Chapter 20: Resolutions

That night, el-Azizi held Anderson tightly as he finally let some of his emotions loose that he’d kept buried, comforting him as he cried because he was again feeling the mental effects of his memories from service in Iraq. The final words before they both fell asleep between them were to tell each other they loved the other.

The exercise period the next morning wasn’t quite the repeat of what it’d been when the first group had come through. There were still several instances of correction needed for the new guests. They were then lined up for actual shaving of their underarms and pubic hair, with about a third of the existing guests getting their stubble removed as well. The four new privates were assigned this chore. Since they’d all already been clippered, there was no need for anyone to meet Epps’ fate. Anderson left running this to Jackson, while he went back to his quarters.

After showering, Anderson looked at el-Azizi, stretched out on the bed while he was getting dressed. “Thank you for last night, Zuhra. I’ve kept a lot of things inside that I couldn’t let go of before I met you. I’d appreciate it if you’d do me a favor.”

Puzzled, she said, “If I can, Charles. I don’t have a lot of things I can do while I’m in here.”

“The picture in my drawer. Take it, and give it to Corporal Connors, to put in with your personal effects. I don’t want to lose it, by any means. But I don’t need it ... I don’t need the memory of her ... to give me and my life meaning. Not anymore. She was my fiancée, and I think she’d approve of you. I know I do. I want her picture in your things, not because you’ve replaced her in my heart, but because you’ve joined her there. When we’re done with this war, I’d be honored if you’d agree to be my wife.”

She leaped off the bed, ran to him, wrapped her arms around him and kissed him deeply. When they had to break due to needing to breathe, she said, “I’m not going to ask you for a ring. Not now, not in here. But when we’re out, then, yes, I’ll gladly wear your ring and be your wife. And ... depending upon how things turn out, especially after last night, bear your children.”

“Um, what?”

She laughed. “Charles, dear. A woman is most fertile halfway between periods. It’s possible you knocked me up last night.”

“Well, at least I proposed before that came up.”

When the two of them were going through the line, Pearlina looked at them and said, “Congratulations, both of you!”

“Um, what?” Anderson said.

“I don’t need to see no ring on a woman’s hand to know that her man done tole her he wants to marry her, or to tell that she said ‘yes.’ You’s goin’ to wait till we’s out of here, ain’t ya?”

Surprised, Anderson said, “Yes. To use a phrase I haven’t said in a long time, God willing and the creek don’t rise, that won’t be too long. Oh, and Pearlina? I wouldn’t worry too much if I were you about a possible future when you and your staff are released. I know someone who would hire you in an instant for their personal chef, or provide financial backing so you can open your own restaurant.”

Stepping back from the table, Pearlina pulled her wipe rag up. “Pardon me, Sir. I think I got somethin’ in my eyes.”

“It’s okay, Pearlina. Sometimes the dust can get to you, here in Oklahoma.”

They quickly left her to get her emotions under control. Leaning over and whispering, el-Azizi said, “I knew you were a good man, Charles Anderson.” Then she squealed a little as he gave her a squeeze on the butt.

They went to his office for a bit, so he could do some more computer work, before the morning staff meeting. He printed out several documents, having Zuhra collate them, for handouts.

Once in the meeting, he hooked his computer into the projector. “I do so hate doing this, because death by PowerPoint is such a joke, but we’re going to have a busy meeting. Where are our new privates?”

“They’re finishing up breakfast, Sir. It wasn’t the shaving of the new guests that delayed them, it was getting two-thirds of the current population shaved again that slowed them down this morning,” Jackson said.

“That’s something I didn’t take into consideration, actually. I won’t pass that duty on to the Latin Lesbians, they’d enjoy it too much. How’d you get them to agree to be guides yesterday?” Anderson asked.

“They volunteered, Sir. We’ve got quite the little community here. I’ve had several of them women asking if it’s possible for us to get flower seeds, or vegetables. They figure they’re going to be here for a while, because they can’t see Washington giving up easily, and would like to make the camp look better,” Hawk said.

“Well, that takes care of page two,” Anderson replied with a chuckle. As he said that, the female privates all came in and took seats.

“So, before I get started this morning, any comments from the psychological side of the enlisted ranks here about yesterday?”

“A question, basically,” Hunter said. “What happens to the body?”

Hawk chuckled. “I trade it with the local Indians for fresh meat for the chow hall. You’d be surprised at how many eggs or pounds of bacon or sausage we go through every day, not to mention the other fresh food Shaun or I pick up daily.”

“Um, yeah, but what do the Indians do with it?”

“Cut the hair off, so they can use that for ceremonial stuff, pull the teeth out, and then feed it to their hogs. Don’t worry, I make sure they don’t give it to the hogs they butcher for us, they feed it to the pigs that they sell to the meat packing plant.”

While two of the women changed color, none of them vomited.

Bailey said, “I’m not going to say that’s gross, but damn, that’s...”

“Diabolical,” Anderson said. “Thank you. That’s also why the eight women we kicked out are their slaves, too. Anyway, now that we’re all here, let’s get things started. Zuhra, if you’d pass out the handouts I prepared ... thank you. So, since it’s rather obvious we’re both successful, and I think we’re going to be used as the model for all the similar camps for after the war, here’s what I propose...”

“Dad, I’ve got a question for you.”

The elderly man sitting at a computer looked up from it. “Yes, CJ, what can I help you with this afternoon?”

“I’m just wondering something. I’m working on a report regarding the Second Civil War for my History and Moral Philosophy class. I know you and Mom met during the war, fell in love, made me, then got married later on. I was just wondering why the calendar worked out that way?”

“Well, we were sort of busy winning the war at the time, so there really wasn’t much of a chance for an actual ceremony. We also didn’t have a chaplain at our camp, either. At our ages, it really didn’t matter to us a whole lot one way or the other, anyway. One thing I do regret is that we didn’t meet up before we did, so I could’ve been more active with you while you were younger,” his father said.

“I don’t think I would’ve been the same person then, though. I would’ve grown up during the crazy times. Heck, I might’ve even been one of the people you had to help.”

Chuckling, the old man said, “Help? Is that what they’re calling it your class?”

“No, but I wasn’t sure if actually asking you about psychologically reprogramming so many civilians would be the way to discuss things. Especially since they didn’t say in class how you managed to pull it off, only that you did so.”

Anderson spent the next three hours telling his eldest son what had happened during the first several weeks of the camp. “Then, we set up tents for the ‘graduates’ of the program on the outside of the wire so they would have someplace to stay, which ended up becoming a small town in and of itself. Except, of course, for those that didn’t want to graduate, because they wanted to keep helping us with others.”

“Why would they do that?”

“The psychologists called it guilt. They said they felt like they had acted wrongly in the past, and were wanting to make up for it. Oh, not the ones who actually were my female troops, they knew the truth. Of course, we could always ask someone else.” He pushed a button. “Missus Lincoln, could you please come to my study?”

In less than a minute, the door opened and a black woman walked in. “Missus Lincoln, CJ is studying the patriotism camps in school. Tell me, instead of moving out with the graduates, why did you stay to keep helping?”

“It’s quite simple, Sir. Pride in our accomplishments. I learned more in the year I was resident in that facility than I had in all the time I had spent in Kansas beforehand. I was taught to be responsible for my own actions, to take accountability for both myself and what I did, and more importantly, I also learned a trade that I could use to earn a living once the hostilities concluded. When I was released, my husband and I moved to the city so I could work as one of the line chefs in the initial restaurant, while he went back to his civilian job. CJ, when my Gerald was killed in a car accident, your father offered me the position of chef for your family, since by that point in time, it was obvious to he and your mother they were going to be doing quite a lot of entertaining. He paid for me to continue the education I’d started as well, just as he’s helped many of us since then.”

“Wow, I had no idea, Rickilee.”

“Of course not. He was silent partner with opening the first ‘Pearlina’s Fine Dining Establishment’ in Bricktown, and helped me with property leases and other items so that all nine of my restaurants in Kansas, Oklahoma, and Texas are incredibly successful. He’s kept quiet about many of the things he’s done over the years, but those of us who were in his first class ... we know, we remember, and we’re forever grateful to him.” She smiled, then added, “Even if we was just some stupid idjits that didn’t know no bettuh, and wanted to kick his white ass!”

That made the old man laugh, then cough a bit when it got too much for him.

“Sorry about that, Sir. I forgot about your lung damage.”

“It’s okay, Rickilee. If I can’t laugh about it, then I may as well go find the Indian hog farm.”

“You really killed those women, and then they fed them to the pigs?” his son asked.