the roiling river at the foot of his mountain that a holy man had prostituted his daughter. He grieved for her, and entered a weeklong trance of prayer and cosmic manipulation. One of the woman’s customers married her. She sent him a letter, dictated to her husband, and read to him by a woman of Ollantaytambo. She told him she was with child.
El Curandéro knew when his granddaughter was born. He did not see her birth in the divining waters. He was attending a llama, one of the oldest she-llamas in his herd. She labored to bring forth her young. He had thought her past the age for bearing offspring, and had marveled at her pregnancy. The delivery was long, and difficult, for it was not a llama that the old one produced. It was a unicorn with a unique horn.
El Curandéro tenderly wiped the afterbirth and other fluids from the foal. The llama was too tired to care for the infant animal. Gently El Curandéro introduced the foal to its mother’s teats. The foal suckled. El Curandéro found special grasses for the mother llama to build her strength. It was several days before she could stand. Meanwhile, her foal grew stronger.
The girl’s mother christened her Salvación. She had a way of winning hearts with her smile. She was graceful as a gazelle, and often laughed as though she heard secret jokes in the ether of the Cosmos. Perhaps she did; she and the unicorn grew in stature and understanding, and each dwelt in the spirit of the other.
Emma Chooses to Act
Emma calmed after a while. Mother’s often-preached self-control was too habitual for Emma to cast it aside for very long, even alone in her own home. Emma began to ponder. She pondered for three days. Emma consulted her rolodex, and then dialed a number. The telephone on the other end rang three times before someone picked it up.
“Hello?” queried the voice on the other end.
Emma answered. “Cousin Salvación? This is Emma Freed, Notta’s daughter. How are you? How are things at your mission?”
“Emma! It’s been a while since I heard from you. I’m well. Matters go forward about as usual here. How are you?”
“Feeling rebellious.”
“Rebellious? About what? Can I help you with that?”
“I hope so. I want to spend a day in the City. With an escort.”
“I see. What can I do for you about that?”
“Do you know a safe and reliable service?”
“Well, that’s not common knowledge for a woman who runs a mission for the homeless.”
“I don’t want to consult the yellow pages.”
“I do have an acquaintance that might help. Do you know the Wong Brothers’ Emporium?”
“Yes. I’ve bought a couple of small things there.”
“Mae Ling who clerks there has a service on the side. It’s the only place I can think of.”
“I know Mae Ling. I bought a small Buddha from her once. Mother hated it. It’s a place to start, Cousin Salvación. Thank you.”
“You’re quite welcome. Keep in touch.”
“I will, Cousin. Goodbye.”
“I’m off to see the Zoo,” she said to the rhododendron by the porch. “It’s where Mother got me.” She went to the bedroom to dress. She put on her best white blouse and her apricot linen suit over her best lingerie. She selected shoes with a low, sensible, heel. She went out and locked the front door. She went to the bus stop. Mother had never let Emma learn to drive.
Mae Ling was behind the counter when Emma entered Wong Brothers. She saw no sign of Shu or Way, the two brothers who owned the Emporium. She presumed they were in the back doing their books.
“Good morning, Miss Freed,” Mae said. “We have not seen you for a long time.”
“My Mother has been ill. I’ve had to care for her.”
“That is a difficult thing to do, Miss Freed. How is she doing?”
“She died about two weeks ago,” Emma said quietly.
“I’m sorry for you. The death of one’s parent is always distressing.”
“Yes. I’m just beginning to learn how to live without her.”
“How may I help you, today?”
“I have decided to go to the Zoo. I’ve never been, you see. Mother would never take me, or allow anyone else to take me.”
“The Zoo is a very fine place, I’m sure. One purchases a ticket, I believe, at the gate. We do not, of course, sell them here.”
“No, I didn’t think you would. Perhaps, though, you can tell me where I might find an escort for the afternoon. Someone to go with me? You see, I’ve not been out on my own very often, and I think I’d feel better if I had someone trustworthy with me.”
“Well, it is not common knowledge among our customers, but the Brothers Wong do occasionally suggest a gentleman or lady for good customers who wish to hire a companion. Would you like me to see if we have someone who could go with you? There is a charge, you understand.”
“Of course. Yes, please; I’d feel much safer being with someone approved by the Wong Brothers.”
“Let me make a few discreet inquiries. Please browse the shop. I must go in the back to telephone.”
“Of course,” Emma said. She perused the ivory carvings (all carefully labeled as being “fossil” ivory). She went on to look at the jade necklaces, and craned her neck to stare at the embroidered bamboo panels high on the walls. She was beginning to edge toward the door, thinking an escort was too risky when Mae returned.
“A very fine young man, Mr. Haakon Spitz, will be here in half an hour. Would you care to take a cup of tea while you wait?”
“Thank you. Tea will be very pleasant indeed. I am a novice at this. How do I pay the charge, to Mr. Spitz?”
“No, you may pay it here. We accept all major credit cards. We identify the purchase, discreetly, as jewelry.” Mae quoted a price per hour. Emma asked for ten hours. Then Emma took her rarely used credit card from her purse and handed it to Mae. Mae wrote up the charge slip, Emma signed it, and took her copy. Then Mae made her tea while they talked of inconsequential things.
Emma Meets a Man
Haakon Spitz surprised Emma. He was much younger than she had expected. She guessed he was in his twenties, at least ten or fifteen years younger than she was. Exercise had sculpted every muscle on his body for maximum beauty. His finely drawn face conveyed both strength and sensitivity. His hair was golden wheat. His blue polyester matched his blue eyes. His smile was at once boyishly open and mysteriously manly. Emma wondered if he had stepped off the cover of a romance novel.
Mae introduced them. Haakon took her arm and escorted her out the door. She knew she had “rented” this man for a ten-hour period. What, now, was she going to do with him all that time? Ten minutes seemed like a lengthy time. She had told him twice about her work at the library.
Haakon had told her to relax and to enjoy what she was doing. He assured her that she could tell him at any time if he did something she didn’t like.
“Be patient with me, Mr. Spitz; I’ve never spent a day with a man before.” Emma blushed.
“I’d guessed that,” he said, patting her arm. “If you just relax, you’ll have a lot of fun. Would you like to lunch first?”
Lunch sounded safe. “Lunch first, I think.”
Mr. Spitz took her to a Chinese restaurant. She let him order. He seemed quite knowledgeable about Chinese dishes. While he spoke to the waiter, Emma worked at quieting her inner turmoil. It had seemed so easier to do this morning, under the shock of her mother’s letter, this coming to the City and renting a man.
Spitz smiled at her and she blushed again. He put the tip of his finger on her hand for an instant. The warmth from it lingered.
“Do you make your living solely as an escort, Mr. Spitz?”
“Please call me Haakon. By calling I’m a painter. Escorting charming women about the City is a pleasant way to supply my palette with paints and my easel with canvasses.”
“Mae Ling hadn’t mentioned that you were a painter.” Emma fel
t a slight chill of fear that was also deliciously naughty tingle along her spine. She knew from reading the romances at the library that artists were often wilder and more dangerous to a girl’s virtue than poets were. A half smile played about her lips. “What do you paint, Mr. Spitz— Haakon?”
“Mostly portraits of Saint Sebastian. The arrows fascinate me.” He looked over her shoulder. His eyes focused on some distant scene. “St. Sebastian was martyred twice, you know,” he went on, caught up in his subject. “According to the legends, anyway. Diocletian had him shot full of arrows, but he survived, with the help of a widow, St. Irene.” Emma let him drone on about Saint Sebastian while she daydreamed about going to bed with him.
The Zoo
After lunch Haakon asked her, “Is there somewhere special you’d like to go?”
“Yes,” Emma said shyly. “I’d like to go to the Zoo. She blushed. “If it’s too gauche, we don’t need to go.”
“I haven’t been to the Zoo since the first month I was in the City.” He smiled at her. “My clients usually want to tour the bars, the motels, the theaters, the nightclubs. The Zoo sounds like fun. I get very tired of touring bars, dancing, that sort of thing.”
“I don’t care for bars and dancing,” Emma said primly.
“I didn’t think you came here just to have a fling you couldn’t have in the suburbs. You’re running from something or to something, aren’t you?”
Emma stared at her teacup a long moment. The question embarrassed her.
“You aren’t like most of the other women I escort, Emma,” he
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