Expat Chapter 9 (part 1) - 2,514 words

Chapter 9


August 5, 1990 - Expat House

Jeffery was sitting at his table reading the heavily censored copy of PC Magazine that was returned to him after it was confiscated at the guard house the first night here. He was still amazed at the patience of the censors in going through the magazine page by page and blacking out all pictures that had anything to do with women, alcohol, or religion. He had already fallen into the expat's practice of holding the blacked-out pages up to the light to see what is was that the censors found offensive. He could tolerate the blacked out images, but when they ripped entire pages out he got very annoyed, especially since the missing pages always seemed to be the end of an article he was reading.

The expats had gone to work that morning, but none of the Saudi's had shown up. The Iraqi invasion was the sole topic of conversation for the entire day, but no one had any real information to go on. The facility had no English newspapers, no radios, and no televisions. The Arabic newspapers had not even been delivered, had there been anyone there who could read them. It would not have mattered anyway since the two Saudi newspapers had not yet acknowledged the invasion of Kuwait. There was no mention at all in the Saudi Gazette or the Arab News.

The baseless speculation had gotten more and more fantastic, until the frantic secretarial staff had Iraq taking over the entire Middle East, all of Iran, and moving on toward the Soviet Union. There was no work to be done in the office, since all of the files were still locked in the underground vault, so the only thing to do was talk about the invasion.

He looked up from his magazine when he heard a light knocking on his door. He got up and opened the door to see who was there. He was surprised to see Carletta standing there in bare feet and a white cotton nightgown.

"Oh, hi Carletta. Do you need something?" he asked.

Her eyes met his for a fraction of a second and then she looked down at her feet. "It's your night tonight." she replied meekly.

A puzzled look crossed Jeff's face. "I don't know what you mean. It's my night for what?"

Carletta glanced apprehensively up and down the hall.

Jeff noticed her nervousness and said "I'm being rude keeping you standing in the hall. Do you want to come in?"

She nodded slightly and stepped into the room, pushing the door closed behind her. She still had not raised her eyes and was standing there motionless. Jeff was becoming uncomfortable by sensing her discomfort with being there.

"Please, have a seat. Can I get you something to drink? A coke or something?"

She glanced up at him and her creased brow straightened, making her appear somewhat more calm.

"No, please you should not trouble yourself."

"It's no trouble. There are three Cokes in the refrigerator. I don't know where they came from or how long they've been there, but I'll get you one."

Jeffery walked over to the little mini fridge in the corner and took out two cans of Coke. He looked over at Carletta and said "Do you want a glass with ice?"

She looked almost shocked that he was asking her this. She said, "I don't want to bother you."

Jeffery opened the cupboard over the sink and said "Hey, it's no bother. I don't get any company down here."

He took out two glasses and set them on the table. He got the blue plastic ice tray out of the freezer and twisted it to break the ice free. He dropped three cubes in each glass and then laid the tray in the sink behind him.

Carletta had still not moved. She was watching his every move intently. Jeff sat at the table. He held out his hand to the chair across from him and said "Why don't you sit down a while?"

"If you want me to."

Jeffery didn't understand why he had to force minor hospitality on her. "Yes, I'd like that. Have a seat."

She moved silently over to the chair and sat down. She opened the can of coke and filled her glass. She raised it to her lips and took a small sip. Since leaving her standing position, her eyes had still not met Jeffery's.

She finally looked up at him briefly and said "Thank you, Mr. Jeffery. You go to too much trouble.”

Jeffery smiled. "I still can't get used to being called Mr. Jeffery. It's kind of like the first time anyone called me Mr. Briggs. I looked around for my father before I realized they were talking to me. I wish you'd just call me Jeffery or Jeff."

Carletta finally smiled. It was quick, gone in a flash, but it was a smile. Jeffery noticed how it made her high cheekbones look even more prominent. Her coal black eyes sparkled with a reflection of the overhead light. He was struck with how beautiful her face was, framed by her long black silky hair.

Jeffery said "That's better. You're very pretty when you smile."

Carletta blushed and took another drink of her coke. Jeff sat back in his chair and took a long drink from his glass. He sat it back down on the table and leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table.

"Now, what is this about this being my night?"

She held her glass in both hands and rotated it back and forth between them.

"The other men did not explain to you?"

"The other men haven't told me jack sh... uh, anything that goes on here. I know that you cook and clean. I know that your name is Carletta. I know that you are a very good cook, because I like your food very much. But other than that, I don't know anything else about you."

Carletta slumped her shoulders and sighed. She said softly "My job is clean, cook, and keep the men company. You know, give them good time."

Jeffery's face showed apprehension. "Just what exactly do you mean by a good time?"

Her reply appeared to cause her great distress. "You know, I go to their room, they use me for sex."

When she looked up and saw the look of shock on his face, a tear trickled out of her eye and ran down her cheek. He was too astonished to speak.

She quickly said "I'm sorry I cry. Please don't be angry with me. I'll stop."

His amazement turned to compassion. He said softly "I'm not angry with you. I've heard stories about this but I didn't believe them. Did you agree to do this when you came here? They can't actually make you do that, can they? My God, this is nineteen-ninety, not the middle ages."

"I did not agree to anything. My boss man when I got here told me what I had to do. I clean, I cook, I keep expats happy. Saturday for Mr. Clive, Monday night for Mr. Heinrich, Wednesday for Mr. Philippe. Mr. Malcolm don't want a girl, he has Ricardo from the office. Sometimes boss comes to my room when his wife has period or is too pregnant. He gives me pills so I don't have babies, because then I can't work. Now that you are here, you are Sunday night. I do whatever you want tonight. That's my job."

Jeffery coughed nervously. "I don't know what to say. No one told me anything about this. I don't understand how they can make you do this as part of your job."

Her tears had stopped and her face now looked absolutely devoid of emotion. She looked up at him and said matter of factly "Mr. Jeffery, you just get here from America. You don't yet understand that in Saudi Arabia things are much different. Expats get treated almost as good as Saudis. We Filipinos here they treat like animals. We have to do what they say or it gets very, very bad for us."

Jeff had recovered some of his composure. He said "I know things are tough in the Philippines, but are they so bad that you have to put up with this? Can't you work somewhere where they treat you better?"

She wiped the tears from her face with her sleeve and sat upright in the chair. She spoke softly but with more assurance. "I have to stay here a long, long time. I'm not like the other Filipinos that come here on contract and can go home when it's over. I can not leave until my father's debt is repaid. It is a very big debt and will take many years to pay for."

"I just find it hard to believe that in this day and age things like this still take place. I mean, this sounds like slavery. I thought the Saudis outlawed slavery thirty years ago. And, how can they hold you responsible for your father's debt? What kind of debt is it?"

Carletta sat back in her chair. She appeared very weary. She spoke now with just a hint of anger in her voice. "We came here from Manila in nineteen-eighty-two. My father was a driver for Ahmed Khozairi Ibn Abdul Aziz. He is very important man. He is second cousin to King Fahad. My mother became nanny for his wives. My brother and I came too. We were all very happy because we had a place to live and food every day. In nineteen-eighty-four, my father was driving the car to the market to get some things and he had a very bad accident. He died that day. That is the day that we were sent from heaven to hell. Mr. Ahmed, he get very angry. His car was only two months old and now was ruined. He did not care that my father was dead. We did not get to see my father or have a funeral for him. He was taken out to the desert and buried the same day he died. We all cried for many days. My mother thought that we would be sent back to the Philippines so she packed our belongings."

She paused for a moment and took a drink of coke. She continued "Mr. Ahmed, he came to our room and when he saw that our things were packed he got very mad. He hit my mother and yelled at her. He said that because of my father his new Mercedes was gone and we were not going anywhere until we paid for it. My mother so upset. She sobbed and pleaded with him. She said that we did not have enough money to pay for it but he could have it all if we could just go home. He was not happy with that. He was still very angry. He told us not to leave the room until he got back. He left and locked the door behind him. We could not have left anyway, we were locked in."

"We stayed in that room for two days and nights until he came back. When he came in the room he had two policeman with him. We were so frightened. Mr Ahmed had three papers in his hand. He handed one to my mother, one to my brother, and one to me. They were in Arabic and we didn't know what they said. He pointed to a space at the bottom of the page and told each of us to sign it. My mother asked what it was and he screamed at her to just shut up and sign it. We all signed it and he grabbed them back from us and handed them to one of the policeman. Mr. Ahmed was calmer now. He told my mother that she was to stay and continue to be a nanny for his children. He said that my twelve year old brother Joseph was being sent to Abu Dhabi to ride camels in races. He then said that I was to be sent here to be a housemaid. We were told to pack some clothes and be out in front of the house in five minutes. We were so shocked. My mother put our clothes in two plastic sacks and kissed us goodbye. When we left the room we heard her sobbing wildly."

Carletta paused for another small sip of Coke, "When we got to the front of the house, Joseph and I were both crying. We hugged each other until Mr. Ahmed grabbed Joseph and pushed him toward one of the two police cars sitting in the driveway. He looked at me and pointed at the second car. I got in the car and have never seen my mother or brother since then. The policeman was a dirty smelly man with very brown teeth. He raped me three times on the long drive to this place. I was fourteen years old. I have been here ever since."

Jeffery looked horrified at the tale he had just heard. He said "But you were only fourteen and your brother was twelve. Surely the paper you signed can't hold you to anything. Do you have any idea what it said?"

Carletta looked drained. "When I got here, the policeman gave the paper to my boss. He told me it said that if I don't do whatever he says, my mother, brother and I all go to prison. He also said that I had to work for him until I earned enough to pay for one third of the cost of the car my father wrecked. My share was forty-thousand Riyals. I work here for six years now. I have not even paid back half of it yet."

Jeffery was doing calculations in his head. "But how can that be? What do they pay you?"

Carletta replied grimly "My salary is five-hundred Riyals a month. They take two-hundred and fifty Riyals for my living expenses. When I need clothes or shampoo or other things, they deduct that from me too. What is left over pays off the debt."

Anger now showed in Jeffery's voice. "Jesus, that is slavery. You work seven days a week and they pay you... what is that in dollars?"

Jeffery grabbed his calculator from the table and rapidly punched in the numbers. "Lets see, thirty days, at least eight hours a day, divided by two-hundred-fifty Riyals, divided by three point seven-five Riyals to the dollar. My God, that's only fifty cents an hour. Then they take over half of that away for living expenses?" He was punching furiously on his calculator now. "That means that at best about two-hundred Riyals a month goes against the forty-thousand. That's two-hundred months divided by twelve is... Jesus, that's more than sixteen and a half years. There's got to be something you can do about this. They can't get away with it. This is obscene."

[Jimbo]

Gary, I read this piece yesterday (the day before?), but didn't have time to comment.

It's a fine piece, and I didn't spot any problems with it. I don't have any issues with the flow. One bit that did irk me slightly though was the insta-life-story from Carletta. It made me think of when you ask someone how their day is going, and they really tell you. And tell you. And tell you.

I'm not sure if there's anything wrong with that in this case. And, hell, it needs to come out. Doesn't it? But, I'm already very sympathetic towards the poor lass, even before her sob-story comes out...I don't know if anyone else would agree with me on that? Possibly little bits like Jeffery doing sums to spell out how poorly paid she is just aren't required?

Funny how my critiques tend to come out as questions to you, isn't it? Maybe I need to be more assertive?

A fine bit though, and I will read the rest later tonight.

Originally Posted by Jimbo

Gary, I read this piece yesterday (the day before?), but didn't have time to comment.

It's a fine piece, and I didn't spot any problems with it. I don't have any issues with the flow. One bit that did irk me slightly though was the insta-life-story from Carletta. It made me think of when you ask someone how their day is going, and they really tell you. And tell you. And tell you.
I could probably slim down her story. You're right that I already have a main story and a little bit of a sideways storyline probably goes a long way.

I'm not sure if there's anything wrong with that in this case. And, hell, it needs to come out. Doesn't it?
The basic story is important to explain why she is there and can't leave. I thought the details in her story might give the book more depth and insight into each character's lives but it might be too much detail. I don't want the reader to get bogged down in the side threads and tangent storylines.

But, I'm already very sympathetic towards the poor lass, even before her sob-story comes out...I don't know if anyone else would agree with me on that? Possibly little bits like Jeffery doing sums to spell out how poorly paid she is just aren't required?
I could get rid of that. It was intended to show his computer geekiness. Who else would have a calculator in his shirt pocket? But again, I don't want to bore the reader with useless trivia and calculations. I am a detail oriented person and tend to go deep into details in my writing. Sometimes the summarized version is all that is needed and the reader can fill in the rest on their own.

Funny how my critiques tend to come out as questions to you, isn't it? Maybe I need to be more assertive?
I really appreciate your critiques. I don't mind them coming out as questions.


A fine bit though, and I will read the rest later tonight.

Thanks again.

[Jimbo]

I suppose the depthof the Carletta backstory should be proportional to how big a character she is about to become. So if she's large enough to have it in there in full, then go for it.

Thinking about it, I think maybe my main beef is the ease with which she launched into it. A slight prod, and the whole mountain game down on Jeffery.

Sorry I didn't get onto the next bit last night. 'Stuff' occurred

[lucyj]

Hi there.

'The expats had gone to work that morning, but none of the Saudi's had shown up.' - 'Saudis'

Other than that, can't see any mistakes or problems with sentence construction.

I kind of agree with James about the Carletta thing:
'I could probably slim down her story. You're right that I already have a main story and a little bit of a sideways storyline probably goes a long way.'
and
'The basic story is important to explain why she is there and can't leave. I thought the details in her story might give the book more depth and insight into each character's lives but it might be too much detail. I don't want the reader to get bogged down in the side threads and tangent storylines.' - the side storyline doesn't bother me at all, it strikes me as not so much a distraction as lending colour and detail to the situation. I don't think it draws attention away from the main story, as it's not so much a separate story as a way of showing the human side to the situation in the country. Carletta is presumably going to mentioned quite often (?), as long as Jefffery remains living there, so it's good to know something about her rather than leave her one-dimensional. However, I did find the way she poured out her life-story a bit jarring. For one thing, it seems like too neat a chronological summary, especially for someone who's a bit upset and emotional. And for another, Carletta has been abused by pretty much every expat she has come into contact with - I think she might be slightly wary of opening up like this to Jeffery when she hasn't known him all that long. Also, perhaps a girl in her situation would be hanging on to as much self-respect as she could, and pride herself on not coming out with the sob-story straight-away?

I think if you could let Jeffery find out more about her history as he gets to know her/she learns to trust him etc, it's a very good sideline as the way their relationship developed could reveal different things about him than his dealings with work colleagues. But I think you want to beware of making it develop too fast.

That is, of course, if she was going to feature much more in the story. And if she's not, then I don't think the details of her past life are so important, if we're not going to see enough of her to see how her history has formed her character.

Hmm, I'm rambling. I may have repeated myself several times already, so I'll move along - I'm sure you get my general drift.

Thanks, Lucyj. I don't think I'm giving away too much of the story to tell you that Carletta is one of the three main characters throughout the book.

I think I will have to find a way for them to get to know each other a little more first before she pours out her life story. I just don't know how yet within the timeline I've already set.

Also, perhaps a girl in her situation would be hanging on to as much self-respect as she could, and pride herself on not coming out with the sob-story straight-away?

I went with the assumption that she would have almost no self respect left by now. I made her very subservient and resigned to what her life has become. That too and the reason for it might become a little more obvious in the next few chapters as well.

But why would she immediately pour out her heart to a new Expat? (I'm not necessarily asking - I'm just wondering to myself and maybe if I type it I'll find an answer). Its the right decision for her but why would she make it so quick?

I think right now I'm going to need to greatly abbreviate her story at this point in the book and simply state that they talked most of the night. The fact that he doesn't boink her at the first opportunity and their long talk might be enough that she reveals her story a little more at a time over the next few chapters as she comes to trust him more.

I appreciate your comments again, especially now, because the book is going to take a slight twist in direction and I might be treading on dangerous ground to keep it away from becoming cheezy.