chapter five

I was lying on the uncomfortable bed with that satin robe on. Wished the robe was pink with some embroidery. Ken was lying on the bed beside me.

I was still figuring out what does a ‘full package’ mean. The term sounded spooky and creepy.

“Darl, I just want to tell you if anything happens to me, please give all my high heels to my sister. Her name is Claire and she lives in Las Vegas, near Venetian. Please water my cactus at the balcony.” I said to Ken.

“What are you talking about honey? Are you okay? What is in your head?” He was curious.

“Nothing. I was kidding. What are we waiting for Ken?” I laughed. I did not want to tell him I was going to die. If it was to happen, he had an idea what to do.

“Mr. Chung. He is still with one of the customers.” He said firmly.

He must be a good practitioner, I thought. I would be in good hands. This is just an experience and I am sure I can do this, you can do this Mallory.

Wait, no I can’t! Suddenly, a man came in. I was so nervous and it was even more nerve-wrecking than waiting for the door of the store (during sales) to open.

“Mallory, meet Mr. Chung.” Ken said.

I sat on the bed nervously and my heart just stopped beating. A man was sitting on a wheelchair, his hands were holding different sizes of needles, his hands were trembling like a leaf, he was as skinny as Nicole Richie and he was wearing big sunglasses in the dark room just like Nicole. I had a quick glance in the room. There was only one person other than Ken and I. Oh My God, that man was Mr. Chung. My jaw dropped as if I have a dumbbell in my mouth. 

“Hi Mr. Chung.” I smiled, I offered my hands to shake. Truly professional.

“Honey, he is blind.” Ken whispered.

“What the…” I stopped. Now, I looked like the cast in Ju-On.

 I was not sure to let an old man who was older than my grandmother, his hands trembled like a Parkinson patient to stick a stack of needles on my body. What if he made a mistake and stuck them up in my fucking vagina? I would never conceive after the incident.

Is Ken making a practical joke here or is this really happening? My feet were shaking and I prayed to God I would not embarrass myself. I lied on the bed, my face to the ceiling, my hands clenched in fear.

“I am going to rub some oil on your face to lubricate your skin and open up your pores.” An Asian girl said.

I nodded hesitantly. She rubbed the oil which smelled like rotten eggs. A minute after she massaged my face, fingers perched on my face. I was positive it was Mr. Chung. I could feel the wrinkles against my flawless face and the fingers were shaking. I promised to myself I would not shout no matter how painful it would be.

“Lady, I am going to start with your forehead. Please relax a bit and no frowning. It will be difficult for me.” The blind man said.

I did not say a word. I was terrified. I was thinking I could compromise donating my Louis scarf and a Miu Miu clutch to homeless than doing this treatment.

I could feel there was a needle on my forehead. Mr. Chung was locating the right spot. My brain was going to ooze out just like the Niagara. He found the spot and carefully located the needle. I could feel it penetrated my pore. I panicked. I ran out of breath.

Pitch black.