Authors: Jennifer Saginor
here when this isn’t his house. We follow him upstairs, passing the
glass cabinet filled with naked figurines. My sister doesn’t even no-
tice. We go inside Room Two and Savannah’s eyes open wide. I
grab her hand, leading her into the spacious bathroom.
“Wow! There are two toilets!”
“And a Jacuzzi!” I say.
We run our fingers across the smooth marble edge. We peek
inside the shower, which is stocked with shampoo, conditioner,
and Jergens body lotion.
“You kids can watch television. Jennifer knows what to do if
you want anything to eat,” Dad shouts before he disappears down
the long hallway.
Savannah and I immediately run back into the bedroom and
snoop around.
“Look at this.” Savannah points to a picture of us on the
dresser.
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Playground
I nod, inquisitively opening drawers and cabinets. I find my fa-
ther’s T-shirts, shorts, and swimming goggles, holding them up for
her to see.
“What are these doing here?” Savannah shrugs.
“Hey, want to see the pool?” I ask.
As much as I want to forget what I saw near the pool, I can’t get
it out of my head. Something inside wants me to show my sister,
even though I know it will scare her too.
We walk along the pathway to the forest and keep looking over
our shoulders because it feels like we are being watched. Nearby, a
monkey screeches. We jump and huddle close together.
“What’s that?” my sister asks, slightly shaken.
“It’s just the monkey cages,” I explain, pretending I’ve seen
them before. “Do you want to go down there?”
We turn off the main pathway and weave our way through a
forest of trees and branches. Savannah clings on to me for dear
life. I play it off like I know where I’m going. We walk cautiously
down the steps as dozens of small monkeys screech at the top of
their lungs and jump on the fence in front of us. Scared to death,
Savannah and I grab each other, holler, and make a run for it. Sa-
vannah trips over a bucket of fruit and begins to cry. My heart
breaks when she cries.
“Don’t cry. Maybe they’re just hungry,” I say, trying to com-
fort her.
I dash back to the bucket to find peanuts and grapes inside.
“They haven’t eaten yet. That’s why they’re screaming. Let’s
feed them!” I holler.
I wipe the tears off her soft, rosy cheeks. She nods and we grab
a few grapes, approaching the cage once again. The monkeys make
noise as they gather around, accepting our offerings willfully and
playfully. Happy smiles sweep over our faces as they devour the
pail of food. We throw kisses to them and continue roaming.
Turning another corner, we discover a group of blonde tan
girls in bikinis playing volleyball. My sister laughs because one of
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J E N N I F E R S A G I N O R
the girls isn’t wearing a top and her boobs bounce, practically hit-
ting her in the face.
“Look at all the booby ladies!” she says.
We giggle, noticing my father, Hef, and a few other men sur-
rounded by more topless women by the pool.
“Ew! Gross!”
Savannah and I nudge each other.
“Why are they naked?” Savannah asks.
“I don’t know. Let’s spy on them.”
We sneak through the bushes, whispering into pretend walkie-
talkies, ending up near the fishpond, where Savannah opens the
wooden food basket, drawing all the fish over to us. The giant koi
make loud splashing noises and we try to calm them down, but it’s
too late. Dad spots us and I freeze momentarily because I’m not
sure whether we’re supposed to be out here. He then waves us over.
He’s in a tight blue Speedo bathing suit, sitting with a group of
men smoking cigars and playing backgammon as girls fawn all
over them.
“Hi, girls!”
I stare at my father, surprised by his cheerfulness as he intro-
duces us to the ladies whose names all sound the same. Hef hugs
us both and we feel special.
“Hello, darlings,” he says, his warm voice already familiar to me.
His cheek is soft when I kiss him, and it is no wonder why all
the girls like him so much. Hef ’s gentleness is comforting.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see an annoying lady nudge Dad.
“Do you think I need to lose weight?” she asks.
“You could drop a few pounds,” Dad answers and she slaps him
playfully.
“And about these things,” he squeezes her breasts, “they could
definitely be bigger.”
Dad chuckles as he reaches for something in his black med-
ical bag.
I overhear two Playmates whisper to each other.
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Playground
“He’s Hef ’s doctor,” one Playmate informs the other.
“What about me? Am I fat?” another one whines to my father.
“Why don’t we go upstairs and I can take a look,” Dad says,
giggling like a boy.
“Do I look fat?” Savannah blurts out.
“Sugarplum, we won’t know for a few more years, but you can
come see me whenever you want, just like the Playmates do.”
“What’s a Playmate?” Savannah asks.
“They’re models,” Dad whispers back.
“Why are they naked?”
“Because they’re proud of their bodies,” he explains firmly, as
his eyebrows lower and his facial expression hardens.
Clouds pass over us briefly.
“We got to feed the monkeys,” I tell Hef, who smiles instantly,
giving me attention. “They came over to us, and we even pet one.”
“They must like you. They hide whenever your father goes any-
where near them,” Hef chuckles with ease.
“Little fuckers,” Dad laughs.
“I want to feed the monkeys!” some blonde shouts.
“I’ve got a hungry monkey for you,” a hairy tan guy with a
mustache offers.
“Spoken from the mouth of a true smut star!” Dad laughs.
“At least I’m paid well for my time,” the guy responds.
Dad lifts the thinnest blonde in the air like a child. “Let’s go,
sweetheart.”
My face turns beet red as I watch him and the bimbo walk off.
I’m not sure if I’m mad because he is taking her to see the mon-
keys or that he didn’t take us.
A tall, conservative, aloof-looking woman approaches, smiling
at us in a parental way like she knows us. Her name is Crawford. The
girls are overly friendly to her. Crawford bends down and whispers
something into Hef ’s ear and I try to overhear what she says.
“I am being summoned; excuse me. I will return shortly,” Hef
announces.
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J E N N I F E R S A G I N O R
He smiles warmly at Savannah and me before he leaves.
The sun is going down and the Playmates are getting cold. Sa-
vannah and I are wrapped in towels. Dad still hasn’t returned from
feeding the monkeys and the girls ask if we’re staying for the party.
“It’s movie night,” one of them hoots.
“We didn’t bring any clothes,” I say, looking down at my dirty
T-shirt and shorts.
“Don’t worry, we’ll doll you up!” the Playmates shout and they
grab their sunglasses, chattering to one another as we follow be-
hind, seemingly forgotten.
“Living at the Mansion has been so incredible. My friends back
home still don’t know what to make of all it,” one of them boasts.
“Someone told me if I fucked the Doc I could be a centerfold.”
“Or at least get free prescriptions.”
“Fuck ’em; take them for all they’re worth,” one girl whispers
to another. This was clearly their attitude.
“Gold digger,” another says.
“Her conscious lies somewhere between Gucci and Prada.”
The girls slap each other high-five.
These girls are from outer space. Savannah and I glance at each
other and they must pick up our vibe because they finally ask,
“Wait, who’s your father?”
“The Doc,” we tell them.
“Wait, who’s your dad?” another dingbat asks, like she didn’t
hear us the first time.
“Oh my God! Oh my God! That’s your father? I love him! I
didn’t know he had kids! He put me on my diet!”
“So your Dad and Hef are really good friends, huh?” asks one
of the Playmates.
I’m not sure if she means to sound stupid or if she just is. Ei-
ther way, I decide not to respond.
“We went to a party with him the other night. What’s it like be-
ing his daughter?” a Playmate asks and we shrug.
We enter a small house through the kitchen door. It reminds
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Playground
me of
Little House on the Prairie
because there’s lots of wood and
everything seems old-fashioned. The living room has exercise equip-
ment and the girls jump on as one of them grabs my sister’s arm.
“Let’s find you something to wear!”
My sister’s eyes perk up. The girls blast Donna Summer and
dance around, grabbing bottles of Pepsi out of the fridge.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell Savannah, but she doesn’t hear me.
She’s too busy playing with her new gold hoop earrings.
As I wander the grounds, I realize this has turned into more
than just a quick visit. I pass the tennis court and outdoor bar with
white tables and yellow umbrellas. I turn right down a long grass-
lined pathway leading me back to the castle. Entering the large
front door, I try to recall which way to go. I turn left, noticing a
small door, so I peek inside. It’s a phone room.
I pick up one of the phones. “Security,” a man’s voice says on
the other end.
I hang up instantly.
On the table is a black matchbox with white rabbit ears, so I
stick it in my pocket and leave, startled by a butler when I exit.
“Are you looking for your father?”
“Yes,” I answer, fearful he knows I took the matches.
“He is in the library.”
I smile and walk slowly past the screening room, where a pretty
young girl with hazel eyes sits on the couch staring into space. I
look at her, but she doesn’t flinch. What is she staring at? I push my
way through a purple velvet curtain and find myself in a room
feeling around for a doorknob. I push on it hesitantly and am
bombarded with loud men shouting.
“Park Avenue!”
“Madison Avenue! Hand it over, baby!”
“Jail time for you, sucker!” another guy yells.
I feel small, embarrassed. Hef acknowledges me first.
“Well, look who we have here. Hello, darling,” Hef says, wel-
coming me in his usual charming way.
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J E N N I F E R S A G I N O R
I kiss him on the cheek again as if he’s my second dad and then
make my way over to my father. I sit on his lap, feeling special
because I’m the only girl in the room. I recognize one of the
Playmates on a cover of a magazine as I pet a small black poodle,
which I’m told lives upstairs with one of Hef ’s friends.
I wonder why so many people live here, but I never ask.
“Have you seen Vanessa lately? Man, she has a phenomenal
rack,” the guy with a mustache blurts out.
“Great work. Who’d you refer her to?” a tall guy with broad
shoulders asks as he nudges my father.
“I have my sources,” Dad laughs.
“She looks like that stripper—you know, the one from last
weekend,” the man with the poodle says.
“Which one, the blonde, the blonde, or the other blonde?”
They laugh.
I slip out of the library and trace my steps back to the prairie
house to check on Savannah.
When I enter the room, she’s been done up in a flapper outfit.
“Why are you wearing that?” I ask.
Savannah ignores me because she’s too busy parading around,
showing off her sparkling Bulova jewels and feathered Lacroix scarf.
I weave my way through the fashion frenzy, wandering cau-
tiously down a small hallway of bedrooms. I peek my head into the
crack of a doorway, spying on one of the girls as she leans over and
sniffs white powder off the dresser. She holds the side of her nose
after she lifts up and exhales, “Ah.” She pushes a tiny straw into her
other nostril, leans down, and sniffs harder this time. It appears
painful as she lifts up and shakes her head a bit. I jerk my head
back, hiding the instant she turns in my direction.
In another room, a girl poses naked in front of the mirror hold-
ing several skimpy outfits up to herself. She clasps a choker around
her neck and traces the edge of her fingers down her stomach, touch-
ing herself. I stumble back, startled by a woman towering over me
in the hallway.
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Playground
“Your turn to dress up,” she smiles.
By now, a dinner party is under way in the main house. We en-
ter the foyer as guests in colorful outfits greet us, dancing to the
hustle. We move to the dining room, where a huge buffet is spread
out. My father and Hef sit at the head of an oval mahogany table.
They seem to be deep in conversation. Dad’s face is glowing. It’s
like no one else is even around. He doesn’t notice us until the Play-
mates scream for his attention, showing off our new outfits. I tap
Dad on the shoulder and both of them break their conversation
and acknowledge me.
“Hello again, darling. Are you enjoying yourself ?” Hef asks.
“The ladies wanted us to wear their clothes, but I didn’t want
to get too dressy,” I tell him.
“In my home, you can wear whatever you’re comfortable in,”