by Tom Corbett
“Listen, I am not totally clear regarding what is going on. There may be boy problems, you did not hear that from me, or she may be undergoing a more existential turmoil.”
“What the hell do you mean by that?” Kay asked.
Chris knew enough not to go into detail about her love issues with Ben. Still, he had to say something. “She may be sorting out her identity and what she wants to do in life…the big questions. Is she Eastern or Western, a researcher or a practitioner at heart? She is such a prodigy that her professors are pushing her along to a medical research career. On one level, she knows that few are gifted enough to reach for that kind of career. On the other hand, she wants so much to follow in her father’s footsteps. That is just so important to her. For those who have never met him, he was quite a man, makes me feel like a slug.”
Karen was poised with a comeback but held her tongue. They had some unwritten rules about when to be frivolous and when to get serious. Rather, Deena spoke up. “I know what she is going through. She and I don’t need to talk about this to understand one another. I hope she goes, I want to spend time with her.”
Very softly and seriously, Chris encouraged her. “Deena, tell us whatever you can about her cultural struggle. You would know best.”
“Well, it is not such a dark secret.” The young beauty looked distressed for a moment. “You know, you come here to this land and it seems like a dream. One day you are surrounded by conflict, death, poverty, sickness, and oppression. The next you are walking amongst those who have plenty and go about their lives without fear. For a woman, the change is sudden and shocking, you cannot prepare for it. One day, you were a prisoner of your culture and even your clothes. Everything is dictated to you and for you, first by the males in your family and then by a husband and others in his family. Then, without preparation, you are told you are free with a blink of an eye. All the old gender rules are suspended. Can you imagine that, how liberating that is, and how terrifying?” She looked around the table. “I think not. We are all like fish in the water. We are not aware of the water until we are taken out. But then, we either adjust or desperately want to go back, even if that means remaining in a small world that the fish bowl represents. If you are from the outside, it is impossible to see what we might miss about Afghanistan. But when you have spent so many years in such a bowl…”
Carlotta seemed puzzled. “I know my question will sound insensitive but what can you possibly miss about Afghanistan?”
“No,” the young beauty replied, “it is not an insensitive question at all, it makes total sense. In truth, it is a tortured land. Most of what I miss are small things, the warmth of the dry breezes, the rugged mountains, the loyalty and bravery of many of our people. Some things are very small indeed. I loved walking through the markets. You could smell the charcoal that was used to prepare the ears of corn or brew the teas. You could breathe in the various sweets being prepared and nuts being roasted. I have never forgotten those smells, or the everyday chatter of those about me. Here, you have so much. So, nothing means anything. There, finding something a little different in the marketplace can bring great pleasure. Most of all, you really learn how to love…your family and friends. It is special.” Then she stopped.
“I think I get it.” Ricky filled in the slight pause. “I have gone back to my old Chicago neighborhood.”
“Voluntarily?” Chris was incredulous.
“See, that is Deena’s point.” Ricky enthused. “You were never a part of that fish bowl. No matter what, your early life stays with you. Sometimes, even the bad stuff takes on a familiar, even a seductive feel. When I return, I listen to the, what shall I say, patois of the streets. The accents are still Delta, the laughs, the topics being bantered on the building stoops. Even the lengths to which kids go to maintain their creds. There is a singular rhythm to it all. It is yet enticing, for a few hours that is. Then I thank the Gods for permitting me an escape.”
Chris looked at Ricky as if he’d lost his mind. “I dare you to find one banger from your old hood who knows what the word patois means, never mind use it in a sentence. In fact, try finding a banger who can construct a sentence.”
“Point taken, my racist friend, though some of those brothers from the hood were a lot smarter than you would imagine. They never got the breaks I did.” Ricky smiled and nodded toward Chris. “But even you must have feelings about your roots that tug at you. You know, the caviar for breakfast, the weekends at Vail, the gold-plated crapper. You know, I am still pissed, no pun intended, that you never let me use the gold platted crapper, you made me use the carved ivory one reserved for unwelcome guests.”
“Hilarious, my former friend.” Chris put on his offended look. “If you fail as a robber baron, maybe a gig as a stand-up comedian. Besides, you never paid us back for all the silverware you purloined when you visited.”
“That was Jules, not me,” Ricky protested.
Chris had a faraway look. “Sure, I remember the good old days. Early on, we would get our report cards. Of course, Kay’s was always perfect. I found school, even the high priced and selective one we attended, easy but, as you might guess, I floated a bit. Okay, I downright coasted. Too many distractions, particularly sports which, I might add, helped greatly to get me into Princeton when my grades showed a certain lack of…diligence.”
“You mean you were not perfect.” Karen feigned surprise. “I am shocked, shocked.”
“Carlotta,” Chris said with his familiar tone of sarcasm, “you must be ready to take over control of this organization. It is clear poor Karen is long past her prime. I don’t know what she will do after I fire her. She has no shot at a barmaid job here any longer.”
Carlotta laughed gently, then spoke with her sweet, Mediterranean lilt. Chris found her attractive though she was not a classic beauty. Her nose was a bit large but black hair framed a pleasing face dominated by expressive eyes. “No one can replace Karen. She is the only one willing to put up with you. And besides, you are no longer in charge.”
“Perhaps, Carlotta, but I have always been impressed that you could ignore me with such style and, even better, that you can tell me off in so many tongues. Just how many languages can you speak?” Chris was enjoying himself.
Carlotta ignored him. “Still, it is true about what you say. I miss things about the Costa Del Sol every day, like the sun. But that is the obvious thing. The English seem to think that food is for consumption. How ordinary. It is for socializing, connecting. You drink beer. We can spend hours over a good meal, and wine, of course. It is a bonding experience. I miss that, among other things. But I sense you were about to tell us more about your misspent youth.” Carlotta looked directly at Chris.
“Oh, nothing really.” But everyone kept looking at him. “Okay, okay, I would bring my school grades to my mother who would praise me and overlook the fact that Kay beat me one more time. Eventually, mom would make me show it to my father. I can still feel those moments…my stomach still churns. He would look at the card, and then at me. For an eternity, he would not say anything. What I recalled was the first time I disappointed him. Maybe it was the second grade. I forget what distracted me then, it was too early for my fascination with the fairer sex. But I had a couple of B’s and a written comment that I was not living up to my potential. How the hell would they know my potential in the fucking second grade? I suspect what really pissed off Father was that Kay was doing better. Females were never supposed to outdo males in his perfect, hierarchical world.” He paused, taking a long drink of his Guinness and regretting his language. “I never saw his hand until it struck. I flew across the room. I think it was more shock than pain, though I was bleeding from the nose. Why is it always my nose? I lay there trying not to whimper. I would not give him that satisfaction. He walked over and kicked me in the chest, broke a rib.”
“Someone surely did something?” Karen seemed genuinely touched.
Chris laughed. “Right, make a complaint against one of the most powe
rful men in America. Friendly medical help was brought in, they do house calls if you are wealthy enough. It was always the same. I had ‘fallen’ down the stairs. I fell down a lot of stairs. For some reason these mandated reporters never said a damn thing about the obvious abuse. The pain was nothing. It was him standing there, sneering at me. ‘You are such a disappointment,’ he would say. ‘You have been given much and I just know you will throw it away’. Then he would kick me one more time and walk away. It was the way he dismissed me that got to me.”
Ricky seemed very taken. He had never heard this before. With all these two had been through together, Chris had never shared this part of his life. “But you must have responded to him. I mean…when we connected, you were rather an academic star. At least I thought you were. You kind of sucked at basketball but you were a winner in the classroom.” He turned to Kay. “I can see Mr. Tough guy here holding this in but why didn’t you ever mention this to me or Jules?”
Kay never took her eyes off her brother. “I knew but didn’t know. Chris, you never said a word to me. I…never…figured it out. Yes, the bruising, a broken bone on occasion. You kept saying they were sports accidents. I just remember thinking that those street games were rougher than I thought. But somewhere I knew. We were broken kids, and we kept secrets, even from one another. Damn, how pathetic.”
Chris laughed grimly. “Ricky, I may have looked like an academic star to you, but never to the patriarch; Kay always did better.” Then, he looked directly at his sister. “In truth, I didn’t want to bother you with my troubles. Maybe I was reluctant to admit that I could not stand up to him. I was not man enough. That was embarrassing.”
Kay exploded, half rising out of her chair. “For Christ’s sake, you were a fucking boy at the time.” She then realized people in the area were looking in their direction. She controlled herself.
Chris rescued her. “We are a pair, aren’t we? We did keep our secrets, we were a family of secrets, and it almost destroyed us, almost.” His voice became a whisper. “Perhaps Father did help me. Eventually I started to excel but I suspect the beatings had little to do with it. I wanted to do well so that one day I could tell him to fuck off. He had me becoming part of his twisted world and I fantasized about telling him to stuff it. That is what got me interested in the Rhodes scholarship. It was a way out, not the free ride at a top university but the excuse to flee the country.”
“Wait,” Karen asked. “Did you imply that there were many of these so-called encouragements from your father? This went on for a long time?”
“Oh yeah, early on, I think I would make sure I did not ace all my courses. I would not give him the satisfaction of winning. I recall just not answering the last few questions on an exam, even when I easily could. And guess what? I had many more so-called accidents on the stairs, or the playgrounds. There is this T-shirt that says, ‘The beatings will continue until morale improves’, and shows a pirate ship with the poor crew been abused by the captain. That one always resonated with me, I think I bought a dozen of them. He treated Chuck, the eldest, differently. I think he knew that Chuck was not as talented, that bullying him would never work. I gave father a target to release his rage, which probably kept Chuck safe. At least, I had hoped to keep Chuck safe. But no, he would torture Chuck in a different way, until the poor boy killed himself to escape. Funny, I still refer to him as a boy though he was the eldest. He was so sweet.” Chris brushed at his eye, there had been a tear he hoped no one saw. Chris looked around, suddenly realizing how open he had become. “Well, no need to belabor this. At some point, I realized that I really liked school. I loved learning, became a voracious reader. Books were an escape for sure, but I also wanted to absorb all around me. Kay was the quantitative one, the math and science whizz. I was the eclectic sponge. What poor Father did not realize was that my academic renaissance doomed his hopes of turning me into him, a little Hitler. The more I learned about the world, the more I rejected his world view.”
“Any good memories from those days?” It was Ricky.
“Yeah, as I have said before, many times, I loved your family. You didn’t have money. You had something infinitely better…love. I would have traded with you on a dime.”
“And I would have taken that trade on a dime.” Ricky said too quickly.
“No, you wouldn’t,” Chris whispered.
“No,’ Ricky murmured, “I suspect not.”
“And maybe my nights with you, Kay, when we were young,” Chris continued. “As we started to learn about the world beyond what Father drilled into us, we would hide at night, sometimes under the covers, and talk about what the patriarch was shoving down our throats. Remember, we would whisper though there was no chance of anyone hearing. It felt like we were disobeying God. I loved those moments of sharing. I can yet recall us reading passages from Atlas Shrugged and laughing at Ayn Rand’s view of the world, though we never would admit that when Father quizzed us on that damn book.” There was a silence before Chris seemed to shift his attention. “Back to the topic at hand. Azita and your trip. Karen, what do you think?”
There was a long pause before Karen spoke up. The shift was too abrupt, but she recovered quickly enough. “We can always use her, right now we are light on senior medical folk. She is better than most of the doctors we have. After all, she has been doing medical procedures since she was what? Ten years old? And she can communicate in that part of the world, what a plus. You do realize, though, that Amar might want to go if Azita goes. She has a strong mother instinct. And you would be a single dad for a while.”
Chris expelled a deep sigh. “I thought of that and yes, she will go if you take my daughter. Afghanistan is still at war. No one thinks about it anymore since it is yesterday’s news, but it goes on and on as we know. It will be the longest war in America’s history, if you don’t count Korea, which never officially ended after they quit shooting at one another. I know she wants to go back, just been looking for an excuse. Regular medicine does not do it for her.”
Karen beamed, looking directly at Kay. “Now, if we can just get Kay, we will be in business.”
“You got me, without question,” she said without hesitation. “I have plenty of vacation time accumulated. Besides, I can take this as an opportunity to figure out our future.” She smiled. “That’s right, we all know who makes the big decisions in every married couple. I am thinking about getting out of the NHS entirely, just do ISO work and teach.”
“Whoa,” Chris said. He did not like where this is going. “That’s it. I am drawing a line in the sand. It just occurred to me that if both Kay and Amar go, and Jamie gets tied up before leaving Her Majesty’s service, I will have four kids to care for. And I am committed to spending part of the summer in Chicago. How will I handle that?”
Ricky laughed aloud. “That would be a sight. Chris, the man who would never be tied down, the playboy of the Western world, caring for four kids on a transatlantic trip and all on his own. Now that would be worth the price of admission.”
“Wait,” Chris suddenly looked more concerned as he looked toward Karen and Deena. “Who is taking care of your girls when you are gone?”
Karen never cracked a smile. “I am sorry. Didn’t Amar tell you? She and I arranged for the two of you to care for them. But now if Amar joins us…you will have them all. Chris, they love you so.”
He stared, not sure whether she was kidding. “I…I…”
Deena seamlessly picked up the narrative. “We considered other possibilities. At the end of the day, however, I insisted on you. I figured, once you have two, it is not such a big deal to go to six. The ages are roughly the same, easy-peasy.”
Chris momentarily considered how much of the local vernacular Deena had mastered but mostly continued to stare in horror. Karen would bullshit him, of that he was sure. But he was always surprised when Deena was not polite and nice. Azita always had that mischievous streak he had noticed in Pamir, but Deena was more like her mother, somewhat on the serious s
ide and just as beautiful. “No way,” he finally exclaimed. “No way you would risk your precious children with me.”
Karen smiled. “Got that right, buster. My parents are coming down from Birmingham. Amazing, no? We are finally getting along. It was the girls that did it, these two adorable, orphaned girls from Afghanistan. If that is not enough to melt your heart, you are made of stone. Besides, they have warmed to Deena. What is not to love? It also helps that my sister is a single mom and one of my brothers is on the dole, when he is not in the pokey that is. I now look like a raging success in their eyes.”
“You are a success,” Ricky said emphatically. “You took over a failing program from this pathetic guy and turned things around.”
“Once again, hilarious.” Chris breathed again. “I think I will know about Azita and Amar tonight.”
Kay then added. “By the way, if I go Jamie will surely find some way to take care of our children. This will give him a chance to enjoy a little free time and play at being Mr. Mom.”
There was a silence as they all realized that a shift in the conversation was upon them. It was Atle who spoke up. “This is perhaps not my place but the discussion about your father intrigues me. I vaguely know about him by reputation, very right wing. I am very curious about American politics. You have some strange things going on, don’t you?”
“Strange, or pathetic?” Chris asked.
“Well,” Atle seemed quite anxious to get to this topic though he was concerned he might offend if he were too careless. “We Scandinavians are perplexed. Obama is so popular around the world. You Americans punished him by allowing the Republicans to control your Congress after Obama tried to improve your healthcare system. I mean, really, you have the most expensive system in the world and it doesn’t work very well. In fact, your sister here has written a wonderful paper on this very topic. All Obama was trying to do was bring you into line with the other civilized nations. We just do not understand.”