So he gave her another five and went back down to the bar and had a drink.
A couple of minutes later, she came walking down the stairs and he thought that however the hell old she was, she was too young to be peddling her ass to a bunch of drunken American sailors—and worse—in a joint like the Sailor's Rest.
A bosun's mate second off the
Panay
took one look at Doto-Si and headed for her like a fucking cat about to play with a mouse.
And Brewer was drunk and he was flush, so he turned off his barstool and told the bosun's mate second he was too late, he wanted that one for himself.
He looked around for Kan-Chee, who wore Western suits and talked pretty good English, even to old hands like Brewer who spoke pretty good Wu, and waved him over.
«You liked that little Mongolian, huh, Chief?»
«Yeah. How much will you take for her?»
«You going in business, Chief? Maybe be my competition?»
«Fuck you. You want to sell her or not?»
«I sell anything for right price. How much you willing to pay?»
«How much, goddamn you!»
«You a friend. A good customer. I treat you right. I paid two hundred Americanfor her. i buy her clothes. teach her what she has to do. I got at least three hundred American in her, maybe foiur hundred. I sell her to you for five hundred, and I buy her back in a month, if she still look good, not sick, not pregnant, for four hundred.»
Now Brewer was sore, as well as more than a little drunk and flush with cash. Kan-Chee was playing games with him. He didn't think Brewer could come up with five hundred American. Fuck him!
«I'll give you four hundred for her. Take it or leave it.»
«After one month, you want me to buy her back, I give you three hundred. American.»
Kan-Chee, the bastard, had been more than a little surprised when Brewer reached in his money belt and counted out four hundred dollars American, but a deal was a deal.
So he took Doto-Si back upstairs and told her what the deal was. In the morning, he would give her some more money and she could go back where she came from, to her village in Mongolia, and she didn't have to be a whore anymore; he had taken care of her debt to Kan-Chee.
«If I go back to my village, my uncle just sell me again.»
«Your uncle? What about youir father?»
«Father dead. Mother dead. Uncle no want to feed me. He just sell me again.»
He was really drunk by then, and understood that he wasn't going to make any smart decisions that night, so he said, «Fuck it, we'll talk about it in the morning.»
And then he passed out.
When he woke up in the monning, he was naked in the bed, and alone, and remembered what a stupid fucking thing he had done the night before. He saw his jacket and pants hanging on the one hanger in the closet, but no money belt.
He had really fucked up big time, gotten shitfaced, screwed a little girl, and given Kan-Chee a lot of his money. And now what he hadn't given Kan-Chee, the little Mongolian whore had stolen.
Served him fucking right.
And then Doto-Si came into the: room, carrying a pot of tea, a plate of egg rolls, and even a little packet of aspirin.
She sat on the bed and poured him a cup of tea and opened the packet of aspirin and handed him two.
He took the aspirin and drank the tea and ate all the egg rolls—he was starving; he hadn't eaten anything yesterday after coming ashore, which explained why he had gotten so shitfaced. And then he looked at her.
«Where's my money belt?»
She unbuttoned her dress and took it off, and stood naked in front of him. She had his money belt hanging from her shoulder. She took it off and handed it to him.
«Lots of money,» Doto-Si said. «I afraid to leave it in room with you asleep. Somebody steal.»
He took the money belt and unzipped it. There was a hell of a lot of money in it. Even if the girl had stolen some, there was a hell of a lot left. He really must have made a killing at the Peking Palace.
And she had the chance to steal all of it, and didn't!
«Thank you,» he said, and then had a generous thought. He took out a twenty, and then a second twenty, and then a third, and handed them to her.
«Thank you,» he repeated.
«For twenty dollar American, I can get nice room, with real bed, and sink and toilet,» Doto-Si said.
«Is that what you want to do? How will you live?»
«I cook for you, and wash clothes, be your woman. You give twenty dollars a month for food?»
«I'm old enough to be your fucking father!»
«My father dead,» Doto-Si said.
Brewer said what he was thinking: «I eat aboard the
Panay
. The wash boys do my clothes.»
«You can fuck wash boys?»
«Jesus Christ!»
«I like to fuck with you,» Doto-Si said. «I be good to you.»
«Don't say 'fuck,' « he said.
«What I should say?»
«Just don't say 'fuck.' «
«You sleep. I come back in two hours. Okay?»
He didn't reply.
«You better put money belt and pants on,» she said.
«This isn't going to work,» he thought aloud. «Christ, I don't want a Chinese woman!»
«I be good to you. We try it, okay?»
When he didn't say no, she picked up her dress and put it on and started to leave.
«Hey!» he said, as she reached the door. She turned to look at him. «What's your name?»
«Doto-Si,» she said.
She came back in two hours. He had tried to sleep, but couldn't.
She sat on the bed. «I find two rooms. Living room, bedroom, and toilet. For twenty-five dollar American. Too much money?»
«Let's have a look,» he said.
«Okay,» Doto-Si said.
They continued to look at each other for a long moment, and then he put his fingers to her cheek. «You're so young,» he said.
«I old enough for you,» she said firmly, and then she took his hand and pulled him to his feet.
As they walked through the Sailor's Rest bar to the street, Brewer decided it was really a depressing place. And when he saw Kan-Chee smirking at him and Doto-Si knowingly, he decided he would never come in this fucking joint again, and he never did.
They had one child, a boy, and another was on the way when Chief Brewer transferred off the
Panay
into the Fleet Reserve and opened the Fouled Anchor. A week after he went ashore from the
Panay
for the last time, Brewer and Doto-Si were married by a minister from the Christian & Missionary Alliance.
Even though Doto-Si thought that was sort of comical, he was uncomfortable about being the proprietor of a whorehouse. The only time he went upstairs was when something—a light fixture, a water pipe, something like that—needed fixing, and he had nothing to do with the girls.
Nobody ever got rolled in the Fouled Anchor, or got the clap or anything worse. A lot of people who came to the bar and restaurant never went upstairs, and the girls didn't come downstairs to the bar looking for customers. Doto-Si handled that side of the business upstairs, where there was a parlor.