Doc's Place

Chapter 22 | Part 6

Wednesday, October 31, 1984

Shortly after nine, I drive up Virginia Street and see the Doc's Place Woody—tacky as hell—parked in front. People are gathered about to look at it. Park, walk inside and stride past Annette sitting at her desk. She stares at me, open-mouthed. "Good morning," I say to her. Whistling softly, take the keys from her desk and open the cabinet in my office. Connect the Nikon F3 to the strobe mount, thread one roll into the camera and shove another roll into one jacket pocket.

Downstairs, I walk through the front doors and stand beside Kevin McVay. "Photos inside and out, Kevin?" I ask.

He jumps slightly and says, "You scared me, Jill! I heard Dick fired you. What are you doing here?"

"You asked me to snap photos of the Woody, remember?"

"Uh yes, please. Photos inside and out. What do you need the strobe for? It's a sunny day."

Ignoring his question, walk to the car. Holding the available light meter near the blue 1953 Buick station wagon, I watch the needle move. The previous owner covered the woody parts of the Buick in hand-tooled leather and hundreds of silver dollars. Walk around slowly, adjust the aperture and focus, snap a few photos, adjust the aperture again and snap a few more.

As I move about the Buick, Carlos walks up and asks, "You just came to work as you would any day, Price?"

Glancing at him, I say, "Yeah. Why not?"

"Maybe because I escorted you off the premises on Monday, that's why not. What am I supposed to do? Take the camera and toss your ass into the street?"

"Call your boss."

"Dick Scope will tell me. . . ."

"Your boss, Carlos."

He looks at me for a moment, frowning, and then his face breaks into a grin. "Oh okay, that explains a lot," he says with a nod. "Tell you what. I'm going to make a phone call."

Ignoring him, I finish a roll, remove it, put in a fresh roll of film and use the strobe in the interior. By the time I've finished, a small crowd of Doc's Place executives and managers have gathered about to see the show.

Morty steps up beside me as I remove the second roll of film and murmurs, "Ya got stones, Jill. I'll give you that. Showing up here after Dick himself fired you."

Glancing at him, I smile and shrug. "Minor detail."

Glenn Taylor moves up beside me too. "Just an administrative fuck-up, huh?"

"Yeah, that's it. Look, I'd stand here and shoot the breeze but I have to work, so excuse me, okay?" Upstairs, I hand the film canisters to Annette and ask her to have the lab pick them up and return the photos to Kevin, no rush.

When I turn toward my office, Louise is standing there staring at me, her arms hanging at her sides. "I didn't believe it but here you are."

"Morning, boss. Listen, we start videotaping tomorrow in meetings conducted by Dick, you and Morty. You remember that, right?"

"I remember." Behind her is standing a tall, stocky, clean-cut guy with glasses—probably Marion Drull.

Liz Coates walks up, grinning. She holds out her palm and I give her a low five. "I wanna be like you when I grow up, Jill," she says.

"You and your team ready to start the full schedule tomorrow?"

"We're ready. Meetings are scheduled with Dick, Louise and Morty." She looks at me, eyebrows raised.

"Wouldn't miss it," I tell her.

"Alright," she says, looking at something over my shoulder, "Catch you later." She turns and leaves.

Turning, I face Dick Scope and Carlos. "Morning Dick, how they hangin'?"

Louise covers her mouth and turns away, taking Drull with her.

Dick stands frowning for a moment, and says, "Get out." Turning to Carlos, he says, "Carlos, escort her out." Stepping closer to me, he murmurs, "I never want to see you in here again." When I shrug, he turns and walks away.

Carlos and I walk down the hall, take the elevator and walk out to my car, again. "See you in the morning, Carlos."

"See you tomorrow, Jill," he says. Whistling, he walks back into the casino.

At home, I put Grateful Dead on the stereo, change into coveralls and push the cherry picker next to the Camaro grill. Remove the hood, sit on the radiator with my feet in the engine compartment and remove the four-barrel Rochester carburetor. Connect the cherry picker chains to the intake manifold and take up the slack on the chains. Slide underneath and disconnect the driveline as well as the engine and transmission mounts. Using the cherry picker, I pull the engine and tranny.

Inspect the suspension and undercarriage, which appear original and unblemished. However, the collision bent the front door post and crumpled the firewall, which is why the insurance adjuster decided to total the car instead of repair it.

Stepping back, I survey the damage to and decide the collision may have tweaked the frame where it meets the front door post. Telephone a JP Performance shop in Los Angeles and discuss the Camaro with two engineers there. They ask what I've done so far.

Tell them I removed the chrome, the undamaged glass and the front quarter panel, doors, trunk and hood. Yesterday, I stripped out the interior.

The engineers tell me to crate the Camaro and the body parts, minus the engine, tranny, chrome and glass, and ship it to Los Angeles. They'll check the alignment, repair the damage, assemble the body, primer coat it and ship it back. The shipper says he'll have a tractor with a flatbed trailer, a crew and a forklift at my house by one-thirty.

By three, the Camaro is gone and I'm still listening to the Dead as I strip the engine. Spark plugs are stained with oil. Rocker arms are loose enough to clatter like a diesel. Pistons slap the scarred cylinder walls. Rings are broken. Connecting rods are visibly cracked. Since I want to keep the original L30 block and M20 transmission, I have to re-bore, which means I can't blueprint the engine to racing specifications as I had hoped to increase interest among expert buyers.

Stand back and summarize: the frame and body are on their way to LA for re-engineering; the engine requires re-bore and major overhaul; and I had already planned to rebuild the transmission. I've completely blown the Camaro budget—enough bad news for one day.

Pick up the garage phone and call Heather but she's out for the evening. Jenny asks if I want to join Sara and her but I decline. No one answers at Samantha's house, so I hang up without leaving a message. Nothing is going my way today.

After I clean the garage, take a shower, pull on boots, jeans and a shirt. Tell Soji I'm out for the evening. Take my pool cue and the Chevy pickup. First stop is the restaurant owned by Mei's father. After supper, I use the bathroom to clean my teeth.

One of the Sparks casinos has live country-western music, a big dance floor and a half dozen pool tables. This Wednesday evening, the jukebox belts out Merle Haggard to a dozen patrons at the bar and pool tables. A slim, tiny woman teaches a line dance to four stocky women. At the bar, I buy a long neck and rent a rack. The bartender glances at my pool cue case and assigns me to table one.

"Is anyone good due?" I ask.

He nods. "Local hustler gets here in an hour. Twenty bucks a rack. Band out of Sacramento picks up about nine-thirty or ten, supposed to be pretty good."

Rack for nine-ball and keep a simple, steady pace through six racks as a group slowly forms to watch, probably on the bartender's advice. A couple of handsome dance hall cowboys ask if I'd like a game but the bartender shakes his head each time. They back off when I tell them it's two hundred—up front and on the table to play at twenty a rack.

Eventually, the local hero shows up at the bar—tall, slim, dressed in black, even a black leather vest. He carries his own cue case and two fresh long necks to the table. He lays down two hundred. "Johnny," he says, "Twenty a rack?"

Nod, and say, "Jill." We lag, he breaks but nothing goes in so I take over and run through ten racks—his entire two hundred. Stuff the money in my back pocket and say thanks. Mild applause from the small crowd gathered around, watching.

By then, the band has started its first set and the bartender is right. They're good; even have a steel guitar and a female vocalist along with the male lead.

"How about a dance, Jill?" Johnny asks as we put away our cues. "Bartender will watch your stick."

"Deal," I say with a smile and follow him to the bar. After paying for the table, I ask the bartender to watch my stick for me. He locks it with Johnny's in a cabinet below the bar.

Johnny leads me out during a swing number. He's a masterful dancer. We stay on the floor for a two-step and a waltz. During the waltz, he asks, "You know what dancing is, Jill?"

Roll my eyes at this high school shit. "Prelude to fucking if you're lucky, Johnny. Closest you'll ever get if you're not."

Looks into my eyes, raises his brows and says, "I've never met a girl like you, Jill."

"Stopped being a girl half a lifetime ago, Johnny. Keep that shit up and you're walking out with someone else."

"Well, so far my luck stinks. Lost two hundred bucks and already disappointed you."

Study him and realize he's young, lacking in self-esteem, probably a loser and maybe a mean one at that. The waltz number ends and the band moves into a ten-step. "You're right," I say, "Let's make it three for three." Turn and walk to the bar. See his hand reach for my elbow, so I raise that arm and wave at the bartender.

He comes over, unlocks the cases and sets them on the bar.

"Thanks," I tell him and drop a twenty on the bar. "Is the band here through Saturday night?"

"Yep, and thanks," he says, holding up the twenty. "Get here a little earlier for table one on a weekend night."

Nod and turn to Johnny, who is standing beside me at the bar, staring at me. "Good-bye, Johnny," I tell him.

"No Jill, you don't tell me good-bye. I tell you. That's how it works. I'm not finished with you yet."

Looking at him, I shake my head and smile. Has this been my day for bad luck or what? Get escorted off my job for the second time. Blow my classic Camaro re-build budget to hell. Now this piss-ant wants to run me.

"You think this is funny?" asks Johnny.

Setting the case on the bar and relaxing, I say, "It's fucking hilarious."

He telegraphs badly—looks at his left hand as he moves his right to slap me. Ordinarily, I would end this quickly but Johnny has caught me in a good mood, so I turn my head with the swing of his hand, which sounds worse than it is. That draws everyone's attention and hopefully, a little sympathy from the surveillance crew.

"You think that's funny too?"

With my strength and training, using my hands on his head legally qualifies as use of deadly force, so I place my palms on his chest and shove.

Johnny's feet leave the floor. He lands on his back and slides into chairs and a table six feet away. He looks up at me in surprise. The band is still playing but immediately around the bar, people have stopped dancing and talking. They are turning to face us. One guy whistles.

Turning, I rest my elbows on the bar and ask the bartender, "Call Security yet?"

He nods.

Turn to watch Johnny, still on his back, shaking his head slowly. "I work over at Doc's Place. You know Carlos?"

`Yeah, he comes by sometimes. What's your name?"

"Jill Price," I say, glancing at him.

"Ted," he says and we shake. "Here they come." Ted waves the two Security guys over and explains that Johnny slapped me so I shoved him.

They look at Johnny lying on the floor, then at me relaxing at the bar.

Ted says, "Jill works over at Doc's Place. Friend of Carlos."

"You're Jill Price?" asks one of the security guys, who looks fit for about fifty years old. "You just got shot a while ago."

His partner, a young guy, powerfully built, says, "Jill Price, I know a guy who works out with you, professional bodyguard. Black guy, shiny bald head?"

Nod and say, "Sorry about this, guys. Guess he doesn't like getting beat by a girl."

"You beat Johnny at nine ball?" asks the older security guy, glancing at Ted for independent verification.

"Ten straight games," says Ted. "All Johnny did was break."

"Jesus," says the younger guy. "What do you want to do, Jill?"

Turning to Ted, I ask, "He's a good customer, right?" When Ted nods, I tell the security guys, "Talk to him. He thought I was just another girl."

The younger guy asks, "Why'd you let him slap you?"

Flicking a hand at the crowd and the cameras, I say, "Witnesses."

He nods. They walk over, help Johnny stand, take him to the far end of the bar and talk with him. Ted and I chat as we wait. Finally, they bring Johnny over to me. He apologizes, shakes my hand and leaves.

The younger security guy says, "Told him he was way out of his league. Lucky he didn't end up in the hospital."

"Thanks guys," I say.

"Carlos told me you spanked him in racquetball. Never even scored a point," says the older guard.

"Not really fair. He just learned a couple years ago. I've been sponsored for years."

"Carlos is an athlete, Jill. He's played for two years. It was fair," says the younger one. "Mind if I ask a question?" When I look at him, he asks, "How do I get in that dojo without mortgaging my trailer?"

"If you've had training and don't mind getting mauled, we can always use new sparring partners."

We talk for a few minutes. As the security guys get ready to leave the bar, I ask them to check the parking lot to make sure Johnny isn't out there planning something stupid. Ted and I continue our chat in between his serving drinks until the phone rings. He tells me the parking lot is clear. We shake hands and I get out of there.

At the gate, Jenny is talking with Yoshi. She opens the pickup's passenger door and climbs into the cab with me. She begins talking about two guys in the English department before she even pulls the door closed. As I walk into the kitchen with Jenny following and chattering, I see Sara smile, roll her eyes and shrug. Both of us were hoping for Heather. At least the day isn't a total waste. I'm two hundred to the good.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License

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Doc's Place Chat
© 2008, Michel Grover.
Chapter 22 | Part 6
Summer 2012

Lucia :

Mic has posted in the left frame paragraphs from Doc's Place, one of his copyrighted stories. I'm moderating chat here in the right frame. I post every day, but I don't post everything. I have formed a secondary group from which I may also post comments.

Doug :

Alright, Benny, a good third of the last story part was Jill puttering around at the junkyard and negotiating with Walter for 3 classic junk cars. Not only is this entire story part more about Jill puttering around with a wrecked Camaro, but also shooting pool and pushing down a youngster.

Now, why are we reading diversionary stuff that does not advance the story? You said in the last chat session that you have an idea. What is it?

Benny :

I also said that we should exercise a little patience and see what develops. Demanding answers at the beginning of the next chat session doesn't demonstrate patience, Doug. In fact, quite the opposite, you're demanding answers now. Why would you do that?

Les :

I agree with Benny in this situation, Doug. Let's be patient, not only to see what develops but also to see what ideas each of us may contribute regarding the meaning of this diversion. Do any of you have any ideas on this topic you'd like to contribute now?

Lucia :

To get us started let's review ideas from last session. JoeRay said reading about Jill's diversion with the classic junk cars was fun. I called it an enjoyable romp. Amalie pointed out that Jill was at ease in a place most would consider alien, especially in such lousy weather. Later, she added that the entire experience was sensuous. Benny noted Jill's ability to make the most of a day that would have been life destroying for some. He also noted Jill's child-like joy after visiting the junkyard, which illustrates how she lives within each moment. Raj proposed that Jill pushed for termination so she could take a few days off to acquire some new project cars and work on them. He also suggested that the story is really about Jill.

Ian :

While I don't have anything to contribute about this topic now, I'm not in a hurry to make sense of how Jill's car-buying spree at the junkyard and her work on the Camaro contributes to the story. In fact, I'd go so far as to say I don't care if we ever figure it out. Sorry, Doug, but I don't see what you're concerned about or why.

The first-person singular narrative is interesting. She is keeping her mind and hands busy while this confusion with her employment works itself out. It reveals Jill's thoughts and behavior in new and unusual circumstances.

Les :

Follow that train of thought, Ian. What do you think this new situation reveals about Jill?

Ian :

The situation reveals more than Jill's thoughts and behavior. Remember Raj and the Bengaluru group's idea that Jill actually arranges events so that Dick Scope has little choice but to fire her, which means Jill is doing exactly what Peter ordered her to do. Jill, Peter, Dick and Carlos are exploring uncharted territory here, establishing behavior that will later become precedent. Remember also, whether Dick knows it or not, Jill still works at and receives a paycheck from Doc's Place.

Trying to appear nonchalant, Jill strolls into work, late as usual recently. Again, she is following Peter's orders, showing up late or not at all on some days. Given that she has only been working at Doc's Place for a month, she accomplishes quite a lot. Jill performs her duties as required and as requested. She goes on about her business, trying to keep the conversations with the executives and managers as ordinary as possible. She reminds others of scheduled obligations. In fact, she behaves professionally and cheerfully throughout, especially compared to her peers. What else can she do, really?

Okay, Dick orders Carlos to escort her off the premises—again. Notice how dramatically Carlos' behavior changes once he realizes that he and Jill report to the same boss—Peter. Before he makes his phone call, he's as surprised as the other executives and managers. After he calls, he's as relaxed about the situation as Jill is, or is trying to be.

Les :

Tell us about that phone call, Carlos, if you don't mind.

Carlos :

There isn't much to tell. I call Peter's office phone and get Stephanie, who tells me that Peter is playing golf and asks if she can help. I explain that Jill has reported to work today, Wednesday, after Dick had fired her the previous Monday. Stephanie says, "Why wouldn't she report to work? Jill still works there, right?" Thanking her, I hang up and wait for Dick's call, which comes less than a minute later.

As anyone in security or law enforcement knows, one can only act on the information one has; one of the most common mistakes that officers make is to read more into a situation than is there. Thinking about it later, I realize that Peter is probably playing golf to avoid Dick Scope's calls about this issue.

Les :

Stephanie, have you anything to add?

Steph :

As Carlos said, not much. Before Peter tees off, he calls me to ask whether Ferro has received any official notifications from Doc's Place this morning. When I tell him no, he thanks me and disconnects. Now, Dick told Peter of Jill's termination on Monday, but he had not yet finished the paperwork, including his personal report of the matter, and sent it to Ferro.

Les :

Ah, that's interesting. As of Wednesday morning in this story part, Peter has received unofficial notice of Jill's termination but nothing official yet. That is a fine distinction, but a distinction nonetheless. Peter appears to be using it in this situation, since it suits his agenda.

Lucia :

Ian, you made an interesting point earlier in this session. You said that the situation—in which Jill still has a position at Doc's Place but the CEO thinks he's fired her—reveals Jill's thoughts and behavior in new and unusual circumstances. You may have picked up the key to understanding why Mic included this so-called `diversion' in the story.

Before I make my point, I'd like to ask a rhetorical question: what is the subject of this story? I know, the title is Doc's Place, but the subject and title of any literary work are often related but rarely identical. Doc's Place in Reno, Nevada from autumn 1984 through, I assume, spring 1986 is actually the story's setting in place and time. A story's setting usually serves to reveal the story's main character—the protagonist—to the reader. A protagonist moves the story's action forward.

Now I'll begin to make my point, which should be obvious. Perhaps Doug and some others among us have assumed from the beginning that Doc's Place is the story's subject. Under Doug's assumption, whenever the story strays off the subject of Doc's Place and on to Jill Price, Doug complains, and rightly so if it does indeed stray. My question is, is Doug correct?

My point, of course, is that Doug is wrong to assume that Doc's Place is the story's subject. Our protagonist, Jill Price, is the subject of the story, is she not? Jill Price, our protagonist who moves the action forward, is not only the story's main character but also the story's subject. The moment we agree that Jill is the story's subject, then anything the story does to reveal her character and how she moves the story's action forward is a valid domain for the story.

Consider Jill's first so-called `diversion' in the story—the racquetball game with Carlos—and how much effort we, especially Benny, put into validating that diversion. Under this new assumption, it's not a diversion at all; in fact, it's the story's point to reveal Jill's character. Consider one of our group `diversions,' the discussion of the plants in Jill's sunroom. It is revealing of Jill's character that all she knew was she wanted plants? She could care less about the identity of those plants.

Why haven't we considered before now the possibility that the story's subject is Jill Price, not Doc's Place? Is it the title? Is it the setting? Whatever the reason, let us at least consider the possibility before we criticize Mic for wandering off topic in the future.

Doug :

Good point and well argued, Lucia. All our discussions about details from Jill's life are a valid domain for the story as well. I imagine several people who are reading this story and our discussion thereof but who are not submitting comments realize this. If so, they probably have been shaking their heads in amazement at how stupid we are.

Lucia :

I'm afraid you're right about that, Doug. I've received plenty of criticism from people all over the world who have made that point. I accept the blame because I'm the English Literature major who missed the whole point. People submitting comments generally agree that the subject of the story is Jill's development while at Doc's Place. They ask a common question: how are Jill's Doc's Place experiences changing her? These people are asking why we have not been discussing this issue. They are asking us to consider adding someone to the primary group with a background in literature.

We have 19 people in the primary group: 10 males and 9 females. I recommend we consider adding a female to even up the gender representation. Does anyone have suggestions for another primary group member?

Cie :

35 or younger, please. No offense, Jules but we need more youthful perspectives.

Jules :

None taken, Cie. Lucia, ask Raj to nominate one of the young women from his Bengaluru group, since they lost Avani.

Les :

I agree with Jules, Lucia. Ask Raj to nominate a young woman.

Raj :

We appreciate this magnanimous gesture. It happens we have a young female member of our group who serves with in Bengaluru the Indian Police Service. She received her MS in history and literature, and graduated from both the Atlanta Police Academy and the World Police Academy in Toronto. Kili is also an advanced instructor in several martial arts. She is 32yrs old and uses computers as well as a smart phone.

Kili :

Receiving an invitation to the primary group is an honor I take seriously. By way of introduction, I am a widow with one daughter, Vani, who is 12yrs old and quite precocious. We are Hindu. My husband, who was a doctor, died from injuries received while tending to wounded at the Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus, or CST, during the Mumbai terrorist attacks of November 2008. I mention this not to elicit sympathy but to pre-empt revelations by Cyril and others. Hi, Cyril.

Cyril :

Welcome, Kili. You honor us by accepting the invitation. Everyone, Kili's academic and operational achievements at the Atlanta and Toronto Police Academies are legend. The woman is brilliant, funny and tough. In fact, both Kili and her daughter are as tough as they come.

Kili :

I confess to being one of those emailing Lucia about the lack of literary criticism and of discussion regarding subtle signs of Jill's growth. However, my new friends, Lucia need not carry this burden alone.

Jill is a relaxed, confident woman who controls her emotions and keeps her feelings to herself. She reveals little to nothing about how experiences affect her. However, her Doc's Place experiences are profoundly affecting and even changing Jill. To paraphrase, the devil is in her details, and some of those details appear in current and recent story parts.

In dpc22:5, follow Jill, wearing a poker face, as brother-in-arms Carlos escorts her out with a farewell salute. Watch her strip away the uniform of vocation and put on the rough clothes and tools of avocation. Observe her stoic features as she breathes the cold air while studying the High Sierras. Are you impressed with her proud toughness? You should be, my new friends, because our hearts would ache with bitter self-pity.

When Jill wakes Walter from his nap, he asks how she is doing. Usually Jill ignores such questions or simply says fine. This morning, however, one reformed Wild West outlaw reveals to another that she just received her first termination. For Jill, confessing this is the equivalent of stamping her feet, screaming and tossing things about in frustrated rage, but Walter, shaking off the cobwebs, misses it. All she gets is a coarse so what?

Take her next two sentences out of context and try attributing them to Jill; I dare you. "I care. I'm trying to do my job." Are you kidding me? Most of us would lose fifty bucks before we'd believe those words could fall from the lips of our indomitable, imperturbable Jill Price.

To be fair, once Walter recovers and tries to empathize in his own, sweet but blundering way, Jill recovers her composure and appears fine. . . . Until. Until she is alone, driving home. Jill sticks her head out the window and lets out a whoop! Is that an exclamation at the end of one of Jill Price's thoughts? I don't know about you, my friends, but I want to know what has come over this proud, stoic woman.

Wait a moment, you say. I thought Jill was miserable with self-pity over losing her job this morning, but no. You see, Walter reminded Jill of something: the bigger picture. All is going according to plan. Jill realizes she is happy with her vocation, her avocation and her prospects for pussy. None of the next day's frustrations brings Jill down, either. By the evening, her mood is good and her ledger is positive.

Marcus :

Dearest Kili, you are a breath of fresh air. Bless you for joining us, my good friend.

Cyril :

Cyril was right, Kili. Who thought literary criticism could make one cry and laugh?

Minnie :

Bless you indeed, Kili. I agree with your eloquent criticism that experiencing termination affects Jill, but can you say it changes her?

Kili :

Thanks, Minnie, and thank you, Marcus and Jules for your patriarchal praise. Minnie, all we can say is this experience affects Jill, and yes, even teaches her a few lessons. Now we watch for changes, however subtle.

Benny :

Kili, you say, "her Doc's Place experiences are profoundly affecting and even changing Jill." Yet you provide only an experience that affects her, not one that changes her. Why?

Kili :

Benny, our bright and beautiful Benny, we have oceans between us and yet I feel that you are near my heart. Do you know that my daughter has a crush on you? I'm sure you two would be friends if you were to meet. As to your question, we also have oceans of time to discuss such issues as Jill's changes. You wouldn't want me to reveal all I have to share in one session, would you? Stay close, my young friend, and we'll share thoughts as our relationship grows.

Alan :

Admit it, Benny. You like Kili.

Benny :

I admit it freely, and I have a surprise for you, Kili, my new friend. Alice and I arrive in Bengaluru in a fortnight to visit Raj and participate in discussions with the group there. Would it be possible for us to dine with you and Vani?

Kili :

Count on it, Benny. Vani will hardly be able to eat or sleep for until she meets you.

Amalie :

Kili, please accept my welcome to the group. You seem to be a bright and fascinating woman. Would you mind telling us a bit more about yourself? For example, what are your and Vani's personal beliefs about religion?

Kili :

Thank you, Amalie, I feel honored. As you may imagine after my years in police work, I have grown cynical regarding religious tradition. Vani and I discuss this topic frequently, as she is an inquisitive and intelligent young woman. We have decided to venerate our culture, history and ancestors by staying close to family and friends who do believe. Privately, the two of us are quite critical of organized religion and its accompanying hypocrisy and bigotry, especially regarding the role of women in society.

Vani focuses upon mathematics and science in her studies; although she has obvious gifts in the arts, languages and music. She plans to win national scholarships to study in London and then perhaps graduate and post-graduate studies in Vancouver, British Columbia or Toronto. During her studies, Vani brings to my attention a growing weight of evidence that persuades both of us to believe that life on earth developed through evolution by natural selection and not through the efforts of the polytheistic deities that populate the traditions, myths and legends of our culture. In fact, Vani now wishes to add her thoughts upon this subject as well.

Vani :

My mother and I owe a debt of gratitude to you, Amalie, during the past three years as you have shared your experiences and emotions about your growth and development regarding religion on one hand and science on the other. We feel that we have grown along with you. In fact, we often ask ourselves what Amalie might say about this or that detail.

Most recently, we imagined you participating, via decoupled cognition I suppose, in our discussion of the environment of evolutionary adaptation. Mother and I spent hours discussing the writings of many authors from John Bowlby and Mary Ainsworth on attachment theory forward to present day who have explained this concept or used it within their work on evolutionary psychology. Both Mother and I imagined you, Amalie, alternatively arguing both sides—the side of evolution and the side of religion—to make the point that we cannot forget that both sides have substantial material to contribute.

Amalie :

Thank you, both of you, for your factual answers, though I certainly was not looking for compliments. Could you add how this transition from belief in the mystical to belief in scientific research makes you feel, both of you?

Kili :

Speaking of attachment theory, I believe this transition is more difficult for me than it is for my daughter because my attachments to my family, my husband's family and my believing friends are stronger due to time and experience. As you described earlier, Amalie, the yearning for the comfort, love and association of family and friends is powerful.

Vani :

Mother is right and I agree that the transition is easier for me for the reasons she stated. I frequently grow impatient and intolerant of the religious conservatism of my mother's and my father's families and friends, preferring the common-sense practicality of family and friends closer to my generation. I love them but they seem so old-fashioned and slow to change sometimes.

Amalie :

When and if your daughter moves to Canada to attend school, Kili, will you accompany her or remain in India?

Kili :

There is no question, Amalie. I will accompany her. If she remains in North America, then we will emigrate together. Bonds with family and friends of previous and current generations are strong but not stronger than my bond with my daughter.

Vani :

In anticipation of your question of how I feel about Mother accompanying me, I have no doubts either, Amalie. I insist that Mother accompany me and emigrate if I so decide. Besides, several members of my father's and my mother's families, as well as friends' families, have already migrated to western Canada.

Carlos :

Do you intend to marry again, Kili? Vani, do you intend so as well? If so, will you try to marry within your own culture?

Vani :

We have a compact that I will help our families seek a husband for my mother and Mother will assist our families in arranging my marriage as well.

Doug :

There you go, Lucia. Lupita isn't the only one. You should listen to these two intelligent women. Let Maria and your family arrange your marriage for you.

Vani :

Lucia need not dignify your incredible proposal with a response, Doug. This is primarily a personal decision.

Kili :

To answer your question, Carlos, I have no idea because I haven't met a man since my husband died for whom I cared much at all.

Les :

It appears that we have added not one, but two charming young women to the primary group, Lucia. I, for one, wholly approve of both additions.

Kili :

Such praise and acceptance means a great deal, Les. Please accept the compliments of both my daughter and me for the remarkable transformation you have made in your personal life and approach thereto. You have been an inspiration to both Vani and me since we met you here on this site.

Les :

Your kindness touches me, Kili.