Adalil

{I Minnie,}

Dr Abarca and his relations are cordial enough towards her, but the status line is severely drawn. Minnie takes the dusting cloth from her apron and polishes the dining table, carefully lifting up objects with her left hand and wiping the reveal with her right. She takes pride from replacing the item back in exactly the same position.

The room is beginning to suffocate her with its opulence and she decides to finish it later. A welcoming breeze suffuses the hall as she opens the front door. Identical houses demarcated by identical railings stretch up and down the street. Minnie transfers her weight to the broom. It is frightening how quickly the normal has changed. What has once been strange is now familiar, and what was once normal will be difficult to accept when it inevitably returns.

The pavements are sparse except for the occasional nanny pushing their bassinets. If the Central Powers win this Great War, what will they think of London? If they havn't seen all of the Englishmen to kill them, they will not have known that any existed.

{Take you, Theodore}

The young sailor walks off of the BB.Arizona, holding his collar tightly. The war memorial that will be erected four years after the end of the war, on the North-East corner of Central Avenue and Indian School Road, will declare in dead stone that he was enlisted from The Phoenix Indian School.

Stepping onto the British soil, he recalls what the Head Master said on his first day; “The purpose of this school is to introduce Indian youth to the opportunities and responsibilities of civilisation and to acquaint his Caucasian brother with the sterling qualities of the Native American.”

Looking at this 'civilised' world, which is currently at war with itself, Theodore longs to be at home with his tribe.

{To be my husband,}

Minnie sees a menagerie of men, parading outside the Grocery. It is clear that they are not English.

“Hey, darlin',” cries a tall chap with short black hair. Minnie scans the group. Identical hair. Identical Navy uniforms. She imagines them all with a cord coming out of their back and knows that if she pulls it they will all say the same thing.

“Hey, darlin',” the seaman says again.

“Good Morning.”

Suddenly, the group enclose her.

“And what is your name?”

Minnie tries to see a way out of the blue sea. She looks to the entrance of the Grocery store, noticing a sailor who is standing alone, watching her. Minnie feels her whole motion through her eyes.

“What is your name, darlin?”

“Minnie,” she replies, her gaze still on the darker skinned seaman.

The black haired chap who is quizzing her, noticing her inattention, follows her sight line.

“I know,” he says. “Indians in the Navy. Hell, none of them have ever seen the sea let alone sailed on one. Still, if we don't civilise them who will?” The group laughs.

“Please, excuse me,” Minnie says. “I wish to purchase my groceries.”

The chap makes a sweep with his arm, allowing Minnie passage.

Minnie doesn't know why she says what she does next. Many years later, when her daughter asks about her father and this meeting, Minnie will reply that she did so because she knew what his answer would be.

“There's no need to hold the door open for me. I'm not a lady.”

“I'm doing it because I'm a gentleman.”

“Thank you,” she says.

The stranger nods, allowing the door to close behind her under its own volition.

{For better, for worse,}

“You're very literate for a Native American Indian.”

“I've always been literate. I was just forced to learn your language.”

“And what is your language?”

“Tsalagi. But you would call it Cherokee.”

“You speak English very well.”

“Thank you. And you listen English very well.”

“Listen to English.”

“Yes. Sorry.” Minnie notices Theodore blush, becoming embarrassed herself.

“Tell me a Cherokee word.”

“What would you like to know?”

Minnie thinks and says, “Who am I?” Theodore is about to say something but stops. Minnie prompts him. “What is the word for woman?”

“Agiya,” he replies.

“A-gi-ya,” Minnie intones.

Theodore laughs gently, drinking from his tea cup. Minnie notices his hand, big and smooth.

“Uwoduhi agiya.”

“What does that mean?”

“Beautiful woman.”

It is now Minnie's turn to blush.

“And what are you?”

“Asgaya.”

“A-s-ga-ya.”

“Man and woman.”

“Man and wife,” Minnie says automatically, almost dropping her teacup.

{For richer, for poorer,}

This isn't what Minnie has dreamt about. But then Theodore is not the man a young girl would normally dream about. Her friends and relations have made that quite clear. It isn't meant to be like this. But it feels so true. So why isn't it?

“Are you OK?” Theodore asks.

“Yes,” she replies, taking his hand. “And you?”

“Yes.”

Minnie finds his absolute assurance alarming and comforting at the same time.

It takes them a while and help from King George on a coin, to find a registry that will unite them. The witnesses they have managed to secure are strangers, which makes no difference as the world that Minnie is leaving is now so alien toward her.

“Are you going to wear a head-dress?”

“Are you mocking me?”

“A little,” she grins.

{In sickness and in health,}

Thera stirs in the sling that Minnie has tied around her front. It is a long piece of tatty material but it holds the most precious thing. Since Thera's birth her own world has shrunk. It has become so small that eventually she has to step into Theo's, or be crushed by it. As a consequence, all of the bonds that she has made over the years are broken and the Old World is quite clear that she is not welcome back.

Theodore shows her the sling days after Thera's birth. She looks at the fabric that Theodore produces and cannot fathom how it will work.

“In my tribe, all of the children are carried in a sling. We do not let their feet touch the ground until the two are ready to meet. Let me show you.”

Theodore stands behind Minnie, pulling the fabric around her waist. He brings it up over her back and shoulders, before crossing her front and tying it there. Minnie feels a kiss on the back of her neck.

“Is this safe?”

“Perfectly.”

“But what if she falls out?”

“She won't.”

Theodore carefully slips Thera into the front pouch of the sling. Minnie gasps slightly, her body recognising the arrangement as that of pregnancy. Except now, Thera is on the outside. The babe makes a contented noise, bringing her arms together and resting her head upon her mother's breast.

Minnie looks up to see Theodore smiling. Minnie smiles back.

{To love and to cherish,}

Minnie closes the door of their flat. A bedroom and a kitchen are all that they have, but all that they need. She places the bag of shopping on the table, noticing a white envelope with her name upon it.

She sits down in a chair, facing it, daring it to be what it is. Daring it to be what it is not. History dances through her head. She knows of such letters, she has heard of such situations.

Minnie turns the envelope over in her hands. It is not sealed down. She flips the flap with her thumb. Looking at the front of the envelope again: 'Adalil'

Decisively, she turns the envelope over, taking out the single sheet of paper. Unfolding it, she reads;

To my dearest Agiya

I have been posted to Constantinople, to help with the liberation.

I am sorry that I could not say goodbye.

It hurt too much.

Asgaya X

{Till death do us part,}

Thera pulls herself up into the loft. There, where her mother has said it would be, is the box. She puts the torch down, directing the light onto the box and opens the little clasp. The red lining looks vivid around the white letters.

She picks the uppermost envelope. Here is her father's hand, writing her mother's name. She decides not to read the contents. At least not yet. She places it by the box, revealing a photograph, more brown and white than black and white. Thera recognises it immediately as her father. Though she has never seen him, he is exactly how she imagines. She feels a surge of love that threatens to engulf her completely and she has to put the picture down.

And there beneath it is the document that her mother has mentioned. But Thera reads it differently to her mother. The letter from the American Navy states that Theodore Fierros has been declared Missing in Action in Constantinople and after such time has been declared dead. Thera looks to the letterhead again and the year.

“Eight years ago” Thera thinks. “And where is Constantinople?”

It is Thera's desire to locate her father and to know her ancestry, that has led her to this hideaway. She refuses to believe that her father is dead. For her, he is missing and alive.

“If he could,” her mother reasons, “he would have returned at the end of the war.”

“Maybe he's run out of money and can't get home.”

Thera takes her strength from the truth in her history and her American Indian heritage. Hence, the bullying about her brown skin is always put down by her black eyes.

Beneath this letter, is another addressed to her mother. It is not her father's as this writing is thin and scratchy. Thera opens it with intrigue.

“Dear Mrs Minnie,

I am writing to you from my reservation in Arizona. I believe that you and my son were married in your country and gave birth to a daughter.”

Thera is surprised. It is a letter from her Grandfather about her Father. About her! And her Mother has never mentioned this correspondence before.

For a very good reason.

“As you are aware, The American Navy has presumed Theodore dead, Missing in Action. As Theodore's father and guardian of his children, I insist upon the return of his daughter to her home.”

Thera looks up sharply, expecting to see the figure of her Grandfather who is speaking in her head. The voice is silent, waiting to be activated by her eyes. Instinct begins to tell her the rest of the story. Thera puts down the letter, turning the envelope over in her hands. She does not want to continue. Her body is beginning to ache from the words but her logical mind wants to know. It drags her eyes back to the letter.

“I am aware that you have been compensated for your loss, yet we have not. We must consider the welfare of the daughter. Arrangements shall be made for the return of the child. I thank you for what you have done but the daughter is no longer your responsibility.”

Atoms of thought collide in her head, creating small explosions.

Reading the final line, she begins to cry.

“Let me be clear that we want nothing to do with you.”

{According to God's holy law.}