by Bryan Hall
“Oh,” said the driver, as his less-than-perfect teeth showed through his wide smile. “Many blessings and congratulations!”
“Thank you,” said Frank, smiling back. “Good day.”
“Thank you, sir!” said the driver as he waved good-bye with the bill clenched in his fist.
A steady wind blew through the valley of concrete and steel surrounding the busy street. Frank steadied his hat with one hand as he walked up the wide marble steps to the large glass double doors, one held open by the hotel doorman. He thanked the man in Malay and entered the hotel’s atrium.
He walked past the stonewall pond filled with every breed of the hotel’s namesake, then through two large columns to the hotel’s main desk. The attendant was sandwiched between the wall and the semicircular desk, which had gates on both ends to allow him to exit in either direction.
“Good afternoon, sir,” said the attendant in a voice that creaked like an old door. “May I have your name, please?”
“Franklin Lawrence,” Frank answered.
“Greetings, Mr. Lawrence,” said the attendant. He looked through the guest book to locate Frank’s room number. The thin man was in his fifties, and tall enough to see Frank eye to eye when he stood up straight. He was also Frank’s equal in fashion, with his fine suit and manicured nails. “I see your last stay was nearly a month ago. How was your trip, Mr. Lawrence?” he asked.
“It went very well, Mister—” said Frank as he scanned for a name tag to return the favor of familiarity. He couldn’t find one on the man’s suit but did find it on the desk. “Xiang,” Frank said, hardly missing a beat.
“You are welcome,” said Mr. Xiang. He then addressed the attentive bellhop who stood nearby. “Take Mr. Lawrence’s luggage to room 731.”
The bellhop took the suitcase from Frank’s hand and put it on a strolling carrier.
“Just a moment,” said Frank as he held out a hundred-dollar bill for the bellhop. “Can you stop by the gift shop and get me a bouquet of your finest flowers?”
“Yes, sir. I’ll be right back,” answered the enthusiastic young man as he carefully took the bill from Frank’s hand and bowed his head graciously.
“Just one more moment,” said Frank as the bellhop was about to walk off. “Leave them at the door with my luggage. I’ll take them inside.”
“What about your change?” asked the bellhop.
“Keep it. If it’s less than thirty percent, charge it to my bill,” Frank answered.
The bellhop eagerly walked off to the left of the counter and disappeared around a corner.
Mr. Xiang adjusted his glasses as he ran his finger along the rows and columns of slots on the key card box to find Frank’s room key. “Here is your key, Mr. Lawrence.”
“Thank you,” said Frank as he took the card and turned to walk away.
“Oh, Mr. Lawrence, I almost forgot. You have a package.”
“I do?”
“Yes, sir,” said Mr. Xiang. He reached under the desk and retrieved a large manila envelope. “Here you are, sir,” he said as he handed the envelope to Frank.
“What is it?” He flipped and rotated the envelope.
“I don’t know, Mr. Lawrence, but it has your wife’s name on it.”
Frank had just located the name tag. “I see that,” said Frank as he noted the obvious.
“And one last thing before you leave, Mr. Lawrence,” said Mr. Xiang with one finger pointed up as he smiled with an open mouth.
“What is that?” asked Frank suspiciously.
“Enjoy your second honeymoon.”
Frank’s shoulders relaxed. He returned the smile. “Thank you, Mr. Xiang.”
Frank secured the envelope between his side and right arm and walked to the elevator. He pushed the UP button and waited a moment. A bell sounded and the elevator doors opened. He stepped inside and waited for the doors to close. As the doors slowly slid shut his phone rang.
“Hello, dear,” he answered.
“Hello, husband,” said Xiulan. “I was wondering if the front desk had a package for me.”
“Yes, they did. What is it?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“The only surprise I want is to see you in that nightie,” he whispered with lowered eyebrows.
“I will see you soon. And remember, it’s a surprise—no peeking.”
“Yes, dear,” he said giddily.
She hung up.
He was all the more curious as to the contents of the envelope. When he squeezed the middle with his thumbs, the volume of the package shifted to the top. When he squeezed the top with one hand, the volume returned to the bottom. It felt like several folds of a soft material. He imagined it was a new negligee just for their long-anticipated reunion. He pulled the envelope from under his arm so he could read its label. It was obviously addressed to Xiulan, that much of the foreign characters he could make out, but the rest was Greek to him (or in this case, Mandarin).
He reasoned one small look would hardly ruin the surprise. He tried to gently peel open the corner of the envelope, but it was sealed too tightly.
He reached into his jacket’s inside pocket, where he kept various grooming items he often used to appear his best before meeting an important client. He retrieved a nail file and slid it under and along the envelope’s adhesive-sealed seam.
As the file parted the halves of the envelope, a thick, green fog flowed slowly out and upward. He quickly held the envelope away from his face and ran his fingers along the seam to reseal it. The cloud lingered midair before him. He turned his head sideways and held his breath as he used the envelope to wave the cloud away from him.
The emerald tendrils floated toward the button panel. As he leaned closer to examine it, the elevator bell rang and the doors opened.
“Going down?” asked the plump, elderly Englishwoman, who wore a heavy fur coat and hat. Her bright-red lipstick made her pale skin and bobbed strawberry-blonde hair look even fairer.
“No, ma’am. Going up,” said Frank as he looked nervously about the elevator to find where the green cloud had gone.
“Beggin’ your pardon,” apologized the woman when she saw Frank’s expression. “I’ll catch the next lift.”
“No problem, ma’am.”
When the doors didn’t immediately shut, Frank went to press the CLOSE DOORS button, but instead of hitting one button his finger pressed four at once. The elevator didn’t respond.
He tried to press the tiny button again. The doors closed and the elevator continued its ascension. It was then Frank realized the green fog had dissipated.
As soon as the elevator reached the top floor, he hurried out to his penthouse suite. The luggage cart was beside the door, bearing Frank’s suitcase and the bouquet of flowers the bellhop had purchased per Frank’s request.
Frank ran the key card through the slot and opened the door. He placed his suitcase just inside, and then carried the bouquet of flowers to the dinner table. He quickly put the DO NOT DISTURB sign on the outside handle and deadbolted the door.
“Xiulan, I’m home!” he announced.
“I’m in the bedroom, waiting,” she answered back.
“That’s my girl.” Frank smiled as he threw the envelope, his hat, and jacket on a nearby chair. He kicked his shoes off and tossed his belt and tie aside, then proceeded to unbutton his shirt as he walked toward the bedroom.
He opened the door. To his left was a tall hardwood dresser and a full-length mirror with Xiulan’s profile reflected in it. The wall was lined with white-curtained windows, and at the foot of the bed before him was a rattan chair with a round, high top.
Next to the chair stood Xiulan with her back turned. The sunlight pouring in through the curtains passed through her silk nightie and revealed her silhouette.
“Did you bring the package?” Xiulan asked with her back still turned.
“The package?” He had already forgotten. “Oh, it’s in the living room—but whatever is inside is unnecessa
ry for what I have in mind.”
“But not for what I have in mind,” she said as she turned her head and looked at herself in the mirror.
“Dear, are you sure whatever is in that package is ... safe?”
“You opened it?” she asked.
“I’m sorry. I did,” he confessed. “I thought it was a new nightie. Xiulan, there’s something bad in that package.”
“No! It’s not bad,” she objected. Her usually soft voice grew loud. “It’s the answer to my prayers.”
“Your prayers?” he laughed. “Since when do miracles come in a manila envelope?”
“Don’t mock me,” she said with a frown as she looked away. “You know Chinese people have knowledge of things western doctors don’t.”
“Nobody’s sick! Who needs a doctor?”
“I do!” she yelled. She turned to face him. “Look at me!”
From her small, round face and large, almond-shaped eyes to the long black hair she only let down when they made love, he could find no flaw. However, if he were honest, he would admit she gained several pounds.
“You look fine,” he said.
“You’re lying!” she accused, and then turned away.
“Xiulan, at this moment I don’t care how you look. I’m so ready to make love to you, it doesn’t make a difference in the world.”
“So, you’re desperate, is that it?”
“Why are you acting like this? I don’t care that you’ve put on a few pounds. You’re my wife, and I love you.”
“You’re just horny.”
“Yes, you’re right. I’m horny. I get to make love to my wife for one week on our honeymoon, then I’m called off to Japan for a month. And every day all I can do is think of being with you.”
“For someone who was thinking of me so much, you seemed to do rather well in making another business deal.”
“This is crazy! What in the world happened to you?”
She turned around again. “This is what happened to me!” she said as she invited him to look at her body. “You left me alone for a month! At least you could have let me return to my parents until you returned. I was so depressed all I could do was eat, and eat, and eat.”
During their month apart from each other, she found comfort in chocolates dark and sweet, bonbons, éclairs, pastries, cakes, red meat, sausages and bacon, pasta, and rich sauces of every kind. She didn’t mean to get so carried away, but she had never had the freedom to do so. She was never wealthy before, and never with someone who encouraged her to enjoy the finer things in life. She was brought up to control herself in emotion and appetite.
“I’m sorry I left you alone,” he said. “But you know how important this deal was for me and our future, and you knew I had business to wrap up here before we go home. In all honesty, honey, you’re still beautiful to me.”
He leaned forward and took her hands in his. She tried to pull away but he held her firmly, and then kissed her forehead.
She pouted girlishly. “I’m fat.”
“No, you’re not, honey.”
“Yes, I am. I look like one of those American girls on TV,” she said with a whimper.
Frank laughed. A moment later she joined in.
He brushed her cheek with his hand and tucked her hair behind her ear. “You really want what’s in that envelope?” Frank asked.
She nodded her head.
“I’ll be right back with it,” he assured her.
He walked into the living room to find the package. It took him a minute to remember he had tossed it on the chair underneath his jacket. He brought her the envelope.
“There’s something crazy in this,” he said as he handed it to her. “It looks like it’s poisonous.”
“It’s not poison!” she huffed as she rolled her eyes. “I just hope you didn’t waste it all.”
“I didn’t know what it was,” he explained.
“Just watch,” she demanded.
When she opened the envelope, the same murky, green fog slowly rose from the package. Frank took a deep breath and held it in as he stepped back cautiously. Xiulan closed the envelope, then with her hands she waved the fog toward her plump belly. She turned her head aside and lifted her hands out of the cloud. The fog seemed to evaporate, and with it the pounds she had put on the past month.
Frank exhaled. “That’s amazing!” He slapped his hand over his mouth, then let his fingers fall underneath his jaw as if to keep it from falling to the floor. “I had no idea!”
“I told you,” she said. “Chinese medicine is different from your western medicine.”
She opened the envelope and waved another plume of fog toward her thighs. The cottage cheese ripples in her flesh soon became smooth.
She held the envelope behind her back as she stared at her buttocks. She was about to open the envelope when Frank objected. “Look, if you found the perfect body in a bag, why not use it to your advantage? If it can shrink some things, why not leave some things the way they are, you know?”
“So, you like my butt big?” she asked sincerely.
“You may have put on some weight, but it’s not all bad,” said Frank as his eyes darted to one side and back.
“Really? Men like big butts?”
At first Frank was embarrassed to answer, but then nodded his head.
“Okay. How about this?” she asked.
She bathed in the fog from her waist up to her bustline. Her breasts seemed to increase by at least a cup size, though in reality the fog had merely narrowed her waist. Frank’s eyes and smile also increased in size, without any aid from the green gas.
“So, you liked my typical Asian body the way it was, but now you like it better?” she asked.
He wasn’t sure how to respond. “I didn’t ask you to use the stuff,” he reminded her. “I told you I was fine with you the way you were, but if you want to play plastic surgeon with the ‘creeping death’ gas, then by all means, let’s have some fun with it.”
He looked at his body in the mirror. “You know, I could definitely do with a smaller gut.” He pinched the excess of flesh between his thumb and forefinger.
“You can—after I’m done,” she said.
“What do you mean? You’re fine.”
“I’m not finished yet. Go to the living room. I’ll call you when it’s time.”
“I don’t think you need to improve much more.”
“I told you I wanted to surprise you.”
He smiled as he exited the bedroom, and then pulled the door shut. He paced in the living room, anxiously awaiting his new bride. After a moment, he removed his socks and pants, and then continued pacing in his unbuttoned shirt and boxers.
He walked back to the door and opened it a crack to peek inside.
“Are you ready yet?”
“Not yet,” she said. Her breasts and hips were larger than before.
Though he was highly aroused at her new appearance, something didn’t quite look right about her.
“Did you do something to your face?” Frank asked carefully.
“I didn’t like having such wide cheeks. I thought I would make my face more slender and youthful.”
“Okay. Just don’t get carried away. I don’t want people thinking I’m a cradle robber when we walk down the street.”
“When I’m finished, you won’t care what people think,” she said with a perverse smile.
She pushed him out of the room and closed the door.
Frank heard the door lock. He was so excited he clapped his hands and rubbed them together in anticipation. He paced around the living room again, now in a dance. Before he got too caught up in his moment of reverie, he returned to the door.
“Are you finished yet?” he asked loudly with his cheek against the door. He watched as his breath formed pulsating patches of fog on the cherry-wood finish.
“Not yet,” she said in a soft voice.
“Are you going to save some for me?”
“Yes. Just wait.”
He waited for the sound of the lock to turn. “Honey? Open the door,” he said as he wiggled the door handle. “Xiulan? Are you all right?”
There was no response.
“Dear, you’re scaring me,” he laughed nervously. “If you don’t open the door right now, I’m going to break it down. I’m not kidding.”
When she didn’t respond he thrust his shoulder into the door. He nearly broke his arm but the door didn’t give. He thrust his shoulder in again ... and again. There was a loud crack as the wood split around the handle and hinges. He threw his other shoulder into the door. The entire door, minus the deadbolt and door set, went crashing into the full-length mirror beside the bed.
Frank stepped over the threshold and carefully placed his bare feet between the mirror shards scattered on the floor. Next to the broken glass was the manila envelope, unsealed and emptied of its contents.
Xiulan giggled softly. “My, you are an eager one,” she said.
She sat in the rattan chair at the foot of the bed, resting her palms on the edge of the seat and dangling her feet above the floor. She had perfectly sized breasts, a perfectly flat stomach, perfectly thick hips and perfectly round buttocks. Her face was perfectly shaped and her lips were perfectly tempting. Everything about her was perfectly perfect, save one minor thing.
“No!” cried Frank. “No, no, no!”
“What’s the matter?” asked Xiulan in a high-pitched voice. “Aren’t I the perfect size?”
He lowered his eyes in revulsion, to be spared the abominable sight, but there in each shard of mirror on the floor was reflected the dreadful truth. Like a congregation of nymphs, each image of her laughed at him in unison.
Xiulan, with her perfectly proportioned body, was now as small and fragile as a little girl’s doll.
PIPER AT THE GATES
BY DAVID BENTON & W.D. GAGLIANI
In every grain of wheat there lies hidden the soul of a star.
~William Gillman
He pushed his index finger into the wetness and waited, knowing he had to find the exact spot and not wanting to disturb the subject too soon.
