Nicholas needed a cleaning lady. He knew it. He didn't like cleaning and he wasn't very good at it. Even if he could drag himself into actually doing any cleaning, he knew it wouldn't be done very well. So he decided to pay someone else to do it for him.
He perused the message board at the local grocery store and found exactly what he needed, or so he thought. It was a simple advertisement, printed on standard printer paper and written in English, although the grammar and diction hinted that the person who wrote it wasn't comfortable writing in English. There were a number of tear-away strips on the bottom of the ad, each with the number to call. Nicholas grabbed one and shoved it into his shirt pocket.
By the time he got home and put his groceries away he had forgotten all about the telephone number in his pocket. He found it three days later as he was throwing his laundry together and had no idea what it was. He puzzled over it for a few minutes and tossed it onto his night table.
The following weekend he went once more to the grocery store. He saw the message board in the lobby of the store in the corner of his eye and then he remembered the phone number. He stepped up to the board and saw with dismay that the advertisement for the cleaning lady was no longer there. He muttered angrily to himself and then went about his business. When he got home he put his groceries away again and forgot once more about the cleaning lady.
That night he was getting changed to go out when he saw the phone number on the small strip of paper on his night table. He looked at it curiously for a moment, knowing there was something important about it. He frowned and then realization hit him. Dressed only in his boxer shorts he grabbed the strip of paper and rushed to his computer desk to retrieve a pen. He wrote "CLEANING LADY" over top of the number and set it down on the desk.
He looked at the time and saw that it was just past nine o'clock. He shrugged and grabbed his cell phone. He dialed the number and hoped that someone would answer.
When they did answer he felt a pang of irritation. The voice on the other end was speaking a language he didn't understand. He had no idea what it was, although it sounded Oriental.
"Hello?" he said hopefully, wondering if the girl who answered understood English.
She asked a question; he knew that by the inflection in her voice, but he still had no idea what she was trying to say.
"Hello," he said again, "I'm calling about the cleaning lady."
She said something else he couldn't understand and then he heard some crackling and thumping and guessed that someone else was grabbing the phone.
"Yes?" he heard another girl say.
"Yes, hello," he said with relief. "I'm calling about the cleaning lady."
"Oh yes!" she said, "very nice to hear you."
Nicholas heard her say something foreign once more.
"Yes, very nice!" she said. "My sister is cleaning lady!"
"Okay," he replied. "Is she there? Can I speak to her?"
"No," the girl said with regret. "She cannot speak English, only Chinese. I can speak for her. We come to your house and speak, yes?"
"Oh," Nicholas said, beginning to feel uncomfortable. "Okay, I guess we could do that. So, she can't speak English at all?"
"A few words only," the girl said. "But I will help her understand what you need! We can come over to your house?"
Nicholas frowned and decided that he might as well see what she's like.
"Yeah okay," he said. "You can come over tomorrow."
"No need to wait!" the girl said. "We can come over right now! Please give address and we will speak soon!"
After a moment's thought, he gave them the address and he heard the two girls talking excitedly.
"We will come very quickly!" she said as she hung up.
He dressed in casual slacks and a button-down shirt and sat down to wait for their arrival. After about thirty minutes he began to get impatient and dialed the number once more. After several rings the phone was answered, but apparently it was the girl who couldn't speak English.
He said hello a few times and then the phone was passed to the English-speaking girl.
"Hello, yes?" she said uncertainly.
"Hello," he said. "You said you were coming over?"
He heard her say something rapidly to her sister and then she was back on the phone.
"Yes, we are coming," she said pleadingly. "We are only several blocks away. We will be there very soon!"
"Are you walking?" he asked her.
"Yes, we walk very quickly," she said. "We will not take long."
He said okay and sat back, musing on the decision to meet with them tonight.
"I should have insisted on tomorrow," he said.
After another twenty minutes there was a knock on the door.
When he opened the door his breath caught in his throat. Standing in front of him were two Asian girls, both of them staring at him with wide eyes. The word "China-Doll" came to mind as soon as he saw them.
They were both small in stature, about four feet ten inches in height. Their bodies were petite and Nicholas felt that he could put both of them into his pants-pocket they were so tiny. They both had long straight black hair, which fell all the way down their backs. They looked strikingly similar, though they were not identical. It was easy to tell they were sisters. Their eyes were big and just a little farther apart than one would expect. Their noses were tiny and turned up into small button-like bumps just above their doll-like mouths. Their lips were full, or at least full compared to their small moon-like faces that contrasted deeply with their jet-black hair.
"Hello!" he said as they stared at him expectantly. "Please come in!"
They both smiled and walked through the door together. They were smiling and continued to stare at him.
"Hello," the girl on the left said. "My name is Ping and this is my sister Minh."
They both extended their hands in greeting and he felt his palms turn sweaty as he gently shook each one in turn.
