“Come on, Bahir. It will be fun,” Heather promised. She already had Amir in her arms. He’d said goodbye without a peep, but she could tell he too would be crying if Bahir kept this up. She’d watched how effortlessly Marsha spoke in the foreign tongue to the little girl and wondered what they had said.
Marsha finally just had to hand Bahir off to Heather. Her expression was apologetic, but she had to get out. The private was waiting with a staff car to drive her to the major. She heard Bahir crying in the house as she shut the door behind her. She was sure this was going to be a long day.
The private was impressed with how smart she looked in the oversized clothes. He didn’t know it, but Heather had pinned and pulled and made it look fitted to Marsha’s overbloated body. Her cap was set at the proper angle and her captain’s bars gleamed. Heather had even found her some dress shoes that she shined up. Her ribbons and accommodations were pinned neatly over her chest, confiscated from some of her other dress uniforms that she had left at home. She was ready for this.
Marsha wondered what they would ask. She knew they would want her to recount everything that had happened to her, but it would be hard. She wasn’t used to talking openly anymore…that had been beaten out of her a long time ago. She was used to standing and waiting to be seen. She was used to being quiet. She didn’t know if she wanted to tell them, but she knew she had no choice.
* * * * *
Heather watched as Marsha drove away, escorted by the private who had brought her the clothing yesterday. She looked fine in her dress blues. She didn’t have all her ribbons on her chest, just the few they had taken from other clothes. They’d have to replace those, but the captain’s bars looked fine. The oversized shirt and pants hid nothing, but they made her look a lot more comfortable as she waddled off. How Marsha had hidden that waddle the previous day, Heather didn’t know. Now it was more pronounced, but perhaps she was still a bit tired. She’d slept soundly. Both of them kept to their own side of the bed, but just knowing she was home helped Heather to sleep better. Finding her leg touching her wife’s was a comfort. Neither felt comfortable yet holding the other for anything more than a hug or two, but Heather hoped that would change. They needed to talk. It wasn’t like Marsha not to tell her things. This silence was unnerving. They’d had such a good relationship before….
“Mommy,” Bahir said almost formally, not realizing the meaning of the name. It was close enough to moray that she accepted it. She was used to having two mothers. Malekah had been her first mother even though she knew that Mahsa was the mother that had birthed her. She accepted that as their way. The tribe had other couples with two wives. She was too young to realize that these two mothers were different.
Heather started at the little girl talking to her. Amir had been pretty quiet towards her until now. Neither had liked that Hayley had to go off to school. “Yes, Bahir?” she wondered what the name meant.
“May we go out to play?” she asked politely and Amir nodded, parroting his sister and looking longingly at the back door. He remembered the fun of the previous day with Hayley.
“Let’s clean up after breakfast and all three of us will go out,” she promised. The two children were surprised to be expected to take dishes to the sink to be soaked. While they soaked, Heather made a game of gathering up and folding the bedding the children had used the night before. She wondered what they would use in the bedroom…they couldn’t camp out indefinitely.
Soon, they were sliding down the slide, Heather swinging Amir up on the top so he didn’t have to make the climb. He giggled madly, enjoying the attention from the adult. Bahir allowed Heather to push her on the swing, a contraption she hadn’t seen before the previous day, but had readily accepted. Both children accepted Heather quickly because she played with them, didn’t ask anything of them, and treated them just as she treated Hayley.
“Let’s go pick Hayley up from school,” Heather told them after they had come in for lunch. She put away the dishes she had let dry in the rack.
Both children looked at her, not comprehending what she meant. She wondered if they simply didn’t know the English words. She cleaned them up with a wash cloth and put on the outfits they had traveled in. She noted the fine cloth, the excellent stitching, and the tradition of each outfit. Both children looked darling after she brushed out their hair, but she wondered if they had ever used that before when they looked at the brush oddly. She found an old car seat of Hayley’s to put Amir in, strapping him into the back seat of the car and then strapping Bahir into Hayley’s car seat. They would have to buy another. She thought about how little they had in the bank and crossed her fingers that they wouldn’t have to spend much. They had some time before school let out and she turned over the old car and drove to the thrift shop. Holding both children by the hands, she walked them into the store. She put Amir in the cart and watched the wonderment in both children’s eyes as they looked around the store. She hated coming to this store where there was always a smell of ‘old’ or other people’s basements. She found a good used car seat as well as some clothing for both of the children—several pairs of pants as well as shirts and blouses. She was pleased that the total bill didn’t strain their finances too badly. She hoped with Marsha home that would change.
Strapping a third car seat in with the other two took some arranging. While she did that, the two children played in the back of the old wreck. She watched with interest as Bahir taught Amir some sort of clapping game. His giggles were precious to hear. Heather noted that Bahir was a bit quieter than either her brother or sister; much more serious. Perhaps it was the newness of it all, or perhaps she was just a quiet child.
When Heather arrived at the school, there was a long line of cars parked in front waiting to pick up children. She parked in line and got both of the children out of their car seats. Carrying Amir, she walked with Bahir towards the kindergarten rooms. The class was so large there were two of them. She wondered about entering Bahir in the pre-K classes. She’d have to ask Marsha about the child’s age, but she had to be at least four with the time Marsha had been away.
“Are you babysitting, Heather?” a voice asked and she turned to see several of the mothers standing in a clutch. She detested this social aspect of the moms who stood and gossiped as they waited for their children. She’d never been invited to coffee with them and she knew it was because she was a lesbian. They’d told her as much when they found out she was the wife of a missing servicewoman.
“No, Helen. These children are Hayley’s brother and sister,” she said, feeling a mean sort of relish at imparting this news. She knew it would be food for fodder by the end of the day.
The woman frowned at the information, confused. “I didn’t know Hayley’s father was….”
“No, these are Marsha’s children,” she clarified, but she told them nothing further as the bell rang and children began to peel out of the classrooms. Hayley squealed when she saw them waiting for her. Heather put Amir down so he could run after his sister as they hugged.
“Ms. Gagliano, Hayley has been telling me about her brother and sister who came to stay with her yesterday. I wasn’t sure I should believe her,” the teacher said with delight as she greeted Heather.
“Yes, it was rather unexpected,” Heather understated as she smiled at the exuberance of the children. They were already talking a mile a minute—even Amir who didn’t know as many words—as they caught up on the few hours they had been separated. Heather could tell the teacher wanted more information, but she wouldn’t be providing it. Instead, she smiled and went to the children. “Come on, you three. We need to get home and wait for your mom…your moray,” she clarified, enjoying the word for the first time. All three turned and, holding hands, headed down the hallway. More than one eye was on them as the gossip began to spread.
Tucking three young children into the old wreck was difficult. The chairs were tightly packed in that backseat, but the children didn’t seem to mind or even notice as they chatt
ered away.
“And Mommy put Amir on the slide and whoosh, down he went,” Bahir was telling Hayley. She imitated the sounds Heather had made, not having heard the word whoosh before that morning.
“She pushes me on the swing sometimes too,” Hayley told her.
“She pushed me this morning,” Bahir bragged, a slight accent in her voice.
Heather wondered at the English Bahir had been taught. Certain words she didn’t know…common, everyday words. She’d have to ask Marsha about that when she got home.
* * * * *
“Captain Gagliano?” a familiar voice greeted her at the door the private was escorting her through.
Marsha smiled as she recognized Captain McKellan and returned his salute. “I thought you’d be staying…” her voice trailed off as she recognized Colonel Rugster from Kabul, as well as Mr. Wynn and Major Scott. “I see the whole crew is here?” She turned to look at the captain with questions in her eyes.
“Yes, apparently the video wasn’t enough and they have further questions. I’m here to represent you so they can’t jump down your throat,” he warned her, his voice lowering on that last sentence. The look in his eyes told her that her testimony so far wasn’t being believed.
Marsha sighed. She had hoped that some of this was at an end. The video was supposed to help with that. “What are they hoping to find?” she murmured as they began to walk towards a room. The private, seeing that she was with the captain, made himself scarce.
“I don’t know. Colonel Kodel is behind this and General Biggins has ordered me to see this through to the end.”
“What end?”
“That’s what we are here to find out.” He waited until they were nearly through the door when he recommended in a low voice, “Just remain pleasant and forthcoming. I’ll take the brunt of this.”
Marsha didn’t know how he could when she saw the room was crowded with many more people than she had expected. There was the major and colonel from Kabul as well as several others. Some of the faces looked dire, as though Marsha was about to be court-marshaled. She had done nothing wrong. Then she saw some looking askance at her belly. That too was not her fault.
They began by asking her to repeat what had happened to her on the day her helicopter disappeared.
“Captain Gagliano has already answered that question. You were all given a copy of the video well before the captain returned from Kabul,” Captain McKellan answered for her before she could even open her mouth.
“This is not a formal inquiry yet, Captain,” someone with the rank of major tried to interject in a cajoling voice.
“As you can all see, Captain Gagliano is in no condition for a formal inquiry. She’s already given several days of testimony. There is no need for her to answer redundant questions.”
“We need to ascertain the truth of….”
“Are you implying that Captain Gagliano was not being truthful in the testimony that I provided you?”
“Of course she was, but we need to know….”
“Then I suggest that you ask different questions from the ones that have already been asked.”
And so it went for hours. Questions would be put forth to Marsha, but Captain McKellan would answer for her or redirect since they had already been asked and answered on the video. Very few new angles were brought forth and both of the captains were wondering what this was all about. There was something more here than met the eye. Finally, Captain McKellan called for a break due to Captain Gagliano’s ‘condition.’ Several people objected to this, but they were easily overridden. They were allowed to adjourn until the following day.
“What the hell was that all about?” Marsha asked as she tried to walk normally out of the building. She felt very stiff from sitting so long.
“I don’t know, but I intend to get to the bottom of it,” he promised her. It had been very odd. Not only their repetition of questions that had already been asked five different ways, but their focus on what had happened to the others. Marsha didn’t know and had made that very clear. It was obvious she wasn’t believed.
“How am I supposed to get home?” she asked, exhausted.
“I’ll give you a ride,” he offered, gallantly.
“Thank you,” she answered as she allowed him to take her arm. She didn’t need it, but it would have looked childish to pull her arm away.
Marsha was surprised and secretly delighted as he escorted her to a convertible. It was a vehicle called a Sebring. It looked sporty and was bright red. “Compensating for something, Captain?” she teased.
He laughed as he helped her into the vehicle. He held her hands as she let her backside fall into the seat. “You okay there?” he inquired solicitously. “My wife would never forgive me if I didn’t help a lady, especially a pregnant one, with such a courtesy.”
“Just get me in this thing,” she grouched with a smile.
“Actually, in answer to your question, my wife wouldn’t let me get a Corvette,” he teased in return with a grin.
“I’ve driven one of those, years ago. You have to have small feet,” she teased, glancing down at his feet and implying his manhood.
He laughed appreciatively as she swung her own feet into the car and he handed her the seatbelt.
As he drove, he told her his office was looking into the matter of money and her promotions. “I don’t think they’ll go for you being a lieutenant colonel, but you should have the rank of major by now,” he told her as he explained.
“Good. I think my wife could use the money. She’s still driving the same car we had when I left.”
“I saw where they suggested she move off the housing that is provided at a discount,” he mentioned.
“They did?” she asked, surprised.
“She didn’t tell you?”
“Between getting home, finding me clothes, and dealing with the children, we haven’t talked much.”
“Just don’t mention…” he began, but she held up her hand to stop him.
“I know,” she told him frostily.
“It must be difficult,” he tried another tactic. He didn’t need her upset or angry. “Find out from her perspective what happened while you were gone. We may need that information.”
“What the hell is going on?” she wondered.
“I don’t know, but I intend to find out.”
The rest of the ride was relatively quiet as she directed him to the house. It felt so familiar. She was delighted to be back. She hadn’t liked the hours of interrogation and she was starving. She certainly wasn’t looking forward to a repeat of this tomorrow.
“I’ll pick you up at 0900 hours,” he told her as he stopped the car and jumped out on his side, running around to help her out.
“Thank you,” she said as he helped her from the car. She was really uncomfortable.
“I’ve arranged for an OB/GYN here on the base,” his head indicated back from where they had come. “She should be calling you at home.”
She sighed. She felt so big. She wished she knew how far along she really was and how much more of this she would have to endure. “When can I make an appointment?”
“Probably tomorrow afternoon after they ask a few more questions,” he grinned, trying to make a joke of the intense questions they had already thrown at her.
“I want my wife there,” she told him.
“Oh, of course,” he answered contritely. “If you make it for the afternoon, she can meet you there.”
“Will they let me out of the interrogation? I mean I haven’t even had lunch.”
“We’ll make sure of that,” he promised. He looked up as Heather came out the front door. “Give her this to watch so that you can answer any of her questions.” He handed her a copy of the disk she had seen him give to the others—the testimony she had given him back in Kabul.
“Is this okay with the army?” she asked, concerned. They were looking for a reason to doubt her and this might do it…sharing with a civilian.
�
�This one has been edited,” he assured her and then looked up alertly.
“Hello,” he said politely in greeting.
“Hello,” she answered, looking at him curiously.
“Heather, this is Captain McKellan. He’s defending me,” Marsha introduced them.
“Mrs. Gagliano,” he smiled and nodded respectfully. He knew she went by her wife’s last name from Marsha’s file.
“Defending you?” Heather asked, curious.
“Well, they have a lot of questions. He keeps them from asking too many and manages to get me time off due to my ‘condition.’” She made quotation marks in the air as she said the word condition.
“Well, they should give you time off for that,” Heather smiled.
“He also arranged for a doctor to take a look…” she began.
“Oh, that’s what that woman meant on the answering machine.”
“They called already?”
Heather nodded.
“Well, Captain, I see you are in good hands. I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” Captain McKellan made his exit. He could see they had things to discuss and he hoped some of it would give them some inkling of what the army was looking for in their interrogation of Captain Gagliano.
“Thank you, Captain. See you in the morning,” Marsha said formally and gave him a salute. He returned it, pivoted, and marched around his car.
“That’s your lawyer?” Heather asked as they turned to go into the house. They could hear the children in the house.
“Yes, he’s really been helpful. They are after something and I don’t know what.”
“Do they think you did something wrong?” she sounded concerned.
Marsha shook her head and then shrugged. “I don’t know. I really don’t know. Here, this is for you,” she said as she handed her the disk.
“What’s this?” she asked. It was obvious she hadn’t overheard the captain.
“It’s my testimony. I would like you to watch it so we can have a conversation.” Marsha looked intently into her eyes. They needed to talk, and soon. Especially if the army was coming after her.
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