The Olive Grove: "The Talking Of The Soul"
09 Aug 2018Jemine Caesar
I am a bird. I fly high, catching the breeze beneath my wings, gliding on its warm, uplifting currents. I am in complete control. I soar through the air, my progress effortless, my eyes ever watchful, waiting for the moment. When the moment comes I swoop down towards my prey, skimming the ground and preparing myself to strike. My strength is in my speed.I am a tree. I stand tall and proud, my roots burrowing deep into the soil. I stretch out my branches, reaching upwards towards the skies above. I feel the gentle breeze as it whispers through my leaves. I am strong and unbending. My strength is in my patience.
I am a river. I flow unstoppable from the mountains to the sea, shaping and moulding the land as I pass by. The pebble is powerless against me, for time is on my side, and I will prevail. My strength is in my perseverance.
I am a flower. My petals are—
With a sudden sigh of exasperation, Jemine Caesar opened her eyes and frowned at the impassive face of her mentor, Suki Hai. The two women were sitting on the floor of Jemine’s apartment on Citi Gateway, their legs crossed in the lotus position.
“Suki,” she said. “Is this really necessary? I just want to learn how to fight. I really don’t see what birds and trees have got to do with it.”
“There is wisdom in nature,” replied Suki. “It is a wisdom which must be contemplated with a calm and ordered mind. Tensatsuken requires more than merely knowing how to punch and kick, how to roll and dodge. It also demands an openness of the psyche, a willingness to move beyond one's experiences and embrace a heightened sense of being.”
“Yes, all right, fair enough. But we’ve not done any actual fighting since you came back from your vacation. Shouldn’t I keep practicing the moves as well as just thinking about birds and rivers?”
Suki shook her head.
“Impatience is the enemy of victory,” she said. “If you would know victory, you must first be like the tree and know patience. When the time is right, we will return to the physical aspects of your training. But until then we concentrate on the spiritual. It is a vital part of your training, and must not be rushed. Now, begin again.”
Jemine sighed once more. Closing her eyes, she rested her hands on her ankles and took a deep, even breath for a count of five. Then:
“I am a bird...”
* * * * *
After a whole hour of meditating about being various specimens of nature, Jemine returned to her apartment mentally exhausted. Her boyfriend Sam was away on another of his tourist trips, not due to return for several more hours yet. Jemine wondered if Sam was truly happy with his lot as a glorified taxi driver. He seemed content enough ferrying paying passengers around in his Asp, the Tudor Rose. But occasionally he would reminisce about his days as a combat pilot in the Federal Navy, which made Jemine suspect that her boyfriend held a secret hankering for a more exciting life. Perhaps even a return to bounty hunting. Jemine couldn’t blame him if he was, but she fervently hoped he wouldn’t. She loved Sam with all her heart, and the thought of him placing himself at risk by chasing pirates scared her.
The next day, following a dream-filled sleep, Jemine awoke and got ready for work. She felt a great sense of pride and fulfilment in being the proprietress of Citi Gateway’s most popular pleasure house. Her reputation was widespread, helped in no small part by her recent appearance on the holo-series “The Gourmet’s Guide To The Galaxy”. The cookery show had given The Olive Grove a tremendous amount of publicity throughout the Bubble, generating a marked increase in business. As a consequence, Jemine had found herself spending more and more time in her office, dealing with a rapidly burgeoning workload of orders, invoices and contracts.
Having showered, Jemine got dressed and applied her makeup. As usual it took her a while to select an outfit from her extensive wardrobe. The role of a brothel madam – for that was essentially what she was – demanded a certain look. The Olive Grove was a high class establishment, and so Jemine took care to dress accordingly. Her work clothes were therefore elegant without being flamboyant, sophisticated but not ostentatious.
As she pondered over what to wear, she mused that the task of getting dressed in the morning used to be so simple. That was in the days before she became a spacer, back on LHS 3447 A-5. Then, her “wardrobe” had been a tattered packing case kept under her bed. Its contents were simple and few; a couple of long skirts and three or four blouses, all well-worn and patched. Her choice of shoes in those days was even simpler, for she’d only ever owned one pair at any given time. A far cry from the twenty-something pairs she now had to pick from.
She eventually opted for a close-fitting purple peplum dress, the one with the peephole cleavage that Sam liked. The dress felt a little tighter around her hips than she remembered. The more she thought about it, a lot of her dresses were beginning to feel tighter than she cared for. She scowled at her reflection in the mirror as she twisted this way and that.
"Suki's ruddy meditation sessions are giving me a big fat arse," she said with a rueful glare. Then, with the addition of a few pieces of jewellery and a pair of white Lalande twelve centimetre stiletto shoes, Jemine set off for work.
Entering The Olive Grove by the staff door as usual, Jemine made her way straight to her private office to check the new mail on her desktop display. Amongst the regular pile of business correspondence was yet another missive from the Inara League Against Prostitution. They sent at least one such rant each week, accusing The Olive Grove of being a vile and wicked den of iniquity, and demanding it be closed down immediately. There were also a few vitriolic words aimed directly at Jemine, crude terms designed to hurt. Jemine did what she always did, and tapped the ‘delete’ key.
Presently she opened a couple of documents marked for her personal attention. The first was from Suki, in her capacity as The Olive Grove’s Senior Meet-And-Greeter. Suki had offered Jemine several comments on the running of the club’s reception area, including several suggestions on more efficient ways of handling arrivals and organising the girls’ rotas.
The second document was from her Bar Manager, Cee Klover. Cee had prepared a comprehensive report on the performance of the girls’ progress in tending the bar, pointing out specific and detailed training needs and issuing praise where appropriate. The report included a selection of bar charts showing income measured against time of day, mapped against which of the girls was tending bar at the time.
Jemine smiled wryly as she read through the reports, reflecting that she’d never had a good head for business. Her very first trade run, when she was a fledgling spacer in her Sidewinder, had resulted in a loss. She’d felt more confident opening the brothel, because it was a return to a way of life she knew intimately. She’d done her best to plan everything for her pleasure house, and had spent numerous sleepless nights in the process. Her business venture had become a success, but it was hard work. Harder than she’d imagined. There were so many things to think about.
She suddenly felt swamped by it all.
“Perhaps Cee was right,” she said to herself, recalling the brash woman’s frank comments in her job interview.
“You think that because you’ve spread for creds in the past you can run a whole operation. And I think that you’ll be broke in a year.”
Jemine had been hugely indignant by the criticism at the time. She'd wanted nothing more than to do right for her girls, to give them safety and security in the galaxy's oldest profession. Now, as she sat in her plush, sweetly scented office and surrounded by responsibility, she couldn't help but wonder if she'd done the right thing by herself, too.
If only my life could be as uncomplicated as it once was...
Biting her lip, Jemine looked through the reports again. Cee and Suki had offered insights which Jemine herself hadn’t even conceived of. She’d already expressed to Sam that she sometimes felt surplus to requirements in her own establishment, that she could leave at any time and not be missed. Cee and Suki could run The Olive Grove perfectly well without her. Sam had reassured her, naturally, but still...
With a sigh, she spun round in her chair to gaze longingly at the realistic holo-landscape of her homeworld. Her eye followed a dark speck crossing the computer-generated sky. The speck turned into a bird, which swooped down to rest in the branches of a tree by the river. Nearby was a small patch of yellow flowers. The place where her daughter Bekka was born. She was still staring at the landscape, lost in her memories, when Sam and Nath walked in almost an hour later.
“Ay up, my love,” said Sam in his habitually cheery fashion. “You look a bit perplexed. Is owt the matter?”
Putting on a smile, Jemine turned to face her friends.
“I’m fine.” She caught sight of the still-open report from Cee on her desktop display, and inwardly grimaced.
“I’ve just got a lot to think about, that’s all.”