Chapter 16

Life was finally beginning to improve as the Iraqi Army and National Police took over more of the routine peacekeeping duties and the American Army concentrated on running down imported insurgents. Although it had never been a pressing issue out in the desert, the peace that was slowly emerging made travel easier and less risky. I noticed the improvements as Zahrah and I made our way towards Amman, Jordan to enroll her in college, because the trip only took a little over three hours. It took two days for placement testing and registration, but Zahrah ended up a coed at the University of Philadelphia - Jordan, twenty miles west of Amman. Her first academic term would be filled with college prep courses, basic math and sciences mostly, but she now possessed a road map towards becoming a teacher and had the study material to prepare her for her first semester.

Zahrah and I had a nice room at the Radisson Hotel for two more days, so we shopped a little and honeymooned some. Zahrah seemed to be enjoying sex more, but she sure wasn’t in the same league as her sister. She seldom initiated sex and wasn’t interested in returning my oral attention. She was a cuddler though, and enjoyed sleeping with me each night. She also enjoyed being in public as my wife. She was a very attractive young woman in her new abayas and colorful hajibs. In addition, she carried herself with the natural grace that seemed to be inherent in her family.

While we were in Jordan, I made some discreet inquiries among the Americans living there about getting documents establishing me as an Iraqi. I finally worked my way up to meeting a young computer whiz that had a flair for dreaming up identities and bringing them to life. He made copies of my birth certificate, driver’s license and social security card, then took some passport type pictures of me. He also made copies of all the documents I had that once belonged to Hassan. I paid him a hefty twenty-five hundred dinar down payment, and he promised to have my new identity ready when I returned in two months.

Back at the farm, life continued at the easy pace that I loved. I was now attending market in al Warabi with Basheera one day a week. I liked the small town and the people I met there. They were honest and friendly folks, too busy scratching out a living in the harsh desert to bother with being bad neighbors. We were taking more vegetables and fruit to market nowadays, but were still selling out early in the day. The quality, freshness and price of our produce made us very popular with the owners of the town’s three restaurants.

After our produce was sold, Basheera and I strolled the market, looking for good deals. There was no predicting what would be available on any given day. Watching Basheera shop was entertaining for me only because I wasn’t the one having to negotiate with her. My senior wife gave new meaning to the term ‘driving a hard bargain.’ She calculated the price she was willing to pay for something and generally argued the seller down below it. If she couldn’t get something for what she valued it at, she walked away. I think half the merchants were scared to death of her, while the other half loved trying to best her in making a deal.

Just shy of eight weeks after I took Adara in for surgery, a white Range Rover pulled into the yard about four in the afternoon. I walked outside to see who it was, when the passenger door opened and Adara jumped out. I started tearing up when she walked towards me with a completely normal gait. I just stood there and raptly watched as she swayed towards me. Her smile was huge and her eyes literally danced with happiness. She threw her arms around my neck and kissed me with even more than her usual passion, right in front of everyone in the family. When I grudgingly let her break the kiss, she looked up at me, still smiling hugely.

“Your little desert flower is back, my husband, and all fixed up. What do you think?”

“I think you look wonderful and I am very happy you are home. How do you feel and why are you home early like this?”

“I feel very good, Neeko, my leg tires easily, but Aludra says it will get stronger as I use it more. The physical therapy went so well that I was released a week early. Aludra and Mother thought it would be a nice surprise to bring me home. Also, by driving me home, Aludra can see the farm and visit al Warabi.”

I nodded my understanding and looked up just as Aludra and Jamilah walked up. They were both beaming at me, pleased that their little surprise worked so well. They both kissed me too, nice kisses but much less intense than Adara’s.

That night, the newly improved Adara joined me in the harem room. After a two month sabbatical from sex, Adara was even more passionate than usual. When she finally realized that she couldn’t coax another round out of me, we had been at it for almost three hours. I was glad Aludra was there, because I actually thought my tongue and dick both needed splinting!

Adara must have cum at least twenty times, about half of them loud enough to raise the dead. When I dragged my carcass out to the main basement room to sleep, it was deserted. Adara thought it was just fine that we were alone, because she snuggled up next to me naked, with visions of letting me nap, then jumping my bones again.

The next morning I had to endure a ration of crap from my other wives and Aludra. I just hung my head as they went on and on about not being able to sleep in the cool basement because of Adara’s screaming. Adara was proudly unapologetic as she told them to get use to it, because she had some major catching up to do. I cleaned up and had a couple of cups of coffee before taking Aludra into town to show her around. She thought as I did that a clinic here would be a good thing for the community. I showed her the two buildings I was considering renting, but she said both were too small and antiquated.

“What we need is a facility built from the ground up to be a regional clinic. Maybe we could get the Iraqi government to build it,” she said.

“That would be nice, but I doubt if they’d build one just because we asked,” I replied.

“You never know, Altair Hassan, if you marry me, the Ministry of Health and Education might build us one,” she said.

“You already know I’d marry you in a heartbeat, but I don’t know why that matters to the government.”

“It doesn’t matter to the government, but it probably would to the Minister of Health and Education. After all, you would be finally making an honest woman out of his daughter,” she said.

As I stood there looking at her incredulously, she began to titter. “I’ll bet if you knocked me up right away, he’d build you a hospital,” she said with a giggle.

Aludra and I announced that we were marrying when we came home from town. Basheera, now the subject matter expert, cranked out a marriage contract in about fifteen minutes. My other wives then prepared Aludra for our wedding night, while I cooled my heels changing oil in the Kubota tractor. During the next couple of weeks, I was going to double the size of the date grove, so the tractor was going to get a workout. When they called me back in, I knew the drill. I showered alone and went downstairs to put on my Sultan costume. Jamilah was once again helping me dress. When I was all spiffed up, she gave me my last minute instructions.

“Remember, Neeko, that Aludra needs a firm hand, start your marriage off that way and you will not regret it later.”

I wondered what I was getting myself into as I nodded and headed towards the door.

It turned out that I was getting into something extraordinary. True to Jamilah’s prediction, Aludra wanted to dictate the terms of our sex life. I ignored her jabbering and turned her over my knee. Her squeals echoed off the walls as I reddened her cute little ass for her and set her back on her feet. It was an entirely different person standing before me rubbing her butt than I’d encountered when I walked into the room.

“There is only one man in the home of Altair Hassan, especially in the bedroom. Understand?” I said firmly.

“Yes, husband,” she replied meekly.

I think she started climaxing while I was still clamping the shackles on her wrists, and didn’t stop until I let her loose after a wild hour of sweaty jungle sex. She came the hardest when I ordered her to get rid of her birth control pills as I was pounding into her. Right before she fell asleep in my arms, she whispered sleepily into my chest. “I finally got it right,” she sighed.

Aludra went back to Kuwait to settle her affairs three days later. She took Fatima and Tahani with her, so Fatima could have her baby in the hospital where Aludra worked. I had the skills necessary to deliver a baby, but not the equipment if anything went wrong. I figured why take a chance if we didn’t have to. The morning that Aludra departed with Fatima and Tahani, Basheera and I moved Zahrah into the Philadelphia University dorm. We helped her set up her room and went to the local town to pick up everything else she needed. When we were sure she was comfortably moved in, I took Basheera to the Radisson and checked us in. Basheera was thrilled to be visiting somewhere besides al Warabi.

The next morning, I left her at the hotel while I went to meet with the fellow hooking me up with a new identity. As soon as I saw what he had done, I realized why he charged so much. The young man had done an amazingly thorough and masterful job. I now had official documents identifying me as Altair bin Saleem al Hassan, an Iraqi American born in Florida. My history even included correspondence to my ‘father’ from his cousin Abu Bakr al Hassan. I ended up spending over ten thousand dinar with the forger, but the final price included altering my passport to reflect my new name. The final item he provided me was a cheat sheet for me to memorize that summarized my new identity.

We stayed in Amman for one more day, then headed back to the farm. I would have enjoyed staying in Amman a few more days with Basheera, but I needed to be in Kuwait City in two days to be with Fatima during the final week of her pregnancy and the birth of our son.

My adventure came full circle when I stopped at the Iraqi border, presented my passport and stated my intent to immigrate back to the land of my ancestors. Basheera showed the guard her identification papers and explained that she was the widow of my cousin, and that I would be taking over the family farm.

The border guard touched the rim of his helmet in a salute of sorts and said, “Welcome home, Altair Hassan, may Allah bless and keep you.”