Jamila 3

I tell Norbert, "but other than ending up a woman, I did ok. Perfectly healthy, tons of money in the bank, job she enjoys and does well. Must be a relaxed lifestyle, looks 15 years younger than her age. Would you believe, committed suicide over a weekend of sex?"
"Surely there are not such people in the world. Tell me more."
"Canadian citizen, German ancestry, circa 2000 Canada."
"Sounds interesting! One of the most tolerant open-minded times and places. Lotta scope to enjoy life."
"Yep, few days library reading and I'm on. Took aspirin, slow-acting. Just gotta throw it up and right as rain."
I've already planned my attack. Corps training, experience and my own judgment says attack head-on. Better mileage facing the demons directly than running.
I'm going to that coffee house every Saturday til I run into those Afghan bimbos. Gonna blister behind, if one ain't interested, others will be.
They aren't in the coffee house when I arrive, show 10 minutes later.
Parvana grins wickedly, "you got nerve, coming back here. We thought you were chicken."
"You," I say pointedly, "toast, faithless person that you are. Resta you want a spanking, hey I'm happy to oblige."
Sonali grins, "and who will be Princess deign to take to bed?"
"I'll roll the dice, but after the paddling."
Arezou, Sonali, Fereshta look at each other, "what we waiting for? Let's go."
Parvana protests, "we're all friends, you can't run off on me. Gotta at least let me watch. It is partly my apartment."
"So it is," I retort, "we can still spank in one of the private rooms." I see her dejected look. "Ok, you can watch. But tied to a chair, no action for you after that pizza phone number."
After the spanks, I roll dice and it's Sonali.
I take mercy on Parvana, untie her so she can join in with the rest.
Sonali and I adjourn to her room.
Hugging me tight, she purrs, "wow, you really changed. My guess, you took a few weeks to read up on modern ways."
"You're right, I have been reading."
After, we sit around languorously. Parvana says quietly, "you're ok, after all. So, no hard feelings?"
"No."
"So next time I get paddled too?"
"Gotta earn it. First time, Arezou does it. Second, Fereshta. Third, I'll do it, if you behave."
She smiles, "well at least that promises longevity. As you wish Mistress."
Arezou smiles, "first prize to our friend here for a superb job of adjusting. Before you were so tentative, so sheepish. Now, perfect army sgt-major tone, perfect for S&M. You've been reading, right?"
I grin, "girls, I view a setback as a challenge. To learn, change. Yeah, maybe I was too old-fashioned."
Sonali hugs me, "well you still got a ways to go. That dress ain't been in style since 1850. I'd be happy to go shopping with you."
"Why thank you so much. Nothing too risque."
They all laugh.
Parvana, "ain't nothing else in the stores anymore kid. Medium-duty risque, heavy-duty risque or prostitute style."
"Ah, I'll choose medium-duty."
Sonali strokes my hair, "I'll be happy to help. You ah do have funds for shopping?"
"By a happy coincidence, I do indeed have a small sum in my bank account."
"Think you can manage $1,000?"
"Sure."
Parvana guffaws, "just can't get over it, total change of tone, posture, everything. Suppose you could take mercy on me, give me a paddling now? Please."
I see the faces, see they want their friend included.
"Sure, slave, right away."

As I leave the girls' apartment Sunday evening, I'm full of self-congratulation. I faced up to and defeated the fears which killed the poor original Lily. Yes, sex was nice too.
By Monday noon, I'm a lot less smug. This bites. These women act like Error Corrections is so difficult, the most complex thing in Revenue. Yet to me it's wildly simplistic. I mean compared to paper in the Corps or codes or map-reading and navigation on dozens of strange worlds or electronic repair. By lunch, I'm bored to death.
A woman, maybe 60, slides into my cubicle. Memory says Agnes, team leader.
Just above a whisper, "Lily, you feeling ok?"
"How do you mean, Agnes?"
"This morning, you looked cheerful. Now you look depressed, wiped."
I try a wan smile, "just the Monday blues."
"No, more than that," puts her hand on my forehead, "well, least it isn't a fever. Dear, it's an awful job, not fit for man nor beast, that's why they give it to women. Just can't win, those pigs get all the good jobs."
"So it appears."
She grins, "well, that's the spirit, usually you won't even say that. Men, only thing they're good for is keeping the racetrack, bars and hookers in business."
"Agnes, if they didn't do that, there would be more unemployment."
She laughs, "and so there would. And if they didn't screw up so much, this unit would be a quarter of the size. So we do have them to thank for jobs. But isn't that like expecting blacks to thank Massa for the privilege of picking cotton."
I grin, "once again, I find myself defeated by your logic."
"Kid, you gotta start reading Chatelaine, find out how it really is. Bring you several back issues tomorrow."
"Thank you."

I arrive home after work feeling awful, totally wiped. Sonali and I have an agreement, we're weekend only people. She is a busy grad student/sessional lecturer.
As I stare out the window, lost in thought, I start to realize the sort of pressures which led to Lily's suicide. Yeah, lot harder tour than I first thought.
Can't be bothered to cook, just eat bun and cottage cheese. No wonder Lily was always so thin.
TV is dreck. We got better stuff on our handhelds, even in combat zones.
I go down to the store, buy a newspaper. Half hour later, I'm in shock. Talk about one-sided corporate drivel. Publish news like that on my world, you'd be outa business. Gotta be more objective, more thorough, not serve up room-temperature oatmeal.
Next day after work, I go to Hub Cigar and News, the most famous newsstand in western Canada. Hour of browse, I find what I want. "Le Monde" published in France, in French of course. Not your typical newspaper short drivel, a newsmagazine style of writing.
Two hours of reading and I know I've found a reliable window on this strange century. I'll be back next week. Good crisp writing, like our Intel reports.
Next evening I try Chatelaine. Wow, I really do got a lot to learn. See Lily herself wasn't doing that good of a job of being a woman. Me, I'm a long ways behind her.
Evenings take an eternity passing. I'm used to sgt mess, fun conversation with a rainbow of people, white, black, Native, East Indian. Being alone is something I've only experienced on leave.
By Friday, I realize I'm totally unimpressed by Lily's world.

Saturday morning, my slaves are all in a row, naked, on hands and knees.
I grin, "well slaves, did everyone behave this week? No one cheated and found another Mistress?"
They all vigorously protest I'm their one and only.
Do you suppose in one week I've become a bureaucrat? That is, dead from Monday to Friday, live for the weekend. Scary thought!
A morning of fun, then Sonali and I go shop at the world-famous West Edmonton Mall. I'm in shock, everything so trampish. After a hard afternoon, all we agree on is one ankle-length skirt.
Riding back on the bus, she says, "I suspect you have a thing about shaving you legs. I mean come on, hair is downy. So, determined to get through life without shaving?"
I blush, don't reply.
"You are so far out of date, it's incredible. You smarten up or I dump you. Think I like being seen in public with you? Like a 'Gone with the Wind' movie."
A girl behind chirps in, "listen to her dear, she's right."
Sonali turns, "shut up. Between me and her you pig."
"Sorry for trying to be helpful."
What a revolting thought? Shave my legs indeed! I'd rather take the razor and slash my wrists. Or wrestle a polar bear. Shave my legs? Yuck! Double yuck!
Sonali continues, "look kid, think you could accept enough of the modern world to - gasp - actually wear something just below the knees?"
"Are you trying to be sarcastic?"
"Brilliant friend, you catch right on. Next time you buy something proper or you and I are through."
Girl behind chirps in again, "me, I think you're kinda cute, even if your mother does dress you funny. Lemme give you my phone number.
Sonali gasps, "shut up or you'll be missing teeth."
The girl leaves, her stop.