any other setting but that reverberated here in this quiet room. I quickly stood upright, my heart pounding.
There was a rustle. Afraid to see who was stirring, I waited a few seconds, then turned and stole back upstairs to the deck. I sank into a chair facing the water and sat there, breathing quickly. What was this world I had walked into? A moment later, I heard someone approaching. Red. He was alone and ambling slowly my way. When he reached me, he put his hand on my shoulder and leaned heavily on it.
“Lie with me up here, pretty American girl. I can’t sit up. Or is it that I don’t want to sit up? Either way, I’d like to lie down, with you.”
“You can’t sit up, but you’re standing?” I asked, feeling suddenly more drunk just by looking at him, as if his intoxication were rubbing off on me.
“Am I standing?” he said, grinning. “I suppose I am. There, let’s relax over there,” he added, pointing across the deck at six lounge chairs neatly arranged with small metal tables between them.
When we were positioned, he reached for my hand and said, “Did we spook you in there, American girl?”
“No,” I lied. “I’ve just never done anything like opium. Any drugs. I don’t know that I should start.”
“That’s not what I was referring to,” he said, still holding my hand.
I didn’t answer, casting my eyes to the deck floor and slowly pulling my hand away.
Red moved his head upright, reaching for my hand again, and gestured to one of the boys in the shadows. This time, I didn’t pull it away. “Talk to me,” he said. “It almost feels like our own private boat here.”
“Shouldn’t we join the others?” I said, looking at our intertwined fingers.
“Eventually. But first we should drink these,” he said as the boy returned with two Pegu Club cocktails.
“That adult orange juice of yours,” I said, taking one with my free hand. “It follows you just about everywhere, doesn’t it?”
“More loyal than a dog, this alcohol.” He handed me a glass, and we clinked. “Or a wife.” He smiled languidly and said, “Here’s to my favorite American.” He leaned in close to me and I didn’t pull back.
“You think without an audience you’d enjoy it more?” he said.
“Enjoy…?” I asked.
“Smoking,” he said, raising his eyebrows.
“Why do you enjoy it so much?” I deflected.
“This is Indochine. Opium is part of the country’s soul. If you never look at it with smoke in your eyes, you’ll never see all of its layers.”
“Did you steal that line, too?” I asked.
“No, that one is authentic,” he said, laughing. He finished his drink in two gulps and stood up, dropping my hand. “Come on. Something tells me that Victor Lesage’s wife needs to live a little. With a face like yours, you were not meant to lurk in the shadows while the rest of us enjoy ourselves.”
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“To get smoke in your eyes, and your lungs,” he said.
We walked down the steps, Red having to hold on to the railing and the wall for support, and turned toward the cabins. I knew immediately that we were heading to his, but I didn’t stop walking.
When we were just past my cabin, a boy came to see if we needed anything and Red told him to bring him a pipe. “To my cabin,” he said, gesturing.
I held my breath and followed him into the room. It was a bit smaller than mine. I lingered in the door frame, wondering if I should sprint the other way. But I was too curious. I remembered the calm that overtook Red as soon as he’d inhaled. As scared as I was, that calm was too appealing. I had to try it.
I stepped inside, and we got comfortable, he on the bed, I not daring. A young man set the pipe up for us and handed it first to Red.
“Ladies first, I insist.” He gestured to the man.
“Very well,” I said, taking the heavy pipe in my hand and gripping it tightly.
“Jessie,” said Red, laughing. “Just relax. Try not to look as if you have a broomstick down your shirt.” He pressed down on my shoulders, the way Marcelle had when we’d first met.
“Will it make me feel—”
“It will make you feel nothing,” he cut me off. “That’s the beauty of it. Sometimes we just need to feel nothing. Especially Americans. You’re a very high-strung people.”