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Chapter 49 - An Unexpected Offer

Tamara looked back at the two women who were waiting expectantly for her to speak. She laughed and shook her head.

“This isn’t gonna be the great reveal, you know,” she chuckled. “I always knew that Peter was special; I could feel it but didn’t know exactly what it was that I was feeling. Manman had given me a hint of it when she told me about how she sensed Dad’s personality when they met. Greta, Mom sensed the characteristics of one of our most important lwa in Dad, Ogorin. That’s another of those spirits who has two sides; in this case, he’s both the warrior and the diplomat. And originally, the Dahomeyan Ogorin was the spirit of blacksmithing—the mechanical technologist. All those characteristics describe Dad perfectly. And Greta, Ogorin is like Thor in many ways—the hammer is a big one of those ways—and he’s a bit like Odin too.

“I was drawn to Peter when I met him. He’s quiet—actually pretty intense. He’s analytical and insightful. His empathy allows him to identify with other people which makes him amenable to seeing their points of view. Of course that empathy got him into serious emotional trouble, as we all know. And then I got to see another side of him—how he interacted with his cousins, many of whom are younger—and with a posse of little vixens at the resort.”

Greta laughed heartily at that and Nadine looked mystified.

“Tell you later about that, Mom,” Tamara told her. “Anyway, I saw something new in him then—a teacher and father figure, someone who could give instruction and correction lovingly and sensitively. I already knew that the lwa had approved of him, Greta, I had done something like your seid ritual and was told by my guardian lwa that Peter had abilities that I could help him to develop. And then he was ‘visited’ by another lwa and was left with a message.”

Now it was Greta who had a mystified look, while Nadine nodded.

Tamara grinned at Greta. “I guess I need to keep a score-card about who knows what,” she giggled. “So the message wasn’t for him; it was for me, but the way it came and involved his getting it too, I could tell that Erzulie considered Peter and me as one single entity, as if we were already married.”

Now both women gasped.

“Yes, in thinking about Erzulie’s visit, that impression is the only one which makes sense. But back to Peter. When I was talking to Manman and Dad back at the motel, I thought about how Manman had sensed that Peter was a spiritual focus; we call it a pwen, and that released a memory or ability that I must have had buried in my mind. That’s when I realized that I could sense, more directly than before, the influence of a spirit on someone’s personality. I know Ogorin’s very well since he’s visited my own self many times and has gifted me a sense of premonition. Dad has that from Ogorin too. But the influence I sense in Peter isn’t as familiar to me since Manman doesn’t call to him in our rituals very often. But I’m sure this lwa has become Peter’s guardian.”

“Mezanmi!” Nadine gasped. “You’re right! I can see that. You see, Greta, in my faith, our observant believers usually have an affinity to the lwa whose aspects best match their own personality; they view that lwa as their guardian spirit. In my case, it’s an extremely important spirit called Papa Legba. He’s the spirit who controls the ‘crosswalks,’ the gateway to the spirit realm, and it’s his power that allows me to commune with the other lwa and to enable my people to approach them. Tamara just alluded to another lwa, one whom I’ve rarely called to, it’s Damballah Wedo; he’s incredibly powerful—the force of creation is in his power—so I always hesitate to ask him to bless us with his presence. Of course I display his vevé in my temple because of his importance. But from what I sensed from Peter, you must be right, Tamara.”

Greta cleared her throat, politely seeking attention. “Damballah? I’m afraid that when I read about Vodou, I didn’t pay much attention to the individual spirit powers. And Papa Legba? That’s very interesting, since in the Norse mythos, it’s Odin who’s the god of the crossroads. Very similar function, actually.”

“Ah, yes,” Nadine said. “There are so many similarities. In the Norse mythos, the world, Midgard, is encircled by Jörmungandr, a serpent who encircles the world in the deep oceans, cast there by Odin to keep him from threatening the gods...”

“You know that?” Greta exclaimed, astonished. “And you recalled it?”

“Of course. Knowledge of the mythologies and religions of the world are vitally important in understanding people’s motivations, desires, and impulses. I do personal and spiritual counseling and find the knowledge very useful.”

“Hmm. When we finish discussing Peter, let’s explore that thought.”

“As you wish. I was exploring why Damballah may well be Peter’s guardian. Um, I brought up the Midgard Serpent. Yes. The snake is a powerful totem in many cultures and that’s also true in the Dahomeyan pantheon. I mentioned Mawu-Lisa before, well, Damballah-Wedo—also called Dan or Danbada-Wedo—is her-his-their son who’s said to have a serpent form. He assisted in the world’s creation and the coils of his body support it. For that reason, the Fon believe that Damballah is the giver of life and sustainer of the world. He’s also the patriarch of the lwa, he’s believed to be the oldest, and a warm, benevolent presence who embodies peace and gentleness.

“The Fon believe him to be a healer; that’s a function of the life-giver, and he’s said to be the embodiment of wisdom and the guardian of all of the facets of wisdom: customs, principles, morals, and all African traditions. So in the Vodou religion, Damballah-Wedo is the serpent spirit. He’s very popular; he’s the father figure. He’s also the embodiment of excellence, and is benevolent, innocent, and a loving father.

“In the limited time I’ve been with Peter, I see many of those characteristics in him. Tamara?”

“Jeez, Mom, you got everything I saw too. Um, you do know that one of Damballah’s wives is Erzulie Fréda? And that Erzulie Fréda is also a wife of Ogorin?”

“Certainly, dear. Lwa family relationships are somewhat complicated.”

Greta laughed. “That’s true of the Norse gods as well. So you believe that Peter’s been accepted by your spirits? Because that would create an interesting linkage between two spirit universes.”

“Um, I believe they are linked already,” Tamara said, smiling. “I mentioned Papa Legba before. He’s Manman’s guardian but likes to keep an eye on me too. I think that I must amuse him or something. He ‘visited’ me a short time ago and found your guardians. He knows all languages, so I’d bet that he’s getting all caught up with the Vikings, just like we are with our earthly affairs.”

Both women laughed.

“What does it mean now that Peter’s been ‘adopted’ by a lwa?” Greta asked, making finger quotes.

“Um, not much, I think,” Tamara said. “He might get some unbidden random thoughts. Dad had a lwa guardian for maybe twenty years before he learned about it. Right, Mom?”

Nadine nodded.

“What do we tell him?” Greta asked.

“I’ll guide him to that knowledge, just like Mom did with Dad,” Tamara told her and she nodded.

“That’s excellent. Now to change the subject totally, Nadine, you mentioned your education as an anthropologist.”

“Well, I had advisors in both sociology and anthropology and my research was on a social topic.”

“What was it, exactly?” Greta asked.

“I was in a doctoral program and my research project was on the transmission of cultural traditions in agrarian societies, from mother to daughter. It covered the moral, social, and spiritual traditions and looked at cultures in Africa, Central America, South America, and some Pacific islands. That research was the subject of my dissertation.”

“You have a doctorate then?” Greta asked.

“Actually, no. My mother’s disappearance interrupted my studies. I had to leave school and return home; most of my savings were spent in trying to locate her. I couldn’t return to complete the degree so they gave me the master’s.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. How close were you?”

“The dissertation wasn’t quite complete; I was finalizing it for its submission. So my dissertation defense never happened. I finished it remotely and submitted it to my professor but Universidad de San Juan wanted me to return and register for another term to do the defense but I couldn’t—it was in Puerto Rico and I was in Haiti; going back and forth back then was too expensive. I didn’t have the funds, and I had to earn a living too. I was already a ... well, think of it as an ‘ordained,’ manbo. My little congregation supported me. I didn’t really think about pursuing the university for it; getting the knowledge was more important to me than the diploma.”

“Still, they deprived you of something you earned. The work you did would be invaluable to anthropologists and sociologists—was it ever published?”

“No... it was in French and I submitted it in French and Spanish and I had used some of my meager funds to have it typed out and the required number of copies mailed to the university.”

“Um, Manman, I got a copy...” Tamara began and the two women looked at her, Nadine in shock.

“What? How?” she began.

“When you said what you wrote it on, back in Haiti when we visited there, I got curious. So in the spring of my first year at college, I got the Hopkins library, the research section, that is, to try to get a copy. It took three months to get Universidad de San Juan to even acknowledge the request. Sheesh! They were such pikers. I paid the copying fee and postage that the Universidad charged. They even wanted to charge a searching fee to find it but the Hopkins staff threatened them by telling them that this was a violation of inter-library cooperation and they’d be blackballed. Still, it took another three months to get the paper copy. You know, the signature page is complete—the committee people all signed off on it, I noticed.”

“So you have a copy of it? Mine was lost, somehow, during my moves,” Nadine said.

“Yep. Plus, during the past year, I translated it to English and made a pdf of the translation, and got it put it in the Sociology Library archives at Hopkins. It’s really quite good. A digital copy of it is on line on the Hopkins website too.”

“You did all that?” Nadine asked incredulously.

“Yes, Manman. When I read the paper, I thought it was valuable work and well done. So when I finished the translating, last spring, I took a copy to a professor in sociology that Barbara had a course with and asked him if the research was useful. He liked it, a whole lot. He wanted to know why it was never published—he said it would be very useful in several of his classes. He’s the one who got it put in the Sociology Library. I was gonna tell you but then all that battery research fuss started up and I got tied up in that and forgot.”

“Do you have the web address for it?” Greta asked.

“Oh sure,” Tamara said and pulled out her cell phone.

She went to her browser and flipped through some screens.

“Okay, I have the bookmark here, let me copy it. Greta, what’s your cell? I’ll text you the link.”

When that was done, Greta continued the conversation.

“It sounds like you were cheated out of that degree, Nadine,” she said. “Let me tell you something now and I hope that you won’t think that this is being forward or preferential. My last trip to Europe with Werner was basically a recruiting trip. President Gerston was asked to serve as the first president of the Columbia Institute of Economics when his term ends. He wants to assemble an international faculty in research areas that will study ways of improving economic conditions in third-world countries. I have two or three anthropology faculty positions to fill and I’m having a very difficult time in finding people with the right credentials. I’m looking for people whose knowledge lies outside the traditional academic anthropology circles which seem to be inbred in the classical viewpoints about cultures.

“Nadine, you’ve impressed me tremendously as far as being very social and a wonderful communicator. Your Haitian background, including your knowledge of their truly stressed economy, gives you even more strength...”

“Wait, Greta... Are you suggesting you might be interested in me as a possible faculty member? I have no qualifications for that,” Nadine objected.

Greta shook her head. “Actually, if I got this right, you have a terminal degree in anthropology; just the piece of paper stating the degree is missing. Second, you have a terminal degree as a clergy person; you’ve been in practice how many years? About twenty? Much of it dealing with and counseling impoverished people?”

Nadine nodded, speechless.

“And if I understand what Tamara said about your dissertation, the fact that it’s being used in university teaching is yet another qualification. I’ll read it and see, but I’m certain that it will be just fine. Tell me, would you be available to join the faculty at Westphalia if we were to make an offer?”

Tamara had never seen her mother struck speechless. She was now.

“Mom? This is real. I told you so many times how smart you are. Where do you think I got my own smarts from? Surely not Dad?” Tamara laughed and that broke the logjam.

“Tamara! Your dad has awesome smarts!” Nadine said, laughing. “It’s just that I think I’m just an ordinary woman...”

“Mom, you impress everyone you meet, you know. I’ve heard about what they think about you at the VA. And your patients love you too. True, that’s not entirely applicable to a university job, but 75 percent of doing a good faculty job is effective communication.”

“She’s right. That’s so true, Nadine. Well, I guess you need time...” Greta started.

Nadine interrupted, “I certainly would need to talk to Wilson, but, well, truthfully, my work as a manbo somehow has become less fulfilling in the past few years. The neighborhood is changing; it’s becoming more gentrified. My congregation members have been moving away and more transient people have been showing up at worship and they’re not truly committed, so the worship is unsatisfying for most. One of my drummers passed away last year too. Wilson and I have been discussing what to do; his job has lost most of its challenge and he’s gotten antsy about the overcrowding in Miami. That’s what drove him to move to Haiti after he left the Marines. He told me that he could get a job just about anywhere. So, yes, perhaps I would be interested.”

“Excellent,” Greta said. “I’ll read your work and talk to some people. Now we’ve been talking in here too long; let’s go join the rest of the family.”

On the way out, Nadine whispered to Tamara, “What were the ‘vixens’?” and Tamara told her, giggling.

“Oh. That’s funny.”

While the three had been talking in the study, the Richardsons had come in and Wilson was talking to them. Nadine went to them and Wilson introduced her and then resumed his discussion topic with Mason. Wilson had mentioned to Mason and Angela that the family was from Haiti, so Mason had been quizzing him about the country’s political opposition, whose efforts to oust the government had been thwarted.

Tamara watched her dad introducing her mom and then looked for Peter and Barbara; she found them in a deep discussion.

“Hey, Tamara,” Peter said when she came up to them. “That was a pretty intense discussion with Grams and your mom.”

“Yeah, even I could feel it when they greeted each other,” Barbara said. “What was that about?”

Tamara smiled at them. “Our families have a strong link, they learned. Through the spirit world. You know that Greta is an... um, I guess you could call her an ‘adept,’ okay? She can commune with the spirits. I hope that I’m not breaking her confidence by telling you that.”

Peter sighed and said, “No, she’s open about that but, you know, what we think about magic...”

Barbara interrupted. “Yeah, my folks think her clinging to her Norse heritage is a bit odd, but she’s highly regarded academically. The U.S. president even interviewed her for the anthropology job in the new institute he’ll be running when he leaves office in a year or so.”

“So you guys were talking about spirits, like the lwa and her Norse spirits—the álfar and dísir?” Peter asked.

“Not as much as the similarities of our ancestral cultures,” Tamara chuckled. “Get two anthropologists together and they talk shop. I hope your folks don’t think my mom is odd ‘cause she’s a priestess of an ancient African religion.”

“Oh, no,” Barbara said. “It’s just that Gram’s in a modern science but still practices a really ancient ritual. When Aunt Shelly, her daughter, was a kid, Grams taught her about being a völva, but Shelly didn’t stick with it. Grams was disappointed, but her big sister—she passed away two years ago now—lived in Denmark and had a large family, and the women in that family are continuing their Nordic line.”

“Oh, that’s good—while Greta was talking, I did wonder whether Shelly was also a seeress,” Tamara said.

Peter laughed. “Nope. But she has this awesome intuition and her kids are convinced that she’s a mind-reader. Like with Mike. When he felt bad that he couldn’t get dates, Aunt Shelly knew about it almost immediately. No way could Mike keep it secret.”

“Hmm. No wonder she was so grateful to me,” Tamara mused. “So—what were you guys talking about so intently?”

“How to tell Emma that maybe your folks might be uncomfortable with any nudity when we go there,” Barbara said.

“Oh yeah, I did think of that. Of course they know that I’ve gone to the resort with you guys and they know about Emma’s Home Resort. Remember, when we first went there, Emma hadn’t even mentioned the nudity, so with newcomers like my folks, she probably won’t have a nude party. Besides, it’s kinda cold now.”

“Yep, but remember that her pool can have a dome over it?” Peter reminded her.

“You’re right. I’ll text her.”

Emma replied that the gathering would be textile and she did notify the others who’d be coming.

After dinner at the Winsbergs, Barbara left for the airport to pick up Terence while Peter and Tamara brought her parents back to their hotel.

“Peter, your folks and grandparents are impressive,” Wilson said. “Werner stayed in his dad’s development business, he told me, and Greta is a university prof.”

“Yeah, Gramps kept up the commercial real estate development business that his father began but his kids weren’t interested in that career. He’s in the process of going public with it and selling to some investors. He’s set up a board of directors and is working out how to hand over control to a management team. He’ll be keeping a bunch of stock in it though.”

“I’m not really sure what Mason does, though,” Wilson said.

Peter laughed. “Neither does the rest of the family. He’s the principal in a political consulting firm that flies way under the radar in the D.C. area. If you want to get into an elected office in this region, Mason is the one to see. He backed the last two Maryland governors, for example. And Grandma is in a fundraising organization for charitable donations.”

“Say, about tomorrow. At Emma’s,” Wilson continued, “what’s, ah, the dress code?”

Tamara turned around in her seat to smile at them.

“Emma says it’s textile all the way. Including the pool, if you want to swim—it’s got a heated dome over it, actually.”

“Well, that’s kind of her,” Nadine said. “I wouldn’t want to impose my own preferences on her; if the others who’ll be there wanted to be without clothes, I could deal with it, but I’m happy that she’s being sensitive to us newcomers.”

“Yeah, I told you what happened with her sister-in-law Abi,” Tamara laughed. “She kinda surprised us. Um, you and Dad talk about what Greta said?”

“We did a little, honey,” Wilson told her. “A lot to think about.”

“Here’s something else,” Tamara said. “Not to push you into anything, but I plan to stay in this area after I graduate. I have a premonition that I’ll be here for a pretty long time. And there is a Haitian community in the D.C. area; I checked. Consider that too. And also what you could do with Greta with both of your spirit connections.”

~~~~

On Saturday, mid-morning, Tamara, with Peter and her parents, arrived at Emma’s. Barbara and Terence had arrived earlier. Emma and Andrew, plus Andrew’s parents and sisters and their men, were all there, so the Alexandres went through another round of introductions.

Emma came to the door when the group arrived and greeted them as Stuart passed by and he stopped to greet the newcomers. When Wilson took Stuart’s hand for a shake, the men stood there for a long few seconds, shaking hands and sizing each other up. They obviously approved of each other, because when they released each other’s hand, they did a brief man-hug.

“Blimey, Wilson, you have an imposing presence,” Stuart told him. “We’re about the same size, yet you seem to tower over me in some way.”

Emma was watching and grinned. “Dad, he is simply overflowing with self-confidence, don’t you see. Nadine does too, but in a softer way. Nadine, you just radiate comforting thoughts—that’s your priestess persona, I gather. You use it in social situations as a way to relax the people you meet, isn’t that correct?”

Nadine laughed. “Yes, I suppose I do; never really thought about it. That’s quite perceptive, actually, Emma... can I call you that? Tamara talks so much about you, I feel like I’ve known you for years.”

“Goodness, yes,” she said, clapping her hands. “That’s brill. I’ve been gagging to meet you folks for ever now; Tamara’s just amazing, isn’t she.”

“We certainly think so,” Wilson said.

“So enough of us embarrassing her then; let’s go meet the other lot,” Emma replied as she led the way into the house.

They had a lively time; it was a much more animated group than at the Winsbergs. Sam and Abi had everyone in stitches with their constant stream of jokes, and Wilson and Nadine found that jokes told with British accents made them somehow funnier. Then Wilson, with a gleam in his eye, told a few jokes too, but he used French, and for the dialogs in the jokes, he used a different regional accent for each speaker.

All of Andrew’s family spoke French fluently; so did Emma. Barbara, Peter, and Terence knew a little, but Ryan and Jay were lost. Still, Wilson’s linguistic trick was quite funny. And when Sam challenged Jay to do the same thing in English—but to skip doing the Noo Yawk accent—that got some laughs too.

Then Wilson told Jay, “I’ll show you how to do a Noo Yawk accent,” and proceeded to nail it. And then he amazed the others in the group when he did a reasonable imitation of Jay’s and Ryan’s voice and speech, but when he started on Andrew’s voice, he switched from Andrew’s clipped west London style to a broad south London accent, wowing everyone.

After everyone finished exclaiming how good he was, Wilson explained, “I’ve got a good ear, that’s all. My Uncle Dan, he taught me to be a Marine, he could imitate people like that too and I copied him. He had the various Brit accents down pat, and all the French ones too. It’s just a parlor trick. Not useful unless you want to be a dialect coach for actors, I guess.”

Soon the group split into younger and older again, with the younger ones electing to hit the pool so they went to get their suits.

That’s when Nadine told Emma, “Wilson and I are fine with your home’s dress code. If they want to skinny-dip, please don’t stop them on our behalf.”

“Really then; it’s okay? They’ll be chuffed to hear. Hey, you lot,” she called into the house, “Nadine says going starkers is hunky-dory!”

“Brilliant!” Abi’s voice floated out the door.

A minute later, Abi and Sam came thundering out the door and without a pause, cannonballed into the pool.

Wilson turned to Andrew. “Were they naked? I saw a blur go by and I think I heard a sonic boom.”

Andrew chuckled, “I think so. Oh, here’s the rest. They are.”

The other younger group members strolled sedately out of the house and slipped into the pool from its side or walked down its steps.

Andrew continued, “Just so you’re aware. The word ‘naked’ isn’t used when referring to a nudist. We prefer the word ‘nude,’ which means simply ‘unclothed.’ ‘Naked’ means ‘vulnerable,’ ‘exposed,’ or similar things.”

“Ah. Tamara did mention that to us, I recall,” Wilson said. “Oh, Emma, I wanted to congratulate you on that Draper Prize and thank you for giving Tamara the opportunity to do the research to get that award.”

“That was all Tamara,” Emma told him. “Her ability to make intuitive jumps is astounding. I just was included because some of my maths suggested to Tamara how to pack electrons at a high density into a molecular matrix. So she ignored a few physics principles and showed that achieving impossibly high electron densities was possible. How it works is still puzzling all my colleagues and most other physicists everywhere.”

Then Stuart and Gerry came out of the house carrying trays with drinks and snacks and set them down on the table.

“Dig in,” Stuart told everyone. “Wilson, I must say, if they needed another model for a Marine recruiting poster, I know who they should contact. You absolutely have the look of a warrior. I see how you keep aware of everything around you and ready to move at an instant’s notice.”

Nadine chuckled ruefully. “I’ve seen him move. Once, when Tamara was threatened, he moved about ten feet in an eyeblink.”

“Uncle Dan taught me well,” Wilson said. “Good posture and balance is essential and how to move is part of that.”

“Yes, well, that brings up your decorations,” Stuart said. “A blindin’ achievement, the Medal of Honor.”

“Yes, but I would give that up in an instant if I could have protected all of the Marines in the two units I served in. Especially that final battle I was in. We lost eight good men then.”

“I know the feeling well; I was a leftenant and commanded a close-combat team in Kandahar Province in Afghanistan. We were attached to a U.S. Marine battalion, as I recall, the second battalion, in the Eighth Regiment. I had fifteen commandos and a sergeant in my command. By the end of my tour there, nine months, with replacements for wounded and killed commandos, I had lost eleven. And those Marines were from among the best-trained troops in the world. True, we were deployed in the most difficult operations, but even so, the losses weighed heavily on my conscience. What could I have done differently so that they were not exposed?”

“That’s it exactly!” Wilson exclaimed. “After I was wounded, I fought those demons for a long time. What helped me the most was learning that the decisions I made were the absolute best ones I could have made at the time. It was a matter of accepting that those decisions were based on my training and that I had the best possible training—not just as a Marine, but from Uncle Dan too.”

“And he did give you the best training possible,” Stuart remarked. “Witness the Medal.”

“That was my dream job,” Wilson sighed. “For my whole childhood, I dreamed about being a Marine. And a random rifle shot shattered my shin and I lost my dream... But that misfortune brought me to a better life, I firmly believe. I found my soul-mate, Nadine, and have an awesome, incredible daughter too. And a job that was my second love, mechanics. At least the vehicles don’t shoot back. Usually, anyway.”

The others laughed.

“Can you tell us about that battle?” Stuart asked. “Some people have difficulty re-telling their experiences, don’t they.”

Nadine interrupted. “Wilson’s better now, so long ago, but this might work for him. I have a copy of the citation in my web storage so let me pull that up.”

She got the document on her phone and gave the phone to Stuart. He read it and passed it around to the others as Wilson said that they could ask questions about details if they wanted. One question was whether Wilson’s unit may have crossed paths with Stuart’s.

“Not likely,” Wilson replied. “We never got as far south as Kandahar. I did have one or two small Royal Marine detachments at battalion from time to time, but they were there only for special operations. You know, the secret-secret stuff.”

“True,” Stuart told them, “we had a few units go up to Kunar and the other north-west provinces. I wasn’t with them. Those were special-ops teams. Wilson, you mentioned mechanics and vehicles—that’s what you do now?”

“Yep. I work on anything mechanical, actually. Mobile or stationary. Engines, generators, refrigeration, transmissions of any kind, hydraulic systems. I rebuilt a car from a junker when I was in high school and went on from there.”

“I can see how that skill would have been useful in Haiti,” Stuart remarked. “And Tamara told us that you’re a priestess of Vodou, Nadine. She also lectured us about Vodou, the religion and that it’s not voodoo, the movies.”

Nadine chuckled. “That’s Tamara. True, it’s a religion that has quite ancient roots in western Africa. I serve my community as a simple clergy person and do counseling and some faith-healing.”

“My wife is also modest,” Wilson told him. “She has an advanced degree in anthropology too.”

“Oh, Wilson...” Nadine began, but Stuart interrupted.

“Blimey. One moment; this morning I got a ring from a colleague; wanted to know if I could come in on Monday for a quick meeting. I’m off next week, but she said it was important. The coincidence is bloody stunning... Nadine, by any chance, did you speak to Greta Winsberg yesterday?”

Nadine gasped and Wilson leaned back in his chair in surprise.

“Actually, I did,” Nadine answered. “And Greta is a colleague of yours? That means Westphalia, correct?”

“Correct. I’m on the Academic Council of the new Columbia Institute being set up at Westphalia and the chair of Political Science at the university. Greta is the chair in Anthropology. The other council members are in sociology, economics, applied mathematics, psychology, business, information systems, law, and international relations. Greta told me that she just read a dissertation on a topic which spans sociology and anthropology and that she was extremely impressed by the work. I shouldn’t tell you this, but what the hell. She told me that there’s a possibility that the author might be receptive to an offer for a position in her department and in the institute. Is that person you, by any chance, Nadine?”

“I don’t know what to say,” Nadine replied. “It is me, but this is all so sudden... such changes are happening...”

Emma, who had been listening quietly all this time, spoke up now.

“Nadine, your daughter always speaks so highly of you and how well you guided her through the use of the special abilities she has. Yes, I know about them and I know that she told you that I know of them. Great changes will be coming for Tamara too; she’s about to become famous in the entire world for the scientific and technical innovations she’s developed, isn’t she. You and Wilson have taught her well how to use her abilities; she always credits you two for her accomplishments. I know of Greta’s academic reputation and if she says that your dissertation is impressive, then I’m certain that you have the ability and qualifications to take a faculty position there. It all comes down to your desires. Are you willing to make a life change of that magnitude? Are you able to get out of your current comfort zone for this opportunity? Those are the questions you need to answer. That’s something to think about, innit?”

“We discussed this opportunity last night, Emma,” Wilson told her. “Nadine is concerned about being able to meet the expectations of people who’ve been faculty members for their entire careers. I told her that the change for her will be similar to when she had to learn an entirely new job, nursing, when we came to the U.S. Except that she’s already had the necessary educational background.”

“That’s it, exactly, Wilson,” Stuart said. “I don’t want, as they say, to put the cart before the horse, Nadine, but it sounds like Greta’s getting ready to make an offer to you. Otherwise she wouldn’t be asking for an unusual Academic Council meeting during holiday. And the position is not only at Westphalia, it’s also part of creating a new institute, so you’ll have a chance to shape your work in the way you want, won’t you.”

“All right, you’ve all ganged up on me and persuaded me,” Nadine sighed. “If I get an offer, I guess I’ll accept. This will be another huge change in our lives, Wilson.”

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