It Ain't Paranoia if... Pt. 02 Ch. 09

It's been a while, and for that I apologize; my absence was certainly not by choice. As previously disclosed, I've been caught up in a seemingly endless cycle of testing and treatment, so writing has been far from my mind and time too scarce. The treatments are behind me (I hope), but I'm still weak as a popcorn fart and have a lot to do, so don't expect the quick release of Chapter 10. Yes, it is outlined and sections have been written, but it is complicated and will take time.

Honestly, I could have released the previous version of this chapter a few weeks ago, but re-readings by my Beta reader and myself, after the long hiatus, caused me to rewrite sections that had been hurriedly written in December, hoping to publish before the joy of treatment began.

Regardless, this is the finished product. As always, some of you will be bored by my attention to the details of the lives of Rob, Kaitlyn, their family and friends, and others by their exploration of San Antonio. Skim as you will, but don't skim the last night of their adventures in the Alamo city.

The usual disclaimers: no sex under 18; I edit my own work; the story is set in Texas and filled with Texans, which sets some readers off before they begin; and, the politics are party-neutral, though members of both parties, as well as true-believers in disparate causes, will believe they are being disparaged. I accept and appreciate constructive comments, but don't bother to go psycho; that crap will quickly be removed.

Finally, a sincere THANK YOU to those who emailed me and/or expressed comforting thoughts in the comments sections. Your sentiments made each day a bit better.

From the end of Chapter 8 - Meanwhile, we had acquired another flight of multi-role combat aircraft (MCRA) at the Crescent Moon, giving us a full squadron. We also had a reconnaissance plane and a cold-war vintage airborne radar aircraft. Where all this weaponry was coming from I had no idea, and I had no intention of asking. All I knew is what I was told in our weekly meetings and what I saw when I visited the Moon, where buildings and hangers seemed to be springing up weekly.

The stakes are certainly high enough to warrant such as build up, but why support irregular forces rather than using the US Military? Yes, I know there is the Posse Comitatus Act, but that could be circumvented by the President declaring a state of emergency, and characterizing this as an 'invasion' due to weapons and troops being launched from another nation(s) and including foreign combatants.

To me, putting 'irregular troops' in the position of being the initial line of defense when we have perfectly capable military forces at hand, is just surreal.

Twenty-five days and counting to Armageddon.

****

Having finally properly dissected and processed what I learned in my first conversation with Kaitlyn's psychiatrist and counselor, I requested another. This time, I asked for guidance - how do I help Kaitlyn explore her surgent sexuality without her losing control and doing things I can't abide?

They turned that around, told me to spell out the things I can't abide, and then challenged my responses. More exactly, they challenged me to enunciate the rationale behind each "shall not," as they called them. It was disconcerting to be challenged about principles I had long held but had not deeply examined, but I know I'm not the only male with conflicting beliefs when it comes to female sexuality and actions.

For instance, the idea of Kaitlyn having sex with someone else is something I can't abide. But Kaitlyn being forced to have sex with her captors, while disconcerting, drew my sympathy instead of condemnation. Why? If the problem is her having sex, why don't those instances cross the red line?

She had sex with Robert while we were married and while they were married, but I've forgiven her for those transgressions. Since they violate my core principles, why have I?

If she did it again with someone else, would I forgive her again? Why not? Would it make it easier or harder if it was "just sex?" Easier or harder if it's between fond companions? Easier or harder if with another woman?

Suppose we both had sex with another or others, in the same place at the same time - would that make her having sex with someone else more palatable?

I'd already had sex with Ashley - what if we brought Ashley into our bed and we both had sex with her, or with Jacki or Addy, or both? Eva? Clay? Eva and Claude? Clay and Ashley?

At this point, I realized two things: I didn't want to consider who / what would be easier or harder to abide, because, given a choice, none were acceptable to me!

I also began to understand why Kaitlyn complained that the counseling sessions were so difficult.

Instead for pursuing hypothetical sex partners, I turned the topic back to my original question - how do I help her explore her sexuality without her losing control and violating my "shall nots"?

They gave that one back to me, told me to discuss it with Kaitlyn, and call again after we had time to ponder it properly; they were curious about our conclusions.

I knew I wasn't ready for that conversation yet; I was still examining the rationale behind each action on my 'cannot abide' list.

****

Unfortunately, or fortunately, business consumed me for the next few days, and construction consumed Kaitlyn.

The newest Hungarian orphan petroleum recovery and pipeline deal had continued to develop with Ashley in charge. My friends at COG want the contract badly and are willing to sweeten the pot. Ashley is confident this one is in the bag, so she asked me to work on the deal with the Romanians, which had gone stagnant.

I gladly re-assumed control of the Romanian initiative, pleased to have something new to chew on. After a few long phone calls and several Zoom sessions, their leaders seemed freshly committed to working something out. To sweeten the pot, on the premise of getting to know me better they offered an all-expenses paid visit to Romania for my family the week after Christmas.

We would be housed at a resort near Bucharest and the Transylvanian Alps, aka southern Carpathian Mountains, and would be able to partake of the myriad local holiday festivities as well as ski and snowboard.

My four contacts really played it up, not knowing that being there with my family while the insurrection raged back home had an appeal far greater than local festivities, but that abandoning my friends on the field of combat remained unthinkable. However, if this mess resolved itself before it became a war, I'd head there in a heartbeat! I put them off, promising I would come but the dates would necessarily be decided with my family.

The period between Thanksgiving and Christmas is always child-centric, what with plays at school and pageants at church, buying and decorating a tree, shopping for Christmas presents, and all that we do to make the season special. We had plenty of help from the uncles, and from grandparents who wanted videos of everything their "four grandchildren" did, and insisted on Facetiming with them every few days.

The relationships among Dos, Grace, Tavo, and Esmy also kept them busy, and all 4 kids accepted the authority of the four parental-capacity adults, including Claude, without question.

It wasn't so much that Kaitlyn and I were being marginalized by grandparents, friends, and activities, as it was that we wanted more time alone with Dos and Grace, and suspected Eva felt the same way about Tavo and Esmy. The 'village' approach to family and child rearing was great most of the time, but this deep in the holiday season we just wanted some time with the nuclear family.

Kaitlyn and I talked about it, she talked to Eva, and we concocted three-day expeditions for each family.

Addy would fly Clay, Eva, and the kids to Dallas on Thursday morning. They would be staying at the Gaylord Resort, which offered everything from concerts to indoor swimming and a waterpark. When not involved in activities there, they would shop, attend a Christmas Concert, see the "incredibly beautiful Holiday at the Arboretum," experience the Dallas Zoo Lights, and for the first times in their lives, ice skate at the Galleria Ice Rink.

Addy and Jacki would return and fly my family to San Antonio that afternoon, where they would be picked up by the Air Force Lieutenants they charmed in Cherokee. We would be met at the airport and escorted to their Riverwalk hotel by Esteban's designees.

Although they would be discreet, members of the Ultimate Solutions team would be overseeing our safety during the three-day weekend, as they would be doing for our friends in Dallas.

****

Our evening boat cruise along the beautifully decorated San Antonio Riverwalk was breathtaking, but the Fiesta de las Luminarias - 2000 paper lanterns with candles symbolically 'lighting the way for the holy family' - made it transcendent. Inspired by the tales our driver told of historic structures and historical events along the San Antonio River, Esmy and Dos pressed me for more stories when they returned to the hotel.

Donning my storyteller persona, I began with the Missions, which were built by the Spaniards as a means of 'Christianizing' the natives, primarily members of the Coahuiltecan tribe. They practiced saying the names of the natives, (KOE-ha-HWEE-ta-kanz), and the names of the missions in the national park, so they would sound like real Texans when they visited Missions Nuestra Señora de la Purísma Concepción de Acuña, San José y San Miguel de Aguayo, San Juan Capistrano, and San Francisco de la Espada.

I told them that Mission San Antonio de Valero (the Alamo) was specifically excluded from the park boundaries because it is owned by the State of Texas. At their insistence, I told them the story of the Texican settlers under Spanish and then Mexican rule, and how Antonio de Padua María Severino López de Santa Anna y Pérez de Lebrón, better known as Santa Anna, deposed the elected president of Mexico in a military coup, abrogated the Constitution of 1824 and made himself dictator of Mexico.

This resulted in unrest among the Texicans and other citizens of the northern Mexican state of Coahuilla y Texas, who feared they would lose the right to continue the self-governance they had achieved as a state.

It was getting late, but they and their mom were wide-awake and refused to let me stop. I recounted Moses and Stephen F. Austin's colonization efforts, how Austin was jailed when he took a petition from the citizens of Texas to their government in Mexico City, and how that exacerbated hard feelings among the Texicans/Texians.

The first battle for San Antonio resulted in defeat of the Mexican force led by Santa Anna's brother-in-law, General Cos, as did skirmishes around what is now Corpus Christi. At Gonzales, Mexican forces attempted to take the cannon the community had acquired in order to drive off attacks by Comanche raiders. They were repelled by the Texican forces and returned to their camp in San Antonio.

Then came the inept Texan leadership at the Goliad mission and presidio, Santa Anna declaring anyone raising arms against his government to be pirates, who would be killed if captured, and the bloody Goliad massacre, which proved his intentions.

The Battle of the Alamo the family knew more about, but dad brought it to life there in the hotel room only a few blocks from the battle site. They were still excited but exhausted when I insisted it was time to sleep.

They were soon asleep, but mommy was still excited and raring to go. As always, I was unable to resist her, so I did my best to please her while holding a pillow over her face - not to smother her, but to deaden her cries so the children in the other room could sleep.

After a late breakfast, we took a riverboat from the hotel to Rivercenter Mall, where we shopped for presents until mid-afternoon. From there we began our exploration of the heart of downtown, beginning with the site of "Hemisphere", the 1968 'World's Fair' hosted by San Antonio.

We began our walking tour at "St. Joskes," which actually St. Joseph's, the beautiful Catholic Church surrounded on three sides by the historic Joskes Department Store. We learned that Joskes closed back in 2008, and, in spite of numerous plans, had not been repurposed. As my grandfather and father had done, I told them the story of Joskes, the 'largest department store in the largest state.' It was the first such store completely air-conditioned, and the first to have escalators - way back in the 1930s!

As we turned north on S. Alamo street, I pulled them to the side and asked them to remember that the Alamo is not just some tourist attraction. "The Alamo is hallowed ground, stained with the blood of valiant Texicans, supporters who had come from all across the United States, and Mexican soldiers who fought bravely in the face of withering fire from rifles and cannons set atop the walls of the old fortress mission. Walk lightly, speak softly, act respectfully; this place is consecrated with the blood of heroes."

The reverential looks on their faces told me they understood.

We began at the Cenotaph on Alamo Plaza, which memorializes those who died within the walls. Their remains are buried elsewhere around the city, in single and mass graves, but the monument displays all the known names. We then approached the Alamo chapel, the façade of which has become one of the most recognized buildings in the world.

The next two hours were mesmerizing to the young Texans and their mother, none of whom had been here before. The hushed, respectful voices echoing within the chapel, its displays and paintings, and the list of those known to have died during the thirteen-day siege and final battle, cast a spell.

They read the names of the 'Heroes of the Alamo' with awe, especially those of James Bowie, William B. Travis, David Crockett, and John MacGregor, a Scot who served as a sergeant of the artillery company. Outside the chapel, they laughed quietly with dad at the tale of their fellow clansman engaging in musical duels with Crockett, who played the fiddle to MacGregor's bagpipe.

"Both perished in the final battle on March 6, 1836. About 4000 Mexican soldiers attacked the nearly 200 Texican defenders. At least 189 defenders and from 400 - 600 Mexican soldiers died that day," I told them, and we were quiet and thoughtful as we roamed within the existing walls, in acknowledgement of the blood shed on the grounds around which we walked.

An hour in the museum was too little, but an informative movie about the battle was beginning soon in the Long Barracks. The movie used live actors and animation to teach us about the mission and the siege. Bowie and many Texicans who had taken refuge in these barracks died in the area where we sat. In the most commonly accepted versions of the story, Crockett died in the courtyard, and Travis died on the wall, repelling soldiers climbing ladders.

After they had been shot repeatedly, even when obviously dead, the bodies of most of the Texicans were stacked and burned, their ashes scattered by the winds.

The battle of the Alamo is a chilling tale of valor, of heroism against impossible odds, of men willing to die rather than live under the rule of a dictator, and of an imperious dictator willing to sacrifice his men to validate his self-anointed title of "Napoléon of the West."

We left as we had entered, quietly and reverently, with infinitely better understanding of the tragic and heroic events at this place, and with a new appreciation for the lives and times of our ancestors.

****

We walked along the river back toward our hotel, stopping to dine in one of the innumerable restaurants along the narrow streets and the Riverwalk. It had been a cool day and the evening chill was setting in, so we ate inside rather than on the river edge. For the first time since leaving the mall, we shucked our jackets, which immediately drew attention to Kaitlyn in her boots, jeans, and sweater.

Unusually, she was oblivious; her world today and tonight was composed of her two children and the husband she adored more every day.

The kids bathed, went into their bedroom in the suite, and immediately fell into deep slumber. Their parents adjourned to the main room, went onto the balcony, and watched the colored lights reflecting like a rainbow of stars on the water.

I stood beside her, my left arm around her shoulders, holding her against my side.

We were silent for several minutes, sharing the colorful beauty of the river and the Riverwalk, until Kaitlyn spoke. "Rob, thank you for this. I needed it, and the kids needed it. We've been blowing and going, taking care of business, focused on the next tasks on our never-ending lists, for so long I don't remember the last time we concentrated on our family, without interruption or distraction from others, or events."

"I needed it as much as anyone, Kaitlyn. I've enjoyed every moment, even shopping, because that was for one another and our friends. My soul is calm in a way it hasn't been in a long time, and I owe that to you, our daughter, and our son."

I looked down into her eyes, raised her chin so she was looking directly at me, and said, "This is probably as good a time as any to say what I need to say, and ask you a question. Her immediate response was to look confused and concerned, and my words did little to calm her in the beginning.

"Kaitlyn, we've had a rocky ride at times. In fact, we're run off into the ditch more than once. Even then - even when I hated you or was in terrible pain because of you - I loved you, or maybe the idea of you that lived in my mind.

"I still love the feel, taste, smell, sound of you, the way you snuggle and cuddle, the look in your eyes just before we kiss, the passion in your body and soul, and the look on your face just before you climax."

She smiled nervously, and the concern turned to something akin to curiosity. "We have a rough path ahead," I continued. "Not of our own making, but still a treacherous path. We have no idea how it will end, and little control over the ending. A yet... In the midst of all that uncertainty, one thing has become certain to me.

"You have become the woman I wanted you to be, and I want you beside me, however this ends. For better or worse, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, 'til death do us part. Are willing to make that commitment to me? In front of our friends, family, and God? Not again, but from this day forward? If you are, will you accept this ring as a token of our pledge, from me to you, and from you to me?"

I produced the ring I was holding in my right hand. She looked down, gasped, and exhaled, "Oh! Rob!"

The blue-green 2.5-carat Montana sapphire was surrounded by 1-carat diamonds set above, below, and to each side, with small diamonds and chips in the arcs between. The sapphire was as close as I could find to the color of her eyes.

She turned to face me fully, closed my right hand around the ring and held her hand over it. She took my left hand, and, with unblinking eyes that shown with love, answered, "With or without a ring, with or without a ceremony, I'm yours, fully and completely, for time eternal, if you will have me.

"I acknowledge I won't be the perfect wife, but I swear I will be the best wife I can be! I love you beyond anything in this realm, and I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you."

"I assume there is a 'Yes' in there somewhere?" I asked with a playful smile.

She stood on her tiptoes, placed her arms around my neck, and pulled my head down for a kiss that lingered on and on, until she broke away an inch, and solemnly said, "Yes, I would be honored to marry you!"