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"But this can't be exactly an earth-shattering discovery. Everyone must feel what I feel. They must know."
But they didn't. She looked around her. People were walking along, heads down, hurrying off to work, to school, to the employment agency, to Rue de Berne, telling themselves: "I can wait a little longer. I have a dream, but there's no need to realize it today, besides, I need to earn some money." Of course, everyone spoke ill of her profession, but, basically, it was all a question of selling her time, like everyone else. Doing things she didn't want to do, like everyone else. Putting up with horrible people, like everyone else. Handing over her precious body and her precious soul in the name of a future that never arrived, like everyone else. Saying that she still didn't have enough, like everyone else. Waiting just a little bit longer, like everyone else. Waiting so that she could earn just a little bit more, postponing the realization of her dreams; she was too busy right now, she had a great opportunity ahead of her, loyal clients who were waiting for her, who could pay between three hundred and fifty and one thousand francs a session.
And for the first time in her life, despite all the good things she could buy with the money she might earn--who knows, she might only have to work another year--she decided consciously, lucidly and deliberately to let an opportunity pass her by.
Maria waited for the light to change, she crossed the road and paused in front of the floral clock; she thought of Ralf, saw again the look of desire in his eyes on the night when she had slipped off the top half of her dress, felt his hands touching her breasts, her sex, her face, and she became wet; and as she looked at the vast column of water in the distance, without even having to touch any part of her own body, she had an orgasm right there, in front of everyone.
Not that anyone noticed; they were all far too busy.
Nyah, the only one of her work colleagues with whom she had a relationship that could be described as friendship, called her over as soon as she came in. She was sitting with an oriental gentleman, and they were both laughing.
"Look at this," she said to Maria. "Look what he wants me to do with him!"
The oriental gentleman gave a knowing look and, still smiling, opened the lid of what looked like a cigar box. Milan was watching from a distance in case it contained syringes or drugs. It did not, it was something that even he didn't know quite what to do with, but it wasn't anything very special.
"It looks like something from the last century!" said Maria.
"It is," said the oriental gentleman indignantly. "It's over a hundred years old and it cost a fortune."
What Maria saw was a series of valves, a handle, electric circuits, small metal contacts and batteries. It looked like the inside of an ancient radio, with two wires sticking out, at the ends of which were small glass rods, about the thickness of a finger. It certainly didn't look like something that had cost a fortune.
"How does it work?"
Nyah didn't like Maria's question. Although she trusted Maria, people could change from one moment to the next, and she might have her eye on her client.
"He's already explained. It's the Violet Rod."
And turning to the oriental man, she suggested that they leave, because she had decided to accept his invitation. However, the man seemed pleased that his toy should have aroused such interest.
"Around 1900, when the first batteries came onto the market, traditional medicine started experimenting with electricity to see if it could cure mental illness or hysteria. It was also used to get rid of spots and to stimulate the skin. You see these two ends? Well, they were placed here," he indicated his temples, "and the battery created the same sort of static electricity that you get in Switzerland when the air's very dry."
Static electricity was something that never happened in Brazil, but was very common in Switzerland. Maria had discovered it one day when she opened the door of a taxi; she had heard a crack and received a shock. She thought there must be something wrong with the car and had complained, saying that she wasn't going to pay the fare, and the driver had insulted her and told her she was stupid. He was right; it wasn't the car, it w
as the dry air. After receiving several more shocks, she began to be afraid of touching anything made of metal, until she discovered in a supermarket a bracelet she could wear that discharged the electricity accumulated in the body.
She turned to the man:
"But that's really nasty."
Nyah was getting more and more irritated by Maria's remarks. In order to avoid future conflicts with her only possible friend, she kept her arm around the man's shoulder, thus leaving no room for doubt as to whom he belonged.
"It depends where you put it," said the man, laughing loudly.
He turned the little handle and the two rods seemed to turn violet. He quickly placed them on the two women; there was a crack, but the shock was more ticklish than painful.
Milan came over.
"Would you mind not using that in here, please."
The man put the rods back inside the box. Nyah seized the moment and suggested that they go straight to the hotel. The man seemed rather disappointed, since the new arrival seemed far more interested in his machine than the woman who was now suggesting they go back to his hotel. He put on his jacket and stowed the box away inside a leather briefcase, saying:
"They've started making them again now; they've become quite fashionable amongst people in search of special pleasures. But you'd only find ones like this in rare medical collections, museums and antique shops."
Milan and Maria just stood there, not knowing what to say.
"Have you ever seen one before?"
"Not like that, no. It probably did cost a fortune, but then he's a top executive with an oil company.... I've seen modern ones, though."
