THe dark side of the moon part 3

We make our way to the moon

We patched the remote access codes of our control system to ground control so that they could recalculate our course to the moon. 

Our onboard computers could do it but they pretty much worked like the GPS systems of old back on earth - they calculated a route based on some inconsistent data and space maps. Though correct, the route could be long. 

Luckily it added only an hour to original planned arrival. We were now being flown from earth and very little input was required from us. We called it 'space cruising'

Jack was preoccupied and troubled by what happened. He had flown hundreds of missions, countless but he had not seen this before. Space rarely afforded you the chance to be wrong. 

Is it systematic or mechanical. Computer error or input error...no no this can't be.

Justin now totally relaxed takes a long look at Eve. He wants to say something but seems to get preoccupied in his thoughts...

'What Justin?' Eve says. ' don't ask me about my boyfriend because you know what the answer will be. And no I will not go on a date with you.'

"Well you are plain wrong. Remember the doctor you told me about when you had a leg problem.  I think you said he was a great physio...can you refer me to him?"

Eve laughed. 

"Oh come off it Justin. I know and you that the 'him' is a her. And you should just get to the point. If you want date just ask but don't pretend you have some problem that requires physiotherapy."

"Ok then can I have her number?" Justin made the play. 

"Certainly not!. I am not going to pump my physiotherapist to you. She's single but not desperate.' Eve put paid to that. 

The space craft entered the moon's orbit as per programme, or should that be as per reprogram. 

Jack's neurotic​ nature had meant for the last couple of hours he had been calculating fuel loads, Velocities and weights to sort of try and explain the issue they just had. 

Justin on the second orbit around the moon had already started the decent protocol, several burnouts to change the angle of the craft. The laser beacons had been located and the range finders were in use. 

Several lights in the general darkness of the moon began to appear. Several mining  outfits were in operation and they related in general to the big space nations and of course the largest and most powerful corporations on earth. The united states only intimated, as the first nation on the moon, that they continued to have a few research and military related based on the moon. It's interest in mining was in minority stakes in American companies on the moon. 

This was of course not true. Zeneca, the largest mining corporation on the moon was an American government outfit through and through. The mine and related installations spread over 12 square miles both below and above surface. Tunnels and interconnected chambers.

From the actually mines themselves, to the power generators, to the oxygen supply units, to the carbon scrubbers, you name it it was there. The designers had wanted it to be totally self sufficient come what may. 

The landing site was fast approaching. The lights, the platform and the communication mast, were the pieces of equipment which came into sight and additionally the huge fuel tanks right next to the landing platform. 

5,000 feet above the surface, Justin would do a very tricky but also risky maneuver; rotate the space and land it facing upward in the dock. 

Once rotated and slowed down, the four support legs would deploy to allow for upright landing. 

The landing was accompanied by a blast from the main booster rocket. Once landed safely, the supply capsule would disengage automatically and move through a dedicated tunnel system to one of three receiving warehouses.

The crew change passengers would be moved from the space ship from a self detaching capsule through a service chute, which would bring them to the landing and take off area. 

They would be assisted out of their suits as this whole area was pressurised and had an oxygen supply. 

The men would have a quick coffee, receive brief handovers from those who were leaving. 

To be continued..

a look into the wishing well 7

Just as the maid was clearing the table of the remnants of the tea table, George walked in.

His mother had called him to come from where-ever he was because it was important that they talk. 

It had meant that George cancel his scheduled meetings for the rest of the day. He had to come up with some creative excuses to break some of the commitments he made months in advance.

"Hello mother what brings you to our home this fine afternoon?"  Were the first words to come out of George's mouth.

"Do I not have grandchildren to see? Will you deny me this pleasure.. Away with you. I will come when I please. I am still your mother," she said. 

Before sitting down George kissed his mother on the forehead before doing the same with Olive and stroking her hair. He sat next to her. 

"George I am old and I cannot keep up with this fighting amongst you and your brothers. They came with these rumours that the children certainly couldn't not be yours. "

George was about to say something but his mother raised her frail hand to stop him.

"You must listen. I don't ever talk much. Olive has explained the situation to me. But I a traditional and superstitious woman. Those are not children from your own loins.

You may fool anyone but me."

" You must also be mistaken to think we had Dutch or whatever heritage in us. Neither Olive. Our families have known each other for generations. " 

"Mother Please!" George tried to stop her mother

Olive sensed the tension and excused herself to feed the babies.

While she breast fed the triplets her mind was in turmoil and while feeding the little boy something struck her that reminded her of Pierre. His eyes or something about his face. 

But no babies usually look like everyone in the family she thought.. maybe it's just my mind. I have been thinking about Pierre these last few days. It's affecting the way I see things. 

As she walked back to the dining room she could still hear George and her mother speak and she stopped in her tracks as she heard something that made her go pale..

George, George! I never thought you would have four children by now. My dear I had accepted that you had lost the first one and I regretted that we sent that girl away. I was talking as a mother and I know what it feels like to carry a child for 9 months and then someone takes away your baby. 

I never thought to ask you because I believed you were young and didn't want to be burdened by a child at such an age!" 

Olive walked in and George appeared shocked and surprised. His mother did not even look up even after knowing that olive had stumbled on on the secret.

"George? Tell me is that so? You have another child? When? How? I thought you could not have children" Olive visibly shaken said

" It's not what you think and it is more complicated than you think," was George's response.

Now that it was out in the open George tried to explain to Olive what happened and how the family dealt with. 

Olive didn't understand why then he was infertile? 

This part, not even his mother had known. He reminded his mother once when he screamed and told her that he pulled a muscle...well it was something worse. This is what had caused the infertility. He had delayed in seeking treatment. 

Olive concerned had asked​ did it not impact on her. George reassured her that the infection was treated but because he took long to treat it that's why he is infertile.

And olive thought that was the worst of it until he told her about the first failed IVF. That was his sperm used but it had not worked. 

The second attempt was not his even though he had said it was his! Frankly he had no idea.

Olive collapsed on the chair in total shock! George went over to comfort her. Utterly devastated and not able to compose herself. The rage she had through years of self control and discipline kept under wraps, returned. 

She was not the type to hit people but anything close by could be used as a projectile.

She moved George out of the way she picked up a vase and smashed it against​ the wall and ran out the room. 

"Olive please!" He pleaded as she ran out

"Let her be," George's mother said, " She needs to let it out. It is better this way. I would do worse than that if it was me my son. Give her time."

Usually the composed business man, adept at troubleshooting and fixing problems, he was at a loss at what to do now. 

Just then the driver had returned to pick his mother up and she stoically told him

" Be a man. Face up to it. Fix it." 

And she left. 

Needless to say, Olive did not speak to George for a good month. They slept in the same bed. Ate at the same table. 

She was polite. Responded to his 'good mornings and good evenings'. Yes thank you and no thank you. Beyond that nothing else came from her lips. 

He gave her time as her mother suggested. 

She became more attached to the triplets and made it difficult for George to spend time with them.

Always it was either they need to sleep or it's feeding time or they need to go for walk. 

He gave up as he noticed this instructionist behaviour. 

One morning Olive turned up at the fertility clinic and sought out the director of the facility. Her doctor and George's​ was at the meeting. 

She was calm and clear but no less demanding of the need to get to the bottom of this. 

"I want to know who the sperm donor was!'

"Well my lady, it's clear our records show it was your own husband. I thought that was clear?" The director said.

"Well I am no fool. If you want me to go down the legal route I will and you will disclose who it is. ? First I will do a simple DNA test to prove it is not my husband's children?"

The doctors looked at each other and then at Olive. The silence was deafening. 

"Olive it is best you speak to your husband. We strongly encourage you to do this. It is a friendly warning that if you take this route, it could present some unforeseen circumstances. Besides, we know the law, we are protected by the law. Think about your family, your beautiful babies. This is not the time.."

"Are you threatening me director?" Olive said as she stood up , " what if I prove that you went behind my back with my husband to let me carry children which were not his as my understanding?"

To be continued

a look into wishing well part 6

Pierre had bought some new clothes and that day when he woke up, he had had a long shower, shaved and styled his beard. 

He made sure to use his favourite scent from back in the days - the smell of the sea as Olive used to say.

Though now less popular and considered out of fashion, it didn't matter. He had always known the power of a fragrance is its strength to evoke memory, you remembered things when you came across certain smells. 

He looked different. He was older, slightly tanned from all that time in the sun. He had gained weight but in a good way. 

The appointment was for three in the afternoon. The Hilton hotel roof garden restaurant. But it was only eight in the morning and he was already nervous.

How would she react? Will she walk away when she finds out I tricked her to meet me. I hope she does not come with her husband or else its all for nothing. 

He decided he would wait by the bar before taking a seat in the restaurant. At least he could see her come in and then make a move. 

Drinking his sparkling water the bar offered a vantage point to see all the guests coming into the restaurant. 

Olive came in just after 3:05pm. She wore dark sun glasses and a wide hat. A two piece tailored suit pale blue in colour and tan coloured high heels. 

The waiter led her to the table reservation and offered her a cold glass of mineral water. Olive looked at her watch. 

I walked in and pulled out the chair next to olive. 

'Bonjour mademoiselle. Olive how are you? "

He tried to smile but was tense as he saw the pleasant look on Olive's face change.

She recognised him. It took a moment but she knew it was him. The smell took her back. For a moment she was confused. Should she be happy or angry or both. A part of her still remembered the affection but in truth she did not feel for him. It had been a mistake to fall for him. And so it was. 

"So you are the magazine representative for French vogue? Really? Did you have to use trickery to meet me?? Asked Olive.

" what could I do? I knew you would not meet me under any other circumstance. But please hear me out."

" I didn't come to cause you trouble. I know you have probably moved on with your life. I struggled to and I am not asking for you to feel sorry for me."

"And I won't!" Was Olive's cold reply.

Pierre's heart sank. So this is her now he thought? I better make it quick.

"Right. Olive maybe you do not know why I left in the first place but let me explain.." 

Olive lifted her hand to stop me from carry on and said, " Don't worry I know about the money and everything that happened between you and my husband. You chose the money. I am OK with it.. "

'But what did you want me to do?" Pierre asked

" I didn't for you and for us?" Pierre said

Olive shot back, ' for us? Are you crazy? I was never yours in the first place.'

' But he was going to ruin your life if I had not left and did what he told me!'

'My husband is not that kind of man.'

'So if you will excuse me I will leave now. I was hoping I would never see you again. Please stay out of my life. I will not let my husband know you are around or there will be big trouble for you.' She said.

" Olive you once loved me. You. An act like this..but the heart does not forget. OK. I wish you a happy life. Its the last you will hear from me. You really have become a rich man's wife! "

Olive did not even look back she walked out and Pierre was left trying to gather his senses. It had gone worse than he expected. Seven months he had looked to this meeting. 

Tomorrow he was on the plane and he would leave his sorrows and heartache where it all started.

" Waiter!" He called, " a glass of cognac on the rocks. Make it a double"

George and Olive walked into the clinic a month later. Olive was here for the second attempt at IVF, George had trusted his urologist to find him a high calibre donor with good qualities.  

What George missed was when the doctor said, " and we will keep your dutch heritage going also." 

He had thought that the doctor had meant it literally he would have a donor with part Dutch part Asian ancestry. 

Success! Olive became pregnant. There was jubilation. And as with most IVF treatments, multiple births are likely - Olive was carry triplets. Somehow she managed and it turned out to be not such a difficult pregnancy. She was lucky. She stayed at home, ate well and the best doctors attended to her. 

At 35 years of age Olive finally got her wish and became a mother. It was the start of an incredible period of her life...

Two boys and a girl were born to her.  The boys had dark eyes but strangely familiar, the girl had light green eyes like her. But those eyes from the boys...staring at her reminded her of someone but who? Not George.

In fact the children looked more European than Asian. 

Within the family mumbling and tongue wagging  behind George's back had already started. 

"Those cannot be his children." His brothers said. 

"It must be one of the photographers from these fancy magazines she models for. You know how these Europeans are with our women!"

"Besides Olive is a snob."Their wives said. "She thinks she better than us but she is nothing but a tramp!"

Tension in the family had been simmering for years. The family was in factions. Since George's father was no more, his mother controlled everything and she would decide who controlled what of the family wealth.

She knew it, once the passed away open warfare would break out as each person tried to get the  best parts of the family empire. With or without a Will nothing would stand in the way of the feuding siblings. 

He sons had told her so, " whether you write a will in our favour or against we will decide who gets what. We built this company with our father. So we have a right to decide how it will be run!"

On one side was George, his mother and sisters. On the other side were George's brothers and some uncles. 

As the youngest George's mother felt she had to be on his side. His sisters were close to him because they practically raised him. His brothers cared little for the input of the sisters because they would not inherit any part of the business empire since they would marry and their first concern would be their husbands. 

His brothers also had another reason to fight George. While growing up, they helped their father build the organization into what is was now and George had come much later into a wealthy and thriving organization. 

Besides the problems he had caused ( with that poor girl getting pregnant and his other ways), he was reckless they thought. But George had a natural head for money. 

He made his father make choices which were against his brother's advice and this angered them. And to make matters worse when these choices proved to be correct they seethed with rage as it increased his influence over their father. 

They always held this against George - the child he had with the poor girl. But they had swore in family council never to expose it or bring scandal to the family. They kept their word with great difficulty. 

Now the birth of the triplets was a gift...a perfect gift to bring about the downfall of George. First George himself with his scandal which had cost them a lot of money to cover up. Now his wife and the threat to our reputation. 

One evening George's mother turned up. Her ears were burning from the constant gossiping and rumors. She was a direct and old fashioned lady. 

After tea she said to Olive, " you know these children of yours don't have such a yellow skin why is that? "

" what do you mean yellow, mama?" Said Olive Slightly offended even though she knew what she meant

"Olive we are Asian through and through. George may be slightly pale. And you too but I know your family and I can give you the history of our family for a 100 years. There was never any dutch British French or Arab blood in us."

" Olive I love you like my own child. Has there been another man? "

"Of course not. Speak to George. He has not told you that I had IVF treatment and the doctor helped George and I to conceive. We just did not want people to know?"

" And the doctor was sure it was from George and not anybody else. No mistakes?"

"No mama. Twice we tried."

To be continued

A look into the wishing well part 5

With a glass of brandy in one hand and a forlorn look in his eye, he would sit on the couch and stare straight ahead of him. 

In front of him was that painting of Olive. It had not diminished. The fire in her eyes was still visible. Her delicate fingers and her shapely figure. The skin that radiated health and barely touched by the sun. 

She had the look of love and that love had been his, so he thought. It was, according to him only a matter of time before she became his. 

That never happened. The capriciousness he once told her about came through. She had turned on him at the turn of a screw. 

But what did Pierre expect? She was someone's wife and he was wrong to think he  could muscle his way into her heart. For a while it seemed this would be the outcome..

The money Olive's husband had paid him to leave was enough to buy a small apartment in a run down part of Paris. For a while it was a good investment. The rental income kept coming as long as everything in the apartment was in good working order and he had the right tenants. 

But the neighbourhood kept getting worse and more run down.

A robbery here a run down boiler there; soon the cost of keeping things going was more dear than what Pierre was making. 

Pierre decided to sell at whatever price he could get. 

The alcohol was beginning to take over everything. He could not paint without drinking or else he would have the 'shakes'.

What to do he thought? Best take time off and use the money to travel and break free from this curse of the drink. 

The sale was going slower than he expected and several times he had dropped the asking price for the property. I might as well give it away if I keeping going lower!

After a three month wait, got rid of the apartment but it was another month and a half before the money was in the bank.

Pierre retraced in reverse the steps he took when he returned to Paris years earlier. 

In Thailand he spent it up in the mountains and tried with all his might not to drink. He succeeded until he got to Bangkok and the other touristy party islands. 

It was a bad idea and he moved on. Malaysia should be less troublesome than Thailand and so it was. He had also started to take the tablets that made him violently sick if he drank alcohol. Actually that started to make a difference. 

Just the thought of taking the tablets was enough to keep him off the bottle. The battle started to turn in his favour. 

He stayed in Penang for several months and decided he would paint some of the rural scenes as part of a project to capture rural life in Asia before it totally disappears. 

Meanwhile, George turned up at the fertility clinic. This time around it did not require that olive be around. It lasted no more than an hour and he submitted his sample, which was immediately cryogenically frozen. 

George had spoken to his best friend and long time business colleague. At first his friend felt it a big honour that George had, off all people asked him, to father his child, if need be. 

But when he told his wife. She was against it, totally. 

'Its not like I am sleeping with his wife.." he had tried to explain to his wife

His wife had said just imagine he has a daughter and that daughter falls in love with our son? What madness is that?

"No it would not happen that way. We won't allow it.." he responded

" So you can also see it the future...away with you. It won't happen.." she persisted.

The real reason of her objection was Olive. From the moment she first met her, they just seemed to dislike each other. Maybe it all started when her husband joked with her and said...' oh my goodness you should see George's new wife...what a beauty.. I am sure he she should be in Hollywood not on our streets...he better keep a close eye on her' he said as he laughed. 

His wife had never found it funny because as it turned out, she was as stunning as her husband had intimated. So a sense of jealousy was never too far. And Olive's composure had always been taken to me she was aloof and looked down on others.

"So, you  won't do it? " George asked his friend. 

"Man, you know if my wife knew I went against her wishes...I would be in deep trouble. Besides she has a point. Our children would grow up close and that could present challenges.."

George looked straight ahead and appeared to contemplate and think things over. 

They sat in the smoking lounge of one of the hotels they used to enjoy coming to. It was members only and clientele tended to be mainly rich older men. George and his friend were different. They came here knowing inspite their relative youth, they could pick up valuable business intelligence and how to do things. These older men were not rich by chance, they knew how to get things done and how to do them. Why not learn from them?

Olive had been told to keep track of her ovulation cycle. Apprehensive but excited that at last she might carry a child for George. She had not been told about option two as per George's wish. Whatever, any child she carried would be George's. 

But something troubled her: the dreams of Pierre giving her a child did not abate. She always woke up startled or shouting no no! 

Pierre had not felt this good in years. From Malaysia he had headed over to Vietnam and by that time had decided it was not in his interests to eat meat and by degrees had become more or less vegetarian. It helped that he was in the part of the world where the cuisine was natural and tasty especially without the meat. 

He drank less and less. His skin improved and the whiteness to his eyes returned. The jaundiced liver finally getting respite from the years of intoxication. 

In Bali he realised he was on the limit with money. So he was more circumspect. Besides, the paintings he was doing, were not commissions but personal works, so they would not generate income for a while. Though he had sent some back home to France and given instruction to his agent to sell one or two, nothing had yet generated interest. 

Two weeks flat he would be out of money...Sure he could go back to Paris - his ticket was open return valid for a year. But there was one thing he needed to do. He must get closure. 

That meant seeing olive for one more time. It surprised him when he saw some women's magazines and images of olive modelling some of the latest fashions. Wow things had changed for her he thought. 

When Olive turned up at the fertility clinic for the for her last IVF treatment; in the section for sperm donors, he European man walked in and was taken to a private lounge. Tall and middle aged. Slightly rough and rugged looking but handsome all the same. The receptionist in this most private and exclusive clinic, gave him a form to fill. She explained they would need to take a urine and a blood test. He could wait for an hour or come back for the next step if his tests got the all clear..

As he went into the parking lot, he saw a car he thought he recognised..'it can't be what would it be doing here and besides it's been years and certainly she is rich enough to get a new car.' 

He thought nothing of it as he walked towards a set of shops.. He thought about the form. On the part which asked if he chose to remain anonymous or give the right for the potential child to search for him if they ever wanted to; he had agreed to be searched for. He had put his parents address as he knew that would not change. That house had been in the family for generations. So they would find him.

'Mr. Pierre' said the young nurse as she approached him with a smile.

' your tests are all clear and I will explain the process. Once you give us your sample we will freeze it and we would use it for more than one couple...oh no..I see you said on the form only for one...yes ok..' 

Pierre did what he had to do and provided his semen sample. On leaving, he gave his bank details to the receptionist, who said his money will be in his account the next morning. 

Pierre had become desparate for money. He had been told as a educated and good looking European he could 'donate' his semen to help infertile couples. Being European was a premium, as some families, where to an extent part European given the colonial past. So some families wanted to keep this going. For others, rich enough, it was a desire to better themselves by having children with paler skins as the concept of beauty was to a large part determined by the 'fairness' of the skin. The rich were now choosing how the kids would look. 

Pierre was not being 'paid' this was to get over this thorny ethical issues that may arise. His 'expenses' were being covered for the time he took out to do this. 

And Pierre tool it a step further by choosing not to remain anonymous should the child or parent want to know the real father. So fair is fair thought Peirre. 

George comforted Olive who weeks after had learnt that the IVF procedure had been unsuccessful. She was distraught, now more than anything else she wanted to be a mother. 

George was adamant that they try again.

"What if he doesn't work? What will we do George?" She cried.

' it will work. It has to work. We have tried hard enough. It must work.' he confidently stated. 

In a month we will return and try again. I have spoken to the doctor and it is decided. 

George already knew what he would do...

To be contacted.

Sent from Yahoo Mail on Android

a two part play

Marina,

Now you sleep. 

I wonder what you dream?

So here goes:

This is a play in three parts with two scenes:

Synopsis of the play: 

A young lady from south Asia meets a young guy from Europe online. They form a deep friendship and a bond which appears to be love. 

They cannot meet in the girl's country because of some restrictions. But they must meet as their desire to see each other grows too strong. 

They meet on a tropical island in the middle of Indian ocean. Both must fly from their respective countries to this place. 

The play is two scenes and three parts.

Scene one : in the hotel room part one

Scene two : hotel restaurant part one

Scene one : hotel room part two

Scene One. 

Part one:

The scene opens in the hotel room after the two arrive from their long flights and the drive from the airport. There is the porter, the young lady M* and the young  man D*

 Porter: will that be all?

D* : Yes. Thank you very much for your help with carrying our bags. Let me check my pockets for some lose change. 

( at this point D pulls out several dollars and gives them hotel porter).

Porter: ah thank you sir, thank.

The porter walks out and closes the hotel door. Leaving M and D. 

The are two beds in the room as it is a twin room. M sits on the bed and tries it out to see how soft it is. She walks around the room and looks into the bathroom. 

D closely follows, so he too can get a better look.

D: this is a very beautiful room and the beds are nice and bouncy

M: (laughing) Bouncy?

D: I meant to say nice and soft ( he too laughs)

M: look at the sea from this side? It's amazing. Wow how beautiful. Come see.

D walks across to look through the glass doors that open to a small patio. The sea is calm and a bluish greenish colour. A cool evening breeze is starting to blow.

Now standing slightly behind M, almost next to her, D observes the dazzling view. The white sands interspersed with palm trees. Several boats on the horizon bobbing up and down. 

M: it's beautiful isn't it...look..look over there!

( she points out a huge Cruise ship liner sailing in the distance)

M is wearing a pair of sketchers trainers, a tight fitting pair of blue denim jeans. She has a beautifully tailored loose fitting blouse and some costume necklace. 

She has taken a headscarf off to reveal long dark hair and a pair of gold stud earings. 

She smells almost edible.

D: You smell really nice. What is that you are Wearing? 

( she turns to him and they are looking almost eye to eye)

M: I am wearing flowers perfume by Kenzo. But what you have on...oh my goodness..it is so sweet...? What is it? Gucci? Prada?

D: its Creed Virgin Island Water. You like it? I thought you wouldn't notice.

She is smiling, nervous as they are standing next to each other. She is lightly made up. Her lips are with a dark pink lipstick with gloss over it. She looks at D and he has the courage to hold both her hands and pull her towards him. M's heart is beating fast, she is blushing

D: M so finally we meet. I promised you I would hold you in my arms and hug and squeeze you tight. 

M: I was waiting for it. You are as wonderful as I thought you would be. 

M is now tightly in D's arms. They hug and squeeze each other tighter. And walk back into the room hand in hands

i was burnt by the sun

Chapter 1

Aida could not bear the noise any longer.

It kept gnawing at her brain, the constant metal to metal grinding noise as the train made its way through the numerous villages, with rice paddies and mountains lush with greenery. 

It was not really the noise of the train that got to her. It was her own thoughts assaulting her. 

She did not want to think about it all; her life had taken on a journey that she seemed no longer in control of...it hurt and she just wanted the pain to go away.

In front of her, on her lap, she carried her baby. Sara, no more than 10 months old, was the mirror image of her mother. Even at that age, when babies look like whoever you say they look like, you could not deny the striking resemblance to her mother. 

Her skin tone was dark, as was her mother. Her mother had always been called the dark one or teased by the other children calling her darky. 

Aida had the most striking eyes of a very soft greenish brown hue. 

They were bright eyes, kind eyes but they had already seen too much for a 23 year old girl. Now her daughter Sara possessed the same eyes...Her mother wondered what future lay in front of them? What would become of them as the train moved closer to the coastal town. Aida wondered if she was making the right choice... But what choice did she have after all?

It had been a hard life; what else could it take from her she had wondered out aloud?

Chapter 2 : My name is Aida

The third of five children. It would have been easy to forget me. But life would not let me be. 

I was dark and my brothers and sisters fair. This meant one thing; my life would be hard.

You see being fair, in my village, in my country means your are beautiful. It seems God had chosen to add an extra little darkness to my skin.

The story goes two generations or more, a ship had appeared on the horizon and made shore. 

These men, strange and dark in appearance had brought a new religion to us and trade in goods we had never seen. 

Though they these strange men stayed and made trade of goods that they had brought. They brought, so the legend goes, sweet smelling fragrances from the bark of trees, spices which our islands knew nothing about and many such things. 

At first they only stayed in the coastal areas.

Soon that changed and they went deeper into the interior of the country, seeking what they would to take on their journey on the sea. 

They came upon our village. Fear and wonder at seeing these dark mean with strange clothes. They had, by that time learned a little of the language. 

These men spoke the Arabic tongue and we spoke a dialect of bahasi. 

For several pieces of silver, they had hired a servant, to assist them it all their affairs and to act as a translator and go between.

The village elders and every man, woman and child were called to the chief of the village elder's house. 

'What is this?' The people had wondered? Afraid that there might be a war a battle looming. The women looked at their young men and mother's thought of their sons. 

But no we have been in peace for 100s of years, what could this be?

"People of Aceh, we come in peace. We bring you two things. Religion and trade" 

We mean no harm and our intentions are not evil to you. 

Yes it has been spoken that we trade people and sell them as slaves! But we are not here that with you. 

A land to the west of you, with a very dark and ignorant but physically strong people is where we get our slaves.

You are different people and we come to trade and to share our culture. 

We will stay only a few days, if you will let us, bring what you will and we can bargain."

So the legend continues that they stayed a few days, one of their group fell in love with a village girl and choice not to continue. 

He made his life here in our village. His name was Abdul Salem. 

His children we a mixture of fairness and dark skin tones. He was a wise man and shred. He knew business and brought much wealth. Many lands with rice paddies, forests with rubber trees and strong teak wood, pepper Fields, he had it all. 

So it was never a problem to marry his daughters off because they were the daughters of a rich man. 

Over time the dark colours were lost as the generations went by and as the descends married the indigenous people. Also, the wealth that Abdul Salem had amassed disappeared as his children's children didn't have his skills for trade. 

But another interesting thing was once in a while, as it is with nature, it would remind people of their ancestors. So once in a while, a dark one, born to fair parents would appear. And I was that dark one, a reminder of Abdul Salem. But Abdul Salem did not add their he continued to my daughter...

Chapter 3 : Aida grows

Now that you know how I got my darkness, I must let you know my life. The older I got the more the chores fell upon me. 

My mother had determined I was fit for another but a servant girl or maid and she thought the faster I learnt the better. 

I had an older sister and brother, they were kind to me but distant, they barely spoke to me when we were growing up. Closest to me was my beautiful young brother who was born a year after me. 

We played together and went school together. It was not until five years later that our little sister and the final child was born. 

My brother and I went to the mountains together, we both learnt to catch animals in the wild and to fish together. 

Even when he started to have his friends, our bond could not be broken. 

Among his friends, I was the only girl. Anything they did, I could do. 

If they fought, I fought. If they climbed trees, I climbed higher. If their set traps for birds, mine caught the most. 

Though my mother constantly had me doing the chores, fetch the water from the well, attend to the rice paddies, Cook, clean look after your little sister. I found ways to work faster or simple slipped out unnoticed so that I could spend time with the boys..

At 12 I noticed things starting to change in me. I was less skinny, but I noticed curves to my body which had not been there. Most noticeable was my breasts: they were not small anymore. I felt shy and could not change in front of my brothers anymore. I felt sensitive and irritable but I didn't know why. Then it happened, that which women call,' the time of the month'  I was filled with horror and cried. 

I remember my mother sat me down in her little house, and explained all it meant and what I should do each time it happened. I was surprised at how calm and caring my mother was at that time and may be the only time she showed me affection. 

Because most of the time she appeared angry with me. ..

Chapter 4: Aida is 13 and married

To be continue...

Take me back

I can't breathe... Please get your hands off from around my neck!

Please why are you doing this? I cried out aloud

His face was an  inch from mine. His usually kind blue eyes, had turned to a steely cold and angry grey. 

He was angry, no he was mad with rage. Red was the colour of his face, his blonde hair gelled back stayed in place, not a single strand moved out of place in this man's rage. 

Again I appealed to him to calm down;

'Kevin? Please what is the matter? Can't we talk about this? '

"Listen you little little b**h, just shut the hell up!

Just the sound of your voice is enough for me to choke the life out of you. ..

I should have kicked your little Asian ass all the way back to where you came from when I had the chance.

Now look at the mess you have gotten me into...arghhh'

Without warning he landed a punch that hit my temple and sent me flying half away across the room, along the way I crushed through a table and some chairs and landed awkwardly on the floor but painfully all the same. I did not lose consciousness but I was hazy. I did not try to get up. More than the pain was the humiliation of my dress coming over my face and leaving almost naked. Even though I had slept with this man before, I felt strangely embarrassed at him seeing my near naked body and lace lingerie.

He stood there, I can only guess shocked by his own actions or by the force of the punch; I could not tell which.. 

His hands went into his hair...breaking the neatness of that gelled hair! 

He staggered backwards! 

"I'm finished! I am done for!

Chapter two

On the floor as I gather my scattered wits.. I am trying to think hard why I am on the floor and why my throat and my temple hurt so much!

I recall the childhood fights I had with my brother and I could fight and my brother and I usually fought to a standstill. 

I am Asian, diminutive in stature, 5'4" and my brother was barely 5'8". 

This American was a giant in comparison: 6'5" and built like a road train. It was clear that he had played a lot of sports in his younger days. So what chance did I have with him?

You see Kevin was my immediate supervisor, the head of R&D  in our automative energy solutions engineering organisation. 

Not only was he my immediate boss, but one time lover. 

I had worshipped the ground this man walked. I found his intense blue eyes and strawberry blonde hair ( with occasionally streaks of grey) and boyish face very charming. But what I loved the most was his quick thinking brain and intuitive ways he solved even the most complex of problems.. 

Now that I was his problem... How was he going to solve me???

My name is Zaria, I was born in West central java in a village called Banten. My rise to senior in charge of software, programming and logic controls was not easy. I was only 26 and consider, Kevin my boss, was close on to 43. 

My journey from humble beginnings in west Java to high tech, high rising skyscraper in New York had not been easy to say the least. 

Some of my colleagues even suggested I slept my way to the top.

I understood this well enough; I an Asian immigrant woman, young and very attractive, if you believe what most men said to me, should not be in this office. In fact in this field and running a department with at least 30 guys reporting to me. 

I could see where the rumours would start, they just could not see how my hard work had put me on a much faster track to success than them. 

It was easier for them to gossip and say I f**k my bosses brains out... Until given promotions..

Well they can say what they want...as I know the lights usually never went out of my office and our biggest innovations came from one of my breakthroughs.

Chapter 3 : why I am on the floor

Kevin, having let the red mist descend, calmed and spoke to me while facing away..

"Why did you have to give the dossier to Marc Rich?

You and I could have been very wealthy individuals if you had listened to me...why Zaria? I thought you, you of all people loved me...why?

You didn't have to start this. In the first place when you made the discovery of the rogue code...you should have come to me first?"

I had not noticed he was in tears, his hands on his head..

'Now with any luck, the least I can expect is 15 years in jail and the most 25!" 

All because of your stupid meddling!!!'

You as a woman. A stupid woman should be in the kitchen... Or having babies.. 

No you should not even have this job. You should be a maid...for my wife and I. A nanny. A nanny! 

His voice rising and his anger returning.. 

I have been screwed by a Nanny.. A stupid Asian Nanny... "

I said:

" I was only doing my job as I was paid to...

I never once thought you would try sabotage our own work our own invention so that you could enrich yourself and betray others who had put so much hard work an effort into making this a success"

I don't think he hard my last words because he had picked up a chair and thrown it straight towards me I covered my head and a crashed on top of me bruising my fore arms. 

He ran towards me and aimed a kick at me. I screamed as I saw blood flowing from my face. Another blow landed on my rib cage.  

"Argh you stupid b**h I will kill you if it is the last thing I will do!" 

The punches started to rain on me.

On the 12 floor, it is late at night and there is no one about.. And I think this truly is the end of me.. 

"Please someone help me! ' 

It was a whisper.. That is all I could manage.

Just then.. Kevin is pulled off me and as he tries to attack me again... Is given a solid punch that sends him crushing to the floor. He doesn't even get up...

"Zaria? Zaria? Are you okay.. 

Say something... Don't sleep keep your eyes open don't worry I will call for help"

'Please don't leave me please don't leave me'

I cry...

"Don't worry Zaria I have taken care of that pig..he is not going to get up any time soon and besides I will call the police after I have gotten you an ambulance! It will be alright!"

Chapter 4:

I wake up in the hospital, and I wonder how I got there? 

I am in pain. My right arm and shoulder is in a cast. My jaw feels as though it has been wired shut, and it has. I feel pain all over.. I can barely speak. 

I start to cry and cry...my thoughts imagine this must be a nightmare.. How can this be?

I never thought my life would come to this??

I only worked hard to get to wherever I wanted to go..no one gave me anything.

No one helped.  

Alone I climbed the mountains.

My God why?

I am heavily sedated a fall back to sleep.. The pain.. The ringing in my ear, the blurred vision.  

I endured for weeks. 

The time passed. Slowly. The flowers never got old the fruits we always fresh even though I didn't eat the fruit. I could not. My jaw was barely opening. 

Initially I was drip fed and then moved to a liquid diet. 

The routine was the same: in the morning Dr. Habib came in to see me with usually one trainee doctor, the nurse in charge and a support worker.

Every day same question: Zaria how are you my dear..

You are improving, the swelling on your face has gone down and the arm looks to be improving.. Our only concern at the moment is the fluid around your lunge.. We may need to drain it before it causes a problem..

How is the pain..? 

I could not respond and how did he expect me to answer..

And he would end by saying;

"What beautiful flowers... What a lucky girl..who is this admirer of yours???"

And off he went.

I started to notice the flowers and the fruits. 

Who? Why? And almost always the same..

Two weeks had passed, so I was told. I was visited by my work colleagues, but I must not have been aware because of the sedatives and pain medicines. 

The police had come twice to explain the process of what would happen next. 

I was not well enough so they could not take a statement. 

I had no next of kin, no relatives in America and finally they had managed to contact my mother. 

How? I will never know.

My mother had never flown in an aeroplane and my company and the police would work with the state department to ensure she got the visa to come over fast. 

So I was alone..well so I thought? 

But the flowers...

Chapter 5

The nurse Lucy the Irish American would always check into my side room and smell the flowers and one time I beckoned her over and pointed out the flowers as to ask 'from who?'

She smile....she knew that in my mind I was puzzled by this and it was beginning to bother me.  Each morning there the flowers stood when I woke up..

"Zaria, I don't expect you to remember so soon. But the guy who rescued you from the man who was trying to harm you??

Well they are from him...He works the night shift and on his break late at night he passes by and asks us to give them to you..he always asks how you are doing..everyday he has not stopped!"

Yes! For a moment I tried to picture his face. Surprisingly it was not a struggle.

He was the security guard to our office building... I never thought much of him. 

But not him...He tried always to engage me conversation. He would smile at me.

 'Good morning Zaria.'

Good morning Zaria you look beautiful today! That colour suits you..

One time he asked me where I was from and I recall being really cold to him and telling him it had nothing to do with him where I came from..

"Excuse me Joe or Joseph whatever people call you. I think you are getting over familiar with me. I am division head. So show me that respect. Never in a month of Sundays will I ever go on date with you. Besides I am not into black guys anyway. I would prefer it if you called me miss Zaria Nabila or Miss Zaria. Thank you'

From that time on he kept a respectful distance. I saw that it dented his happiness. 

Always good morning ma'am. Nothing more. 

I was with Kevin at that time and nothing really mattered more than him... I could not care less about an African American security guard who liked me. 

Why should I lower my standards and be with a poorly educated American.? This is what I thought then..

Now I looked at the flowers and cried...

Another why? 

The man I had treated in the most horrible way became the man who saved my life and now the only one who cared what happens to me in this great city..

I felt alone. 

I was alone and was lonely. My health made me see this..in crisis I was faced with this.

I was beautiful...but alone

I was intelligent.. But alone

I had power and wealth... But alone

But Joseph who had meant nothing to me...

But just Joseph? Who was he ? What does he want from me?

But Joseph! I needed to see him to speak to him..to hold his hand and feel his heart..

Joseph..

Chapter 6