The Trafficked

45

‘How old are you?’

‘Twenty-one, ma’am.’

Mamasan Mimi examined Wednesday’s hands.

‘Washer woman hands,’ she said in a derisive tone, and let them drop.

Wednesday looked at them. They were strong hands but not manicured, it was true. Wednesday always put palm oil on them before she went to sleep, to stop them drying and shrivelling, but they weren’t pretty hands.

‘Take off your clothes.’

Wednesday looked at the three doormen.

‘Go away,’ she said.

The mamasan laughed. ‘They will see all they want soon and more, but okay-if you wish…’

She shooed the men away with a wave of her hand. They pushed one another out of the door, giggling like schoolboys. Wednesday slipped out of her sundress for the mamasan’s appraisal.

‘You have had a child. I can see by the round of your stomach. Still, you have good breasts and a curvy figure, the men will like that, and you are light-skinned with a pretty face. Start tonight. In three hours. Go and get your bikini made in the tailor three doors down from here. Tell him Mamasan Mimi from Lolita’s sent you, hurry, and here…’ she gave Wednesday some change ‘…get something to eat whilst he’s making it. Come back to me in two hours, I will show you where you sleep and where you wash.’

Wednesday took the money and thanked the mamasan. She felt sick to the stomach but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered any more. She had brought Maya into this world and she was all the little girl had. Wednesday would find her and bring her home whatever the cost.

Tonight she would start the search for her daughter.

The tailor stopped eating and took up his tape measure. Wednesday glared at the boys who leaned on their tricycles outside.

‘Wssss…’ they called, to get her attention, and nudged each other as they eyed up the new girl in town.

The tailor measured around her waist, hips and bust. He measured the length of her crotch and his hand lingered. ‘Hurry up,’ she said. ‘I am hungry.’

‘I will get you something to eat and you can sit here and eat it if you like.’

Wednesday waited till his eyes met hers, as he was folding the measuring tape, then she looked deep into them and mouthed the word No.

He shrugged and told her to come back in an hour. She went down the street to a cafe she had known as a child. The old woman serving looked twice at her.

She went to sit at the counter and waited until the old woman came shuffling over to serve her. The woman stopped and scrutinised Wednesday.

‘I recognise you. Long time ago.’

Wednesday smiled and shook her head. ‘Just arrived.’

‘Where are you from?’

‘Davao.’

The woman went and returned with a bowl of rice and fish.

‘What about you? Have you been here for long?’

The old woman set the bowl in front of her and snorted.

‘Long? Thirty years. I was a bar girl myself, when the Americans were here. Things haven’t changed much. Not so many of them here, but plenty of others. That’s where I thought I knew you from-long ago there was a child who looked like you. Then, I thought I saw you again, the other day. A child who looked just like you or the person I thought was you. She was with the Colonel. Just the way you…’ The old woman stopped and looked hard at Wednesday. Wednesday reddened and looked away. Her heart was beating so fast she thought the old woman would see it pounding. ‘Oh well…old eyes play tricks, huh?’

Wednesday smiled and thanked her and got down from her stool. She looked at the old woman who was now busy frying chicken. Wednesday knew she had been recognised. Now her time here was going to be very precious. She picked up her bikini from the tailor’s and headed back to Lolita’s, ready to spend her first night as a dancing girl.