Child Brides of India

By C. Stanton Leman

Chapter 104

The following morning I went to the office as giddy as a schoolboy. Today, I was going to give each child on the ward the toy they said they desperately wanted. Many of the boys — and a lot of the girls — wanted a handheld computer game system. For each, I purchased three games to go with it. Some wanted dolls, some of the boys wanted remote controlled cars or helicopters and some wanted books, crayons and colored pencils.

I made a grand entrance with several employees and we were dressed in elves’ costumes. I told the kids I was Santa’s helper and that he had decided to have Christmas a little early. Most of them didn’t buy it, but they went along anyway for the fun of it. My heart skipped a beat when Miko wheeled Hibbah into the playroom in a wheelchair.

Many of the kids gasped at her missing foot and the repulsive stitched cut on her face. To make her feel better, I called her to me. I told the kids that many times we cry in bed at night because we think our lives are so bad. Kids do it and grownups do it too. We don’t realize that there are others in the world whose lives are worse than ours. I then tried to explain, in simple terms what it’s like to live in a country where there is war all around us with bullets and bombs going off everywhere.

After that, many of the kids came to her and gave her a hug or words of encouragement. Feeling more accepted, she brightened up and helped me give out the presents. When the party was over, I took over as chauffeur and wheeled Hibbah to the cafeteria along with Aziza and Basheera and we had pizza and sodas for lunch. I had bought her a new soft, crushed cotton nightgown and matching robe that was cream-colored with little red roses on it and she felt so pretty when she put it on. Aziza and Basheera were blubbering too when they saw it on her.

I informed Aziza that Jamila, the new translator, was moving into our home today and that she could probably leave the hotel tomorrow and move in with us. She was happy about that because she said she was so lonely at night and missed having female companionship. She was also anxious to meet my family. Basheera offered to return some of the money I’d given her, but after a stern look, she smiled and dropped the subject.

Hibbah was glad to get out of bed and off of her back, but said that with her body above her leg, her stump hurt and throbbed more. After eating, I wheeled her back to her room and put her back in bed. After laying her down, I started to sit and she started to cry. I asked her what was the matter, and she said, “My life is over. Why does there have to be war, with guns and bombs? Why did this have to happen to me?”

I sighed and pulled her onto my lap and pulled her head to me as I hugged her and replied, “Sweetheart, only Allah knows the answer to that. My father said that as long as grownups disagree, many think that the only way to settle things is to fight. Grownups act like silly children sometimes. And think that if they beat up another country, that they are right. I know that’s not much of an answer, but it’s the only one I have.

“Why did this happen to you? I believe that Allah has something wonderful in store for you, but with all of God’s blessings, it comes with a price. Sometimes, it doesn’t seem fair and that God is cruel, but in the end, we always see His purpose. As for your life being over, I say you’re full of donkey doo-doo.

“Look at us now, I have a new princess that is costing me a fortune, you and your mom will have a nice, big home to live in and you’ll never have to worry about anything again. You are away from that war and all the guns and bombs and you’ve got your whole life ahead of you.

“My life? What kind of life will I have?” she asked through her tears. “I wasn’t pretty before, but look at me now, just look at me! Did you see the way the other kids stared at me and didn’t even want to be near me? I should have died. I would have been better off!”

“Hmmm,” I replied as I moved back a little, “So you’re a quitter, are you? I don’t know if you know it, but four of your friends died that day. You lived. Do you think your mother wishes you had died or is she glad you’re alive and can learn how to live again? I had someone I loved very much die and it hurt me deeply to lose her. She was a lot like you. She was pretty, friendly and brave. Your mother would die if she lost you.”

She was sobbing now and cried, “But it hurts so much and I’ll never be the same!”

“No, Honey, you won’t. You’ll be better. This will make you stronger, more determined to be someone strong, deep in your heart and to find a purpose for your life. You’re right, you won’t be the same. But I won’t let you quit! Any princess of mine will never quit — never. If I ever teach you anything, my little Princess, is to fight for what you what. If you want something with all your heart, go after it and never give up. Don’t ever forget that your mother and I will never let you do anything alone. One of us will always be there for you. When you come to live with me you’ll have a whole family that will help you.”

Hibbah looked at me with a very puzzled stare and asked, “How can you love me? Look at me! My face is scarred and I look like a monster! I don’t have a foot and can’t even walk. Why do you think I’m so special? Only Mama has ever said that to me. It’s easy for you to care, you’ve got everything. You’re handsome and rich with four wives and lots of princesses. You’ve probably been lying to me all along! You’re just like all the others that think I’m a monster! I hate you! I hate this hospital, I hate America, I hate everything!”

She pointed in the direction of the playroom and finished, “But most of all, I hate not being just a little girl like the other girls out there!”

My heart was breaking and I really wanted to cry, but I smiled and said, “You can scream your pretty little head off until the cows come home and I’ll still be here for you.”

WHAP!

She hit me right across the face. She stuck out her chin and said, “How about now? Do you still love me or are you going to do like the Americans in Iraq and blow me up. Maybe you’ll take my other foot. Will that make you happy?

Now, I was crying. I looked at her and said, “Hibbah, if you had no legs at all, and you had scars all over your body, I would still love you. I will be right here, now, tomorrow and forever if that’s what it takes. If it makes you feel any better, then you can slap me every day, but I’ll never stop loving and caring about you. Love is forever. It sees no ugliness, only the beauty in your heart. It doesn’t care whether we have one foot or two, and love doesn’t leave you when things are hard.

“I will tell you a secret. When I first saw you lying in this bed asleep, right after your surgery I wanted to run away. I saw you asleep with all kinds of tubes and wires attached to you and it broke my heart to see you like that and I was afraid. Not because of you or what you looked like, but because of me. I was a coward and I didn’t think I was as brave or as strong as you. In order to be a friend and love someone, a person has to be willing to suffer. I didn’t think I could be brave enough to suffer while you suffered.

“But Allah has been good to me and opened my heart to you. You are definitely a princess because the moment I looked into your beautiful, warm and loving brown eyes, you stole a piece of my heart. If I left you now, it would be like ripping my heart out of my chest. I will suffer with you, hurt with you and cry with you. At night my family and I try our best to think of ways to make life easier for you and your mom so that you can concentrate on getting better.

“That’s my promise to you. Now, what do you want to do? Do you want to hit me again, or do I get my princess hug?”

Hibbah broke down sobbing. I gently held her as she melted into me and cried her little heart out. She shook her head saying, “Why me, why me, why did this have to happen to me?”

I kissed the top of her head and replied, “Sweetheart, that’s one answer I don’t have. When we go to meet Allah, you can ask Him.”

She sniffed and started to compose herself. She looked up at me and I smiled. She rubbed the side of my face and said, “I’m sorry I hit you, Sean. I feel so bad because all you’ve ever done is be nice to me and Mama and tried to help us. I don’t know why I did it, but I just couldn’t help it.”

I gave her a gentle squeeze and chuckled replying, “I understand, just don’t show my wives how to swing like that or I’ll be in the hospital bed right next to you.”

Hibbah slapped my chest and giggled saying, “Stop it! I’m trying to be mad at the world for taking my foot! You always know how to make me laugh.”

“Well,” I chuckled, “I’d rather make you laugh than get a right hook to the jaw! Boy, you sure pack a punch for a princess!”

She nodded and replied, “Yeah, us girls had to fight sometimes, otherwise the boys would just beat on us. After I beat a couple of them up, they didn’t bother me.”

I play-punched her arm and said, “I guess so! You almost took my head off!”

She went “Humpf” and retorted, “Boy, you must be a real sissy for little girl like me to hurt you.”

“I’m a lover, not a fighter

“Is that why you have four wives because you like to do that loving stuff with them?”

I started to laugh and answered, “Yeah, something like that.”

“Hibbah!” Aziza scolded, “You apologize right now!”

“I’m sorry. I guess I shouldn’t have said that, huh?”

“Well,” I grinned at her, “That’s not something we talk about.”

“I know, Hamooze showed me his pee-pee finger and tried to get me to play with that disgusting thing once and said it was a secret.”

“You didn’t, did you?”

“Are you crazy? Eeeuuww! I don’t want to touch some boy’s dirty pee-pee finger!”

I rolled my eyes to Aziza and said to the child, “Good girl.”

“Hibbah,” Aziza interrupted, “I think you’ve done enough damage for one day. I think you should lie down and rest. Say goodbye to Sean so he can go home and get things ready for you to come live with him.”

Hibbah stretched her arm out and I leaned in for a hug. She kissed me and drew me close saying, “You’re not mad that I hit you, are you? I really am very sorry, and I do love you. I could never hate you. I was just angry. You don’t hate me, do you?”

“No, Sweetie, I could never hate you. And I think you have a right to be angry. If the same thing happened to me, I’d be more than angry, I’d be… well, I can’t say that. But you can believe that I’d be really, really mad.”

She looked up at me with those baby browns giving me the puppy-dog eyes and asked, “Do you still love me?”

“Of course I still love you! Hibbah, always remember that I will always love you —forever and ever.”

“Good, ‘cause you promised to buy me a foot, remember?”

“With toenails you can paint, right?”

“Right!”

“Now give me my princess kiss so I can go home to my other princesses and meet your new translator, okay?”

She leaned in and gave me a very soft, tender kiss. It was so sweet it brought tears to my eyes.  

____________________________________________________

After kissing Mioko goodbye, I left for home about three. I was driving up Route 32 when I saw what looked like Monaavi’s Toyota van ahead. I sped up and looked at the license plate and sure enough, it was. I chuckled inside and thought, If Jamila gets her stuff unpacked early enough, I might be able to pick Aziza up tonight and bring her home.

I followed her all the way to the house and by the way the van lurched when she pulled into the driveway, I may have scared her when the gate seemed to open by itself. She hit the gas and drove on up to the house with me following close behind. When we got out of the cars, she let out a gasp and said, “It’s you! You scared me to death back there! I thought some pervert was following me.”

I chuckled and replied, “Well, my wives call me a letch, but you’re safe with me. I spotted you a mile or so back and recognized the plates. Come on, let me help you get your stuff inside.”

I lifted the tailgate and grabbed a suitcase and it flew open, spilling out all her panties, bras and other lingerie. I apologized and when I started putting her things back into the suitcase, she blushed twenty shades of pink all the way down to her size D breasts. I saw her embarrassment and said, “I’m sorry, but with four wives and two preteen girls in the house, seeing w omens' underwear is nothing special.”

I resecured the suitcase and grabbed two more. She picked up a couple of boxes and followed me into the house. After reintroducing her to everyone, I led her upstairs to one of the new bedrooms. She about peed herself when she saw the size of the room with its adjoining bath. I asked her how long it would take her to get unpacked because I wanted to bring Aziza home this evening. She said she’d unpack her clothes and a few toiletries and be finished in an hour or so. I thanked her and said that after dinner, she would ride to the hospital and meet her new charges.

Priya came home from class with Tina in tow a little while later. I could never get used to seeing someone talk with one of those Bluetooth things in their ear because it looks like they’re talking to themselves. Tina gave me a peck and a “Hi, Daddy” and trotted up the back stairs to her room yacking into space.

I looked at Priya and she just shrugged and raised an eyebrow. We sat and had tea while Pita fixed dinner. Monaavi and Leeya were in the new classroom giving the twins and Tiya their daily lessons. Priya said to me, “I see the van is parked side. Is Jamila here?”

“Yeah, she and I arrived about fifteen minutes ago. I scared her to death because she didn’t know I was behind her and when she pulled into the drive, the gate automatically opened. Then, when I was pulling one of her suitcases out of the van, it flew open and spilled all her lingerie.”

“I know, you just wanted to see what she uses to hold up those bazongas she’s got.”

“Bazongas? That’s a new one, but she sure does have some udders!”

“You’re incorrigible! Where is turbo-tits now?”

“I’m incorrigible? You’ve got a lot of room calling the kettle black. Turbo-tits?”

“Watch it, Letch, with the black jokes. I was just pulling your chain. Where is she, upstairs unpacking?”

“Uh huh,” I replied, “She’s going to go to the hospital with me tonight to meet Hibbah and Aziza. I’ll stop by the hotel, pay her bill and bring her home with me. Could you please make sure there are clean sheets on a bed in one of the new bedrooms?”

“Why sure, Master, I’ll get right on it. Anyway, it’s already done. Leeya and Monaavi put clean sheets on all the beds yesterday. We knew Jamila was coming and didn’t know which room she’d be using. Where’s Malina?”

“Haven’t seen her, she’s probably out with Mom somewhere.”

She looked over at my cheek and brushed it with her hand and asked, “What happened to you, you look like you got slapped? Fondling Jamila’s underwear?”

“Why do you think that?” I thought, What, are these women clairvoyant or something?

“Because, you dork,” she retorted as she gave me a love slap, “You’ve got a hand print on your face.”

I chuckled and answered, “I didn’t get slapped; I almost got my teeth knocked out. Hibbah had a bad reaction to how some of the kids’ acted when they saw her facial scar and stump. She was a little hurt and angry. She took it out on me.”

“That’s what you get for molesting little girls.”

“Don’t even joke about her like that, Beloved. I can’t imagine what that little girl is going through. It just rips my guts out.”

“I’m sorry. You know I didn’t mean anything by it. So she really smacked you, did she?”

“And how!” I answered shaking my head. I added, “I just can’t imagine one of our girls losing a foot and having the scar on her face like Hibbah has. When you see it, it will literally break your heart.”

Priya took my hand and said, “Sean, it will all be alright. It will be hard; hard on all of us, but we’ll make it; and so will she. Leeya will mother her like a mother hen; she’s been talking about it for days. Speaking of mothers, you haven’t been spoiling your new mommies lately. Maybe when you get home, you can give them all a foot massage or something.” She giggled and added, “Seeing it’s my night, I’ll take a good ass fucking instead.”

Just then, we heard a gasp behind us. We turned and Jamila was standing at the bottom of the stairs. She blushed and said shyly, “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I’ll just pretend I didn’t hear that.”

Priya and I looked at each other and started laughing. I told her, “Sit down, Jamila. I guess I’d better fill you in on how things are around here. I’d appreciate it if what you see and hear in our home stays in our home. Do you understand?”

She nodded and replied, “I understand completely. I’m twenty-three and Father treats me like I’m ten. I didn’t mean to hear that, but I’m glad you treated me like an adult and didn’t make a big deal about it. ”

“Well, as far as we’re concerned, you are a legal adult and we’ll treat you like one. As for us,” I began, “we joke a lot about sex. My four wives have no secrets and they are not ashamed of our private life. We believe that sex, when talked about openly is a healthy thing. I know your father would think otherwise, but to each his own. It’s hard to be married to four women and we all share the same bed and not talk about it.”

“I understand,” she replied, “I think. It’ll just take some getting used to seeing a thirteen year-old girl that’s been married for eight years and is pregnant.”

We just smiled. She then asked, “Sean, do you expect me to wear my veil in the house?”

“Jamila,” I answered, “whatever you’re comfortable with. If you don’t feel comfortable being unveiled in front of Dad and me, then keep it on. If you’re okay with it, then we are too. My father happens to love my wives’ black hair. Alright, so do I.”

“I’m not as strict or fundamental as my dad,” Jamila said as she removed her veil. “All my friends call me Jamie. It’s not as formal as Jamila. In fact, if father wouldn’t be so anal about things I wouldn’t even wear a veil.”

“We are pretty easy going,” Priya replied, “but we do wear veils outside and in public. We try to be proper when in public and give people a good impression of Muslims.”

“At home though,” I cut in, “they’re a bunch of potty-mouthed hussies.”

Priya smiled and Jamie giggled.

Just then, Mom came in the back door with Malina on her hip and a couple of shopping bags. She put Malina down and she scampered to Priya. Mom came to the table and plopped down in a chair with a “Whew! Either I’m getting old, or she’s taking steroids!”

She looked at our guest and said, “Hi, Jamila, I see you finally made it. Well, what do you think of your accommodations?”

“Thank you, Ma’am. The room is bigger than any I’ve ever had; and my own private bathroom. I can’t believe it!”

“Ma’am? I know I’m old enough to be your mother, but pull-leese don’t call me that. If you’re going to become an adopted Michaels, then call me Mom or Joan. I’m glad you like your room. How’d the move go?”

Priya cut in saying as she gave Jamie a wink, “The letch was rummaging through Jamie’s underwear and she slapped him silly, didn’t you? Look at the hand print on his face, Mom.”

“I’m innocent,” I exclaimed, raising my hands.

Jamie started laughing and said, “My gosh, Sean, if you wanted to feel my underwear, all you had to do was ask.”

Mom shook her head and “You didn’t really, did you?”

“No, Mom, I didn’t. Hibbah received some pretty upsetting reactions from the other kids when she was wheeled into the playroom. Later, she vented her anger and gave me a right cross. I thought she knocked a couple of teeth loose.”

Mom turned my face and asked, “An eight year-old girl hit you hard enough leave this hand print?”

“She sure did!”

Mom just shook her head. “Damn! And I thought us Irish girls had tempers.”

Lessons were over and the twins came barreling into the kitchen area trying to steal a snack. Pita ran them off with a spoon, telling them to get out. They just giggled as they shot out the back door. Tiya came in and gave me a peck, batted her eyelashes and said, “I’m still waiting, Sean,” and headed upstairs.

Jamila watched her go up the stairs and asked, “What’s she waiting for?”

I replied, “She’s waiting for me to make her pregnant.”

“Surely you’re joking, right?”

“Yes, Jamie, I’m definitely joking. It’s an inside joke with us; just some harmless horsing around.”

Dad rolled in and Miko followed five minutes later. I spent ten minutes looking for the two she-devils incarnate. They were in the barn throwing hay at Kali. I asked “Lizzy the Ringleader” what they were doing. She said, “What’s it look like we’re doing, Dad? We’re feeding Mom’s horse. Jeez, Cin, and to think he’s a genius.”

The older mirror twin added her two cents with “Me Ma says all men are stupid like boys. She should know, she’s the boss of everything.”

“That’s it!” I said firmly, “You’ve hurt your Daddy’s feelings and now I’m going to the house to cry. It’s time for dinner so go in and get washed up.” With that, I tuned and left. I heard them giggling.

After rounding up the urchins, we sat down to eat. I told Tina, “Tina, take that thing out of your ear. You don’t need it to eat.”

“Daah—dee! I might miss a call!”

“You’ll live, I promise. Now, take it out of your ear or I’ll have your phone turned off.

“GASP!!! You wouldn’t! You couldn’t! That’s cruel and unusual punishment!”

“No, my yackity princess; paying the bill for that thing is cruel and unusual punishment. Any chance you could limit your texts to about a thousand a day?”

She turned to Jamila and said, “See what we girls have to put up with? All my girlfriends think he’s such a god, but he’s just a mean, old Dad.”

Mom and Priya both said, “Ouch!”

“That’s it!” I said, feigning anger. “All of my daughters have hurt my feelings tonight. So, after dinner, if I don’t get lots of hugs and kisses, I’ll come into your rooms tonight while you’re sleeping and tickle-torture you to death!”

Well, we got through dinner and Daddy got his hugs and kisses. All was forgiven until the next princess uprising. Jamila and I left for the thirty minute ride to the hospital at seven. I wanted to have about thirty minutes to introduce Jamie to Hibbah and I also wanted to see if she was still angry or upset.

On the drive, I gave Jamie a detailed description of Hibbah’s wounds. I told her, if possible, not to show any revulsion or rejection towards her. I also told her that Hibbah was very intuitive and sensitive and could spot insincerity a mile away.

I also shared my opinion on the war that had done this to her. I told Jamie, “Whatever your opinion – about anything — don’t ever be afraid to speak your mind. You’re going to be living with us for a year. You’ll be like family. In our family, everyone’s opinion is respected — even if we disagree.”

“This will take some getting used to,” she replied. “Daddy is always right and we’re never allowed to disagree. Sometimes I wonder why he and Mama spent all the money to educate me only to have me keep my mouth shut and never express my views.”

“Well, in our house, Dad and I are seriously outnumbered. The women — and the girls — wouldn’t know how to keep their mouths shut.”

We pulled into the hospital entrance and found a parking space quickly in the garage. As we were walking into the building I told her, “Alright, Jamie, now you job begins. They will take up every bit of your time for the next year. Ready?”

“Yes, I’m a little scared, but I really want to do this.”

“From this point on, I want you to translate literally everything they say word-for-word, if possible. All right?”

“Yes, Sean, I’ll do my best.”

After getting our visitor’s passes, we caught the elevator to the childrens' ward on the fourth floor.