Chapter 2: The World Turned Upside-Down

September 11, 2001, Chicago, Illinois

🎤 Steve

When we arrived back home, I saw Yousef walking across the street.

“Mr. Adams?” he called out.

“Yes?” I asked stopping to allow him to walk up to us.

“«As-salāmu ʿalaykum»,” he said. (“Peace be unto you.”)

“«Wa ʿalaykumu s-salām», Yousef,” I replied.

“My father is stuck in Boston and he’s concerned that people might come after Muslims because they’re blaming the attacks on a Saudi.”

I recalled what had happened with Aisyah and the fundamentalist in Los Angeles, and her comments about how people treated Muslims, as well as what had happened after the bombing of the World Trade Center, and realized that Amir might well be right.

“How can we help?” I asked.

“He said to ask you if there was any way we could stay with you until he comes home. He trusts you to protect us.”

“You know we don’t keep a «halal» house and there isn’t a real way to separate women from men.”

“He understands, but asks if you can make an accommodation. He’s actually very worried. Some policemen stopped him at the airport today and he was afraid he would be arrested.”

Given what we knew so far, that happening wouldn’t surprise me in the least. Amir was very obviously Middle Eastern, had a full beard, and did not hide the fact that he was Muslim, not that he should have to do so. I suspected no matter what else happened, over the next week, every single Muslim from the Middle East would be, at a minimum, questioned. A social panic wasn’t out of the question, and if a government was identified, every national of that country, naturalized or not, would be a target for not just the government, but for outraged citizens.

“He wasn’t arrested, though, right?” I asked.

“No. He had his identity papers and visa, as well as a letter of invitation, plus a round-trip ticket.”

“OK. Come over to the house and we’ll figure something out.”

“Thank you.”

He walked back towards his house and Suzanne and I went into mine.

“Do you think there’s a real risk?” Suzanne asked.

“I wouldn’t be surprised based on what happened after the first attack on the World Trade Center. Obviously, we don’t know enough yet, but they were throwing around the name of that Saudi national, bin Laden, pretty freely.”

We walked into the great room.

“Any updates, Albert?” I asked.

“How is grandpa?”

“He’s doing OK. Your mom is with him.”

“They’re saying it’s probably a group called al-Qa’ida, the group that attacked the USS Cole last year. Otherwise, nothing new.”

“What about that plane that was hijacked?”

“Landed safely in Canada. It appears to have been some kind of misunderstanding or communications problem.”

“OK. I need to talk to Kara.”

I went into the sunroom and asked Kara to come to my study. The girls, who had been cuddling with her, scowled but didn’t protest.

“How is Al?”

“My layman’s diagnosis is that he’s suffering from shock. Jess will take care of him. She’ll be home late and Al is staying with Malik and his wife.”

“Good.”

“There’s another thing,” I said. “Yousef stopped me on the way home. His dad is stuck in Boston and is concerned about anti-Muslim sentiment. He asked Yousef to ask if Yousef, Nada, and Fatimah could stay with us until Amir comes home. He was apparently questioned by the cops at the airport in Boston because he’s a Saudi Muslim.”

“More nonsense like after the first attack on the World Trade Center?”

“Yes. I told Yousef it was OK, but that we don’t keep «halal» and don’t really have a segregated place.”

“What if we put Fatimah and Nada in the room off the kitchen?” Kara suggested. “You lose your playroom for a few days or maybe a week, but otherwise, they have their own room, a bathroom, and the door from the kitchen locks. Yousef could sleep in the second bed in Albert’s room, and Nicholas could move to Jesse’s room. Jesse won’t object.”

“My playroom?”

“You and Natalie and you and Leah!”

“You know neither of those is a playmate! We’re not talking Mary Harrison or Debbie V!”

“True.”

“But that’s a good idea. Do we have any pork in the house?”

“I think there are chops and a roast in the deep freezer downstairs, and obviously there’s bacon in the fridge.”

“OK. I warned them, but we won’t make pork for dinner. That said, there is no way in this life on this planet I’m giving up bacon!”

Kara laughed softly, “Your girls agree with you. The big ones and the little ones!”

“The alleged ‘little’ ones aren’t so little! Birgit is an eighth-grader! And Stephie and Ashley are in sixth and fifth!”

“Are you trying to say I’m old, Snuggle Bear?”

“I’m two years older, so if you are, I am! And that makes Jess our ‘old lady’!”

“I double-dog dare you to say that to her!” Kara giggled. “Are the sheets clean?”

“Yes. And suddenly I’m very happy I had the hooks installed to cover the mirror!”

Kara laughed softly, “That might cause a bit of consternation with Nada and Fatimah!”

Kara helped me hang the silk cloth which covered the mirror and gave the impression of being a canopy, which made it unlikely either of the Khans would think it was hiding something rather than just being decorative. We had just finished when the doorbell rang. Kara and I went to answer it, and as expected, it was the three Khans. We greeted them, then led them to the room off the kitchen. As I knew was their preferred way, I addressed Yousef, not Nada.

“This has a private bathroom, and the door to the kitchen locks, so it will give your mom and sister a place they can be without worrying about any men. We’ll put you with Albert, if that’s OK.”

“Yes, it is,” Yousef replied. “Thank you! This will be perfect and my father will certainly be grateful.”

“Hopefully, he’ll be home soon,” I said. “I should probably talk to him.”

“I can give you his phone number,” Yousef said. “He’s just going to stay in the hotel room at the Westin until he can fly home.”

Which made sense given the concern he’d expressed to his son. He gave me the number which I keyed into the memory of my RAZR. Nada and Fatimah thanked us, then went into the room. Kara stayed with them, and I took Yousef to find Albert, who was still glued to CNN.

“Nothing new, Dad, except that the stock markets will be closed tomorrow,” he said. “Hi, Yousef!”

“Hi!” Yousef replied.

“Mr. Khan is stuck in Boston and asked us to watch out for his family, so Yousef is going to stay in your room and his mom and sister will stay in the nanny room. Nicholas can move in with Jesse temporarily.”

“Cool. Yousef, you can take your bag upstairs. The spare bed has the blue duvet.”

“Thanks!”

Yousef left and went upstairs, and I went to see the girls who were in the sunroom with Winter and Suzanne.

“The Khans are here for a few days,” I said. “Mr. Khan is stuck in Boston.”

“Fatimah can sleep in my room!” Birgit quickly offered.

“She and her mom are going to be in the nanny room so they can have some privacy.”

“Oh, please!” Birgit declared, rolling her eyes.

“We discussed this, Pumpkin. They get to decide how to live their lives. You’re welcome to go see them.”

“I will!” she declared, then scampered off.

I went to my study and used a landline to call Amir. Thankfully, the call went through and he answered on the second ring.

“«As-salāmu ʿalaykum», Amir Khan,” I said. “It’s Steve Adams.” (“Peace be unto you.”)

“«Wa ʿalaykumu s-salām», Steve Adams,” he replied. “Thank you for honoring my request.” (“Peace be unto you”)

“You’re welcome. How much trouble did the police give you?”

“Only a bit. They asked a few questions, but with my identity papers and the invitation from MIT, I think they were satisfied. They took my name, address, and phone number, then let me return to my hotel, obviously.”

“Good. You know about my business, so if you need an attorney for any reason at all, please call me. I remember what happened after the first World Trade Center bombing, and I think things will be worse.”

“If it is true that a Saudi national is behind this, I fear that I’ll be required to leave before my contract ends.”

Given that visas were basically discretionary acts by the government, and his visa didn’t make him eligible to be naturalized, that was a distinct possibility. I fully expected a strong reaction, including a likely declaration of war if a government was found to be involved. I didn’t think war was the correct solution, but President Bush was more likely than not to take that course of action.

“That I’m not sure I could do anything about, but if the police or FBI give you any trouble at all, please let me know so I can ask one of my attorney friends to help you.”

“Thank you.”

“And to set your mind at ease, your wife and daughter have a private area of the house, which is just off the kitchen. It has a bedroom and bathroom, and the door to the area has a lock.”

“I appreciate you honoring our culture and faith.”

“You’re welcome. Is there anything special you need me to do?”

“Beyond what you have done? No. Hopefully, there won’t be any trouble, but I prefer to be safe.”

“I understand. If you need anything, call me, please. Let me give you my mobile number.”

I did, we said ‘goodbye’, and then I hung up. I went back to the great room to join Jesse, Albert, Terry, and Andy and sat down next to Jesse.

“They said the President is going to speak at 7:30pm our time,” Jesse said. “And they’ve found a few survivors in the rubble.”

“That’s good. Do they have any idea how many died?”

“No. They said it could take days, but the Mayor of New York said ‘More than any of us can bear’ when they asked him. The news is speculating thousands. Do we know anything about your friends Ailea and Felipe?”

“No,” I replied. “I don’t have Felipe’s mobile number, and calls aren’t going through to New York, so I have no way of finding out about Ailea, or Abel, who works for NIKA.”

“Steve?” Winter asked, coming into the great room. “What do you want to do about dinner?”

“How about salad, spaghetti with meatballs, and garlic bread. The beef comes from the kosher butcher, so that won’t be a problem for the Khans.”

“OK. I’ll get started. Stephie volunteered to help. Should I include you and your kids, Terry?”

“No, we’ll go home. We should probably go now, actually.”

Terry gathered Andy and Amber and they left, and Ashley and Suzanne went to the kitchen. A few minutes later, Yousef came down and let Albert know he’d unpacked his things. Kara came in just then and sat down next to me.

“They’re settled. They’ll stay in the room and join us for dinner.”

“Sounds good.”

A short time later, we saw a smaller building, which was about 50 stories tall, begin to collapse. The commentators called it ‘7 World Trade Center’ and it, like the other buildings simply disintegrated into a pile of rubble. Just after, the commentators mentioned that Saint Nicholas Greek Orthodox Church had been destroyed by the collapse of the South Tower.

“I hope nobody was in the church,” Jesse said quietly, expressing my sentiment exactly.

Birgit came into the great room, and I could tell by the look on her face she was annoyed.

“Yousef, would it be OK if Fatimah came to my room with me? We won’t go on the internet or turn on the TV.”

He looked to me and I gave a slight shrug, indicating I had to leave it to him.

“I think that’s fine,” he said.

“Suzanne is talking with Mrs. Khan,” Birgit said. “So she won’t be alone.”

🎤 Birgit

“I can’t believe you need permission from your brother just to come to my room!” I said, once Fatimah and I were there.

“It’s important that my dad or brother approve of what I do. It keeps me safe.”

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes.

“Do you think I’m not safe? Or my sisters? That my dad and brothers don’t take care of me or watch out for me?”

“Well, no, I think you’re safe,” Fatimah admitted.

“I get to decide most things for myself, and that’s how it’s supposed to be!”

Fatimah shook her head, “No, it’s far too dangerous.”

“For whom?” I asked. “For your dad? I believe it! For you? No way!”

“What do you mean it’s dangerous for my dad?”

“Because he wants to control everything you do and treat you like property or a slave! You even have to marry who he tells you! That’s not right!”

“I don’t think we should talk about this,” Fatimah said.

“Can I ask you just one question, please?”

“I suppose,” Fatimah replied warily.

“Do you really want to marry a man you don’t even know and might not even like?”

“It’s not up to me,” Fatimah said. “Let’s talk about something else, please.”

“Do you want to see pictures from my trips to Europe?”

“Sure!”

I went to the bookshelf to get my photo albums, and then we sat on the loveseat. As we paged through the albums, I explained a bit about each picture or person. Fatimah was amazed at all the things I had done, and even more amazed when I told her about going to Vermont to be with Katy. I wanted to tell her she should be free to do the same things, but I was worried she’d say something to her mom or brother. I wouldn’t get in trouble, but it might cause problems for Dad, which was the last thing I wanted to do.

“Do you have photo albums?” I asked when we finished the first album.

“My dad has some pictures of the places he’s been, but we’re not allowed to have pictures of people.”

“What?! Why?”

“We’re not to make images of any person.”

“But what about TV and newspapers?”

“They are for information, so they are OK. A photo album would cause us to think improperly.”

“What do you mean? Remembering people?”

“Photos of those who have died make us sad.”

“No way! My dad has pictures of his friends who have died so he can remember the good things!”

“It’s forbidden.”

Of course it was! Forbidden by some guy in the seventh century who thought women were property, who married a nine-year-old, and spread his religion at the point of a sword. We had just finished the second of three photo albums when Stephie came up to tell us dinner was ready. We went downstairs and joined everyone in the dining room, including Jennifer and Josie. I almost rolled my eyes when Dad let Yousef pray, but when I thought about it, that wasn’t really any different from when Jesse would pray.

“What do you think is going to happen, Pops?” Jesse asked as we started eating.

“I think it all depends on who is behind this,” Dad replied, “and if it’s part of a larger plot.”

“You mean there might be more attacks?” I asked.

“Yes, there might be, but we need to go about our lives in as normal a way as possible. The entire point of terrorism is to disrupt the country and force us to change.”

“Change how?” I asked.

“Well, things like treating all Muslims badly or having a lot more security and losing some of our freedoms.”

“You mean, like new laws?” Albert asked.

“Yes,” Dad said. “But for now, we just need to go about our lives, and make sure our voices are heard about any new laws they might want to pass.”

“Mr. Adams,” Yousef asked, “do you blame Islam?”

Dad shook his head, “Not any more than I blame Christianity for what’s happening in Northern Ireland. I think there are people who twist religion to their own use, rather than follow the precepts. I don’t think your family is part of the problem.”

I wondered about that. While I didn’t think Fatimah would try to blow up our house, her dad seemed like a total control freak who might commit an ‘honor killing’ if Fatimah didn’t follow his rules. I wondered if there was any way she could stay in the US when her family went back to Saudi Arabia, but I knew it might be impossible because she wasn’t an American citizen.

Of course, as I thought about it, Mr. Khan wasn’t really any worse than Rachel’s mom or Francesca’s mom. And Dad had told me about how his mom had said she was the one to decide who he could marry. The difference was, Mr. Khan could actually do what he was planning to do in Saudi Arabia, while there was literally nothing Rachel’s or Francesca’s moms could do once they turned eighteen.

We finished dinner, and then Dad, Albert, and Jesse did the dishes. Dad called Sensei Jim, who said he’d canceled karate classes for the evening, and a bit later, we all listened to President Bush and also heard reports that there had been explosions in Kabul, Afghanistan, as well as anti-aircraft fire, but the US government denied that the US military had anything to do with the gunfire. Just before we decided to turn off the TV and use the sauna, some Congressman told CNN that the government had enough information to be sure the attacks were ordered by Osama bin Laden and his al-Qa’ida terrorist network.

The Khans couldn’t join us in the sauna, even if we wore towels, because they felt it was wrong for men and women to be together that way.

September 12, 2001, Chicago, Illinois

“Morning, Dad!” I exclaimed. “Cuddles?”

“Of course,” he replied.

I went to the chaise where he was reading the newspaper and climbed in, then snuggled close. Dad wrapped his arms around me and folded his paper so he could keep reading.

“Anything new?” I asked.

“Not really. We’ll turn on CNN after cuddles.”

“Is there school today?”

“No. I checked before Suzanne and I ran after I walked your mom to work.”

“Are you working?”

“A little bit from home, today. I think everyone will go back to the office tomorrow unless something else happens.”

“Do you really think so?” I asked nervously, afraid that he might be right.

“I do. The point of terrorism is to cause fear and uncertainty, and to disrupt our way of living, with a goal of forcing us to leave the Middle East, especially Saudi Arabia, and to end our support for Israel.”

“Dad, they also want to force us to be Muslims and force us to live like the Khans! There is NO WAY that I’m going to let you decide who I marry!”

“Then I suppose it’s the wrong time to tell you that Dave and I agreed you and Nicky would marry when you turn sixteen!”

I laughed because I knew he was teasing me.

“Oh, you did not!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!”

“I see. What if I said it was Kjell?”

I giggled, “I like him, a lot, but I am NOT marrying when I am sixteen!”

“That’s not even the worst part of what the terrorists want,” Dad said with a silly smile.

I thought for a minute then giggled again, “There is nothing on this earth that would make me give up bacon!”