out,” Angela pleaded.
“Of course,” Aggie agreed. “You can come live with me in
Cincinatti. You have a degree. I’m sure you can get a job.”
“A degree in art history isn’t very practical.”
“Just come live with me.” It was Aggie turn to beg.
“I have a plan.”
Aggie stifled a groan when she heard her sister’s words. She
knew the plan would be something weird or her sister would have told her
outright. She also had an intuition that it would involve her active
participation. She pushed her doubts into a corner. Better to let her sister give
an unprejudged explanation.
“What’s the plan?” she asked in as neutral a voice as she
could manage.
Her sister must have heard or anticipated her reluctance, for
her voice was defensive as she replied.
“I know it’s going to sound crazy, but I
bamboo leaves outside the master’s study. Water dripped off the red tile roofs
and formed a lacy curtain hiding and then revealing the pebbled courtyards and
glossy green foliage. She wanted to stay in the garden forever, but eventually
she and Aggie moved on.
Angela bought a concealing silk scarf with a red dragon
motif. Aggie loaded them down with a teapot in the shape of a pig, a pair of
large straw fans and books on Buddhism, the garden, the history of the Chinese
in Vancouver and Chinese cuisine. By the time they arrived back at the hotel,
again entering through the basement, Angela felt closer to her sister than she
had since childhood. The emotion was a double edged sword.
Unluckily, the hotel didn’t have room service. The
receptionist explained over the phone that there was an excellent restaurant
right next door. Angela pleaded a headache to avoid going with her sister to
the restaurant for dinner. She asked Aggie to bring her back a doggy bag. They
spent the evening watching old movies on television and laughing over childhood
memories.
By the end of the weekend, Angela’s headache was real. The
constant skulking around the hotel preyed on her nerves. Though they spent the
day Sunday on the skytrain and had lunch and dinner far from downtown, the
coming explanation was never absent from Angela’s thoughts. She knew Aggie was
suspicious. Her sister had grown quieter as Sunday progressed, and when Aggie
slammed the hotel door behind them Sunday night, Angela knew the moment of
revelation had arrived.
Chapter
8
“All right.” Aggie grabbed Angela’s arm and dragged her
toward the living room. She pushed her down into a chair. “Spill.”
“Okay. Promise me one thing. Don’t kill me until you hear
the whole thing.”
Aggie didn’t think her sister’s attempt at a joke was funny.
She flopped onto the sofa and stared at her twin.
“Is it that bad?”
“I’m a prostitute.”
Angela’s words hit Aggie like a baseball bat between the
eyes. She felt the trust of twenty-eight years shatter like fragile crystal.
How could Angela not have told her?
“You really were hurt,” she stated. “When my wrist was sore,
you were in trouble. You were hurt, weren’t you?”
Angela nodded and slipped to the floor to sit at Aggie’s
feet. Aggie watched detached as her hand moved to caress her sister’s hair. Her
twin’s head lifted and Aggie hardly recognized the hard eyes that had once been
her mirror image.
“I have to get out,” Angela stated calmly.
“Tell me what happened.”
“I went to what I thought would be a normal trick,” Angela
began.
“Normal,” Aggie whispered.
“You detach,” Angela explained. “But this john was a real
bastard. He wanted to make me feel bad, to humiliate me.”
“What did he do?”
“He handcuffed me.”
Aggie rubbed her wrist.
“He sodomized me. He bit me. I got a tetanus shot in case he
had rabies.” Angela’s laugh was bitter. “Then he wrapped the money in a condom
and shoved it up my ass. That was it, the last straw.”
Aggie felt the wetness on her cheeks before she realized she
was crying.
“You have to help me get out,” Angela pleaded.
“Of course,” Aggie agreed. “You can come live with me in
Cincinatti. You have a degree. I’m sure you can get a job.”
“A degree in art history isn’t very practical.”
“Just come live with me.” It was Aggie turn to beg.
“I have a plan.”
Aggie stifled a groan when she heard her sister’s words. She
knew the plan would be something weird or her sister would have told her
outright. She also had an intuition that it would involve her active
participation. She pushed her doubts into a corner. Better to let her sister give
an unprejudged explanation.
“What’s the plan?” she asked in as neutral a voice as she
could manage.
Her sister must have heard or anticipated her reluctance, for
her voice was defensive as she replied.
“I know it’s going to sound crazy, but I
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