Chapter 11

The woman next to Amud did not offer her hand. I did not extend mine. She stood two feet behind and to the side of her husband throughout the introduction, her eyes to the floor.

He said something I didn't understand, and I was rewarded with a blinding smile from the eyes of the woman as she looked up for the first time. Her eyes were all that was visible of her face, just above her 'Arabian Nights' veil. Most interesting.

Amud spoke to her and she replied in a firm clear voice. I didn't understand a word.

"Shall we do the fresh one or the happy one first?" her husband interpreted for her.

"Are those her words or are you interpreting her meanings?"

"I am sorry if I have offended you, Mr. Sampson, sir," supplicated Amud. "Please forgive me. I will attempt to make her words better in English."

I laughed. She was a most perceptive person, from her descriptions of two women she had never before met. Her apt descriptions confirmed the intelligence I had seen in those flashing eyes. Yes, she understood 'these things' very well, as I wager the young man did as well. I would have to talk with him a bit more. I was also curious about what she thought.

"No, Amud," I reassured him, "I am very pleased with the words she uses and the way you said them. They are very perceptive. You have reason to be very proud of your wife."

He beamed at her as I said this, interpreting my words to her. She blushed scarlet under the veil at receiving a compliment from another man. I continued when he had finished.

"Amud, I would like to ask you to do something. I am not very familiar with your culture or of 'these things'. If it is allowed, please ask your wife to speak freely, commenting as she goes through the measuring process. I would like you to translate what she says literally. If you do not know a word, use a word picture, or describe what it does. I would like to ask questions of her as we go along, as well. Would that be allowed?"

He thought about it, chewing it over. He then asked his wife. The discussion was somewhat heated. I wasn't sure who won.

"It is unusual request from strange man. At home, at old home, it would not be allowed for strange man to talk to wife or for him to have to hear worthless prattle from her ugly mouth, even through interpreter. But this is America, our new home. We must learn new ways of new home. Such things are not forbidden by Holy Book. We ... excuse please, I will allow it." Ah Ha! His wife had won!

"Wonderful! Then do the fresh one first. I want the happy one to enjoy herself as long as she can."

He relayed the information to his wife. She bowed deeply to him, and waited for his signal to rise. She turned to me and started to bow, but stopped. She looked over at him for direction in this new situation. He said something to her that was apparently permission for her to speak, as she spoke and gestured at me.

"My wife wishes to thank you for this opportunity, but says it is dangerous to bow to untrained stallion, most likely get head kicked in. Please forgive her ugly mouth, Mr. Sampson, sir!"

He was clearly embarrassed by her description of me, though, in a way, I was pleased. But then I thought that the term 'stallion' might mean something different to her than the picture of raw male power it brought to my mind. Either way, I had asked for it and I would take it. I told him as much, and begged him to continue without apologizing for her. I would take no offense, as I was sure none was intended. He nodded.

We followed along as she led Janey into a smaller side room. I stood at the door where I could keep an eye on Sally, who had stayed behind in the showroom. There was a table off to one side of the smaller room. I ran my hand over the assortment of leather objects laid out on the table, each made with exquisite craftsmanship. I picked up a supple whip to admire the handiwork.

I looked up as a sharp command from the woman that was addressed to Janey, who had been standing off to one side, looking bored. The woman's change of personality was surprising, as suddenly, when speaking to Janey, she was in command.

"Please to remove clothing, young lady."

I raised my eyebrow questioningly at him. He lowered his eyes in apology.

"Strip!"

Janey looked over at me questioningly, bringing a tirade from the woman, pointing her finger at her own chest.

"You look me. I say what is, now! Yes?"

She moved to place herself between Janey and I and stood very close to her face, fixing her with her eyes. I saw the fear in Janey's expression suddenly vanish as she watched the woman. Later she said she did not see any bad things in them, just excitement and laughter.

Janey shed her clothing without another protest, even going so far as to fold them neatly in a pile to one side.

Pulling out a tape measure, the foreign woman began measuring Janey in minute detail. Each finger was measured for length and diameter, exact distances between her wrist and elbows, elbows and underarm, and so on. The woman would measure and write down a measurement on a clipboard. She worked in silence for a while, moving Janey's limbs as necessary.

When she was through with her torso and limbs, she began measuring Janey's head. She took every possible measure around, across, mouth opened, mouth closed, turning left and right, and tipped forward and back. She picked up a series of several metal bars and rings. She put one bar after the other into Janey's mouth until she was satisfied she had the largest size that would fit. With Janey's mouth still open, she used her index finger to touch the soft palate in the back of her mouth. Janey gagged at the touch.

"You must be tougher to swallow long, fat hoses, fresh one. Not good to bite off hose of Master.

She put the metal pieces back on the table, and addressed Janey.

"Make points!"

Janey, to her credit, addressed her, and not me. Amud translated for his wife.

"Points? Make what points? I don't understand."

She stepped back from Janey as if stunned. Turning to her husband, she made a wild gesture and said something. He pointed at me, and shrugged.

His wife turned to me and started talking slowly, as if to an idiot. Her husband's eyes grew wide with fear. I looked at him expectantly, silently ordering him to translate.