Satis

Remember when I said things were going swimmingly with the butler?  I kinda fibbed… a little.  And it’s because of Satis.

The butler went to get Sage out of the high chair when Satis raced to get her before the butler could get there.  Satis gets really possessive when it comes to Sage.  Funny, I don’t remember her behaving this way when AJ was little.  She shoots the butler this look – I mean, you really don’t want to mess around with her when she gives that look. 

I had to explain to Satis that Toya now has most of the duties with Sage, and that her only duty was to improve her grades in school.

To that end, I sat on the opposite end of the table while she and Imsety were doing their homework.  Sety levied his usual complaint about school – in Arabic – and I heard them speaking in Arabic about the assignment.

Then, emphatically, I heard Satis grumble, “World history sucks!”

Of course, I pretended not to hear while I was re-reading a trashy romance novel.  It’s as bad as I remember it, lol.  The prose is trite and rife with clichés. 

“What did you say about world history, Satis?”  I asked her.

“It sucks.  Our teacher wants us to write an essay.”

I took a deep breath.  I knew that world history would be a sore subject for my kids, given that, well, they’re Egyptian.  They cannot possibly give an unbiased opinion, and I knew that I in my own Anglo prism could not possibly comprehend their heritage and history. 

“Satis, I’m sure your teacher might appreciate your unique perspective,” I said.

And that isn’t all.  Satis’ teacher is recruiting her for the writing club, the same club I was recruited for back in the day.  I’ll say it once and I’ll say it again – when Satis is ready to talk, she will.  That simple.

I have told the school authorities some of my story.  But I have not told them everything.  I am not the kind of woman most people expect to have adopted children from a foreign country, but I am richer for it. 

I think I understand now why Samir Amin fought tooth and nail to keep his kids away from me.  I am a pale, blond, green-eyed Anglo, and thus, in his eyes, not to be trusted.  The last I heard of him, he was in prison.  I dare not tell the kids that he is still alive.  They were afraid of him and had every reason to be.