“How about you, Karen?”
Karen looked thoughtful. “Remember Corey, the boy in my class who started helping me?”
Claudia nodded, remembering it well. Karen had begun treating him as a Page, a young Knight, when she was learning about the Stages of Development.
“By giving him meaningful things to do, to provide for me, his attitude and behavior completely changed. Even though his parents still show little interest in him. It makes me think that a man only has to be a hero for one person to affect his life. Even a very young man.”
“When is Mike your hero?” Claudia persisted.
Karen looked perplexed, thoughtful. Finally her eyes cleared and her face lit up. “He is my hero when he provides for more than himself and more than me. Like the things he said about sex, knowing he'd be helping Kimberlee.” She glanced shyly at the younger woman and Kimberlee grinned back — and winked. Karen cracked up and the mood of the morning changed completely.
“Yeah, he's my hero in our bedroom too. I guess I should tell him,” said Karen.
Claudia laughed lightheartedly. An exchange like this was unimaginable a couple of months before.
“Heroism is in the act. ‘Hero’ is in the acknowledgement,” Claudia asserted. “To acknowledge a man as our hero requires recognition of his truly noble intentions. I asked what makes a man a hero for you because they might have a hard time receiving that acknowledgment. In fact, you may have to help them receive it by making sure they know you need them to.”
“Huh?” Karen and Kimberlee said in unison.
Claudia explained, “Your homework is going to be to acknowledge the heroes in your life. Do not be surprised if this is difficult for you. Women have been acculturated to believe that they should be their own heroes. Women's television delivers this message over and over again with movies in which, at most, one good man might provide some small assistance as the heroine rescues herself.” She shook her head sadly.
Then she elaborated on her original point, “It is also difficult for men to accept it; especially the ones who think they have to save a life to deserve that word. To help them, you say, ‘I need you to receive this. What you did was heroic to me.’”
She looked from one to the other. “Men have a hard time receiving. But they will do so in order to provide something for another. For example, to let someone else experience the joy of giving.”
Karen got a funny look on her face. Claudia's intuition told her it had something to do with sex, but she did not know how.
KAREN had been enjoying the morning even though she found the topic challenging. It was clear she was stingy with the Hero word; even the concept. Most of the fun was generated by Claudia's mood. She seemed lighter and more playful; less serious and significant. Karen was wondering why when Claudia changed the subject.
“I need to speak to you about my role in our lessons,” Claudia said and Karen's heart skipped a beat. “I cannot continue as I have.”
“Do we need shorter sessions? Less often?” Karen asked, hoping to prevent a long hiatus, like the one she'd had to endure while waiting for Kimberlee.
Claudia shook her head and Karen's stomach plummeted. But Claudia's answer surprised her. “The sessions themselves are fine,” she said. “It is how I am being in them that must change.”
“How so?” Karen asked and noticed that Kimberlee was quietly studying her grandmother.
Claudia responded, “When I met you at yoga and heard about your struggles with Mike, I wanted to provide the Stages of Development. To give you understanding and compassion. And tools to deal with the transition he was in.”
Karen nodded, remembering the lifeline Claudia had extended.
“And, as you know, I prayed every day that Kimberlee would come in search of her inheritance. It was the one qualification I placed on defying the Covenant. Kimberlee had to ask.”
Karen saw the surprise in Kimberlee's dilated pupils. She never told her.
“When you came to me, Kimberlee,” Claudia addressed her granddaughter directly, “in pain about being a Frog Farmer, I made myself accountable for your transformation.”
“Thank you. Your lessons changed my life,” Kimberlee said.
“No, Kimberlee,” Claudia said, shaking her head. “Only you could change your life. I provided the information, the new point of view, the challenge to the status quo and the salve for your pain. But you transformed yourself. It is what you did and what you must continue to do because I cannot be accountable anymore.”
Karen gulped. Even though Claudia spoke to Kimberlee, she knew the message for her was the same. She felt like a bird being shoved out of the tree. What if I don't know how to fly?
“Claudia,” Karen ventured, “I know all about being accountable. And how tired it can make you. I need vacations just to recover. But it would be a privilege to be accountable for this knowledge.” She hesitated, “But, can you tell me exactly how this will work? You speak about a changing role but I don't know what that will look like.”
Claudia smiled and Karen felt somewhat relieved. “You have made it abundantly clear that you regard this as a privilege. It is one of the reasons why I can entrust it to you. As to what it would look like: Instead of providing your training, I am shifting into a supporting role. You generate your training. I am an encyclopedia, a resource; a coach or a guide. I will reveal all of the elements of the Queen's Code; its secrets and its conduct.”
She glanced at Kimberlee and back to Karen. “You can design it however you want. Take turns asking questions; alternate weeks for subjects you wish to pursue. Or align on an agenda ahead of time. I will happily comply with whatever you decide. So long as I am not accountable.”
Kimberlee roused herself, “Grandmother?”
“Yes, my dear?”
“Will this help you regain your strength? If we're accountable and you're not?”
Karen watched Claudia swallow like she had a lump in her throat. She replied to Kimberlee's question, her voice husky, “Burt thinks so. And I hope so. I already feel better. I even had the inclination to bake.”
Kimberlee pointed at the half-eaten coffeecake. “I remember your pastries. As a child, they were one of the best parts of visiting. It was worth Myra's grumbling the whole way over and back.” She smiled and said jokingly, “Heck, I'll be accountable if we get more coffeecake.”
Karen was grateful for the humor and the way Kimberlee had played down the threat to Claudia's health. She'd often thought of Claudia as an encyclopedia of knowledge. If that were true, Karen knew they'd barely explored the first volume.
BURT cleaned up his workbench and headed for the house. Where will I find her today? he wondered. Crossing the path between his workshop and the patio, he heard a high-pitched wolf whistle. Startled, he turned in its direction and found his beloved sitting on the bench he'd carved for her last year. His breath caught in his throat as she smiled and waved him over to one of the prettiest parts of her garden. It worked, he thought, it really worked.
Flooded with relief and joy, he automatically started whistling himself. When the notes of Popeye the Sailor carried toward Claudia, her face lit up like an angel. My angel, he thought, not for the first time.
KAREN, for once, was in a hurry to complete the review of her notes and the creation of her flip chart. Not because she was anxious to get home. Rather because she wanted to work on something else: the list of everything she intended to ask Claudia about. I could love this new format!
She munched on her sandwich and flipped through her pages from today. She gleaned the main points for her flip chart and put some of them into her own words:
The Soul of a man is a Hero.
It's there from birth.
Men get to be Heroes when they Provide for us, being Accountable.
When they give us what we Need.
When they Help us.
And Save us.
They may think it only counts if they save a life
But they save
our lives every day — from drudgery, loneliness, fear, despair.
Heroism is in the Act; Hero is in the acknowledgment.
Queens have always been the ones to acknowledge Heroes.
Karen added the last line in a sudden burst of insight and felt a piece click into place. She saw the perfect balance of masculine and feminine power. Next, she reviewed their assignment:
Homework:
1. See the hero in every man. Ask yourself, “How is this man a hero?”
2. Use the Hero word to acknowledge them and their noble deeds.
Karen had a lot of acknowledging to do. She had, indeed, been stingy. But like last week, she was looking forward to it. In the absence of resentment she was naturally generous with her appreciation. I wonder if that's true for all women? She thought. It would be interesting to find out.
It dawned on her that when she began teaching women what she'd learned about men, she'd probably learn more about women too. That should be interesting. Then she started on the list of what she wanted to understand about men. She soon realized it would be more fun to develop the list with Kimberlee.
KIMBERLEE had used the “Help” word frequently on Monday and Tuesday. As predicted, every time she asked if one of the men could help her, the response had been, “Yes, what?” or “Yes, how?” Or if she asked in advance for time to be helped, they would say, “Yes. When?” Less predictably, they had been that willing in the middle of the month-end push.
Gloriously, for the first time, her team was not expected to show up on Wednesday. Kimberlee slept in, lay around most of the day, and spent the night at Jack's house. The only downer was the thought that, circumstances being different, she could have spent part of the day vegging with Melissa. She still hadn't received a reply to her email and she had the heart-wrenching feeling that she may never. She could relate to the predicament men are in: you can only be a hero for someone who lets you.
She was a little rushed getting to work on Thursday. Partly because her morning routine was off at Jack's house. And partly because of the distraction of Jack himself. Kimberlee had expected the sex to be good. She was realistic enough to realize that a man in Jack's position would have plenty of opportunity to develop skills. What she hadn't expected was how much she enjoyed their conversations before and after. He was smart, funny, interested, and a great listener.
Often, something she said would spark an opinion on his part. But Listening to Learn saved her again and again. Whether she agreed or disagreed wasn't the point. She let go of that and concentrated on seeing what he was inadvertently revealing about himself. As a result, she loved his company and experienced a growing admiration for the man and his values. Sometimes she berated herself for being so wrong about him, but she let go of that too.
On Thursday her team hit the ground running. Everyone was fresh and on their game. And surprisingly grateful to her. Occasionally she looked up to see Raul smiling as he observed the hum of activity. He looked satisfied and Kimberlee congratulated herself on a win-win deal.
Now it was Friday and time to thank Raul. Kimberlee had been working herself up to using the Hero word. When she contemplated it, she had a funny feeling in the pit of her stomach. On an impulse, she called Claudia from her desk.
When her grandmother heard her voice, she responded in alarm, “Are you okay?”
“Sure, Grandmother. Why do you ask?”
“Because you never call me during your work day.”
Kimberlee laughed. “I guess you're right. I usually hunker down when I'm here.”
“Being accountable?” Claudia asked.
“Exactly. Although since Saturday I have been asking for more help. And I'm wondering if there is a way to do my job with less stress.”
“Do you think, maybe, the two go together?” Claudia offered.
“Oh, yeah. Duh,” Kimberlee chuckled.
She heard Claudia chuckle as well. “Did you need something then?”
Kimberlee remembered the reason for her call and the funny feeling reappeared. “Ya, I have a question for my favorite encyclopedia of men and women.”
Claudia giggled and Kimberlee was delighted to hear the childlike delight. This new role is going to suit her.
“I'm contemplating telling my boss he's my hero. For lots of reasons. And every time I think of it, I feel naked and I get a weird feeling, like my stomach is sunk in. There's a funny space below my sternum. It feels strange and kind of scary.”
“Ahh, yes,” Claudia replied.
“You know what that is?”
“Yes, dear. That space is what we feel when we're being feminine. I call it an ‘unoccupied space’ and it's the source of women's magic.”
“That's cool,” Kimberlee replied, liking the idea of being magical. “But why do I feel exposed when I think about saying ‘hero?’ Like I'm naked?”
“We call that ‘strong woman, voluntarily vulnerable,’” Claudia answered. “It is the most empowering and attractive quality you can be. I am surprised you have not noticed it with the other words in the Language of Heroes.”
Kimberlee sat back in her chair, stunned. Strong woman, voluntarily vulnerable. That was exactly what she had been. From the moment she asked her grandmother for help.
“Wow, Grandmother. No wonder men treat me differently. I've been being this way for weeks.”
Claudia sniffled. “I know dear. It has been a great privilege to watch. For Burt and me both.”
Kimberlee felt herself tearing up too. “You're the best Gram-Cracker.”
“As are you, Kimster. See you tomorrow.”
Kimberlee hung up and thought about their plans for Saturday. The idea was to have one of their newfangled sessions in the morning and a barbecue with Burt and Mike afterwards. On another impulse, she called back.
“Hey, if he's available, could I invite Jack to our barbecue?” Kimberlee asked a bit nervously.
“Of course, dear. I would love to meet him,” Claudia responded.
“Oh goody,” Kimberlee giggled and hung up.
She and Jack were supposed to get together later Saturday night. Kimberlee quickly sent him a text: “Would you like to join me at my grandparents’ for lunch tomorrow?”
A few minutes later Jack texted back, “Sure. Meet you there?”
She responded, “1 p.m. Bring the Porsche?” and included her grandparents’ address.
He replied:
All delays having been exhausted, Kimberlee took a deep breath and left her office. She passed slowly through Processing, smiling at the men and women, encouraging them individually. She was glad the freeze had thawed after the women realized that she treated them as warmly as the men. She marveled again at how different this part of her life had become.
Kimberlee saw through the glass that Raul wasn't on the phone. She knocked lightly and entered. He looked up and said, “Hey, Kimberlee, what's up?”
“Would this be a good time to thank you for something?” she asked, committing herself.
He straightened up, his face brightening. “Sure. What for?”
Kimberlee noticed a version of “Yes, what?” and smiled. How come I never noticed how willing men are before? Well, goober, ’cause you were too busy thinking they were hairy women.
“For being my hero,” she said simply and sincerely, profoundly aware of the feeling in her stomach.
He looked like someone had thrown him back in his chair. His hand went to his chest and he looked like the air was forced out of his lungs. His eyes teared up.
“Whoa,” he gasped. Embarrassed, he laughed. “What did I do to deserve that?”
Kimberlee took a seat across from him and began enumerating, “First, you believed in me all these years. Second, you're giving me a future. Third, you've noticed and encouraged the changes I've been making in myself.”
He shrugged, mostly recovered. “All really obvious things. I don't think that qualifies for hero status.”
She smiled internally at Claudia's wisdom. “It
makes you a hero to me.”
He shrugged again and this time she saw acceptance, somewhere in the relaxing of his shoulders. “If you say so.”
“Plus, you suffered being the go-between for me and Jack,” she added, blushing.
“I was wondering about that. Every time I poke Jack about it, he gives that line from That Thing You Do: ‘It would be ungentlemanly of me to elaborate.’” Raul complained but Kimberlee could tell he was faking. The warrior code of honoring privacy was well intact.
She felt she owed him more, though. “Let's just say that he's a hundred times the man I ever thought he was. You pick your friends well.”
He shrugged, “I could have told you that.”
She laughed, “If I had been listening.”
JACK received the text from Kimberlee after the markets had closed on the East Coast and he was wrapping up his week. It was an offer too good to pass up. I'll get to meet the woman responsible for the miraculous changes in her. And the family that matters most to her.
That got him to thinking about Kimberlee's father. His memory readily delivered the name. Compelled, he began searching the Internet and found a Stanley Whitehall in Wisconsin. Following the trail, he found a picture showing an elderly man. Still sorting, he found Stanley Whitehall III, in San Diego, and the resemblance to Kimberlee was striking. That has to be him, he thought, feeling like a hunter tracking prey. He wasn't sure what he'd do with this information but it bothered him that Stanley apparently had no idea what a terrific daughter he had.
He came full circle back to the invitation. Besides a great offer it was a sure sign that Kim was seeing him as something beyond a sex partner. Not that he minded that part; he just wanted so much more.
I always thought women used sex to lure men into relationships. Am I the first man to go along with it to win the heart of a woman?
KIMBERLEE was appreciating the wisdom in not trying to get together with Jack on Friday nights. Instead of being exhausted and trying to be social or sexual, they gave each other the space to recover from work alone. He knows what he needs and I like that. It occurred to her that knowing what you need and being direct about it could be a kindness.
The Queen’s Code Page 31