by Tom Corbett
“Yes, yes,” the driver said as he and the passerby helped her to the vehicle. She visibly winced getting into his vehicle. Getting the address from Deena, they headed off at breakneck speed.
Azita knew the man to be a Sikh. She momentarily thought of mentioning that her adoptive mother was also Sikh but that seemed like too much trouble and not terribly relevant.
“You did that just to make me feel bad for you. It won’t work, you know.” Deena whimpered.
“Bollocks,” Azita whispered to her sister, wondering why British slang slipped from her mouth. “Next time I will get myself killed.”
“Good,” Deena said with more conviction. “And don’t expect me to mourn you.”
“No problem, you won’t be invited to my send off.”
The driver looked back at them in the rear-view mirror, clearly confused. “She is my evil sister,” Deena said as an explanation. Then she realized that explained nothing though the man nodded as if it explained everything. Perhaps it did. Turning slightly toward her sister, she put her arm around her and pulled her close. “My fault. I am just angry that you are happy, and that I am miserable.”
“It was terrible timing on my part, to spring this proposal thing. Don’t mention it when we get home.” Azita let out a small groan.
Deena ignored it. “I will keep it a secret that you are a selfish idiot who only considers her own happiness.”
“You are very kind,” Azita said and tried to smile but that did not last. “Oow, my backside is really beginning to hurt. And I have these scrapes on my arms.”
Deena realized the pain was real. She took off her scarf and wrapped up one arm that had tiny rivulets of blood dripping down. She then pulled her sister even closer, kissing her forehead. “Idiot.”
Upon arriving, Jamie carried Azita inside where Amar joined him as they both fussed over her until they were convinced that all she had suffered were severe bruises and deep contusions. Nothing was broken but the pain would linger.
“Kat. Over here,” Kay called and ran to embrace her younger sister. “I am so glad you are here.”
“Good to see you, boss.” Chris gave her his crooked smile and swept her off the ground in a big bear hug.
“Yikes!” she squealed in surprise and delight. “Good to see you guys…I think. Before I forget, Ricky sends his regards but with his mom’s health, well, you know. And, I brought a surprise.” Turning slightly, she pointed back to the elderly woman who trailed a bit behind.
“Mother!” Kay and Chris yelled simultaneously as if rehearsed. “The rumors were true. You are here. So glad you could join us,” Chris finished. The twins gave their mother a warm embrace.
“We can head right to your car,” Kat said as if giving directions. “I arranged for transport for the staff that came with me on the plane, they will handle all the luggage and presents. That is one benefit of being filthy rich, you don’t worry about the details of life. Of course, there are bigger things to worry about but not today.”
Chris took his mother’s arm and started off as she filled him in on the goings on in Chicago. Kay and Kat, he noticed, talked all the way to the car. He was a bit taken aback. They had never seemed close as children. If anything, Kat and Kay had always been happy in their own worlds though Kat did make herself a nuisance to Chris on occasion Mostly, though, Kat spent much more time by herself, almost invisible to the others. Kay and Chris at one point speculated that she might be developmentally disabled but then concluded she was pathologically shy. Now, Chris knew better. His youngest sibling was watching and absorbing the world about her. She probably had been somewhat intimidated by her family’s notoriety and social standing as well as the obvious talents of her older twin siblings. But her mind was incisive, cutting sharp, and her curiosity was not easily quenched.
There were those other times, though. Kat would follow Chris around like a puppy scuttling after the master, often being underfoot when he was with his friends or circling another female prospect. He tolerated that, partly out of pity and partly because it did not happen that often. Where had that girl gone? She and Kay were chatting away as if they had been bosom buddies all their lives. Chris noticed another thing: Kay had put their conversation about Jamie and Karen behind her. It was as if nothing of note was happening in her personal life. How easily she compartmentalized her emotions. He had not met that many women capable of that.
As Kay’s car made its way toward the M1, Kat suddenly switched from small talk with Kay to serious topics with Chris. “Well Chris, I got a good briefing from Jules and Bev before leaving, which is why I suggested to Kay that she drag you along when she insisted on picking me up. No need to bring everyone down during the holidays.”
“Good thought,” inserted Kay. “They are doing up the Christmas tree right now.”
“Christmas tree?” Kat guffawed. “Turn the car around right now, I am heading back to civilization.”
“Nonsense, this will be just like when we were young kids, singing carols around the tree, roasting chestnuts over the open fire…”
“Are you delusional?” Kay bellowed. “You are remembering Ricky’s family, they celebrated the holiday. Father lectured us on why Scrooge was right, and that Christmas was humbug. He read to us, all right, from Adam Smith, Ayn Rand, and Milton Friedman.”
“Oh yeah.” Chris mused.
“I would like a tree,” Mary offered. “We always had one when I was a child.”
“Mother is right, tradition is tradition. And enough squabbling you two. Funny, though, I don’t remember the early celebrations. Maybe I wasn’t old enough to know what was going on.” Kat then decided to shift away from uncomfortable personal memories. “Listen Chris, when all this seasonal nonsense is over there is a lot to do.”
“Actually, I was thinking of some Alpine skiing.”
“You don’t ski,” Kat responded, missing his meaning.
“I can take it up.” This time, his sarcasm was unmistakable.
“Hah, hah, now listen nimrod.” She assumed her serious tone. “Father is kicking into high gear now that the asshole is in the White House, or soon will be. He used to consort mostly with his fellow deep pockets of the hard-right, you know that gang all too well. Now, he is meeting with the front-line operatives. What do you think that means?”
Chris breathed heavily, reluctantly turning his mind to her query. “He has decided to move beyond funding the movement to taking a hands-on role in running it. At a minimum, he wants to shape the agenda.”
“As I always say, you are not a Rhodes scholar for nothing,” Kat offered.
“I always thought you said I was just another pretty face.”
“Really? Why would I ever say that? That was probably Kay.
Now shush. Beverly has been feeding me the identities of his recent visitors. It is like a who’s who of the crazy right, except they are in power now.”
“Whom are we talking about?” Chris was now involved in the conversation.
“From memory, we have Alex Azar. He was one of Kenneth Starr’s counsels during the Clinton impeachment fiasco and rumored for a cabinet position. He is the guy who boosted the price of insulin way up as head of a big pharma firm, becoming yet another Republican serial killer. There is Mark Paoletta, an advisor to Pence. And we have Barbara Comstock, now GOP house member and all-around right-wing crazy. Oh, I shouldn’t forget Kellyanne Conway and Ted Olson, who was Chief Solicitor under Bush and a hard-right zealot if there ever was one. You might recall that his wife died on 9-11 on the flight that ploughed into the field in Pennsylvania. Then we have the media mavens including Laura Ingraham, Ann Coulter, Tucker Carlson, and Matt Drudge. Oh, and Hannity, can’t forget that wacko. They have all circled through his private lair in recent weeks, either singly or in small groups. The most frequent visitors have been Bannon and Miller, modern-day replicas of the Know-Nothings. If Hitler has risen from the grave, he has taken the human form of Miller.”
“What are the Know-Nothings? �
�Kay asked. “Chris must have skipped that lesson in his tutorials for me or perhaps I just fell asleep. I often doze off to the drone of his voice. Oddly enough, he never noticed.”
Chris just smiled. “You just can’t reach some students, sigh. I recall that they were formally known as the American Party but became known as the ‘Know Nothings’ since they were very secretive. They were a nativist party who were very popular before the civil war, the ‘America for white protestants’ gang of that era. They had a huge following, briefly replacing the Whigs as the second most powerful political party as that group was disintegrating. At one point, they had 8 governorships and got at least 20 percent of the popular vote for President in 1856. In the end, the new Republican Party replaced the Whigs. I am certain I lectured you on them at length when I tried to educate you.”
“Sorry,” Kay said and chuckled. “you certainly know by now that I seldom listened to your ramblings.”
Chris gave her a light tap on the shoulder and moved on. “Hmm, I wonder if Father tried to hit on Ingraham and Coulter? Oops, sorry mother.”
“Doesn’t bother me, son.”
“Good! I bet he tried, though screwing Coulter would be like doing it with a coat rack and who should know better than me?”
“You had sex with Coulter?” Kay was incredulous.
“Hell no, I have standards, I never did anything uglier than a coat rack.”
“Now I am getting uneasy,” Mary added.
“Focus, you moron, focus,” Kat yelled from the back seat.
“Yes, of course, sorry.” Chris went back into serious mode. “You know, my last conversation with him, if you can call it that, fits. He has gone beyond merely tilting the economic rules in favor of the uber-wealthy like himself. He has been thinking hard about what to do with his vast treasure. I don’t have all the details but, with the Republicans in power, he can see the next steps in the master plan. First, they jettison what remains of democracy in America, establish a totalitarian regime with his version of philosopher kings in charge. They might need a constitutional convention for that if they need legal cover. Then, they will reach out to like-minded leaders around the world. Part of the plan would involve disrupting the global alliances that have maintained order since World War Two, like NATO, the G-20, and the World Bank. Finally, and this is where it gets mystical and vague, they will orchestrate the next evolutionary step for mankind with the elite, the only people worth saving, in charge. Oh, and by the way, I chatted with Jules a short time ago. She has learned that Obama will expel a bunch of Russians given their apparent interference in the election. Those ex-commies are a crafty lot.”
Kat whistled. “So, it must be deeper than we thought. Do they have the goods on the Republicans?”
“She didn’t know.”
“Wait,” Kat said quickly, “when did you have this conversation with Father?”
“After you were nearly run down on the streets of Chicago. It was a spur-of-the-moment thing, I merely wanted to make sure he understood that I would come after him if he harmed anyone that I loved.”
“And you never told me.” Kat was incredulous.
“Well, I told Jules.”
“Okay, never mind.” Kat wanted to let it go but needed to get one more thought out. “Thanks for having my back. It was a stupid and futile gesture, but I appreciate your effort.”
“Futile?” Chris responded with incredulity. “You are still with us, no?”
“True, but back to business. His agenda now puts the other thing I wanted to share in perspective. This intelligence comes from your new…confidant, Jules.” Her tone dipped into sarcasm at the end.
“Not new, and I apologize for not mentioning my visit to the patriarch,” Chris protested weakly. “That was my bad.”
Kat was determined to go on. “He is also in contact with right-wingers from Europe. Some have visited him, he has visited others. It is like a football program but with a line-up of neo-Nazis.”
“For example?” he asked.
“Alright, here is a partial list, again from memory. There is Victor Orban from Hungary, Matteo Salvini from Italy, Kaczynski from Poland and Strache from Austria. Let’s see. Oh yeah, there is Jussi Halla-aho from Finland, Jimmie Akesson from Sweden, and the always popular Alexander Gauland from Germany - and Le Pen from France, of course. I will get you a complete list.”
“I have never heard of these guys,” Kay protested.
“I have, or most of them,” Chris said grimly. “They are anti-immigration, Europe is for white European purists trying to fan the flames of extreme nationalism. They fit into the Bannon-Miller fold very well, Trump would love them if they ever seized power. Apparently, Father would love them as well. Undoubtedly, our family patriarch is supporting a like-minded revolution of the right in Europe or at least a breakup of the EU when they can pick off the more vulnerable countries. That would play well into Trump and Putin’s short-term agenda and Father’s longer-term vision.” Chris stopped. He was obviously thinking on something. “Shit,” he suddenly exclaimed. “I thought he was mostly dolling his money and fantasizing about unachievable dreams. But he is actively pursuing them. He is taking a more hands-on approach to this revolution of theirs.”
“Bingo,” Kat said. “By the way, how did Father react when you threatened him?”
“He gave me his most sinister grin. The bastard was still trying to recruit me. Why doesn’t he get it? Isn’t it obvious I hate his guts? Bottom line he did a non-denial, denial. But I could not tell if he would do such a thing or merely wanted me to believe he was capable of it.”
Kat looked pensive. “Chris, you may have the most to worry about. Losing you to the other side is something he cannot accept. He must know it is hopeless, doesn’t he? Yet, he keeps trying to lure you back - a sign of emerging insanity, perhaps? You know, trying the same hopeless gesture over and over. He really doesn’t like to lose. Still, I worry a lot about Beverly, Jules, and even myself. And yet, I really think he will come after you, if he ever snaps that is.”
“Ah, I’m a big boy. Besides, I can still run fast, have not gone totally over to flabby middle age.”
“Don’t joke, not about this.” There was an intensity in Kat’s voice that silenced Chris. “I never thought it would come to this when I enticed you over to the States. So sorry. Maybe we should rethink things?”
Chris reached deep for some positive note. “Well, maybe we are just getting too paranoid. Your near hit-and-run may have been just a drunk. We will see.”
“Yes,” Kay whispered uncertainly. “We will see.”
Deena slipped into the bedroom where her sister was recovering. She sat quietly on the edge of the bed, simply looking at Azita’s chest as it rose and receded with each breath. For an instant, she panicked at the thought that her respiration would suddenly stop, and her sibling would be gone forever. She knew that would not happen, but the fear remained in her.
“What are you doing here?” Azita murmured drowsily as her sister tried to rise from the edge of the bed just as quietly as she had arrived.
“Well, I slipped away from the others to see if you were resting well,” Deena replied.
“Hah, fat chance of that when you wake me just as I am dozing off.”
Deena grunted. “Good, then you know how I felt when you tortured me when I was recovering.”
“But I knew what I was doing. You…you are just a teacher.”
Deena winced. “Don’t you mean just a lesbian teacher?”
“Oooh,” Azita cried out.
“Where does it hurt.” Deena was suddenly concerned.
“In my heart, you idiot. Why did you remind me about how awful I was, even if I didn’t mean it? I am so sorry, my sister. I am such a selfish girl, not as selfish as you, but still…I keep thinking I am beyond that but no. You have every right to hate me.”
Deena said nothing for a minute. “Turn.”
“What?” Azita was confused. “Just turn. I am putting some salve on y
our contusions.”
It took some doing but she finally got her sister turned and disrobed enough to see the black and blue down her backside. “Aach,” she exclaimed. “If Ahmad could see this, he would cast you aside.” Deena gasped at the discoloration. “This is hideous looking, worse than earlier I think.”
“You have a terrible bedside manner,” Azita said as her sister began to rub a soothing salve over the discolored area. “And Ahmad would not care about such irrelevant things. He loves me for my soul.”
“No boy loves a girl for her soul” Deena now laughed aloud. “I cannot believe this, my sister the romantic. And why, for Allah’s sake, did you propose in that restaurant? I never did get an answer.” When Azita still said nothing, Deena hit her on her bruised rump.
“Ow! That hurt.”
“Good. Now answer me,” Deena insisted.
“Okay, but mercy! Even with the pills, it is still sore there.” Azita tried to look back at her sister but the effort proved too difficult. “The truth, I have no idea why I did it. Okay, that is not true. I have a rationale, but I cannot believe I did it in the moment. You see…this is not easy. Let me start again. Mother, Amar that is, once told me I would know when the right man came along. There would be a connection, an electric feeling that was unique and unforgettable.”
“Wait,” Deena protested, “have you even touched this boy, kissed him? How could you have this feeling?”
“Once, for a few brief moments, we embraced. We kissed. It was enough. I knew, or thought I knew, in that very moment. Then, at the restaurant, the sight of him, the quick embrace, it all came back again. It was as if my mind and body froze. And then, when Abdul said that our generation must save our country, those words just came out of my mouth. It made sense in that moment.”
Deena finished applying the salve and adjusted her sister’s nightgown. “It is now official. You are a crazy woman. But we will find you a nice asylum.” Then she leaned over and kissed Azita’s forehead. “I am so sorry for my anger earlier, so very sorry. I am confused. Perhaps we all are.”
