Chapter 9

A week had already passed since Dorothy had confided her problem to me. Since that time, Dorothy hadn't mentioned it again, and I hadn't brought the subject up either. The problem became urgent and critical on the Friday of that week, when her father and uncle came by the school to withdraw Dorothy from enrollment there.

Called to the office, Dorothy refused to cooperate with her family's attempt to have her dropped from the student rolls. Instead, she started getting visibly upset and hysterical, repeatedly telling her father: "You can't do this, you can't do this to me!"

Dorothy's uncle, apparently unused to having any decision of his questioned, made the mistake of taking his wooden cane and hitting her several times on the back, all the while speaking to Dorothy's father, in Farsi, taking him to task for failing to raise an obedient and more pliable daughter. The uncle was quickly stopped, and restrained from further expression of his displeasure, by two of the male teachers who happened to be checking their mail slots between classes. Someone in the office had summoned the police while all this was taking place.

While the police were interviewing the uncle about his assaultive behavior, Dorothy and her father were engaged in a tense conversation, also in Farsi. He was telling her that her actions had shamed and humiliated him, and that they'd be fortunate if his brother didn't cast all of them out into the street, withdrawing all his financial support in the process.

Dorothy wasn't responding to what he was saying, only shaking her head from side to side, and continuing to cry. When the police tried to interview her, Dorothy refused to speak with them. The uncle was cited, and was then free to leave. He did leave, refusing to take his brother with him.

After half an hour of being unsuccessful in getting Dorothy to speak to them, the police asked her if she wanted to remain in her father's care? She nodded that she did, so the two police officers put away their reports and left the school. Dorothy and her father walked home from the school, even though it was just getting to be fourth period when they left.

At the time all this was happening, I was sitting in one of my classes, totally oblivious to what was going on. The first I heard that anything had happened to Dorothy was when a friend of hers approached me in the school cafeteria, wanting to know if I'd heard anything more than she had. When I expressed my total ignorance, she proceeded to tell me all she knew, which was only that there had been a problem in the school office, the police were called in, and that Dorothy had left the school campus, accompanied by her father. The girl claimed to be able to recognize Dorothy's father, because she said she'd given Dorothy rides home from Chess club, on several occasions, and had met both of Dorothy's parents as well as most of her brothers and sisters while doing that. She claimed to have seen Dorothy walking with her father a short while before coming to the cafeteria for lunch.

I briefly considered the idea of leaving school to go find her, to make sure she was all right, but decided not to, since Dorothy was with her father, and I knew she didn't want him knowing she had any American male friends.

I didn't see or hear from Dorothy over the weekend, but that was neither unexpected or unusual. When she failed to show up at school on either Monday or Tuesday, I grew concerned enough that I went over to her house and knocked on the door on that Tuesday afternoon. Roger, Dorothy's youngest brother, answered the door.

"Hi, can I please speak with Dorothy?"

"She isn't here. She doesn't live with us anymore. They all left to go live in Iran for a few months. Only my two older brothers and I live here now."

"I don't believe you."

Something in his tone of voice, and the way he kept looking all around nervously, made me think he was lying to me. He was sure worried about something. When I told him I didn't believe him, he started to step back, and I saw his hand reaching behind him, trying to find the door. I stepped forward until I had my foot in the doorway, hoping to prevent him from slamming the door to escape me.

"Get back, or I'll call the police."

"You'd be saving me a phone call if you did. I know Dorothy hasn't left the country yet. She told me it would be a few weeks for all of them to get their new American passports. Why don't you go get Dorothy, so I can talk to her and make sure she's okay?"

"I already told you, they aren't here anymore. They left already, on Saturday."

"I'm calling the police as soon as I get home, to report what your uncle is doing to Dorothy and your sisters. He'll end up in jail for this, and probably the rest of you too. Right now, you're an accessory to kidnapping, and so are your brothers, and your father. You can't sell people in this country. They'll lock you all up and throw away the keys."

Poor Roger was starting to look like he was getting ready to vomit. He was fourteen or fifteen years old, about Willy's age, maybe half a year younger. He definitely wasn't liking me telling him he'd be going to jail. From the wild look in his eyes, he was beginning to panic.

"You better go call your uncle and tell him I'm about to bring in the police and the FBI. I'm going to, in about five minutes, if you don't let me talk to Dorothy."

"She isn't here, I swear it! Let me see if one of my brothers will talk to you. Maybe they can convince you."

He turned around and went further back inside the house. The door stayed open, so I stood there waiting. I waited five minutes, and no one came back to the door.

"Somebody better come out here and talk to me pretty soon. If not, I'm going home to make my phone calls."

In less than a minute, Dorothy's two oldest brothers came to the door.

"Go away! Why are you coming here causing all this trouble? We are not afraid of your threats. Go away."

It was the oldest brother that was talking. The second oldest was right behind him though, although Roger was nowhere to be seen. The older brother looked angry and determined, not at all intimidated by my being there.

"By the time the police and the FBI get through with the bunch of you, you'll all end up losing your citizenship, going to jail, and then you'll be deported back to Iran when you finish serving your prison sentences. Kidnapping is a crime. You can't force people to do what you're forcing Dorothy and her sisters to do. They'll take away all your uncle's businesses too. He'll be as poor as you all are. They do that here to naturalized citizens and aliens who turn into criminals."

The older brother stepped forward and tried to push me off his doorstep. I reached out and took his extended arm and swung him around, throwing him onto the grass, using his own momentum and body weight against him as I did it. The other brother stepped back, going even further inside. I waited, keeping my eyes on both brothers, my foot still inside the open doorway. We stayed where we were for about ten minutes before the Uncle and Dorothy's father showed up in the uncle's dry cleaner delivery van.

The uncle was old, fat, and bald, just like Dorothy had described him. He looked to be at least fifty five years old. Her father looked about ten years younger than the uncle. Both of them had gotten out of the van and signaled for the eldest brother to come over to where they were. The three of them held a parley, with the son and the uncle doing all the talking. After they had finished talking to each other, the uncle walked up to me.

"Why are you here trying to cause problems for my family? You cannot go around making wild accusations. Where is your proof?"

"Dorothy told me what you were planning on doing. I checked, and selling people is against the law. You aren't even an American, and you're the ringleader. The FBI is going to have a lot of fun prosecuting you. J. Edgar Hoover will have your face plastered all over the TV, and in the newspapers too. Doing that to your own nieces, and doing it against their will, which is worse. You'll be lucky if they only give you twenty years, before they deport you. They'll seize all your assets too, because they always do that, first thing. Those girls are Americans now, and you can't treat them like you used to be able to, back in the old country."

"She exaggerated things, whatever she said to you. This visit has been long planned. It is strictly family business."

"We'll see what the FBI says, after they interview all of you. You have to follow our laws now, Mister. Either bring me Dorothy, and I mean right away, or else we'll let the police and the FBI get to the bottom of who's right and who winds up in jail."

"It isn't possible for you to see her or talk to her. What you are doing now will only end up causing her big problems later. If she is truly your friend, you wouldn't want to bring her further trouble, would you?"

"I'm calling the police. Maybe they'll be the same officers who came to the school on Friday. When I'm done calling people, including the newspapers, you won't be able to show your face anywhere. See if I'm wrong about that, why don't you?"

I moved away from the door, started walking towards my house. I really did plan to call the police and report what Dorothy had said to me. Behind me, I could hear three or four voices, all yelling at each other.

"Wait! Don't go yet. My uncle is deciding what he wants to do." It was the eldest brother. His voice had been the most excited and strident while I'd been walking off. I kept walking, but not fast, more like a leisurely, confident, pace.

"I will bring her here to talk with you. My youngest nephew is placing the call right now. When she tells you that she is leaving by her own choice, will you finally leave us in peace?" The uncle seemed calm, almost like he was just indulging me with this decision to allow Dorothy to come speak with me.

"What you are doing is still illegal, even if she was completely in favor of it, which I happen to know she isn't. You can't make her marry somebody, not if the only reason for doing it is to get him to the head of the line, or to help him get an entry visa to come live here. The whole idea of doing that is illegal. Bring her here and I'll talk to her, but I'm not making you any promises about what I'll do after we talk. I think you should get twenty years in jail, just for having the idea of ever doing something as evil as this to someone in your own family."

"You know nothing about what we are planning, or why we have arranged for these unions to take place. It is you who have committed crimes, not me."

"Why don't we call the police here so we can all find out together then? My only crime is trying to help a friend who asked me for that help, but yours is selling your three nieces to foreign businessmen, so they can get visas to come here. We'll see what the police think, after I get done explaining it to them, okay?"

"I may need to go to my home to get her, to bring her here if that phone call doesn't reach my associate. It will take me half an hour. After, you will see how badly you are mistaken."

"I'm going to my house, and I'll be phoning my father's attorney, to ask his advice on what we should do. I think he will tell me that I still need to make a report of everything I heard from Dorothy. I can't see any way I could keep from going to the authorities unless I already knew that Dorothy and her sisters weren't going to be sent back to Iran."

"This is really not your concern. Why are you meddling in our business?"

"I'm making it my concern, and if you want to stay out of bad trouble, you better do exactly as I'm telling you. Now, I want to see all four sisters here at their house, and I want a chance to talk to Dorothy, alone, to make sure she's all right."

It is amazing the way certain people think they are above any need to justify what they do. Dorothy's uncle was that way. Both the older sons were obviously pleading with him to give me what I was after. Dorothy's father said nothing, but he sure looked miserable, standing there, waiting for his older brother to decide his future fate.