Free Black Jasmine (2012) by Toby Neal Page B

Gallery sent a message of upscale elegance, beginning with the pneumatic sliding glass door that ushered them into air-conditioned comfort seasoned with classical music.
    Creamy white walls, white marble floors, and well-designed lighting highlighted a range of dramatic artwork. Lei circled around a sculpture inside a block of Lucite that appealed to her, an angel that appeared to float in three dimensions.
    A statuesque blond saleswoman in a white Grecian-style dress approached as Lei dragged Pono over to look at the Lucite blocks. “Oh, honey! How do they do that?”
    “It’s done with lasers,” the saleswoman said. “Each one is signed and numbered.”
    Lighting from below made the angel glow, and Lei suddenly remembered one much like it, wings outstretched, that she’d had as a night-light when she was a child. That angel night-light had failed her. It had smiled a plastic smile as Charlie Kwon came into her room. Her eyes were on it as she begged him to stop, and as she gave up and waited for him to be done with her, his little “damaged goods,” the angel watched, and smiled, and did nothing.
    Lei felt her chest tighten, her throat close. Her vision telescoped, black encircling the edges, as she focused on the floating angel. Her hand crept down to her side, and she pinched her leg viciously through her pants. Sucking relaxation breaths, she grabbed Pono’s big hand. She towed him into the main gallery area. Another Grecian-gowned saleswoman, a redhead this time, watched them from the back of the room. Lei hated it when memories ambushed her like this; she almost preferred the fog of memory loss she’d struggled with years ago.
    “This is so beautiful,” Lei said breathlessly, the dark around her vision retreating in front of a stretch of canvas crammed with every fantastical ocean creature that could be imagined. She turned back to the saleswoman who had followed them. “We’re on our honeymoon. We want something to remember it by.”
    “Fabulous,” the blonde said, sizing them up. “I have some lovely giclee prints over here.” She led them toward the back of the gallery, Lei taking everything in. Pono suddenly dug his heels in and turned to Lei.
    “Let’s get the manager out here,” he whispered. Before she had time to respond, he commented loudly.
    “Nothing too good for you, baby,” he boomed in pidgin. “I goin’ buy you anyting you like.” He raised his voice after the saleswoman. “You stay showing us these kine because you don’t think we can afford one real painting?”
    “Oh, no, I just thought…something modest…” The saleswoman sputtered. “Young couple, starting out—”
    “So what you mean is, local people can’t buy art here? This one haole -only kine place?” Pono’s voice had begun to climb.
    Lei put her hand on his arm. “Now, baby, no make one scene. I’m sure the lady only meant fo’ be helpful…”
    She glanced up. In the corner were surveillance cameras. Pono continued to agitate. She could tell he was enjoying this on one level and venting some long-simmering frustration on another.
    “This land was our land, stolen from us; now we can’t afford to even own our home here. You insult me! I like speak to your manager. No, your owner! I like look ’em in the eye, the person who wen’ take my land from me!”
    A few minutes more of that and the saleswoman fled through a door at the back. The redhead was already gone. A few minutes later, another woman entered, the blonde following. She was tall, with shimmering black hair that contrasted with a cream-colored pantsuit. Dark blue eyes took in the scene. Weighed them up—and found them wanting.
    “Jillian, get these newlyweds some champagne.” Jillian hurried away.
    Pono drew himself up to his not-inconsiderable height and breathed through his wide nose, thick arms crossed on his chest. “Your girl, she one racist.”
    “My apologies. My saleswoman knows better than to profile our guests; I’ll see to