She was glad she didn't do silicon. Her breasts were small its true, but they were prettier than most. Even now at thirty eight they still looked OK.
She was dancing at a place called Maggies out beyond the city limits. It was not much more than a plywood box lined with aluminum foil. An extension cord from the house next door brought electricity. Most nights a sheriff's car parked on the road a half mile away.
If the lights went out she would be gone in a flash. It happened almost every Friday. Sometimes the one bulb got shot out. Sometimes the extension was unplugged - accidentally or on purpose.
She always parked her car by the side entrance and left her key in it. She'd be gone when the cops arrived. It was a place like a thousand others she knew and the truth was she liked it. She liked to dance for the country boys. She liked to see their hungry faces. She was an artist. But she needed a new kimono. She just had the one and it was getting worn. She'd bought it at a junk shop in Central Oregon and designed her act around it.
This night she put her Japanese CD on the player and began her routine. First so demure, so beautiful. Then she'd let her hair slip down and smear her careful lipstick and begin to loosen the kimono. A few careful moves and the kimono would slip to the floor and she was there in her G string and tassels, taunting her audience, especially the young and shy ones. She spotted a good customer in the audience, a trucker from California. He nodded as he tucked a twenty in her G string.
An Asian man seemed out of place. Too serious. Not looking at her but at the kimono crumpled on the floor. She wagged her butt at him but he didn't seem to notice.
During her break she had sex with the truck driver in his cab. They smoked some crack and talked for a while. Then he was on his way to Wenatchee.
With her coat pulled round her shoulders and a hundred dollar bill in her pocket she went back to her car to rebuild her hair and face. The Asian man was standing by her car.
``Excuse me...''
``Sir?''
``The kimono...''
``The kimono?''
``The kimono you are wearing...''
``Yes?''
``It is a treasure...''
``Yes. I love it.''
``It is a treasure. It is priceless. Irreplaceable. I am instructed to offer you two hundred thousand dollars...''
``You show me the money.''
He did.
She bought a little house in Arizona to retire to. She bought five bright new kimonos.
Years later a letter from Japan caught up with her. She was running a B and B in the California wine country by then.
The letter thanked her for returning a treasure taken in time of war so long ago.
She gave the stamp to her nephew.