Chapter 5
After wandering in those vague thoughts for a moment, I checked the time and quickly straightened my clothes.
Thinking the night air might be a little chilly, I wrapped myself in the shawl Mrs. Allmon had made me last winter. It was simple purple cloth, cut from leftover fabric and a bit short, but it was useful to me nonetheless.
After seeing how things stood in the hallway, I carefully pushed the window open. My plan was to slip out through this large window in Mrs. Vino’s room. Even if someone noticed I had left it cracked for my return, I could always make the excuse that I was airing out the room.
Once outside, I paused to read the mood, but the house was quiet. I began walking along the moonlit mountain path.
My heart was pounding. The thought that I was doing something foolish kept tugging at my ankles, but curiosity fought back against it.
Moving feet that felt as heavy as if I were wading through mud, I finally emerged onto the illuminated streets and caught my breath, lifting my head.
It did not have the liveliness of broad daylight, but the night streets carried their own kind of bustle. The shouts of drunks arguing, strains of singing, rowdy squabbles, and the calls of barkers blended in just the right measure.
Slightly on edge, feeling as though I had caught a glimpse of an entirely new world, I hunched my shoulders and searched for the theater.
The area around the theater was especially crowded, seemingly because everyone had come to see the same performance. I could not help being startled by the sheer variety. Quite literally, every sort of person had gathered there.
Ladies in fine Western dress and gentlemen with stylishly trimmed moustaches; wealthy old men with pipes in their mouths and women casting glances their way; noisy boys shouting back and forth; and excited girls trading playful nudges.
A gentleman who had arrived by carriage extended a hand to escort the lady stepping out. Fluffing her skirts with elegant grace, she offered a light smile by way of greeting. Naturally, the theater usher gave them a servile grin.
At the man’s gentle chiding, the woman shot him a coy glare. As I watched them head into the theater while cooling their faces with folding fans, a sudden tap on my shoulder made me turn around. Mark stood there, grinning with a flushed face.
Jerking his head to one side, Mark led the way. Following him away from the throng and into an alley, I saw an open door leading underground in the dim shadows.
A scent I had never smelled before drifted out from the place. It was like thick, pungent tobacco tangled with the heavy stench of rotting fruit. Strong liquor hung in the air between the dust and damp mildew, so potent that merely drawing a deep breath felt intoxicating.
I hesitated for a moment while staring down the stairs, but curiosity drove my feet forward in the end. Hearing Mark follow close behind, I went down into the basement and was instantly overwhelmed by the sight before my eyes.
I had never in my life seen so many people packed into a single space. The interior was sweltering and muggy, the air so thick it was hard to breathe.
Everyone was raising their voices to talk over one another, while occasional discordant notes cut through the din as if musicians were tuning their instruments, leaving my head spinning.
About half the people there seemed out of their right minds. Men stumbled, collapsed into someone else’s lap, and sprawled out on the floor; a woman laughed uproariously with her chest almost entirely bared; a man groped her breasts while stuffing paper bills into them; and other women danced and belted out songs.
Over the stage-like area hung red and yellow canopies. As I looked around in a daze, a tongue of flame suddenly burst out beside me with a whoosh, and I nearly screamed.
A hulking man with his hair tied in a bizarre knot grinned at me, holding an oil-soaked club. Only two or three teeth showed. Staring at him stiffly, afraid that cave-like mouth might spew fire straight at me next, I felt Mark gently tap my shoulder.
There was a small space in front of the people sitting in chairs. I watched Mark pull something from his pocket and spread it over the rag-like, grimy rug. It was a yellowed, faded handkerchief.
When I glanced at him, he plopped down beside me with an embarrassed look. No sooner had I gathered my skirts and sat on the handkerchief than the heart-pounding beat of drums rolled through the room.
A monkey rode out on a unicycle and began pelting balls. It was the first time I had ever seen a real monkey in my life, and it was so close I could clearly see its fur and twitching pink nose, leaving me barely able to draw breath.
After taking a barrage of balls, the master of ceremonies made a huge fuss and vanished behind the curtain, whereupon the monkey began circling the stage while deftly juggling.
The stage right before our eyes was an entirely different world. A clown in white and red paint cracked jokes to work up the crowd, and soon half-naked men and women appeared, weaving their bodies together like serpents in a dance.
An itch crawled over my whole skin, and I lowered my gaze. Throughout the performance, I could feel Mark constantly stealing glances at me from beside me.
Perhaps because of the torches lit all around, the heat was so stifling that sweat kept running down my spine. The thick air clung to my nostrils, slowly tightening around my throat. The heat radiating from Mark’s body pressed right beside me felt as though it might swallow me whole at any moment.
Unable to bear it, I stood up, and Mark lifted his hips with a flustered look, saying, “I’ll—” I pressed down on his shoulder to keep him seated, then scurried past the side of the stage.
With the large stage and audience area in the center and narrow corridors branching off on both sides, the theater’s interior was like a maze. Wondering if I should step outside for some fresh air, I looked around and instinctively walked toward where fewer people seemed to be. If I could dilute this suffocating heat even a little, that would be enough.
The shadowy corridors led sometimes into other passageways, and sometimes to firmly shut wooden doors.
It was not hard to figure out what those rooms were used for. Standing before a door for just a moment was enough to hear a woman’s lilting moans and a man’s straining, ragged gasps.
Wandering the hallways in search of a quiet spot, I finally found a noticeably deserted area. There was a door in the corner of this passage as well, but no one seemed to be inside.
Being away from the place that battered my eyes, nose, and ears all at once finally let me breathe. Leaning my back against the firmly shut door, I took a deep breath. Sluggish, drawling music reached me from far off.
I really shouldn’t just go back like this, should I?
I was curious about the play, but I felt as though every drop of my energy had already been spent. Thinking my shawl felt unpleasantly sticky against my sweaty skin, I unfastened it and wound it loosely around my arm. Just as I wiped the sweat from the bridge of my nose with the back of my hand, the door behind me clicked open. A heavy voice drifted out.
I tried to look back, but I couldn’t. A man with a flushed face had suddenly approached from the front and grabbed my arm with brutal force.
With a hearty laugh, the man wound his arm around my waist. The rotten stench from his mouth as he drew abruptly close made me feel faint, but I shoved him away with all my might.
Rummaging through his pockets, the man thrust out some bills. While I stood in stunned helplessness, he pressed his body against me.
A man with a cigarette in his mouth walked by, but he merely glanced sideways and casually ignored my screams.
In the midst of the racket, screams like mine were nothing out of the ordinary. No one was going to help me. The moment I caught the drunken man’s greasy eyes, terror froze my mind.
Even as I struggled, the man’s hands pawed through my skirt. At those unhesitating hands, I struck him straight across the face.
Taking the blow squarely on the face, the man stumbled back, clutching his nose. Catching my ragged breath, I straightened my clothes. No sooner had I stepped back than the man, eyes turned wild, strode toward me.
It was too late to regret following Mark or indulging my curiosity. Seeing his huge hand raised as if about to strike me down, I curled in on myself by reflex and shielded my head.
It would be a mercy if this ended with just a few blows and kicks. While bracing for the impact with that thought, I let out a small cry as something suddenly dropped and collapsed over me.
