Chapter 9: ‘Not for Me’ Doesn’t Mean ‘Not for Anyone’

September 17, 2001, Chicago, Illinois

🎤 Steve

“That was as good as I hoped it would be,” Dyani said as we sat in the kitchen with tall glasses of ice water.

“I agree.”

“Besides ‘whatever the girl wants’, what do you prefer?”

“Just slow, sensual missionary position lovemaking.”

Dyani nodded knowingly, “I would have guessed something like that. But I also get the picture from everything you’ve said that you can be as wild as the girl wants to get.”

“I do have some hard lines I don’t cross,” I replied. “The main one is that if there are multiple partners, it’s only girls, not another guy.”

Dyani nodded, “I have zero interest in multiple partners, guys or girls, so I can relate. Another question, if I may, and you don’t have to answer, but you’ve been with the other women who are your personal students, right?”

I nodded, “Yes, and that leads to another firm rule. The ones who are in committed relationships I was with before those relationships - I won’t be a party to cheating.”

“Nobody should. That’s why I held back in the past. I know your agreement with your wives allowed this, and I’m positive they know I’m here.”

“They do.”

“Which leads to the next question - may I ask again in the future?”

“You may, with the caveat I mentioned before about no irrevocable commitments, as well as rigorous adherence to the STI rules. They’re completely transitive, so any partner you’re with has to adhere to the rules; condoms are not sufficient to satisfy my agreement with my wives.”

“Would you explain your relationship with Suzanne?”

“I could, but I think you’d be better served hearing it from her. That way you can ask questions and hear her perspective.”

“That makes sense. I’ll speak to her after karate tomorrow.”

“OK. I’ll speak to Sensei Jim about our arrangement.”

“Then I’ll head back to campus so I can get to class and I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

I walked Dyani to the door and we hugged. After she left, I went to my study and fired up my computer. I had no urgent messages, so after a quick check of the stock market which had tanked as expected, despite a half-point cut of interest rates, I got to work on improvements to the automated database maintenance programs which ran on the Linux servers. I worked until noon, then joined Suzanne and Natalie who had come to the house for lunch.

“What do you know about asylum?” Natalie asked.

“In the US? Other than political, it’s almost impossible, and even political asylum is tough. Katya was fortunate to be in the right place at the right time and have someone very well-connected approach the government.”

“Not political.”

“Who are we talking about?” I asked warily.

“Fatimah, obviously.”

“As wrong as forced marriage is, I don’t know if that’s sufficient to get asylum. I’m sure it’s not at seventeen, as the Saudi government would demand her return, and from what I know, we’d send her back. I’m pretty sure she’d have to show credible evidence that her life would be in danger, and I don’t get that feeling. I also suspect her visa doesn’t permit her to claim asylum, even assuming she’d want to. Does she want to?”

“No,” Natalie admitted. “It’s just that the two of us, as well as Leigh and Birgit, are all really concerned for her.”

“Me, too; but the thing is, SHE isn’t concerned. And the four of you need to be VERY careful about what you say to her because it’s almost certain she’s going to have to go home, and that means she needs to be very careful about what she says. Look, I don’t like it any more than you do, but I don’t think there’s anything you can do unless SHE initiates it, and even then, her situation is such that successfully staying in the US is a longshot.”

“What if she married here?” Suzanne asked.

“Well, first she’d have to turn eighteen, which I know she does in December, but even then, I suspect her visa has all kinds of stipulations, and she might have to go back to Saudi Arabia to apply for a new visa. And given the current political environment, I don’t know how willing the US government will be to issue the visa OR the Saudi government to allow her to leave.”

“I think I’m beginning to see why you don’t like the modern concept of the nation-state,” Suzanne observed. “It interferes with the free movement of people, goods, capital, and information.”

“And?” I prompted.

“If you can’t freely leave, then you can’t freely give consent, which makes the government illegitimate.”

“Very good, my young padawan! But, in the here and now, that’s the way things are, our realpolitik.”

“So there’s nothing we can do?”

“Nothing realistic,” I replied. “Now, I am NOT suggesting this, but the ‘anchor baby’ idea has worked for some, though the Supreme Court hasn’t definitively ruled on it.”

“‘Anchor baby’?” Suzanne asked.

“Sorry, I saw that term used several years ago, and it refers to a baby born to someone who is living in the US. The Constitution basically says that anyone born here is a citizen. The Supreme Court ruled back in the late 19th century that if a foreign national was a resident of the US, their kids would be citizens, without regard to their parents’ status. There are some exceptions, including diplomats, but the rule generally applies. Nobody is sure if it would apply to an illegal immigrant, but most opinions I’ve seen say that it would. I think, but I don’t know, that because Fatimah is a legal resident, a baby would be a citizen and would give her the right to stay. BUT, and you can’t discount this, the Saudi government could consider that child a Saudi citizen because his mother is a Saudi citizen and that makes the whole thing murky. And none of that matters, because I can’t see Fatimah engaging in pre-marital sex under any circumstances.”

“You’re just full of good news,” Natalie sighed.

“Sorry. Honestly, even if Fatimah wanted that, I’m not sure there’s anything we could do about it. Talk to Patricia if you like; she’s a civil rights attorney and she might know better, or at least be able to ask an immigration expert for you. I think I’m right, but I’m not positive.”

“Sadly, what you say sounds right.”

“Remember, too, that arranged marriage is a long-standing tradition in many cultures, and Fatimah isn’t objecting. I know I used ‘forced’ before because that’s how it seems to us, but it’s arranged and she believes it’s her duty. In a sense, it’s like my friend in Japan, Sakurako, who feels her duty outweighs any personal desires.”

“Except for her desire for a certain American karate student!” Suzanne teased.

“And yet, even there, she was dutiful. Buddhism and Shinto don’t put any specific value on virginity; they do demand both self-respect and respect for your partner, but there is no stigma for coming to the marriage bed not being a virgin. My friend Anala has the same basic view of duty and honor, and that led her to an arranged marriage. And, I’ll point, out, Miyu asked a Buddhist priest named Kaito to find her a suitable husband, which is how she met Hisataka.”

“Do you know how annoying you are?” Natalie groused.

“Human beings with two X chromosomes tell me that all the time! Those with Y chromosomes do not! So clearly, logic and intelligence are provided by Y chromosomes!”

Both girls laughed and rolled their eyes.

“And pussy is provided by two X chromosomes,” Suzanne declared, “so you might want to reconsider your previous statement!”

“Pussy is the master trump in all male/female relationships!” Natalie teased.

“Anecdotal evidence does suggest that to be true,” I admitted soberly.

“Says the man who has had more pussy than a division of marines!”

“I’m not sure I’d go THAT far,” I chuckled. “But your point is taken. I’m curious, did you pick up some hint from Fatimah, or is this just the two of you being appropriately offended by 7th-century views on women?”

“It’s the blatant misogyny,” Natalie declared. “Fatimah didn’t give any indication to us, or to Birgit, that she’s unhappy.”

“I’m curious what you would say to an American Muslim who grew up here, but wanted to honor the traditions of her faith?”

“Run away!” Natalie exclaimed, mimicking the line from Monty Python and the Holy Grail.

“And the same for a Roman Catholic priest or nun or Orthodox monastic? Remember, ‘not for me’ doesn’t mean ‘not for anyone’.”

“You are a royal pain in the butt!” Natalie groused.

I chuckled, “That’s usually where I say ‘I hate you’ to whomever it is who has backed me into a rhetorical corner. If and when Fatimah expresses a desire NOT to marry the way her father arranged, then you should do what you can to help her. Until then, the Khans have the same right to live their lives the way they choose as the rest of us do.”

We finished our lunch and the girls went back to campus while I went back to my study to continue working. I took one break at 3:30pm to check on the progress of the work on the basement and saw that, as usual, the Brown Construction crew was on, or maybe even slightly ahead of schedule. I also changed the sheets on the bed in the nanny room and wiped down the bathroom, so that it would be ready for Natalie to use on Friday night.

🎤 Birgit

“Your dad is right, you know,” Suzanne said when we went for a walk after dinner.

“Ugh,” I responded. “There are too many controlling parents in the world!”

“But you don’t have one, so be happy about that!”

“I know, it’s just so stupid. I mean, OK, I get my mom coming to Vermont when that «Sheißkopf» tried to kiss me!”

Suzanne laughed, “Where did you get that word?”

“Katy! She says it’s not real German, because they would use «Schweinehund», which means ‘bastard’, but literally means ‘pig-dog’. I think ‘shithead’ is better!”

“That’s the word Joyce used to use for your dad, right?”

“Yes! But now everyone uses Karin’s and Katt’s phrase - «jävla idiot». But anyway, as I said, I get why Mom came out to Vermont even if I didn’t need her to. But the way Rachel’s, Francesca’s, Tiffany’s, and Fatimah’s parents treat them just bugs me! Well, mostly it’s the moms, though Mr. Khan is the one who makes all the rules for their house.”

“So, just like your dad, then,” Suzanne countered.

“Stop interfering when I’m trying to work myself into a frothing snit!” I protested.

Suzanne laughed, “Sorry! But it is true. Your dad is in charge, and you, as rebellious as you like to think you are, do not want to disappoint him.”

“Duh! I love him to pieces!”

“And in other news, water is still wet!”

“Ha, ha,” I replied flatly.

“Do you think there’s a single person on the planet who doesn’t know how much you love your dad?”

“Well, to start with, a billion Chinese, a billion Indians, and a hundred million Indonesians!”

“How do you stay out of trouble at school?” Suzanne asked, laughing.

“Very carefully!” I declared. “Can I ask you a question?”

“As your dad says, you can always ask; whether I answer is up to me.”

“Do you know why Dad didn’t have sex with Ms. Czerwinski?”

“Whether I do or not, I can’t answer that question, young lady. It’s not appropriate.”

“Gawd you sound like Mom!”

“And your point is?” Suzanne asked with a silly smile.

“Ugh!”

“We need to get home so we can go to karate.”

We turned the corner at the end of the block and quickly walked home, got into our uniforms, then walked to the dojo with my dad, my moms, and my sisters.

September 18, 2001, Chicago, Illinois

“Mr. Felipe!” I squealed when I saw him at the dojo on Tuesday evening.

“Hello, «Tesoro»!”

“I was worried about you and you didn’t call to say you were safe!”

“Take your hands off your hips and speak respectfully, young lady,” Mom said sternly.

Moms! They did NOT get it! I had been worried about Mr. Felipe and he should have called sooner!

“I’m here now,” he said. “Safe and sound. Come, we need to go line up so we don’t get in trouble!”

I turned so that Mom didn’t see the face I was making. It didn’t do any good.

“Birgit Elizabeth,” Mom said, “that’s also not appropriate.”

She could go jump in the lake for all I cared! I moved to my place just behind the black belts, which meant I had to stand behind her. That was OK, because then I could look hot death at her. Or so I thought.

“Birgit Adams!” Sensei Jim said firmly. “Step out until your attitude improves.”

I knew if I rolled my eyes, I’d be in even MORE trouble, so I just moved to the back of the classroom. Dad gave me a disapproving look and I suddenly felt about two inches tall. I did my best not to scowl at Mom, and to show Sensei Jim a proper attitude. He assigned Sensei Will to work with the brown belts, most likely because of my bad attitude. There wasn’t anything to do except do my best to not get in any further trouble.

“Smooth, Birgit,” Suzanne said quietly to me after class. “Very smooth.”

“Let’s walk home together,” Dad said, taking my hand.

He’d obviously talked to Mom because she and Mom turned right with Suzanne and my sisters, while we turned left out of the dojo to take the long way home.

“What’s bothering you?” Dad asked.

“I don’t know,” I sighed.

“It’s not usually a Dad’s business, but does your period start soon?”

“Probably tomorrow, why?”

“I think you might be a bit on edge, and for teenage girls, hormones are often the cause. For boys, hormones usually result in doing dumb things to try to impress girls.”

“I don’t know. I just feel strange ever since last Tuesday.”

“I think we all do, Pumpkin. But that’s no excuse for acting the way you are. I want you to make an appointment with Aunt Sofia.”

“Why?”

“One possible use for birth control pills, besides preventing pregnancy, is to help regulate your period. I suspect you’re going to want them in the next year or two anyway.”

Hah! If he only knew! I didn’t need them to be with him because he’d had a vasectomy. But I couldn’t say that just yet. I knew if I did, he’d say ‘no’, and that would be final. I had to pick the time to ask him, and hope against hope that Katy was wrong. Of course, the Wicked Witch of the West would never allow it, so it might not matter if he agreed or not.

“Maybe,” I replied evenly, trying not to give anything away.

“There’s something you don’t know about Mr. Felipe, Pumpkin. He didn’t want it shared, and I’m going to tell you because I trust you to be responsible and to not disappoint me. You can’t speak about this to ANYONE, not even Mr. Felipe.”

“Why?”

“You’ll understand if I tell you, but I need your promise, as my daughter, to never mention this to anyone. Ever.”

“I promise,” I replied, meaning it.

“According to Brian and Howard, when the plane hit the Pentagon, Mr. Felipe was about a hundred yards away. Instead of running away, he ran to the damaged part of the building and helped people escape.”

“He’s a hero! Why doesn’t he want it told?”

“Because he doesn’t see it as being a hero. He simply did the right thing, and doesn’t want any special attention for it.”

“Wow!”

“So, do you think you might cut him just a little bit of slack?”

“Yes,” I replied, feeling really bad for giving Mr. Felipe a hard time. “But now I can’t apologize to him!”

“Sure you can, Pumpkin. Just apologize for how you spoke to him, for your hands on your hips, and the daggers you were looking at him.”

“I could.”

“May I tell you another secret?”

“Sure.”

“You look just like your mom when she’s not happy with ME!”

I laughed, “You realize you’ll be in as much trouble with her as I am if I tell her you said that!”

“Obviously!”

“Hmm...” I smirked.

“Forget it, Pumpkin. Any blackmail attempts will result in me going to your mom and confessing.”

“You’re a pain in the butt, Dad!”

I chuckled, “You’re the third person to tell me that in the past two days! Well, besides Aunt Penny who tells me that multiple times every day!”

“She might have a point,” I teased.

“There is a long, long history of girls telling me I’m a pain in the butt or a «jävla idiot», and for the most part, they’ve been right.”

“Did you really tell Suzanne and Natalie there’s no way to help Fatimah?”

“I did, but the main point was that Fatimah is not looking for help! Did Suzanne tell you what I said?”

“That ‘not for me’ doesn’t mean ‘not for anyone’.”

“Exactly. I know you don’t approve, but as I pointed out to them, there are lots of people in the world who think duty to family or to God requires them to act in a certain way. And if you really think about it, it’s the same for our family. This is just one of your specific hot buttons. And, honestly, that’s my fault.”

“Your fault? Why?”

“Because of how we’ve raised you. I don’t mean I’m wrong or that you’re wrong, but your view on sex and relationships is basically the one we’ve taught you. And the thing is, all seven of you have different views on it, none of which exactly mirror mine.”

“I don’t know,” I giggled, “two husbands sounds interesting!”

“OK, except for you, Pumpkin! But even then, what you think about sex and relationships isn’t identical to what I think. And you know Jesse has a different view. Stephie and Matthew are very similar to each other, but even there, we don’t know for sure how things will play out between Stephie and Nicholas.”

“I guess it bugs me that Fatimah doesn’t get to decide. Not really. I mean, yes, she says that’s what she’s supposed to do, but is that because she knows she doesn’t have a choice?”