Chapter 6: He’s Not a Normal Guy!

September 14, 2001, Chicago, Illinois

🎤 Steve

“And you thought I’d be upset about having to sleep in a guest room?” Natalie asked after I explained about the Khans.

“No, of course not, but I was bothered because I broke my word to you.”

Natalie laughed, “Only you would consider a room change necessitated by protecting a Muslim family after the hijackings on Tuesday breaking your word!”

“Well, when you put it that way...” I replied with a smile.

“Steve, you’re generous with your time, your money, your love, and ... your tongue in bed!”

I laughed, hard.

“Cute!”

“Seriously, though, it’s not a big deal. And Suzanne offered to share her queen-size bed if I wanted. The three of us, if you wanted.”

“Oh?” I asked with a smirk and an arched eyebrow.

“You’re incorrigible!” Natalie said, laughing and shaking her head. “I meant like in Saint Martin!”

“I’ll leave it up to you if we sleep upstairs.”

“Leigh is going to be here, right?”

“Yes.”

“Would it bug you if we hung out with Suzanne and her friends?”

“No, it wouldn’t. The girls and their friends have the attic, Albert and Yousef are hanging out with Jesse and Nicholas, and my wives are hanging out with Nada.”

“Is Fatimah going to be with your girls and their friends?”

“Yousef was OK with it because it’s all girls.”

Natalie laughed, “Little does he know that’s more dangerous than letting Fatimah talk to a boy!”

“No kidding,” I chuckled.

“What are you doing tonight?”

“I think I’m going to go to the dojo,” I replied.

“Alone?”

“I believe there will be quite a few students there,” I chuckled.

“I meant without your wives and daughters, you dope!”

🎤 Birgit

“Rachel?!” I exclaimed, then nervously looked up and down the street. “What are you doing here? Your mom will flip!”

“Mom has a wedding shoot in Milwaukee, and left about two hours ago so she could take pictures at the rehearsal and the rehearsal dinner. I heard from Jesse at lunch today that you and your sisters were having all your friends over, so I decided to come!”

“My dad is at the dojo and we really need to check with him because of that huge fight your mom started last time.”

“There’s no way for her to find out, and even if she did, I can say I hung out with you girls and your dad wasn’t even here!”

She had a point, but Dad was worried about how her mom would react. If we waited to ask Dad, Rachel would have to go home, and then maybe come back in ninety minutes. I decided that it was better to ask forgiveness than permission, and invited Rachel into the house. My friends, along with Ashley’s and Stephie’s started showing up, so I sent them up to the attic room, then went to the sunroom where my moms, Nada, and Fatimah were sitting.

“Mrs. Khan, Yousef said it was OK for Fatimah to hang out with us tonight,” I said. “It’ll just be girls and all we’ll be doing is playing games like Clue or Life and listening to music. I’ll put on a radio station that plays just instrumental music.”

That was something Dad had suggested so that Mrs. Khan wouldn’t be worried about rock music, which Fatimah had told me was something she wasn’t supposed to listen to.

“All the girls are really nice,” Mom said. “You’ve met most of them and most of their parents.”

“Nada, you could go up and check if you wanted,” my other mom said. “The elevator goes straight up, and Steve went to the dojo, so there are only girls in the house.”

“No men at all?” Mrs. Khan asked.

“None,” Mom said. “Albert and Yousef are next door with Jesse and Nicholas, and Suzanne’s friends are all girls.”

“You may go, Fatimah,” Mrs. Khan said.

I took Fatimah’s hand and led her to the elevator so we could go up to the attic room. Our friends all knew it was OK to just come in the front door after they rang the bell, so I didn’t have to wait downstairs for them.

“Hi, Fatimah!” several of my friends exclaimed when we walked into the attic room.

“I need to change the radio station,” I said.

“Why?” Amber protested.

“Because I promised Fatimah’s mom I’d put on an instrumental station. If I don’t, she can’t stay up here with us.”

Amber rolled her eyes, but didn’t say anything more. I was working on Fatimah, but I was being VERY careful because one mistake, and Fatimah might never be able to hang out with us again. I changed to a jazz station which played long instrumental tracks, then went to play Uno with Rachel, Fatimah, Naomi, Tiffany, and Laurie.

“Your mom sounds as bad as mine,” Rachel said to Fatimah.

“No,” Fatimah replied. “She’s not bad; she’s looking out for me.”

“That’s what my mom claims,” Rachel said. “But really it’s that she’s a control freak. I heard you have to marry your cousin when you go home.”

“Yes, it’s all arranged for next Summer.”

“You can say ‘no’,” Rachel said.

“Rache,” I countered in a voice which made it clear not to go there.

“How could I do that?” Fatimah asked. “I’d dishonor my family, and my father would be very, very angry.”

“But he can’t make you do it, can he?” Rachel asked.

“According to our tradition, it’s my father’s decision.”

“Is the guy nice at least?”

“I’ve never met him,” Fatimah replied.

“Whoa!” Rachel gasped. “Something like that would be illegal here! You could probably ask Birgit’s dad to help you.”

“Rachel,” I said. “Can I talk to you?”

I grabbed her hand, got up, and led her away from where we were playing.

“You CAN’T say stuff like that to her!” I whispered sternly. “If she tells her mom, she’ll never be allowed to hang out with me!”

“But it’s wrong!” Rachel protested, whispering as well.

“Yes, it is, but she’s a Saudi citizen and she has to go home next Summer. I’m trying to get her to see why what her parents taught her is wrong, but I have to be VERY careful because if I insult Muhammed or if I dis Islam, it’s all over. And you just told her to disobey her dad and get help from mine!”

“But forced marriage is illegal!”

“HERE! And maybe there, too, but I don’t think anyone there cares! She’s lucky they didn’t make her get married at nine! That’s legal in some Muslim countries!”

“No way!”

“Yes, way. Dad says it’s because of a misreading of the Qur’an, and that Muhammed’s wife was eighteen when they were betrothed and twenty-one when they married, but he also said he doesn’t know any serious Muslim who would admit that.”

“How do you misread nine for twenty-one?”

“Because supposedly it refers to how long it had been since she became a woman, you know, got her period, not from when she was born.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“Just keep talking to her and be her friend.”

“But how does that help?”

“Because she’s hearing something very different from how she was raised. Mom and Mom are doing the same thing with Mrs. Khan. Dad says it’s sowing just a bit of subversiveness, and you never know what might happen in the future. If they had never left Saudi Arabia, they would never be exposed to stuff like this. But now they are. Think about planting a seed and watering it. It takes time, but eventually, it grows.”

“I guess.”

“Let’s go play. Just chill about her religion and traditions and show her how much better ours are without getting in her face or giving offense. You should apologize, too, so that she doesn’t blab.”

“It does feel a lot like my mom.”

“Yeah, but your mom is insane! The Khan’s aren’t. Think about what would have happened if you lived in a Muslim country your whole life.”

“Ugh; no thanks! Of course, your dad has a harem like Muslims do!”

“Not many, really,” I said. “Most Muslims in places like Turkey, Lebanon, and Indonesia are more like Uncle Dave and Aunt Julia - conservative, go to religious services, and live their lives normally. Saudi Arabia and Iran are different, but even there, it’s not common to have more than one wife.”

“How do you know so much?”

I laughed, “You have met my dad, right?”

“Obviously!” Rachel said, laughing.

“And I read books, and I’ve talked to Fatimah and her mom. Let’s go play!”

We went back to the game and sat down.

“Sorry, Fatimah,” Rachel said. “I didn’t mean to say anything to upset you.”

“It’s OK,” Fatimah said. “You didn’t know.”

🎤 Steve

“How is Doctor Barton doing?” Sensei Jim asked when class finished.

“He’s going through the motions right now. I had thought of suggesting he take some time off from work, but after discussing it with Jess, we decided it was better if he kept busy. The kids are here until Sunday, along with his other grandkids, and that helps.”

“Has he mentioned a memorial service?”

“Not yet; I think he’s waiting to see what the authorities in New York say, but, to be honest, I wouldn’t hold out much hope for remains after a crash into a building with a full load of fuel, and then the building burning and ultimately collapsing. It’ll take months, at least, to sift through all that rubble. Just that crash outside Pittsburgh that claimed the life of one of my employees took months to locate and identify remains. What’s your take on Afghanistan?”

Sensei Jim shook his head, “If we go in heavy? Charlie Foxtrot. Just like for the Soviets or for us in Nam. Have any of your Navy friends received orders?”

“Not yet, but both Brian and Howard are expecting orders soon. Logistics guys are the most important right now if we’re going in ‘heavy’ as you say. That’s a heck of a lot of planes, because Afghanistan is landlocked and it’s not like we can stage in Iran, Pakistan, Turkmenistan, Uzbekistan, Tadzhikistan, or China.”

Sensei Jim smiled and shook his head, “Only you could reel off all of Afghanistan’s neighbors. Well, outside of a military intelligence officer or regional specialist. Knowing that a bit of China touches Afghanistan isn’t common.”

“I’ve always been interested in geography. I suspect I can write in the names of nearly every country in the world on a map. Keeping up with name changes can be a bit troublesome, but that seems to have calmed down a bit.”

“True. I suspect we’ll just airlift everything into Kabul via Germany, Turkey, or the Middle East. The real question is whether Pakistan will authorize overflight by Navy aircraft.”

“Somebody will explain it to them,” I said. “And a bunch of cash will convince one of the countries founded by a guy named Stan to allow flights from Germany.”

Sensei Jim laughed, “Nice. Well, all we can do is wait and see what Bush does.”

“My worst nightmare.”

“Worse than Gore/Lieberman?” Sensei Jim asked with an arched eyebrow.

“When you put it that way...”

“Keep me posted about the memorial service for Belinda, please.”

“Will do,” I confirmed. “I’m going to head home.”

“OK. Are you still having your private lesson with Dyani early on Sunday?”

“She hasn’t called to say otherwise, unless she called here.”

“No, she hasn’t. How is she doing?”

“She’ll be ready to join the general class by the end of the month, with all of her blue belt techniques at an acceptable level.”

“Good. What about Michelle’s little sister?”

“She’s supposed to tell me tomorrow if she wants my methods or yours.”

“You’re a real bastard in that regard,” Sensei Jim said with a smile.

“I am, but only to people who sign up for it - so far, Miyu, Molly, and Neil.”

“Dyani?”

“Probably, but I’m not sure she needs that kind of discipline. In the end, it’s up to her.”

“And your daughters?” he asked with an arched eyebrow.

“You have that exactly backwards,” I chuckled. “I’m the one who needs discipline, at least according to two of the three!”

“Birgit and Ashley?”

“Exactly, but they don’t agree on the desired outcome. Stephie is more mellow.”

“Your girls are a real trip.”

“TELL me about it!” I chuckled.

I stood, bowed, and then left the dojo to walk home. I took my time, and when I arrived, I went to find my wives to let them know I was home.

“The girls are in the attic room, and Fatimah is with them,” Kara said.

“OK. Then I won’t check on them; I’ll just hang out in my study until the Stepsisters, Fluffle, and Girl Gang disband for the evening!”

My wives laughed and Nada looked confused, but I was sure Kara or Jessica would explain the comment to her. I went upstairs, showered, dressed in lightweight sweatpants and a lightweight t-shirt, and went to my study. I pulled up my journal and began writing about the terrorist attacks which had occurred on Tuesday. I’d jotted down some first impressions that evening, but now that I’d had some time to process what had happened and reflect, I wanted to flesh things out.

There hadn’t been any news updates during the afternoon, though a prayer service had been led by the Reverend Billy Graham at the National Cathedral, and President Bush had given a speech via a bullhorn in New York to rescue and recovery workers. I scoured the news sites for anything about troop movements, but all I could find were stories referring to activation of Guard and Reserve units. Once reporters knew about troop or matériel movement, I’d be able to gauge when active combat would begin.

I heard the familiar trill of the ‘new message’ sound I’d set for gaim and switched to it.

Etheldred: Hey!
NIKASteve: Hey, Audrey! It’s Friday night! Shouldn’t you be on a date?
Etheldred: He thought buying me a beer was sufficient. He was wrong.
NIKASteve: He chose poorly!
Etheldred: Just waiting for my roommate to come back and then we’ll hit the bar.
NIKASteve: Don’t hurt yourself!
Etheldred: 😛
NIKASteve: Is that an offer?
Etheldred: Do you want it to be an offer?
NIKASteve: You learn quickly, young padawan!
Etheldred: I haven’t even had my initiation! How can I be a padawan?
NIKASteve: The wedding reception was an initiation!
Etheldred: I meant the OTHER kind of fucking!
NIKASteve: Oh.
Etheldred: You knew that!
NIKASteve: Did I?
Etheldred: Stop it!
NIKASteve: Or?
Etheldred: I bite!
NIKASteve: Promise? 😍
Etheldred: You’re too funny! My roomie is here. Gotta run! Chat soon!
NIKASteve: L8r!
Etheldred: Bye!

I brought my journal back to the foreground and typed some more, but then decided I needed to just relax, so I fired up Baldur’s Gate II, for which I’d recently purchased the Throne of Bhaal expansion, and set about completing the new adventure. I played for about an hour when I saw someone come to the door of my study. I looked up to see Rachel.

“Your mom will lose what’s left of her mind,” I said.

“She’s in Milwaukee until Sunday on a wedding shoot.”

“But if she finds out you’re here, she’s likely to call the cops.”

“Nobody is going to tell! I was hanging out with Birgit and her friends and now I’m going home so I can be there when she calls, which will be in about forty minutes.”

“Just be careful, please.”

“I can’t wait until I turn eighteen!”

“Did you get everything set up to graduate early?”

“Yes, though I didn’t tell my mom. I’ll tell her the same time I tell her I’m moving out!”

“Just be smart, Rachel. Your mom can still cause trouble after you turn eighteen.”

“‘No, officer, I absolutely did not have sex before I turned eighteen.’ There’s no proof.”

“Which hasn’t stopped the government in the past. It’s better to try to avoid antagonizing your mom further.”

“I just wish ... sorry. I know better.”

“As I said, come talk to me when you turn eighteen.”

“You know I will!” Rachel replied with a smile and a wink.

She left and I returned to playing my game. About twenty minutes later, the girls’ party broke up, and I chatted briefly with Kathy before she took her girls home, and then went to sit with my wives when Nada and Fatimah decided to go to bed.

“Did either of you know Rachel was here?” I asked.

“No!” Kara exclaimed. “Carla is going to lose what’s left of her mind!”

“She has any left?” Jessica asked.

“According to Rachel, Carla is in Milwaukee until Sunday. You know my concern, obviously.”

“Yes. We should talk to Birgit.”

“I’ll do that in the morning during cuddle time.”

“Where’s your paramour?”

“Natalie and Leigh went out with Suzanne and her friends.”

“Are you staying with her tonight?”

“I think so, but I’m not sure when they’ll be back.”

“Let’s get the girls to bed, and cuddle in the ‘Indian’ room.”

Fifteen minutes later, after the girls were in bed, Kara, Jessica, and I were in the ‘Indian’ room cuddling on a pile of floor pillows.

“I’m having a joint Philosophy Club meeting on Sunday,” I said. “You’re both invited, obviously.”

“What’s your topic?” Jessica asked.

“I’m not sure yet, but probably how freedom is very scary, and we’re going to hear a lot of rhetoric about trading freedom for security and people are going to buy into it.”

“And you’re afraid the ‘security’ argument will win?”

“I’m sure of it. Well, the security rhetoric; there won’t be a debate, really. People are sufficiently scared and angry that all it will take is a bit of propaganda to get them to give up significant freedoms. But we’ll talk about it on Sunday.”

“Tiger, what do you think about me switching back to my old shift?”

“I think it’s up to you.”

“I want your opinion, and Kara’s, too.”

“Kara?” I asked.

“I think I liked it better when we could have normal bedtimes every night, and could walk you to and from work on weekends.”

“Me, too,” I agreed.

“Then I’m going to see if the Attending who has that wants to switch,” Jessica said. “Worst case, I’ll request it for June.”