Chapter 10
Kindly please do not refer to Hyacinth’s human potential center as a crazy cult.
Yes, MiNT Wellness had had a handful of highly publicized scandals in the past decade, but what radically innovative movement
does not have its share of prejudiced doubters? And sure, among them there were clichéd allegations of blackmail and extortion,
with just a smidgen of sex slavery, but those rumors were salacious exaggerations at worst. Certainly it did not help that
several vocal ex-members were now actively suing MiNT and its charismatic leader, the mononymously named SANTI (written in
all caps, always), with charges that were still somehow mysteriously sealed to the public.
But everyone in the Sun Clan knew not to call MiNT Wellness a cult—at least not to Hyacinth’s face.
Besides, Hyacinth would argue that MiNT was not even a religion, much less a cult. Unlike the majority of her family, the
youngest Sun sister was a true Christian, with genuine conviction and devout belief in the miracles of Jesus Christ as the
teachings for her immortal soul. No, Hyacinth Sun-Bernard did not believe in hungry ghosts; she only believed in the Holy
Ghost!
MiNT was supplementary to her faith in that it provided the guardrails for her human mind, with all its many mortal faults.
As it were, she felt that she owed an insurmountable debt to SANTI and his mentorship of her.
She credited MiNT’s cutting-edge curriculum as what saved her life fifteen years ago.
This was when her rebellious teenage son Sunbern had left home a year before to pursue a consumerist life of sinful imagery as a model, and her older sisters, Roses and Iris, had been characteristically and cruelly judgmental.
Hyacinth had been in the depths of despair when a Pilates classmate mentioned how game-changing MiNT Wellness had been for her as a woman of a certain age.
“MiNT?” Hyacinth had asked, straining against the ropes binding her limbs. “What’s that?”
“Oh, it is beyond!” her classmate gushed. “It stands for Mindfully New Traditions. It’s for biological women only and it’s taught by, seriously, the guru of our times, SANTI. MiNT is extremely exclusive
but I will put in a good word. You absolutely must go!”
A week later, Hyacinth pulled into the parking lot of a nondescript and unmarked office building just off Abbott Kinney Boulevard
in Venice Beach. As she nervously entered, little did she know that her life was about to be changed forever.
Hyacinth Sun-Bernard stood in that same parking lot, remembering those fluttery trepidations she’d had that first day she
met SANTI, now her life coach and guru. Once again, she found herself nervous, but not because of anything to do with MiNT.
Her son, Sunbern, had texted her out of the blue the day before, telling her that he wanted to speak with her in person before
Roses’s Lunar New Year party in a few days.
Though their relationship had largely been improved thanks to Hyacinth’s MiNT courses, Sunbern was never the sort to ask for a formal sit-down.
A catastrophist by nature, Hyacinth clocked the timing of his message and instantly adopted the direst possibility: that her son had somehow discovered her collusion in a certain plot that she and her oldest sister Roses had hatched two years ago.
Mild-mannered Hyacinth hated confrontation, especially when she was in the wrong—indeed, other than getting pregnant with Sunbern at the way-too-young age of sixteen, this recent scheme that had resulted in her prodigal son’s cancellation was perhaps the biggest regret of her life.
Hyacinth shuddered even though it was a warm winter morning, the bright Southern Californian sun raining down upon her slim
shoulders. What she had done to Sunbern was like a dead body that had not yet decomposed, and its exhumation would surely
emit a foul stench that the two of them would never be able to escape. When her middle sister, Iris, had called her that last
Thursday, Hyacinth had been too stunned to realize that Iris was blackmailing her into colluding against Roses’s CEO position
at Sunfang Global; in a daze, Hyacinth had simply said yes to everything Iris was asking of her.
Now, true to the Sun sisters’ toxic pattern since they were little girls, Hyacinth found herself caught between her feuding
sisters: betrayed by Iris into betraying Roses. On top of that, Sunbern had reunited with that South El Monte shit show Shannon
Shoo and they were somehow famous again! It was all too much for Hyacinth. More than ever, she needed the transformative powers
of MiNT Wellness.
More than ever, she needed SANTI.
Hyacinth approached the black glass doors, pausing to inspect her dark reflection. Like her swoony son, Hyacinth was the physical
pinnacle of her generation, an otherworldly vision with big bright eyes, milky smooth skin, delicate features, and a tall
sleek frame that moved as though she was gliding. Though she had sported a stylish bob when Sunbern was young, these days
she had grown her luscious raven hair down to her waist, an embrace of her God-given femininity as encouraged by SANTI.
Satisfied, Hyacinth placed her right palm upon the biometric scanner on the wall next to the glass doors. With a beep, they slid open and the pleasant synthy beat of a Bonobo track poured out to invite her in.
From the outside, MiNT Wellness looked like a banal professional building, perhaps an accounting firm or a law office. But
inside, it was designed as a cross between a futuristic health spa and an underground VIP dance club, with bold concrete surfaces
and warm ambient lighting. Water trickled down the concrete walls into a moat that flowed toward the welcome desk as Hyacinth
approached the absolutely stunning receptionist.
“Hello, Eve,” Hyacinth said with a smile, already feeling better.
“Lovely to see you again, Eve,” the receptionist replied. She was perhaps in her early thirties and her long blond hair was
draped in front of her shoulders, shielding her otherwise bare breasts. “SANTI is expecting you. Shall we prepare you?”
Hyacinth trailed the receptionist down the hall to the right, following that same moat of water as it began to pick up speed
with the incline of their descent. They passed other women, each one more gorgeous than the last, some of them lounging on
concrete benches, others chatting in pairs, all of them wearing dark scarlet robes with the same curious gold belt. Hyacinth
knew everyone by name, and the women all acknowledged her with warm greetings.
“Hello, Eve.”
“Welcome back, Eve.”
“See you in workshop tomorrow, Eve.”
Hyacinth and the receptionist entered the changing room, a lush indoor garden lit by artificial UV sunlight. Here, the moat
culminated in a lily-padded pond, with glittering koi fish gliding under its surface.
Already laid out upon a patch of grass was Hyacinth’s own robe.
Eve the receptionist held it up as Hyacinth slipped out of her sundress; for this exact reason she always wore easily shorn clothes whenever she came to MiNT.
Once she was completely naked, sliding out of her panties and tossing them onto her small heap of clothing, the receptionist draped the scarlet robe over her shoulders.
Hyacinth reached down to secure that curious gold belt that held the robe together. The gleaming clasp was a large ring that
perfectly encircled her exposed vulva, framing it like a priceless O’Keeffe, a yonic flower blossoming to life.
This was the required uniform of MiNT Wellness, a celebration of natural womanhood.
“My dearest Eve,” a deep, sensuous voice rang out from behind the women.
“SANTI,” Hyacinth sighed as she turned, her body flooding with dopamine.
Though it was barely nine in the morning, April was late to the Malibu Farmers Market. Roses always insisted on a weekly fresh
salad made from the seasonal produce of the local market, but despite waking up way too early for someone who did not even
like vegetables, April never got there in time. By the time she arrived, the prettiest beets and the perfectly ripened avocados
had already been scavenged by the early risers, no doubt still beachy wet from surfing at the crack of dawn.
As she examined the last endive left in the basket, wondering what the slimy film on it was, April suddenly felt it: the silent
scream that lived in the pit of her stomach was creeping its way up her esophagus, encroaching upon her throat. If it made
it to her voice box, it would manifest into actual sound, into ACTUAL screaming, crowded farmers market be damned.
Panicking, she clamped her eyes shut, swallowing hard, hoping to force it back down deep within her where it belonged. But
like bubbles in cold champagne, it relentlessly coursed its way up her body.
Unable to tamp it down any longer, April covered her face with her hands and helplessly opened her mouth, praying that randomly screaming in a morning throng of Californian Republicans would not get her shot. No sooner than a squeak had left her lips when—
“April Sun, as I live and breathe! I don’t believe it, is that really you!?”
Gulping down the scream, April looked up in surprise to see someone from a past life. “Chinoiserie?” she exclaimed, instantly
adjusting her hair. “What are you doing here?”
The vivacious young woman standing in front of her broke into an enormous smile and pulled April into an exuberant hug, expensive
perfume of vanilla and sandalwood emanating from her shapely bosom. “Oh my god, April, it’s been ages! I’d heard you moved
to Malta!” She spoke with a light Singaporean accent that bounced her words along.
Once upon a time, back when April was still the preeminent LA socialite, Chinoiserie Fan had been her protégée. Unlike most
people in the circles in which April used to run, Chinoiserie did not come from a family of means or import, but she was socially