Chapter 25

When we came back out of the tunnel, Sayel and Yagyu were working on repairing the door, while Jennifer was sitting in a chair, supervising them. Or at least that’s what I thought was going on.

“Well, do you have that out of your systems now?” Jennifer’s voice was sharper than I’d ever heard from her.

I blinked, then said, “Excuse me?”

“Don’t you excuse me, Mister California Kalikulo Lewis! I asked a simple question, and I think I deserve the courtesy of a simple answer. Don’t you look at me that way, young lady! Just because you’re in college now doesn’t mean that I’m not still your mother!”

“Um, Mom? Cal and Dora saved an airliner full of people from crashing.”

“Evelyn Lynette Patrick, don’t you think I know that? No, I’m not talking about that. I’m not even talking about the effort it was for us to get six scared, screaming and crying children to calm back down enough so they could go back to sleep! I’m talking about the pity party that you were all having down in the basement, as it were.”

Beth shook her head. “I don’t...”

“You stop right there! You’re still the same Elizabeth Wendy Watson that I taught third grade. You’re still the same Elizabeth Wendy Watson that I watched grow up into a beautiful young woman! You got this idea in your head when you were little you were an ugly duckling, and let kids make you an outcast. You were right, country kids can be mean and cruel, but the three of you have always been the female version of Athos, Porthos, and Aramis.”

Jennifer stood up, then pointed a finger at me. “He’s a pain in the ass at times, and I don’t mean when he hits the wrong hole. He’s a seventeen year old boy. By default, he’s an idiot! It doesn’t matter whether he’s the smartest man in the world or not. It doesn’t matter whether you have super powers so instead of just pretending in your mind that you’re Carol Danvers, you can actually act like her. None of you ... not a one of you ... have even half the life experience of Saryu, or Niranjana, or Jasveer, and they’re only a couple of years older than you! We’ve all been concentrating on the stud muffin and making sure he grows up, because he’s male and we all know how slow they are to develop. Elizabeth, when were you going to grow up?”

“Excuse me?”

“Do I need to speak slower? I’m sorry, I thought you were the second most intelligent person on the planet. When were you going to grow up?”

I could see that Beth was starting to get mad. “Um, Jennifer...”

“Shut it, Lover Boy! This is between me and my daughter.”

Beth’s head jerked at that.

“Oh, you didn’t know that, did you? If Esmeralda was here, she’d tell you the same thing. Elspeth knew she wasn’t going to make it out of that hospital. She asked both of us to watch over you, to treat you like you were our daughter, because as good a man as Harry is, he’s still a man. We both swore to her, literally on her deathbed, that we’d take as good a care of you as we could. I’ve been letting her down.”

Beth’s eyes softened. “No.”

“Yes, I have. We made sure that the three of you stayed friends, when you tried to shut yourself off from the world. You remember all those times you were at one of our houses learning how to cook? You don’t think that was by accident, do you? Elspeth couldn’t know that I would come down with cancer right when you needed a mother’s help the most. Esmeralda hasn’t said anything to you because it looked like you were doing okay, but she’s not as close, doesn’t share a bed, doesn’t share a man with you. She didn’t know how we were failing you, how we were letting all three of you down.”

“Mom? You’re not letting any of us down.”

“What was Elizabeth just complaining about? She got yelled at by her husband. Did he do it because he was mad at her, angry at some wrong she’d committed? Not in the least. Did he get mad at her because she’s useless, which is how she feels right now? Again, not in the least. You. Are. Not. Mizz. Marvel! Those are comic books! Made up stuff, for entertainment. The hero always wins! This is the real world. It’s a parent’s job to raise their children so they can face the real world. Well, our real world, the one we face by being a part of this family, is different from what every other family faces. There are three other family groups that come close to knowing what we face. The family of someone in the military serving in a combat zone, the family of a fireman, and the family of a policeman. They know what the real world is, that they could hug their father or husband or brother goodbye and then never see them again! It’s something that they have to keep inside, to not let that fear show, and more importantly, to never let that fear consume them.”

Jennifer looked at me, then sighed. “You’re really not to blame. I know, I’m not your mother, I’m your wife.” She paused. “Well, technically, I’m your mother-in-law, too, but that goes down a road none of us want to explore too deeply. It’s so easy for all of us to forget that even by your own cultural standards, you’re not an adult yet. Here, we base it on calendar age, because once you get there, you’re assumed to be mature enough. You’re so intelligent, but you don’t have the wisdom to go with it. If you did, you’d have known that ordering Elizabeth to stop was the wrong thing to do. You’re not her military commander, you’re her husband, her lover, and her best friend, even more so than she is with Dora and Eve. You didn’t just hurt her feelings, you destroyed them. I know you did it out of concern and out of love, even if she doesn’t.”

Beth now looked confused, which caused Jennifer to smile. “That’s where you don’t have enough life experience, Beth. You thought he yelled at you because he didn’t want your help, that he was taking your place in the one group you have, the ‘Angels.’ How many ‘Angels’ are there?”

“Three.”

“You heard Dora, the same as I did. What’d she say?”

“We can’t have four trails for the satellites to ... Oh, my God, I’m so stupid!”

“No, you’re a young woman, on the cusp of being a fully grown woman, with something that someone your age should never have. Responsibilities to others that are beyond anyone’s normal ken. All three of you are at that point in your lives. There’s a difference between you and your sisters. They’ve not let it consume them.”

“So, what do I do? What do we do?”

“Give your man a hug and a kiss, because you won’t be here when he gets home. All three of you. Just because my daughter came up with the idea doesn’t make it a bad one, after all. We never got the vacation in Kansas this summer. Margie and I don’t need it. Everyone else is good here. The three of you? Cal’s first game is just over a month away, Helen’s due date is just over two weeks out. Go talk to her, but the three of you need some time to decompress. You need time to go skipping rocks across a pond, or taking the sheets out into the backyard and making forts out of the benches. Go skinny dipping in the river, for that matter. It wouldn’t be the first time.”

Eve blanched. “You knew about that?”

Jennifer smirked. “You were safe. Gwendolyn’s son was just upstream, fishing, when you did it. He made sure no one bothered you, and then made sure his mother told me about it, too, so no one would get the wrong idea. Hutchinson is a lot bigger than Yoder, but we’re still a small town, young lady.”

The three girls all lined up and gave me hugs and kisses, then headed into the house to pack their bags.

I looked at Jennifer and simply raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t try to pull that on me, young man!”

I shook my head. “No. Never that. Damn, when did you go from being my wife to sounding just like my mother? Not that I have a suppressed Oedipus complex or anything like that, even if you’re also my mother-in-law.”

“Come here,” she said, opening her arms for me. I walked into them, allowing her to wrap me in a big hug. “I know you don’t have a problem with older women, because all of your women are older than you are. At least here, for legal purposes, and there’s no reason to consider anything else. Emily isn’t even four months older than I am. Kennedy was assassinated less than two weeks before my twentieth birthday. I’m your wife and your woman, don’t ever doubt that. If I’d started early with Margie, I’m literally old enough to be everyone’s mother. You heard Ginny and Robert talking about their arguments. It’s okay to get angry with your spouse, but when you use a command tone with them as the husband, it better be because someone is literally shooting at you or you’re about to wreck your car, something serious. I know what you’re thinking even without being Beth or Hannah. Wasn’t saving the people on the plane serious?”

She shook her head. “You’re not God, either. I’m not saying it was a bad thing that you and Dora saved those people. Far from it. In the grand scheme of things, though, if you’d taken an extra ten seconds and simply said something along the lines of, ‘Beth, if you and Eve want to follow us, just not so fast such that you’re going to leave flaming trails across the sky, come ahead,’ there wouldn’t have been any drama when you got home. Did you even ask her why they were delayed?”

“No. I just knew they’d gotten caught up getting out of bed.”

“Exactly. When Eve hopped up, she accidentally broke Margie’s left arm. They took the time to make sure Margie was healed properly before following.”

I closed my eyes, then opened them again. “Ah, shit. I need to apologize to Beth.”

“You’re right, you do. But not today. Not until she gets back. Eve ... I’m proud of her. Dora called her their ‘rock’ before, and now that she’s gotten even more education, she’s shown to me just how grown-up she really is. If Helen wasn’t your High Priestess and your conscience, I think Eve would do an excellent job with that. No, what you need to do is get in there, get dressed for your football practice this morning, and then give all the rest of your wives that are here a kiss to let them know you love them.”

I nodded, letting her finally slip her arms down.

From where they’d been rather quietly working in the background, Sayel said, “Master, I think that if you are killed defeating Shiva and my Jasmine also died, I would ask Mistress Jennifer to marry me. I am like Yagyu, in that even if you die, I will remain with and guard your family until my death. But Mistress Jennifer is the first woman in the Western World that I have ever met that sounds like my Jasmine, even if the two of them look nothing alike.”

“Sayel, I’m definitely not old enough to be your mother,” Jennifer said with a chuckle.

“No, you are not. But you are so wise, you do not sound or act like a typical Western woman.”

“Sayel, I will simply take it for the compliment that you intended it to be, and let it drop, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course, Mistress Jennifer. Obviously, I would prefer nothing to happen to my Master at all. If I may say so, working for him is fun.”

“Thank you. On that note, I’m going to get to football practice.”

I simply went further into the house, put my uniform away, and got into my clothes to wear to practice. Then I went into our bedroom, where at least some of my wives were still laying in bed.

Margie turned her head and opened her eyes. She raised a hand off the bed and beckoned me over. I carefully crawled onto the bed so I wouldn’t wake the women that were still sleeping. She quietly whispered, “Closer.” I brought my head up to hers.

“Get HIM!”

I was suddenly attacked by eleven women wielding pillows. I let them hit on me for a couple of minutes, then held up my hands.

“I surrender!”

“Damned right you do. Don’t ever let that happen again. I still want to wake up and see your face the first thing every morning, not have Beth treating my arm like spaghetti noodles. That hurt.” She paused, then took a deep breath. “Water under the bridge. Give those of us who are here a kiss, then get some breakfast if you still have time and get to football practice.”

“I just got mothered by Jennifer. You’re not old enough to do that!”

“Wife’s prerogative,” Marcia said. “You’re just lucky we know why things happened like they did, or I don’t think a single florist would be able to help you get out of this one.”

Helen chuckled at that comment.

“What’s so funny, oh distended bellied one?” Marcia asked.

“You looked like that not that long ago, so don’t go calling names when you know you’d like to be in that position again. No, it’s that not a one of us actually like getting flowers. Something live, to plant that’s decorative? Sure. But cut flowers are a waste.”

“I don’t mind a corsage or something like that, as an accessory, of course. But I did grow up in a different environment,” Diana chimed in.

Jasveer chuckled. “Something useful, like herbs, are wonderful.”

“We’d better finish giving him kisses, or he’s going to be late for practice,” Hannah said.

I was still a couple of minutes later getting into the locker room to get dressed, but since I was quite adept at putting things on, I made it out onto the field five minutes before we would start. That was only to find that Coach Elway, John, and I wouldn’t be practicing this morning. We got sent back into the locker room to put on new jerseys and get our hair combed. We were going to have our first press conference of the season.

Coach Elway was waiting for us outside of the conference room.

“Good morning, gentlemen. Before we go in, a few things. This press conference was already set up before anything recent happened. While our first game is still a month away, the actual season starts in two weeks. Mister Geiger is already in the room at the front table, Cal. I know you haven’t met him yet. There is also a representative from the NCAA in the room as well. He’s simply there to be a neutral party, but if something odd comes up – which, we expect, to be honest – he’ll be able to answer the question. If Mister Geiger says to let the NCAA answer it, then please allow him to do so. When they tell us to go in, we’ll enter, take our seats at the front table, and then I’ll make a statement. After that, the reporters will be allowed to ask any of us questions. Yes, I expect the bulk of the questions will go to Cal, so please don’t allow that to bother you, John. Also, please put your helmets on the table so the Stanford logo shows. That way, it’ll be right in any pictures they take of you. Questions?”

“Just one, Coach. Why am I here, instead of getting some reps in practice?”

“Mister Paye, you’re still one of the offensive leaders of this team. You’re an experienced college quarterback. Why are you here?”

“So Greg and Fred can get reps for the whole practice, which is something they wouldn’t normally get. There’s always a chance that both of us could have an injury, or politely, Cal could get called away for some Federation stuff, because that is more important than being our quarterback.”

Elway grinned. “Mister Paye, how dare you commit sacrilege? Oh, wait. We all know that Mister Lewis’ Federation stuff is more important.”

“That’s why I have my other team, Coach. I don’t think either Hannah or Helen are going to make it to their due dates. At least with three points of data from the first babies being born. And no, I’m not stupid enough to refer to them as points of data.”

Both Jack and John laughed at that, with John then saying, “You do that, and I will end up being our starting quarterback, while you audition for the Vienna Boys Choir!”

It would figure that the door opened just then, with the three of us laughing our asses off. Coach led us into the room, even so.

“As you can see, we have a quite enjoyable program here at Stanford, where our staff and players have a great relationship. Let’s welcome Coach Jack Elway, Cal Lewis, and John Paye to the stand.”

We walked up to the seats with grins on our faces, still chuckling. John and I put our helmets on the table in front of us as we all sat down.

“Ladies and Gentlemen of the press, Coach Jack Elway.”

Elway stood up. “Thank you, Mister Geiger. For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Jack Elway, Coach of the Stanford Cardinal football team. These are our two starting quarterbacks, Cal Lewis and John Paye. I invited the two of them here today as they are the leaders for the Cardinal this fall. As many of you are aware, there is intense debate going on as the fall football season starts in a little over two weeks, even though due to our actual school schedule, we don’t play our first game for another month. Both the AP and the Coaches Poll will release their preseason results prior to the Brigham Young against Boston College game, which is the first game of the season, and probably one of the few games that some of the coaches from conferences east of the Rockies will bother to watch. That’s a shame for Barry Switzer at Oklahoma and Pat Dye at Auburn. They haven’t even bothered to do their research. Not like Ted Tollner with the Trojans or Terry Donahue with the Bruins. Nope, those two are going to be just like every other coach in the Big Eight, the SEC, and the Big Ten and wondering how, in my second year as head coach of the Cardinal, my team won the Pac-10 conference and finished the season in the number one spot on the AP Poll.”

The calm and collected way Coach Elway spoke and made his pronouncement took a lot of the reporters by surprise, with nearly all of them sitting back in their chairs. But not all of them.

“Coach Elway, Jule Campbell, with Sports Illustrated. You’ve been able to practice for only a month, due to NCAA rules. While I fully understand that Mister Lewis is quite capable of handling yours, or any offense, he can’t carry the whole team. How can you be so sure of yourself?”

“Miss Campbell, just curious, before I answer your question. You’re not the regular reporter we have from Sports Illustrated. I know what your position was earlier this year with them, and what a success you were with them.”

She grinned. “No, I didn’t get a demotion to being a reporter. I’m now the Managing Editor for all West Coast operations. With our expectations for Stanford this coming year, it was decided to put me here, just in case we might get more exclusive news stories, in addition to our sports coverage. I actually bumped the reporter that was scheduled to cover this press conference. He has much less faith in you than I do.”

Elway nodded. “Thank you for your candor. I’ll tell you why I’m sure of myself, which Ted and Terry both already know. As our esteemed NCAA representative knows, we are not allowed to begin organized practices more than two months prior to our first game. That means that other than our simple football tryout for qualified freshman in January, no member of the coaching staff has held any practice with any member of this year’s team prior to Monday, July 15^th. That did not mean we could not suggest exercises or diet for the team members to follow prior to the start of organized practice, and we did so, just like every other team does. However ... Mister Paye, why am I sure?”

“It’s simple, Coach. That tryout was on Saturday, January 19^th. The Super Bowl was played in our stadium the next day. The following Monday, January 21^st, forty-four of the forty-five members of the Stanford Cardinal met, without any members of the coaching staff or athletic department present or with their influence, and made a pact. We began working out with our teammates that day. Our goal was that when July 15^th rolled around, we would all be in the best possible physical shape that we could be in. Not a one of us missed a single day. Seven days a week, for six months, we all worked out, on our own and as a team. July 15^th rolled around and every single Cardinal was ready to go. We started full speed, full contact practice last Monday.”

That comment got some murmurs from the collected reporters.

Elway said, “That’s why I’m sure, Miss Campbell. Two weeks to learn our playbook, and we’re practicing it now. If we had to play a game this Saturday, I would put the Cardinal up against any team in this country right now. Our entire offense and our defense are ready to, as the phrase goes, leave it all on the field. Right now.”

“Thank you, Coach,” Jule said.

“Ray Ratto, San Francisco Chronicle. That all sounds well and good, but perhaps you can explain to me and my readers how you can be so confident when by Stanford’s own rules, one of your players at that table isn’t eligible to play this year?”

“I’m not exactly sure what you’re talking about, Mister Ratto.” He pronounced ‘Ratto’ just like rat toe, and not raw toe, which I thought was interesting.

“It’s quite simple, Coach, and is the reason that you don’t have any incoming freshman on your team, or you didn’t, anyway. In addition to the normal NCAA eligibility rules, which I’ll ask about in a moment, Stanford also requires all prospective football players to take eight degree applicable units of study in the Fall Quarter in order to be eligible for the next season. That’s why Stanford never has Freshman on their team, because incoming students can’t have taken any classes. By Stanford’s rules, Mister Lewis isn’t eligible to play football because he didn’t take any classes last Fall Quarter.”

“Ah, I can see where something as simple as academic eligibility might cause someone like yourself confusion. It’s not like picking out which one of Baskin-Robbins flavors is your favorite, after all, since you’ve never met an ice cream cone you didn’t like. I do hope that chair is strong enough to support you. But I also know you’ve never liked me, which is fine, the feeling’s mutual. However, just as your sports predictions are normally off the mark, so is your research on this. Doctor Lewis was not enrolled at Stanford during the Fall Quarter. I’m certain you’re quite familiar with the process of testing out of classes. Prior to his enrollment for the Winter Quarter, Doctor Lewis tested out of the requirements for awarding him Doctorates in both Economics and Political Science, with the actual awarding of those degrees in April. Of course, that wouldn’t matter in any event, as he was enrolled at Hutchinson Community College in the fall of 1984.”

“In that case, he’s a transfer student, and isn’t eligible!”

“Not if you actually complete the classwork you’re taking, which he did, graduating on December 20^th of last year. Of course, the minor detail that he didn’t play sports at Hutchinson Community College renders your entire argument moot. Doctor Lewis, how many degrees were you awarded by Hutchinson Community College?”

“Fifteen Associates Degrees, Coach!”

“Then if he’s got his Doctorate, that just means he’s already done with his college, and isn’t eligible!”

Coach simply pointed to the NCAA representative.

He stood up. “I’m not exactly sure how you’re considered qualified to be a sports writer when you appear to know nothing about sports, or at least nothing about college football. First off, each college or university uses NCAA rules to set up their own minimum guidelines for eligibility. They are allowed to be stricter than what we require, but never less strict. In the case of Stanford’s requirement that players must take classes in the fall to play the next year, that’s their requirement, not ours. They can issue however many waivers to that requirement they want, if one was needed. In this case, none would be needed, as Mister ... pardon me... Doctor Lewis wasn’t even enrolled here in the fall as a student-athlete. NCAA transfer rules apply to student-athletes, not students. Doctor Lewis was still in high school, and simply taking advanced junior college classes for credit during the fall semester while he was primarily enrolled at Hutchinson High School. The minor detail is that when he enrolled here at Stanford, he had already taken and received more credits at Hutchinson Community College than any incoming freshman possibly could receive here. Doctor Lewis graduated from high school on December 20^th of 1984. He has five years of eligibility to participate in NCAA athletics. Simply put, so long as he remains enrolled in college, Doctor Lewis can play until December of 1989. Completing the requirements for a four-year college degree in advance of that time frame is not disqualifying, as graduate students can still play under their five years of eligibility if they chose to do so.”

“Thank you,” Elway said. “Oh, and just to throw this out there. Cal, how many actual degrees from Stanford do you have right now?”

“Four Doctorates, six Master’s, fourteen total Bachelor’s.”

“Thank you, Cal. Now, is there someone who has a question that doesn’t also have an agenda?”

“Bill Dwyre, LA Times. Mister Paye, you said that only forty-four members of the Cardinal made a pact to exercise and be ready. Why not everyone?”

“It wasn’t necessary for him. During his tryouts for the team, he bench pressed five hundred pounds for twenty reps, without any issues, so we already know he’s in shape.”

“Bullshit! There’s no way one of your linemen could do that!”

“You’re right. But it wasn’t a lineman, Mister Dwyre. It’s our starting quarterback.”

Coach Elway had apparently been expecting this to come up. “If you’ll look in the back of this room, we just happen to have a weight bench sitting back there. Anyone care to walk back there and check it out, before Cal’s demonstration?”

Ratto got up and waddled to the back of the room, as did three others. They examined the weights on the bar, checked to make sure that things were normal, and they even got on both ends of the bar and picked it up. I was almost concerned that Ratto was going to hurt himself, his face was so red.

“Satisfied? Good. Cal, if you would, and please don’t strain yourself.”

“Jule, is Allison here?” I asked.

“Back here, taking pictures,” the Sports Illustrated photographer replied.

“These ought to be good for you.” I didn’t realize that there were a couple of television sports reporters with cameras present as well. I ‘clacked’ to the back of the room – I was wearing my cleats since I’d dressed for practice – laid back on the bench and wiggled into position. Things were already adjusted for me, so I took in and blew out a couple of deep breaths simply for drama, then made a grunting noise as I picked the bar up. I purposely made my arms quiver a little, then turned to look at the triumphant grin on Ray’s face.

“What? You look like you think this is tough, or something?” With that, I then started lowering the bar and raising it again, counting out each repetition. When I got to twenty, I didn’t stop, and knocked out thirty. In a complete violation of weight room rules, I let the bar clang into the stops. Then I hopped up, went around to the back side of the bench, wrapped my hands around the bar, picked it up to my chin, and raised it over my head. I stepped back from the bench, and then did ten squats, with the bar still held over my head, before putting it back on the stops. Then I walked back up to my seat, running my hand through my hair to get it back into place.

The room was quiet for several seconds, then a reporter raised his hand. Elway nodded.

His accent immediately gave away where he was from. “Bruce Wilson, the Herald, from Melbourne, Australia. A couple questions, if I may. Your Majesty, I certainly realize that you were born and raised here in the United States. Having said that, with so many of your subjects having been raised with sports influenced by England, have you given thought to potentially also playing rugby, cricket, what you Americans call soccer while the civilized world knows it as the proper football, or even our own Australian Rules Football?”

While most of the American sports reporters looked puzzled, I noticed that Jule did not, having a grin on her face at the question.

I leaned back in my chair, with a slight frown upon my face. “That is actually a good question, Mister Wilson, that we have not considered. Certainly the Stanford Athletic Department is well aware that one of our wives plans to play basketball here this fall, as Her Highness would like that opportunity. Stanford has restrictions upon both male and female basketball players, especially in regards to their summer practices. Similar to football, they are primarily designed to make certain that student-athletes actually complete their four year undergraduate degree. Since that is not necessary, as Her Highness has already received three Bachelor’s and two Master’s degrees during her first two quarters of attendance here at Stanford, we are certain that there will be no objections. We bring the situation of the Princess Evelyn up simply as it is similar to our own.

“At least some of you are aware, we were basically home schooled, and as such, did not receive the normal cultural acclimation to group sporting events that a child of Lahore or the closest large town to our Australian realm, Alice Springs, would have. The younger sister of the Princess Helen actually said that American football should be called Hand Egg, as to her, a true football is round. We find it amusing that she will be the quarterback for her High School Junior Varsity American football team this next year. In any event, our upbringing was such that American Football was the first team athletic sport we attempted. While we have not participated in any of those other team sports, we would have no objections to learning them for enjoyment and entertainment. However, due to our current scholastic and athletic schedule, as well as corporate and political events, we make no promises as to when or if that will occur.”