A week passed quietly; Amelia scheduled her doctor’s appointment for the coming Friday afternoon. One evening midweek, as the three were discussing how their days went, Amelia mentioned that the school had a new head teacher, Mr Hanford.
“Miss Pittsdon left the school to move away ‘cuz her husband was transferred to Scotland,” Amelia said. “The new head isn’t very friendly.”
“In what way?” Kevin asked.
“He’s making new rules and won’t discuss them with students to give reasons. He made rules about where we can hang out after lunch that don’t make sense. He told the teachers he wants the students to stand when they speak in class. Oh, yeah, someone in our school was writing a blog about current political topics and Mr Hanford, I think he figured out who it was, ordered them to stop blogging, he said it was being rude to the authorities.”
“Hmm, he sounds like a real martinet, honey,” Denise said. “I guess you should try not to attract his attention.”
“It’ll be hard ‘cuz he’s sitting in on some of our drama meetings. He’s making suggestions and I think the teacher’s getting annoyed.”
“Oh, that’s not good. Say, do you know what kind of stuff that kid is blogging about?” Kevin asked. “I wonder how radical a high schooler needs to be to be censored.”
Amelia grabbed her phone. “Sarya knows. Her dad’s on the borough council and she said he was interested in the blog articles being posted. I’ll text her.”
Soon they had the web address of the blog. Apparently the student, who was blogging under the name “The Realist,” hadn’t stopped writing.
“Look at today’s,” Amelia said. “It’s a story about something called an honor killing. An uncle stabbed his niece. The blog says that the school where she went had that naked program you guys talk about and the blog speculates that she was forced to be in the nude program. Kevin, I know about those honor killings and that’s awful for a relative to kill their brother’s child!”
“Yes, it’s an extremely warped view of honor,” Denise agreed.
“Oh, my!” Amelia exclaimed.
“What?” the others responded.
“I clicked back to Monday’s,” Amelia replied. “Oh, it’s awful... it says ‘Lucy Domers, 15, of Wurthing Hills borough, was found in woodlands behind Pilburke School after vanishing from lessons on Friday morning. She was naked and had been repeatedly raped. She was a participant in the controversial Naked in School Program her school runs.’ It goes on with some more details. Hmmm, looks like there are other articles about that naked stuff but also ones about human rights violations and government excesses. Oh, here’s one where a family was put out of their public housing for complaining about an abusive neighbor. Let’s see, it says the neighbor had a conviction for smashing a window in the family’s flat, he had been given a restraining order to keep him away from the family, he also disturbed them by playing very loud music into the night, things like that, for over a year. The father kept complaining to the public authority about him and this says that they were evicted for being chronic complainers!”
“Sounds like this kid is doing a public service,” Denise mused. “So your head is wanting the blog stopped?”
“Yeah, that’s what I heard.”
Kevin had been paging through the blog archives.
“It looks like it frequently picks up items about the Naked in School Program, Denise. There are some posts which report private messages to him or her from kids in the Program who tell him about problems in their school. This kid is doing something like what we did with our website; looks like the government here isn’t censoring this like the U.S. did. It looks like the general theme is more human rights abuse than specifically the Program. I hope he or she can keep it going. Say... any word on naked goings-on in college?”
“It seems to be gone. I haven’t seen anyone naked since that first week. Oh, someone in class mentioned that she heard that some kids’ parents are planning to go to court to get an order to be sure that their students aren’t penalized for not participating and will be able to get certified when they graduate,” Denise replied. “But ending it totally would probably be kind of complicated; I suppose the school would have to challenge the authority of the government curriculum inspector department to overturn the rule that the college must run it.”
“Sounds like you dealt it a mortal blow then; that was so cool, sweetheart.”
~~~~
It was time for Amelia’s first appointment for her genital injury and her father had made arrangements with the Neurology Department at UIL Hospital where recent advances in repair of neurological tissues had been made, to see her.
Denise had accompanied Amelia in the examination and then the doctor met with them and Kevin; Kevin had called Elliott Hadad on his phone; he was on the line for the consultation. Kevin gave the device to Amelia to hold.
Dr Areyth Singh was one of the physicians who had developed the neurological repair techniques. He entered the office and greeted Kevin.
“I’m pleased to meet you, and understand Amelia’s father is present by phone? Correct? Hello sir; can you hear?”
“Yes, thank you,” Hadad answered.
“Excellent. I’ve examined Amelia. She has fairly extensive scarring in her pudendal area and numerous adhesions around her clitoris; also, the incision from her FGM healed improperly but that problem is not the most important one; it can be fixed, we think. As you know, Miss Roberts, Dr Weymoth from our gynecology service consulted in the exam and I just spoke to her to discuss how we should proceed. First, I think I have good news for you, Amelia.”
She relaxed visibly and Denise squeezed her hand.
“The nerve injury, as you probably know, is the source of your pain, but also the pain is causing muscle spasms throughout your pelvis and this is triggering a whole cascade of problems—each of which is contributing its own share of pain. The nerve near the wound is almost completely intact and much of the problem is caused by compression and restriction of movement caused by the scarring and adhesions. All of these areas of scar tissue are repairable; they were caused by the infection you had after your injury, Amelia.
“I’m going to review why you’ve been in such pain now, Amelia, so you’ll know that we’re not minimizing it like many doctors seem to do and say it’s a result of psychological trauma. It’s not in your mind at all; the pain is real, and this is why it hurts so badly. First, I think you have what we call a ‘neurinoma,’ it’s an injury caused when a nerve is cut or trapped in scar tissue. I believe this occurred with the dorsal nerve of the clitoris. You have both of those conditions, adhesions and neurinoma, and as a result, the surrounding area has become hypersensitive and unbearably painful.
“We also noticed some other major scarring and these are keloid scars that resulted from the slow and incomplete healing of the wound and the production of excess scar tissue. And you also had, from a review of your records, structures called dermoid cysts—these are pockets of epithelium—basically the skin—that formed during the wound’s healing. That area became swollen and infected. Your doctors back in Indonesia treated the cysts, but after the area healed, it left other scarring and adhesions. Fortunately you’re young and healthy and the underlying tissues are strong so your treatment will almost certainly be successful.
“Now here is the course of treatment we recommend. Before we can work on the nerve itself, we’ll have to break up the scar tissue that’s formed. This needs to be done a little at a time because it involves non-invasive massage and a new development in a cold laser device to reach deeper tissues. Amelia, this releasing massage is fairly uncomfortable for the patient and takes place over a period of several months, but as the tissues become more flexible and the internal adhesions are released, your general pain should lessen. Are you with me so far?”
“Yes...” she whispered. “But it can get better? It hurt awfully where you were pressing me at first.”
“Do you think you could stand having that done a few times more if each time it isn’t as bad as the last? With it getting a little better each time?”
Amelia closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “If it helps, then yes.”
“That’s good, because when I pressed there, I could feel the scar tissue next to the nerve move a little, meaning it pulled away from the nerve a bit. Doing that relieves the pressure slowly and we have to do that gradually to allow normal healing between treatments. That’s the kind of therapy I intend, pressing and rolling the tissues to break up the scar tissue, to break up the keloids and make the skin around the nerve more flexible, which also improves the blood supply there. I won’t be doing these treatments myself as we have therapy experts in that field at the hospital. Your vagina also has an area of scarring but Dr Weymoth told me that treating that is routine and not very painful—there is discomfort, she says—I wouldn’t know, not having those parts...”
The others chuckled.
“...but she says the kind of scarring and adhesions you have there is not uncommon. We would see you weekly for your treatments and each would be for a half hour to 45 minutes; we don’t want to tax your pain tolerance more than necessary—how do you feel now, Amelia?”
“Tingly and throbbing.”
“Any sharp pain or is it dull?”
“It’s a dull throbbing. And something like an itch.”
“Actually that’s a good sign; parts of the nerve are starting to pass impulses. So if you can tolerate maybe five big jolts like I gave you in a half hour mixed in with gentle rolling over the scarred areas, I think you should make good progress. You’ll need to use a cold pack on the area after treatments and when you get home today because we want to promote blood circulation but don’t want swelling, Okay? Think you can handle that?”
“Oh, yes, if it helps me get better!”
“I think there’s an excellent likelihood that you’ll be close to being pain free by the time treatment is complete, miss. Oh yes. Your chart from Jakarta shows that you aren’t on any birth control meds. Is that still true?”
Amelia blushed. “Yes... it’s not like I can do that...”
“No, no,” Singh said, “I’m not implying anything. Some girls need the hormones to regulate their menses. In your treatment, we want to avoid adding any hormones to your system, so no contraceptive pills or shots for you, young lady. Until we know that your healing is complete. Okay? Are there any other questions, Amelia? Miss Roberts? Yes, Amelia?”
“Um... I don’t have gym ‘cuz of this problem but there are exercises I want to do.”
“Well, tell me what they are. I might have your answer but our therapist might be better to ask.”
“It’s using an elliptical thing and... what were the others, Kevin?”
“Machines like an elliptical trainer, a stair-stepper or adductor/abductor device, or leg presses, things like that.”
“Ah, okay,” Dr Singh said. “I’d avoid those. We’re trying to loosen the tissues in the pudendal area and those exercises strengthen the muscles there. I’d avoid doing exercises using machines like those for at least a year after therapy is over, too. But walking on a treadmill is okay. I’m not sure about biking, so ask the therapist when you come in next. Is there anything else?”
Denise looked uncertain.
“Ah, Miss Roberts, don’t be shy...”
“I’m not sure if it’s my place to ask this, but, um... I was sexually molested as a young teen and had injuries causing scarring to my female parts, too. It took a lot of therapy—mostly psych but some physical treatments too—to let me have normal sexual function. Um... will Amelia have... ah... normal feelings... normal sensation... will she be able to feel arousal like normal?”
“Oh dear, I should have addressed that. I think too clinically at times. When we finally repair the damaged nerve, I’m virtually certain that Amelia will have normal feelings or close to them. I’ve treated a few FGM victims to date, girls with worse mutilations, and have been able to restore at least some sensory function with significantly reduced pain, so in Amelia’s case I think the prognosis is mostly good. You know, we can’t be 100 percent sure, but I believe this case will be successful.” Singh turned and spoke to the phone. “Mr Hadad, are you satisfied with what I’ve covered concerning your daughter?”
“Oh yes, doctor. You’ve answered everything I could think of; thank you very much.”
“Okay, then, thank you all,” Singh said. “I’ll show you to where you can check out and make your next appointments.” He walked them out. “Have a good day,” he said as he shook hands and left.
“That’s such good news,” Hadad said to his daughter by phone. “This was a good visit but we need to ring off now. Tell the others ‘bye. Love you, dear.”
“Yes, Papa, love you too.” She turned to Kevin. “Here’s your mobile back. Thanks, Kevin. Papa says goodbye to you guys. Oh, I’m so happy!”
“Yeah, let’s go celebrate at a nice restaurant,” Kevin said. “Then we’ll get you home and ice you down.”
Amelia shot him a disgusted look. “Yuck, Kevin...”
~~~~
The following week, Denise entered her stats class at the ed school and the professor told her to see her after class. When the class ended, she went to the front of the room.
“Miss Roberts,” she said, “Dean Phillips asked me to give you this,” passing over an envelope.
Denise read the letter as she walked to her next class. It was an informal request for her to see the dean at her earliest chance; in it he also told her that she was correct in her assertion that her enrollment in classes in the ed school did not make her a member of their teacher-training program and apologized for their earlier error. She called his office to see about available appointment times and learned that he could see her after her next class.
When she arrived at the ed school’s offices, Mrs Jaimeson ushered her into Phillips’ office and smiled at her.
“I don’t have to stay now, dearie,” she winked. “And thank you for your courage and standing up for yourself,” she whispered as she left.
Phillips stood up and indicated that Denise should be seated.
“Miss Roberts, thanks for coming. I hope that this meeting will be much more amicable than our last one, where I’m willing to admit I was sorely bested by your eloquence in your defense. First, I will confirm that indeed, you aren’t enrolled in our teacher-training program. And second, your course grades will not be affected by programs external to your two classes. I could have disposed of those matters with a simple letter to you expressing those facts. But I wanted to discuss a matter with you which has me burning with curiosity.”
Denise looked at him with a puzzled expression. “Okay, sir...?”
“Well...” Phillips folded his hands in front of him and looked down at them, then up at her. “Last time you mentioned, amongst a lot of other things, that you were involved somehow in having the Program terminated in American schools.”
“That’s true, yes...” Denise agreed.
“So it may not come as a surprise, judging from your... um... was it a threat? to kill the Program here... well, what I’m trying to say is that you’ve done something with our students—your name keeps popping up—well, for the past two weeks, not a single student will participate in our Program. Two weeks ago, the students we named to participate at our Monday morning meeting were all prepared with letters from Health Services which forbade them from being naked in any public areas where the temperature was under 25 degrees. And some of them also challenged sections of the Program rulebook, trying to show that the rules were not enforceable. Then in the past seven days, our administration has begun to get letters from solicitors who are threatening lawsuits if the students’ grades are adversely affected by their not participating in the Program. It seems that you met with a group of students and counseled them, according to the rumors. Are those rumors true?”
Denise tried to hide her grin at this news. “Yes, it’s true. I told them what we had done at our schools in the States. Everyone was very appreciative of hearing about that, in fact.”
“I’m sure they were,” he said wryly. “I took the liberty of contacting your American university, Avery, and learned some very illuminating facts. A Denise Roberts was listed as a contributor in a major education study done at Avery and a local secondary school and a series of papers were published about that study. It was on the Naked in School Program in the States. The background information of the study covered how that Program was forced to shut down. That same Denise Roberts, it seems, was a student at that secondary school involved in the study when the Program was terminated there. Am I correct in assuming your um... threat... to me was not an empty one and was based on things you actually had done?”
Denise now smiled openly. “It wasn’t an empty threat, sir. Those things were done by my friends and me; yes, we were the people who got the Program stopped. What you do in your country is no business of mine, sir, but you involved me in it, so I simply responded in the most appropriate way. Notwithstanding the fact that there’s no social or educational benefit to the Program, I couldn’t bear to see how little regard your school and government officials had for the health and safety of the kids who were forced into the Program.”
“Hmpf. This, well... rebellion... has caused a major problem for us with Ofsted,” Phillips went on. “And apparently at other ed schools too, because the word spread quickly about how the students aren’t participating. We’ve had to take on the Department for Education and our solicitors have now asked them to produce the legal justifications for their curriculum rulings. I hope you’re satisfied that you’ve thrown our education system into some disarray, young lady. We will endeavor to keep you far away from any other political issues about education policy while you’re studying here, you can be sure,” he finished with a smile. “Well, thanks for satisfying my curiosity.”
Denise left the dean’s office with a big smile. “Mission accomplished. Kevin will be fascinated to hear about this,” she mused.
~~~~
The following week was Amelia’s autumn school break; the following week also passed uneventfully, and then Kevin got a call from Warren Porter.
“Kevin, do you have dress-up clothes? ... Good. And Denise? ... Fine. I’m calling because I’d like you to come to a little gathering at the embassy on Thursday evening and I hope you can make it.”
“Okay, Warren, Denise and I are free then, so sure.”
“Excellent. The dress is semi-formal, suit and dress, but nothing overly fancy. Ah, bring your passports; embassy security, you know. I’ll send a car to fetch you at 5 pm. Will that time work? It can be as late as 5:30.”
“Ah, 5 o’clock is good.”
“Perfect. See you Thursday then.”
Thursday evening came and Kevin and Denise were picked up by Porter’s limo and brought to the embassy where they were checked in by two security people, who notified Porter that his guests had arrived.
“Hi, guys,” Porter said as he came up to them. “We’ll be meeting our group in the drawing room. There are some folks here who knew your parents, Kevin, so they wanted to see you—you might even remember some of them. Then we’ll have dinner.”
“Lead on, sir, this should be interesting, then,” Kevin said, and shot a reassuring glance at Denise, who seemed a bit uncertain. “You okay?” he whispered.
“Oh... sure, I thought you might be uncomfortable, you know, talking about your folks,” she whispered back.
“They’re always with me as a loving memory, dear. I’m fine.”
They entered the room and Kevin saw several people whom he did recognize; Porter led them around, making introductions. They were chatting for about fifteen minutes when Porter was pulled aside. He returned to them a minute later and made a hand signal; the other guests moved to one side of the room.
Porter grinned at Kevin and Denise. “This was a setup and surprise for you two. One of your biggest fans is here and wanted to meet you... and... ahh... here he is...”
Porter turned to the door and President Gerston stepped into the room, trailed by a man wearing an enormous grin.
Denise gasped when she recognized the president while Kevin smiled uncertainly. Gerston walked up to them and took Denise’s hand, kissed it, then grasped Kevin’s in a firm shake.
“My, it’s great to see you two again, and in such different circumstances!” Gerston exclaimed. “When I learned you were in London, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to get to see you. How have you been these few years? And my hearty congratulations to you on your engagement, too.”
“Sir? You knew we were here... how...?” Kevin trailed off.
“Ah, now that’s quite a tale, right, Charlie?” Gerston asked the grinning man standing next to him; Kevin and Denise were so fixated on Gerston that they saw him for the first time.
“Kevin, Denise, this is Charles Wixom, our ambassador to Britain; Charlie, these are Denise Rogers and Kevin Coris. Obviously you know about their background, HA, HA, that scene in Brussels was memorable. I loved it,” Gerston laughed and Wixom shook his head chuckling.
Just then two women came in and walked up to the group.
Gerston repeated the introductions, this time naming his spouse, Rita, and the ambassador’s wife, Marjory. Kevin and Denise were watching Gerston with bemused expressions while Porter was smirking at them knowingly.
“Denise, Kevin, let me greet the other guests briefly,” Gerston said. “Then we’ll have a little time to talk.”
They nodded, and Gerston and Wixom, with their spouses, began to make the rounds of the others in the room.
Kevin turned to Porter. “Set up is right! That was so nasty! You couldn’t give us any warning?”
“Hell, Kevin. Actually that was the president’s idea. He said if you knew he wanted to see you, you’d be on the first flight back to the States. He told me how he had to work his agencies hard to first find out who you were, and after they did that, he had to send the Secret Service, FBI, federal marshals, and God knows who else—out to get you to go to the White House,” Porter chuckled.
“However did he know we were here in London?” Denise said, still partially in shock.
“That’s also his story to tell and, heh, heh, Denise, you’re part of that too... ah, here they come.”
Denise shot Porter a look of dismay but then tried to assume a smile as the dignitaries rejoined them. Then Barbara Porter came into the room and walked over to them.
“Hi, sorry I missed everyone’s introductions; hello, Mr President and Mrs Gerston. A minor family issue needed attention. Anyway, staff tells me that cocktails are ready,” Barbara said.
They walked out to the reception hall while Rita Gerston gushed over Denise’s ring.
“Harry told me what a delightful young woman you were, Denise,” she said. “It’s wonderful that you and Kevin are still doing great things as a couple and... oops, I need to let Harry tell you the rest...” she finished lamely.
Denise looked at Kevin and they both shrugged.
“Well now,” Gerston said when they were settled in the reception hall. “You asked how I knew you were here? Would you believe that we’ve kept track of your whereabouts? No, don’t worry; I’m teasing. This is such a great story... Anyway, I was in Brussels for that summit conference; you might have heard about it since we were rehashing some economic difficulties involving the U.S. and the E.U. Anyway, I was speaking with the PM—the British prime minister—in a sidebar about how to deal with one thorny issue. The PM sighed, and then she said the problem we were wrestling with should be much simpler to solve than the sticky domestic crisis that her government was currently handling. I asked her if it was a serious crisis and she kind of shrugged and said it was a weird, stupid one but politically charged, over—get this—teaching naked kids!
“I thought that was funny but she was serious. She said that her education department was trying to suppress a rebellion in their teaching colleges...”
Denise’s hand went to her mouth and she looked like she was in shock.
“... and then Warren here laughed and asked the PM if she knew who was responsible for the uproar. I think Warren suspected who was involved. The PM called over an aide, who made a few calls while we discussed a few other matters, then he came back. He said their sources claimed that it appeared to have been originated by a U.S. student in college in London whose name was Denise Roberts and her friend or fiancé, whose name they thought was Kevin something!” Gerston laughed.
Kevin and Denise sat back in their seats in shock while the others roared in laughter.
Gerston went on, “The PM complained to me that we were exporting our rebellion to the U.K., ha ha; she said that their entire teaching-training program was disrupted for their teaching their students about that stupid naked program that Denise and Kevin took down in the U.S. I told her that I knew all about you two; I didn’t know that you were over here, but I warned her that if they didn’t treat you properly, soon the U.K. would be an American colony! HA HA!” he laughed again.
“So what did you actually do to roil yet another major government?” Gerston asked, still chuckling. “I gather it was mainly Denise this time?”
“Um, sir, I guess so,” Denise replied. “I had no idea my suggestions would have such an effect... They had started the Naked in School Program in colleges here and tried to put me into it, so I met with some students and told them about some things they could do to oppose it. They were trying to run it in the college I’m attending here and a girl was naked outdoors and freezing. I had to help.”
“Of course you did. And then Kevin got involved too,” Gerston prompted, chuckling.
“Well, sir, I came to support Denise. She had some great ideas,” Kevin demurred.
Gerston smiled at him. “Folks, according to the PM’s aide, Denise told those college kids to get prescriptions for clothing from their health services as protective equipment, HA HA, and Kevin was the legal ‘expert’ who told the kids how they should interpret the laws and regulations so they couldn’t be used to require their nudity. Sounds like Kevin did a bit more than just supporting Denise, don’t you think? Anyway, you two, I wanted to thank you for giving me a memorable time at what was becoming a boring summit conference. And there’s another significant matter to mention, Kevin. Roger Vickers tells me that his kids have posters of you hanging in their rooms. Of you and not me. Even though it was me who got them spirited them out of the country so they avoided the Program in their school. But apparently you’re more important than me. Why do you think that might be? HA HA! Now let’s talk about some less controversial matters.”
Of course everyone wanted to know what that poster business was about. After the poster matter was disposed of and dinner was over, Kevin and Denise bade farewell to the president and his wife and were ready to be returned home.
Barbara took them aside, smiling at Denise. “Denise, dear, you should talk to Jeremy about what you did to organize your uni Program opposition; he’s become really interested in combating social problems and the Naked in School Program is one of them. That’s why I was late before; I was dealing with a problem that his outspokenness is causing. It appears that he’s annoyed some people with some of the things he’s been writing about. Anyway, that was fun this evening. You two have really impressed Mr Gerston, you know. I’m surprised he didn’t ask you to work on his reelection campaign too!”
They all laughed and arranged for another family gathering in several weeks; then Kevin and Denise took their leave.
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