Plumber, who now looks like an old man, is at the store, buying an MP3 player. He is paying in cash; a few old-looking, torn-up, five-dollar bills and the rest is a bunch of crumpled, one-dollar bills. He has difficulty finding cash for the remaining sum. He pours all the coins in his pocket onto the counter. The seller stares at him, giving him a questioning look. Plumber doesn’t mind. He puts the bigger coins together, counts them, and when they make a full dollar, sweeps them to next to the bills. He is trying to make the last dollar with the remaining small coins. He is short by five cents.
The seller keeps staring at him with bored eyes. Plumber keeps searching deep in his pockets, hoping to find a five-cent coin. He is getting stressed. The seller, irritated, shows a stop gesture with his hand. Plumber stops searching and looks up at the seller while his hands are still in the pockets.
“Save the five cents. You’ll need it more than I do,” the seller says with a generous tone.
“Oh. Thank you, son,” Plumber responds humbly.
The seller starts collecting the cash off the counter. Plumber is looking at the tall wall behind the seller, which is covered with collector’s items. Not knowing anything about music, he recognizes only a few of the music instruments: a guitar, a trumpet, and a french horn. Each seems to be signed by the famous artist that one day played it. Plumber feels overwhelmed by the vast world of art that he knows nothing about.
“Who is it for?” the seller breaks Plumber’s attention. “I don’t suppose an old fella like yourself would be into music.”
“No,” the plumber says with a chuckle, “I don’t understand much about art. It is for my daughter. Her birthday is coming up.” He offers a big smile, hoping that the seller buys the story.
“It is certainly a perfect gift. Trust me on that. Chicks dig this shit,” the seller says with a bit rude tone while winking at Plumber.
The smile is wiped off the Plumber’s face. Upset about the remark, he frowns at the seller. His serious look is a bit intimidating. The seller plays it down with a sneer, and turns away with the cash in his hand.
“Excuse me. I am not sure about this gift for my son,” another customer asks the seller. She is a 54-year-old woman.
“Oh, that is certainly an ideal gift for a young man,” the seller responds. “How old is he, 20, 25?”
“11.”
“Oh, yeah, even better. That is most certainly an appropriate gift for a young, 11-year-old man. Trust me on that. Do you pay by cash or credit card?”
Fed up with the seller’s nonsense, Plumber takes the MP3 player and leaves the shop.
Tatiana, a 24-year-old, sexy, black woman is using the MP3 player. She is dancing to the music as she is sitting on an old, worn-out sofa. Plumber enters with a tray of drinks, goes directly towards her, puts one before her while making eye contact. She understands the eye contact and pulls herself up a bit on the sofa. Plumber puts the last drink before Lady, who now looks much older, with some white hairs here and there. She is resting on a throne-like, giant, rocking chair with worn-out colors. She has her glasses on, reading Tolstoy’s ‘War and Peace’. The thick book’s empty place is obvious in the Lady’s small library in the corner of the office. The library is a fine selection of the best literature in human history.
“Starlet, my dear,” Plumber says with a kind tone, “would you help grandpa with the breakfast dishes. My knees are nagging too much this morning.”
“Of course,” Starlet responds while jumping off the carpet like a spring. She is now grown into a very attractive, young woman. A kind smile on her face, she takes the tray from Plumber. Plumber kisses her on the head as she passes by. He watches her and waits until she leaves the room. He then makes another eye contact with Tatiana. She understands the signal, turns off the MP3 player, and starts a loud conversation with her colleague at the end of the office.
“Starlet is something else, isn’t she, Ginger.”
“Huh?” Ginger is taken by surprise with the question that comes out of nowhere. She is a white girl with red, curly hair.
“I mean with such beautiful eyes,” Tatiana continues, “she could make tons of money, doing anything, like anything.”
Lady’s attention is grabbed. She stops rocking the chair.
“Yeah? Like what?” Ginger asks.
“Like anything, I don’t know, like modeling. She is prettier than any model I’ve seen.”
Lady impatiently jumps in. “In a city that every talentless, lazy high-school girl dreams of getting paid for just being pretty, modeling is more of a gamble than a career. Tell them, Brandy, tell them how many times you posed for free, hoping that someday you’ll get discovered. And in the end, she did get discovered, but by smart photographers who were searching for free sex with Asian chicks; they fucked her for free, paying nothing. There was a day that you could shine out among the many other models, gain a name for yourself by accidentally leaking a photo of yourself with tits and everything, but these days everybody would put the tits out. This city no longer has any shame, so being shameless no longer gives you an advantage either.”
There is a bit of silence. The girls in the room are no match for Lady when it comes to words. Tatiana looks at Plumber. He gives her an insistent look.
“I don’t know,” Tatiana continues. “There must be tons of opportunities for a pretty face like her, like, like—”
“— like dancing?” Ginger helps.
“Yeah, like dancing. I bet many people would pay good money to watch a beautiful girl like her dance.”
“Dancing doesn’t make money, it eats money,” Lady responds firmly. “We gotta pay for the dancing lessons, and she would have to survive the endless sequence of tortures of mastering dance on the toes or opening the legs 180 degrees, you know, the kind of art that pleases the men, and at the end of the day if, if she has the talent, and if she manages to pull through, she would be stuck in a low-wage job, hoping that one day she might get discovered by the people in the show business, and become a universal star. Of course, she could try stripping in the meanwhile, but even that takes money. Did you know that that fat, old pig, Augustine, makes girls pay $115 per night to have a spot in his strip club? 115 fucking dollars! And they have to make that even by the tips and private lap dances, and if they don’t make it even, which is usually the case, they have to fuck the men that they have turned on by their dance, for some extra cash. Whereas in Lady’s House, you would just lay down, open your legs, much less than the painful 180 degrees in dancing, and by the morning you’ll have some nice cash in your pocket, safe and secure, simple and easy, no fuss, no muss.”
Lady turns back to Tatiana, suspecting something. “What is with you today? Did you have a rough night with customers? Coming up with ideas one after another to get Starlet out of here. Do you have anything against—”
“— I was just listening to music,” Tatiana interrupts, “and songs, and thinking how to make more money for you. Just listening to songs. That’s all.”
“Oh, she is going to make tons of money for this house,” Lady responds confidently. “I assure you of that. Trust me on that. I didn’t just fuck around in Harvard’s business school. I know how to turn this gold mine into cash. I know the business. I know all about the business. Just wait. Wait and see how much we make after September 11.”
“What will happen on September 11?” Ginger asks impatiently.
“My golden fruit gets ripe, turns 18, becomes legal,” Lady responds with joy while rocking in her chair.
“What is the difference?” Brandy asks.
“The difference is 20 years in prison,” Lady responds with a chuckle. That is how the law defines the difference between love and rape. Men in this city have become conservative, don’t make risky moves anymore. And Lady’s House has a brand to protect. And when it comes to everlasting businesses like ours, nothing is more important than brand and reputation. Trust me on that. I know the business. I know all about the business.”
Tatiana gives an I-tried-my-best look to Plumber, whose face has turned red from all the fury. She goes back to listening to music with the MP3 player. Plumber is disappointed, and storms out of the room.
Plumber is in the Garden, looking up at the sky. “Lord, give me courage,” he prays desperately, “the courage to do the right thing. Or else you gotta send a miracle. It takes a miracle to save her.”