Chapter 28: Start by Telling Yourself the Truth

March 23, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"Does it bother you that I'm a foot shorter than you?" Keiko asked as we showered on Wednesday morning.

"Does it bother you that I'm a foot taller than you?" I asked.

Keiko laughed softly, "Touché."

"It's an obvious, but mostly irrelevant, physical trait," I replied. "You know I find you attractive, and we've clearly overcome the height difference!"

Keiko smiled, "Yes, we have! And you've made it clear you find me attractive! You know I think you're handsome, too."

"You also know I believe personality and intelligence are far more important."

"Same! And me being Japanese doesn't bother you?"

"Why would it?" I asked. "I actually consider that a positive!"

"Some people are concerned about mixing races."

"I'm certainly not," I said, wondering what had caused her to think that before it dawned on me. "That's your mom's concern, isn't it?"

"Yes. My grandfather has no problem with that. You know my aunt married a Caucasian man, and he and my grandfather get along quite well. My mom never approved, but you know she was born in Japan and has a very Japanese view of mixing races."

"I remember you mentioning that there are very few immigrants in Japan."

"Yes, it's a completely homogenous society, and even a drop of non-Japanese blood can create difficulties."

"That sounds like the foolish laws in the South where a single Afro-American ancestor was enough to make you an Afro-American and to be subjected to racist restrictions on just about everything and segregation just about everywhere."

"Asians have had similar problems in the US. I'm sure you know about the internment of Japanese Americans, but do you know about the Chinese Exclusion Act?"

"No. What's that?"

"A law from not long after the Civil War that effectively banned immigration by Chinese laborers. Before that was the Page Act, which banned immigration by Chinese women. At one point, a newspaper called Chinese immigration an 'invasion'. There were several massacres of Chinese due to severe anti-Asian sentiment because of a belief in the idea of 'Yellow Peril'."

"I think they missed that in my history classes."

"I'm not surprised. They weren't in mine, either. My grandfather taught me about them, as well as the truth about the internment. My great-grandfather served in the Japanese Marines before World War II and emigrated to Hawai´i with his wife in 1926. My grandfather was born in Hawai´i in 1928, and the family moved to California in 1936. They were fortunate because a friend of my paternal great-grandfather saw what was coming and offered my great-grandfather a job here in Chicago. They moved here from Los Angeles in June of 1941, which allowed my grandfather and his parents to avoid going to Manzanar."

"The entire thing was disgraceful."

"Especially given very few Germans were sent to internment camps despite some of them actually working for Nazi Germany, whereas Japanese-Americans did no such thing."

"I'm not familiar enough with that to comment one way or the other except to say that nobody should be imprisoned or have their rights stripped simply because of the color of their skin or their national heritage."

We got out of the shower and dried off.

"Will your mom be a problem?" I asked.

"Do you mean would I allow her to influence me against you? Absolutely not. I think you might have figured out my strategy."

I nodded, "You knew I would treat your grandfather with respect and follow the traditions, at least insofar as I could, and he would approve."

"Exactly! Don't worry about my mom. Would anyone in your family say anything?"

"Not my mom nor my aunt and uncle. I have no idea about my grandparents because I haven't had any contact with them since I was about six, and that was a gift they sent and a thank-you card I sent back."

"Where do they live?"

"Naperville. And they do know I'm here but haven't reached out either directly or through my aunt."

"Have you thought about calling them?"

"Yes, but I choose not to."

"I want to say something, but I don't want it to seem as if I'm pressuring you."

"Go on."

"A very important precept for Japanese is respect for elders, and my grandfather would be unhappy if you were estranged from your grandparents."

"Do you need to say anything to him about that?"

"No. But if we were, at some point, to become a couple with a plan for the future, he'd insist on meeting them."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," I replied. "But I promise to keep an open mind."

"That's all I can ask!"

We finished dressing, went downstairs to have breakfast, then I drove Keiko to Loyola before heading to the Hancock Center. It was a fairly typical Wednesday, and after work, I joined Violet for dinner.

"Nancy said Saturday, April 9th is OK," Violet said.

"I noticed you don't call her 'Doctor'."

"She has a Master's in clinical psychology, not a PhD or MD, so she doesn't use the title 'doctor'. And she doesn't talk or act like Doctor Lochner."

"OK. I'll come here around 9:30am, and then we'll have lunch as we agreed."

"Great!" Violet exclaimed.

We had a nice dinner, then headed to class. Teri continued to be cordial, though I expected that once the class ended in May, I'd never see her again. After class, Violet and I had our usual coffee and pie. When we finished, I walked her to her house, then headed home.

"There's an envelope from the US State Department Passport Office," Bianca said as soon as I walked into the house.

I quickly went to the kitchen and found the envelope, carefully opened it, and extracted my brand-new passport. I checked it for accuracy, then signed it. That accomplished, I watched the evening news with Shelly and Bianca.

"Did you guys watch the speech?" I asked when the news mentioned Reagan's speech on defense and national security.

"No," Bianca replied. "Why?"

"Because what he said will affect the markets, both in terms of risk analysis and defense stocks. I've noticed some moves in defense stocks, but attributed it to the general military build-up. I now suspect part of it was insiders who knew about this new Strategic Defense Initiative. I'll have to read the transcript in the Journal tomorrow."

"In the future, you could record them."

"I never even thought about that!" I chuckled. "We only use the VCR for playback, not recording."

When the news ended, I headed up to bed.

March 24, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

In the Journal on Thursday morning, I read the main point of Reagan's speech —

The gist, though, was that it wasn't even funded as yet, so any pop in defense stocks would be highly speculative.

"What do you think?" I asked Tony when we discussed it when he arrived in the office a few minutes after me.

"Traditional defense stocks may not be the right play," Tony said. "If this is what I think it is, it'll be companies with experience in high-energy physics, computers, space, and satellite systems. There's some overlap, but I'll need to do some research. And this will absolutely affect mining stocks, as many of the same companies that mine precious metals also mine strategic metals. Not to mention the equities held by the pension funds our team manages."

"And most of that mining is done overseas, so international clearing and trade agreements will come into play as well."

"Assuming Congress agrees," Joel, the fixed-income analyst, interjected. "Senator Kennedy called it a 'reckless Star Wars scheme', according to this morning's Washington Post."

"Mutual Assured Destruction is a terrible idea," Tony observed. "But it has managed to keep the peace, or at least limit war to mostly low-intensity conflicts."

"Afghanistan?" I suggested.

"It depends on how you look at what's going on. It's basically asymmetrical warfare, similar to what happened to us in Viet Nam."

"True," I agreed, "and the outcome is likely to be similar."

"Afghanistan is not called 'the graveyard of empires' for no reason," Joel observed.

"We should probably get to work; our analyst reports are due."

When I turned in my report, I also added a request for time off in July for my trip to Saint Martin, noting that I'd count that as my 'sensitive leave' period, which meant actually taking two weeks off, only one of which would be in Saint Martin. I'd need to decide what to do for the rest of the time, but I still had a few months to figure it out. I confirmed with Anna that she would put in her request, let her know I'd received my passport, then went back to my desk.

Later that morning, Mr. Matheson let me know he'd approved the time off request, and at 11:20am, I left the office to meet with Anala.

"You're meeting this guy every Tuesday?" I inquired after we sat down to eat.

"Yes, though he had to cancel on Tuesday because he had a meeting about buying a house. Sound familiar?"

"My age?"

"He's a successful computer programmer and sold a business already."

"He sounds like a guy I should get to know."

"He's going through some serious personal struggles at the moment, so perhaps in the future."

"Me, too," I replied.

"Bev, right?"

I nodded, "Several people have pointed out that ... well, that she's basically controlling my life even though I have no idea where she is and haven't heard from her in nearly a month."

"Controlling in what way?" Anala inquired.

"Basically that no matter what relationship I might be in, that if, at some point in the future, Bev came back into my life, I'd abandon it for her."

"What do you think?"

"I think there's probably some truth to that idea because giving up on her feels almost like betrayal."

"You blame yourself because you moved to Chicago, and while that might be a contributing factor, Bev is still responsible for how she reacted. But I wonder if she's suffering from what's called the 'baby blues'."

"What's that?"

"Depression following childbirth. There are historical records back to ancient Greece and India, among other places, that discuss what were called 'hysterical' reactions."

"Funny?" I asked.

"No, that's a modern usage; think 'hysteria'."

"Ah, OK."

"Interestingly, that word derives from the Greek word for 'uterus', and I think you can see the connection."

"Yes. So it's a ... what? Mental illness?"

"It would be, insofar as it interfered with friendships, work, caring for oneself, and caring for a baby."

"Are you suggesting that Heather is in danger?"

"It really is a question of whether Bev is thinking rationally or not."

"I'd say 'not'," I replied. "I totally understand wanting to be self-sufficient because of my mom, but what Bev is doing makes no sense."

"I'm going to make an educated guess that you know the source of her irrationality, and it's not simply having had a baby."

"You know most of the details," I said.

"You think it's because of your mom's relationship with Heather's father?"

"Maybe, but I have the distinct impression there's more to it, but it's not as if I can ask Bev about it."

"That is an impediment to solving the riddle," Anala agreed.

We ate in silence for about five minutes before Anala spoke again.

"I feel that you're locked into a pattern of behavior from which you might never escape," she said. "You need to find some way to break the pattern and move forward."

"I'm not sure how to do that without some kind of resolution with Bev."

"That's what I'm getting at," Anala said. "What happens if you never have a resolution? And then she appears out of the blue one day after you've married and had children. Then what?"

"That is exactly what my other friends have suggested without knowing all the details. But I can't just give up on her. It would feel like betrayal, as I said, and I gave my word that I'd always be there for her. What kind of man would I be if I were to yield on one of my most basic core principles in the face of adversity?"

"A wise one," Anala said.

I shook my head, "I don't believe that."

"Then you're stuck. It's one thing to be consistent; it's another thing to be stubborn in the face of evidence that your attempts at consistency are the problem."

"But what are principles if we abandon them? May I turn the tables for a moment?"

"Sure."

"Would you abandon your principles and go to bed with me?"

"You know the answer to that and why. It's not stubbornness; it's about balancing needs, desires, and objectives. That's precisely what you aren't doing. You've put the principle ahead of the damage it's doing to you. You've made duty, honor, and keeping your word a suicide pact with yourself. You'd make a perfect Marine."

"That's hitting below the belt, given you know I'm a confirmed pacifist."

"Just as I am, but at some point, duty to self has to outweigh all other considerations unless you've decided to martyr yourself for Bev."

"Some principles are worth dying for."

Anala nodded, "They are, and if this is one of them, then you'll probably get your wish, at least with regard to something you have maintained is a core value and goal — a family. I'm going to guess that the friends who have pointed out your pattern of behavior are young women who believe they might have a future with you."

"Yes."

"Work out what they're actually telling you, Jonathan. I understand your point about honoring your core values, but I feel you've created a no-win scenario because you've cut off all means of escape. That was my point about you being locked into a pattern of behavior. Fundamentally, only you can help yourself at this point. Nobody else can."

"Bev could."

"And you just proved my point in a way that you yourself can't refute. You've imprisoned yourself in a cage every bit as effective as the ones fundamentalist religious leaders construct for the flocks."

"Now that's a really low blow!" I protested.

"And yet, completely accurate."

I frowned because there was some truth to what Anala was saying. She and I had discussed the problem of conflicting values and what would be called 'situational ethics', a concept I found distasteful. We finished eating and left the deli.

"You need to solve this problem, Jonathan," Anala said. "Nobody can solve it for you."

I nodded, we hugged, and I headed back to work. The rest of the day was typical, including dinner with Violet and class, though I skipped coffee and pie so that I could meet Mr. Wyatt at the house on Morse Avenue for a final walkthrough before the Friday closing. Bianca and Shelly were already there when I arrived, and Mr. Wyatt arrived a few minutes later.

"Sorry this had to be so late," I said to him as he unlocked the front door.

"I take care of my clients," he said. "Referrals and repeat clients are the key to a successful real estate practice. I'm positive we'll do much more business in the future."

"You've been extremely helpful," I said. "And I, too, value long-term relationships. What am I looking for in this walkthrough?"

"It's mostly a formality," Mr. Wyatt said. "The home inspection was performed after the boiler and water heater were replaced, and the central air was serviced. The inspector checked all the faucets, toilets, and electrical, and looked for any structural damage or pests. Just walk through and verify that the house is in the condition you expected."

"And if not?"

"Then we ask for funds to be withheld by the title company pending resolution."

Bianca, Shelly, and I walked through the entire house and found nothing we considered amiss. With the furniture all removed, it was even more obvious that the floors needed to be refinished and the walls painted, but we'd planned on that.

"Everything looks good," I said. "When do we receive the keys?"

"As soon as you sign the paperwork, the title company will provide you with keys. I removed the lockbox from the door earlier today. I'll give you this key tomorrow afternoon."

"Something I never asked, but how do I know the previous owners didn't retain a key?"

"You don't. If that concerns you, you could have a locksmith re-key all the doors. I can recommend one if you want to do that."

"I think I do. It's not that I expect any trouble, but why take the risk?"

He opened his briefcase and handed me a card for a locksmith, which I stuck in my pocket.

"Anything else?" he asked.

I shook my head, "Not that I can think of. Bianca? Shelly?"

Neither of them had anything to add, so we left the house. I shook hands with Mr. Wyatt, and then Bianca, Shelly, and I got into my car to drive back to the house on Estes Avenue.

"There was a message on the machine for you from Marcia," Bianca said as I pulled away from the curb. "She said it was OK to call any time before 11:00pm."

"OK."

"What's the scoop for tomorrow?" Bianca asked.

"I have to be at the title company at 8:30am," I said. "Nelson will meet me there, and it could take as little as thirty minutes and as long as three or four hours. I'll go to the new house at 4:00pm because that's when the junk man is coming to take away the old appliances. I'll also stop at the hardware store and pick up the painting supplies. Those are the only things for tomorrow. On Saturday, everyone is meeting at the house at 7:00am and we'll bring doughnuts and coffee. Aurelio's will deliver pizza around noon, and we'll knock off around 5:00pm. We'll reconvene on Sunday morning."

"You're seeing Esme and Katy on Sunday, right?"