Chapter 13 Scenes on a Saturday Afternoon

(Author's note: If the events of the chapter appeared onscreen some of them might be rated R. Being merely in print, the T rating should still apply)

Grace's cell phone rang the next morning while she was getting dressed in Kevin's room. She answered it, glad that cell phones did not give away locations. If people knew that she spent Friday nights at her boyfriend's house, they might draw obvious and wrong conclusions.

"Hullo. This is Maggie. I have a couple of things to ask."

"Go ahead."

"First, there are some things that I have seen at school that I would like to ask you about. Would you like to go riding today?"

"OK, but it will have to be afternoon. I attend synagogue in the morning."

"That is good. The other thing is, my father wants to learn about American-rules football, because he has promised to help with the Homecoming match. But we cannot find an explanation of the rules. Can you help us?"

"I'm not sure -- oh! I've got it. Kevin Girardi. He played in high school, and he'd probably be glad to explain it. I'll get it touch with him."

After getting dressed and walking out of the room, Grace met Joan. The girl agreed that Kevin would be good to consult and offered to arrange the meeting. After that the girls separated, each on their own errands for the day.

----

Joan visited Adam in the old garage/shed that he used for his art. Bonnie had long since learned to stay in the house and out of the way when Joan came to visit. Joan noted that Adam's focus had gradually shifted from sculpture to painting over the past two years, maybe due to her mother's influence. She asked him whether he had any new works in mind.

"I've been thinking of our conversation last week--"

"You have?" replied Joan, horrified.

"Nudity isn't just a matter of pornography. It's also an important genre of art -- "

"Adam, are you asking me to pose topless? Because everybody who sees the picture will know what my -- chest -- looks like!"

"No, no. In the picture I have in mind, you'll just be visible from the back. I won't even see your, um, things, and since your face won't be visible, nobody will know it's you."

Except for all the people who know I'm Adam's girlfriend. In particular, Mom. But if I do this, Adam can never complain that I'm neglecting him. And if I don't, Adam will wonder if I'll ever build up the nerve to make love with him this year, as I promised. I've got to keep in mind that he isn't just a boy who likes fantasizing about seeing his girlfriend naked. He's an artist who's won awards, and he wants me as his Muse.

"OK," Joan said, steeling herself for the ordeal. "I'll pose for you. But I have conditions."

"Sure. What are they?"

"You stay several feet behind me the entire time. Make sure nobody comes in or sees what's going on. And I call the shots. If I say stop, we stop -- immediately! Are you cool with that?"

"Cool."

---------

As Grace drove up to the Moorish house, she saw Maggie standing at the fence, in jodhpurs and riding boots. Of course, the family was in the horse-breeding business, so they'd be expected to have the special clothing. Grace would have to make do with jeans and sneakers.

"Come on out back to the stable," Maggie called. "I will give you your choice of the horses."

"I'm not really a connoisseur," said Grace. "Just something docile, so that I can talk without worrying about keeping my horse under control." It was a frank admission of weakness, something that she had been unwilling to admit during her first visit.

"Yes, talking is the main thing. I have been keeping quiet at school and trying to fit in, but some things simply bewilder me."

----

Professor Begh met the American couple outside of the school's stadium. The young man in the wheelchair was easy to spot.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Mr. Girardi."

"Call me Kevin. Actually this fulfills a sort of dream of mine, being a commentator at a game. This is my wife, Lily."

"Enchante. Miss Polk told me some things about you, Mrs. Girardi."

"It couldn't have been too accurate, if you still consider me 'enchanting'" observed Lily cheerfully.

"Are you interested in American football, Mrs. Girardi?" continued the professor, not quite sure what to make of her crack.

"Surfin's more my thing, but since getting married I've tried to interest myself in my husband's sports."

"Yeah," agreed Kevin. "She does the jumping-up-and-down on my behalf."

---------------

In the shed's small closet, Joan took off her blouse, then unhooked her bra. She picked up her blouse again and held it against her chest. "Ready, Adam?

"Yeah, I've set up a bench for you to sit on."

"OK. Turn around, and stay turned around until I give the word. I'm coming out."

Joan charged out of the closet and sat down on the bench with her back to Adam. Finally she built up the nerve to drop her blouse to the floor. "OK."

Joan heard a gasp behind her as Adam saw her partly naked for the first time. Is this playing with fire? I'm not sure what happened to Glynis. She said she was flirting with Friedmann and things got out of hand. But Adam seemed to recover quickly. "Look off into the distance." He directed.

"There isn't any distance, and you can't see my eyes."

"Pretend that there's distance. It'll help with the body language."

Joan tried, and discovered that it seemed to work. Now that she was no longer looking down self-consciously at her breasts, she could pretend to herself that they were decently covered. She wished she could see what Adam was doing, but her own conditions required him to be out of sight. She could hear a slight swishing sound -- pen across paper -- and when he started talking again, he sounded amazingly matter-of-fact. Maybe he realized she needed distraction. Or that he did.

"You told me a couple of weeks ago that there's another senior pregnant. Bonnie thinks it's Glynis. She says she recognizes the signs."

"Keep it under your hat, will you?" urged Joan. "Glynis is terrified of being ridiculed, and the father's worse. He won't even stand by her."

"Friedmann?"

"Yeah."

"That's terrible," Adam said indignantly. "If I can give Bonnie shelter, with some other guy's baby, he should support Glynis. They've been friends ever since I've known them. Should I talk to him?"

"You can try. Luke and I have both made the attempt."

"Maybe Grace can threaten to beat him up. He's always been scared of her."

"Violent thoughts from you, Adam? No, this has to be his free will, if only we could find the right argument." God wouldn't give me an impossible mission, would He? Well, He did once, but that was to teach a lesson. What would be the point now?

----

As Grace settled into the saddle, she felt another rush of excitement. At the Autumn Festival it had tempted her into galloping away from the other girls and isolating herself. This time she tried to analyze her own response.

It was a feeling of power, she thought. On a horse her head was nearly eight feet off the ground. And a flick of the reins could have her dashing across the fields several times faster than she could run under her own power. It was pleasant compensation for a girl who, for much of her life, felt helplessly trapped by home and school, with no outlet but making snarky remarks.

Meanwhile, she could have a pleasant chat with Maggie.

"So what did you want to talk about?" as they trotted into the field.

"I am worried about the attack on our mosque. I was afraid it was a matter of anti-Muslim sentiment. But others do not seem to think so."

"No. There's a crazy running around Arcadia attacking various religious buildings. He's not targeting Muslims in particular." Grace wished that she could explain about Hunter. But that was too tangled up with other secrets which she didn't want to discuss. "Have you been harassed at school?"

"Nobody tried to attack me since that first day. A few rude comments, but people around the hecklers tell them to "chill" and are careful to apologize to me. Nothing too bad."

---------------

The three spectators watched as the opposing team tackled the player with the ball.

"You say that each play ends with somebody tripping the ball-carrier?" echoed the professor. "It sounds rather violent to me."

"Yeah, but over the decades we've invented padding, and careful rules about how to tackle somebody," Kevin said, somewhat defensively.
"People rarely get hurt".

"Are you familiar with football as it's played outside the U.S.? Physical contact is forbidden."

"Yeah, it's called soccer here. Children learn it in school."

"The moral of the story," remarked Lily with mock innocence, "is that violence is for adults."

----------

"All right, Jane. It's done."

"Thank goodness. Now, turn around while make myself decent."

"You're always decent, Jane, but I know what you mean. I've turned around now."

She picked up the blouse and put it on, without bothering with the bra. She made a mental note to retrieve it from the closet and stick in her purse. The last thing anybody needed at the moment was for somebody to find girl's underwear in the Adam's closet and wonder how it got there.

"Can I see?" asked Joan, holding out her hand for the sketch. "Awesome!"

Though it seemed egotistic to think so, Joan thought her image looked beautiful. No background, just a female figure with luxurious hair and sleek back. She looked more like a nymph in ancient Greece than an amateur model in a converted garage. For years Joan had had a body image of herself as rather dumpy. Now she knew that she looked alluring, at least in Adam's eyes.

-----------------------

"Is anything else bothering you?" Grace asked. The thrill of riding was beginning to pall, as she realized the sense of power was illusory. In a car she had more energy at her disposal than on a horse, though in the latter case the feeling was more novel and more direct. And it wasn't really Grace's power at all. She was able to ride a horse only because she had a rich friend who had provided one to her. And because she lived in a world where one species could exploit another simply by paying money for it.

Grace would never be one of those girls who simply got a kick out of horseback riding. Her mindset was too wrong. But she remembered the prophecy from Cowgirl God, that someday her equestrienne skills would save somebody's life. She was justified in staying in practice.

"Odd American customs," replied Maggie. "Like that girl who announced at my party, that she was with child. In my home village having a child and no husband would be a disgrace."

"Yeah. Well, here people sort of let you do your own thing, as long as you take responsibility for it. The conservative people who would normally despise Bonnie are actually inclined to admire her for not getting an abortion."

"Still, at home she would be considered a whore."

"You should have heard some of the names Joan called her last spring. I bet some of them weren't in your English vocabulary lessons. But, Maggie, some girls are sexually active but don't get pregnant because they're careful to use protection. Are they whores?"

"It's a different culture here -- " she did a double take and stared at Grace. "You mean you--"

"No, I was talking in general. I'm still a virgin. So is Joan, I'm sure." Joan's panic when Adam tried to bed her last year proved that. Though I promised Joan I'd never repeat that story.

"So you're waiting for marriage?"

That's a good question. Exactly what am I waiting for?

--------------------

Surprisingly, what really interested Professor Begh was the half-time show. "The marching band was originally a Turkish invention. They would accompany the Janissaries into battle and encourage them with their music. See the conductor's elaborate costume? It's Ottoman in origin. When composers like Mozart wrote pieces featuring drums and other percussion, their contemporaries called it 'Turkish music'. They weren't assimilated into European music until Beethoven's time, a generation later."

Eventually the halftime show ended and the third quarter started. The Arcadia team kicked off, but scarcely had the other side caught the ball when the Arcadians brought it down, on its own 30th yard line. The Arcadia fans went wild. Even Lily, whose connection to the high school were quite indirect, jumped up and shouted:

"Go, Eagles! Give 'em hell!"

Professor Begh looked quizzically at Kevin. "Um, wasn't I informed that your wife used to be a religieuse?"

---------------

When Joan got home, her mother stared at her. "Honey, why is your blouse so wrinkled?"

Joan decided on a half-truth. "Adam and I were hugging and kissing a lot this afternoon. Do you mind, Mom?" she added with real annoyance. "I'm just two months from turning 18!"

"Yes, and that scares me." As Joan glared, her mother sighed. "OK, I'll let things slide. As long as you two keep your clothes on--"

"Um, cool."