humorless Maik-lings

Once again, she initiated the conversation, with a courtesy.

“Good morning, Mr. Zhu.”  As she stood respectfully before me I noticed that one of her cold-stiffened nipples was marked with what looked like ketchup.  With so many American visitors the crudities of the American diet here are an unavoidable presence.  She also smelled vaguely of stale hamburger.

“I just have a few more questions. . . Do you take out the garbage every day?”

“Yes.  Also I sweep the floors at night, and close the skylight.”

“How do you do that?”

“I climb up the ropes.  There is a ladder near the top.  I turn a winch which closes it.”

“Have you ever been hurt by one of those . . . demonstrations?”

"Of course not.  Nothing can hurt us Maik-lings.  Though sometimes it is uncomfortable.”  This must have been an understatement.  I remembered her nipples being twisted and her cries of what must have been pain.

“What do you think about, when you are stretched out in those ropes?”

“Mostly school things.  When you first saw me I was conjugating French verbs.”

Though her face was smudged and dirty I must note that Zhenzhen is stunningly beautiful.  All the Maik-lings are pretty but this one is mesmerizing.

Again I asked, “Does being so exposed ever bother you?”, hoping to get a different answer this time.

Alas, no.  “I am a Maik-ling.  Maik-lings do not wear clothes.”  She thought for a second and elaborated.  “We do not need clothes.  Or shoes.”  I have to admit, this appears to be a true statement.

“Did you talk to the American girl you replaced?”  Uniquely among the Maik-lings, Zhenzhen had been yanked from school early for this purpose.  This two-week stint was her second.

“We met once, when I was first brought into the Hall, but we couldn’t talk.  She was onstage giving an orgasm and we spoke only with our eyes.”  (Maik-lings never speak of “having” an orgasm; it’s always “giving” an orgasm, to the cause of the People.)  In a concession to the cold, she hugged herself.

I longed to take off my coat and drape it over her delicate shoulders but she would have been much insulted.  “Do you Maik-lings share your . . . impressions about this summer’s assignments?”

She looked down at her grimy, freezing feet, as if wondering if she should answer.  Then she looked up at me, the rising sun shining in her eyes, and said, “We talk at home on weekends.”

I decided to chance it.  “Have you met the Maik-ya?”

“No.  Only Chyou has.  We’ve heard of him though.”

“What did she say?”

“He’s a nice boy.  Shy.  He’s invited to our place anytime.”

“I understand he’s very busy.”

“Yes.”  Again, she looked down.  Then she said, “If he visits us we will let him rest.”  This in fact is a widely shared sentiment.

“I understand he’s a very good cook.”

For a moment I thought she was going to smile.  But she didn’t.  Maik-lings are disturbingly humorless.  I wondered if I should pry further but decided against it.  She would say as much as she thought she was allowed to. After rubbing her arms again, she finally gave in to shivering.  “I’ve g - got to g - go.  Have a g - good day, Mr. Zhu.”  And with that she scampered off on her tough bare feet, over sandy soil and rocks and the occasional patch of frost. With a running jump she hopped onto the loading dock and disappeared into the rear entrance.

Evaluation:  This, of course, is the assignment dedicated mostly to Gaunxi.  The Maik-lings are worthy successors to the American girl they replaced, and it is perhaps more appropriate that the center of attention be a Chinese girl. Zhenzhen knows this assignment backwards and forwards and it is recommended she again be released from school when possible.

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Saturday Morning, 8 a.m.

“Hee hee hee!!”  Zhenzhen’s giggling was uncontrollable, echoing through the clear mountain air against the rocks down in the grotto.  She tipped over from her cross-legged position on the table.  “Oh damn!!”  She wiped off the dressing that had dripped from her celery stick onto her stiff nipple.  In the process she tipped over further and to avoid falling off the table, kicked her leg out the other side.

“Hey!  Watch out!”  Zhenzhen’s bare foot had almost toppled Liena’s plate.  Liena was spread out too, one foot propped lazily on the wooden table, the other extended underneath to Jing’s knee, who was sitting opposite.  In a minor concession to the cold air, Jing shivered slightly, then continued with her breakfast, vegan except for the poached spiced eggs, savory steam rising in the cold.  Then she gulped down more of the orange juice.

“You’re really shoveling it in,” Qinyang observed.

“I have to, after those monks,” Jing said.  “They really drain me.”

“Oh -- they’re horrid!” Qinyang said, making a show of closing her legs and wrapping her arms around her breasts. She was at the head of the table, which she and Mey-yin had constructed and polished a few months ago.  “When they plow those huge -- things into me, it’s like I’m a butterfly impaled on a pin.”

“They sure know how to pull those O’s out of us, though,” Chyou said.  The girls nodded.

“They’re not really bad guys,” Jing said.  “I feel sorry for that young one though.”

“Hadji?”

“Yes, him . . . His whole life has been spent on the edge of orgasm.  And he’s never ‘come’, not once.”

“They think that’s good.”

“But -- does he think that’s good?”

“He might not know any better.”

“He’s like the opposite of the Maik-ya.”  They all nodded.

Chyou chewed her celery thoughtfully.  “The Maik-ya . . . is bigger than the monks.”

“Really?”  There was general astonishment.  Chyou, eyes wide open, slowly nodded.

“Another reason he has a rough life,” Liena said.  General agreement.

“If we ever can invite him here, we’ll let him sleep in the loft, just eat and sleep, walk around, hike on the trail, just let him be alone,” said Zhenzhen, who was back to sitting up cross-legged, drinking her juice.

There was a lull in conversation as the girls ate on the patio.  Behind them the snowy caps of the Qilian Mountains shone in the brilliant morning sunshine.  Above was deep blue sky.  It was only about seven degrees Celsius, but that does not bother Maik-lings.  Soon it would warm up.