Chapter 26: The Beat of Our Hearts

October 14th, 1995, 9:40 AM CT, Union Station, Chicago, IL

The Cardinal arrived into Chicago Union Station fairly close to on time; only about 30 minutes late. They had been told that the Cardinal tended to run late; this meant that they had plenty of time in the Windy City before their next train, the Southwest Chief departed for Los Angeles at 5:40 PM that night. They were hungry; they had overslept and had not gotten breakfast on the train. They asked a passing person where they should get breakfast, and the person told them Lou Mitchell’s.

Lou Mitchell’s was easy to get to from the station; they simply exited the Great Hall onto Jackson Blvd, crossed it, and turned left and crossed Clinton St. It was right there, just in from the corner, with a massive sign that looked like it had been there for thirty years; the restaurant itself had opened in 1923. It was a cash-only restaurant, and they both ordered eggs and toast. The marmalade in particular was absolutely fantastic, as was the strong, thick coffee.

“Seven und a haff hours we haff,” Miriam said, “Stuff we should do.”

“Why don’t we just walk around the city?” Baruch suggested, “I’ve always wanted to see Marshall Fields. We could see the Sears Tower, and there-”

“Towuh?” Miriam scoffed, “Bar, yuh know dat I am de height’s scared off. None off dis towuh chazerei! But a new dress I could use, the Mawshawl Fields tuh me sounds goot.”

“Always with the dresses,” Baruch replied, “I think that some tight jeans would look good on you.”

“De new glasses yuh need,” Miriam laughed, knowing he was playing with her, “A famous awht museum I had heard dere vas.” Bah

“An art museum?” Baruch replied, looking at her with a raised eyebrow, “I thought you were just telling me I needed new glasses. How could I see anything?”

“Feh!” she replied, “Du farkirtst mir di yorn!”

“I’ll be the death of you?” He said with a smile, “Only if you die laughing.”

“A pain in de tuchus yuh are,” Miriam laughed with a smile, “Zo Mawshawl Fields and de awht museum?

They went to Marshall Fields first, the huge and famous department store, on State Street. It was one of the first department stores built to be a palace of retail for the service of customers, and it possessed an atmosphere of luxury and Beaux Arts beauty. After marveling at the store’s huge size and stunning architecture, Miriam, of course, started looking at clothes. Baruch somehow found a pair of slim-fit bellbottom jeans and a nice looking, dark blue, tight fitting t-shirt and insisted Miriam try them on.

When she came out of the dressing room, Baruch had been intending to make a trumped-up show of how good she looked, but he didn’t have to. He just let out a low whistle; she looked so sexy to him. For 58 her body was still in good shape, and her slightly wavy, slightly greying hair framed her beautiful face just perfectly, with the shirt and pants perfectly highlighting how unbelievably beautiful she was.

“That’s it,” he finally got out, “I’m buying that for you, Mimi.”

“Feh, yuh awh fahrtummelt,” she said, “Tuh much off an alterkakka I am fawh dis, mein kishka iss too big.”

“Let me be the judge,” Baruch said, “You don’t look old, and your belly is just perfect.”

“Yuh be de judge?” she scoffed, “A schlemiel I should let judge?”

“I have good taste,” he purred at her, “I picked you didn’t I?”

“Dat is my point exactly.”

“Shush,” he said, “Go change back into something fit for the weather here and let’s buy that outfit.”

“Unfahrbesserlich,” she muttered under her breath as she went back to the changing room.

Un-betterable indeed, Baruch laughed to himself, Growing up is for fools, anyway. She really doesn’t know how beautiful she is. So much will, so much determination, so much good. I’m the luckiest man on earth.

October 14th, 1995, 10:40 AM PT, Chapel of the Flowers, Las Vegas, NV

The Chapel of the Flowers was one of the oldest wedding chapels on the Vegas strip, and also an inexpensive one. Josh and Akilah rented a tuxedo and a dress respectively, and they got the La Capella chapel for the ceremony. It wasn’t done all that fancy. It wasn’t about the ceremony, it was about being legally married. Well that’s what they kept telling themselves.

“I can not believe I am doing this,” Akilah said, sitting in the bride’s room after putting her dress on, “Jillian, am I crazy?”

“You’re joking, right?” Jill said to her, “You’re, like, the perfect couple. Are you questioning your commitment? Are you questioning your love? I don’t get it.”

“No,” Akilah said, “By Allah’s goodness, I know I have found the right man, I know Joshua is the one. But we are here getting married in Las Vegas, and so fast. I only just met you eleven days ago. I met Josh then. Here I am marrying him, Jillian. In Las Vegas, like out of a movie. You aren’t married to George, for example.”

“I would be,” Jill told her, “If it was legal and wouldn’t get us into a world of trouble. I’m getting married on my 18th birthday, Acky, I wish I could be doing what you are right now, honest.”

“It just feels so cheap, so ... fake,” Akilah said, “What I feel for Josh is real. I wish I could be doing this with my parents, with his parents, with my family. This is something I always dreamed of, and never thought I would get, being as ugly as I am.”

“Would you stop with that?” Jill said, “Please? You are far from ugly, Acky, you have an inner beauty that radiates from within, that completely dwarfs mine.”

“You are the one who is beautiful, Jill,” Akilah sighed, “You could be a model.”

“I don’t know how to explain this to you, Acky,” Jill replied, “There is so much more to beauty than just how you look in a picture. Josh thinks you are beautiful.”

“I know he does,” Akilah said, “But nobody else does.”

“You are wrong,” Jill said, “Just trust me.”

“George does not think I’m beautiful,” Akilah suggested an example.

“Hoo boy, if only you knew,” Jill thought she said silently.

“What do you mean?” Akilah jumped.

“Did I say that out loud?” Jill asked, “He finds you hot as heck, Acky, as Josh tried to sing, you’ve got a way about you, okay? You’re a lucky girl, Akilah, you found a boy who loves you for everything you are. Everyone gets wedding bell jitters. You couldn’t do better.”

“I just wish, somehow, it was as romantic as how we met,” Akilah said.

“If we get everything together, we’ll throw you another party later, this is just the legal thing, ok?”

Akilah hugged Jill, “Thank you for being here for me, both of you, even if your boyfriend finds me hot.”

“Acky, its not just him, trust me,” Jill said, kissing her on the top of the head, “Now let’s get out there.”

Jill trailed behind Akilah as she walked out of the room and went to stand out in the front of the small and somewhat astringent chapel. Josh was already standing there. He looked nervous as all heck, which somehow made Akilah feel a bit better. She knew that if he was nervous, then it meant they were both ... adequately nervous at the endeavor they were about to embark on.

The chapel’s officiant stood in front of them, George and Jill standing behind them looking on, with John there as well.

“We gather here today to celebrate the wedding of Joshua Abatee and Ackillah Gane-am,” he said in a monotone, “The two of you have come here to share in this formal commitment you make to one another, to offer your love and support to this union, and to allow Joshua and Ackillah to start their married life together with the people dearest and most important to them.”

“Marriage is perhaps the greatest and most challenging adventure of human relationships,” he droned on in rote, “No ceremony can create your marriage; only you can do that through love and patience; through dedication and perseverance; through talking and listening, helping and supporting and believing in each other; through tenderness and laughter; through learning to forgive, learning to appreciate your differences, and by learning to make the important things matter, and to let go of the rest. What this ceremony can do is to witness and affirm the choice you make to stand together as partners.”

“Joshua and Ackillah, do you come with joy and anticipation to this moment when you will be legally joined in marriage? Do you pledge to treat each other with kindness, respect and compassion, to listen to each other and to speak to each other with honesty, today and always?”

“I do,” Akilah said, trying not to laugh as she thought about strangling the officiant for saying her name so wrong.

“I do,” Josh said, also trying to stifle his amusement.

“Joshua, do you take Ackillah, to be your lawfully wedded wife; to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse; for richer, for poorer; in sickness and in health; to love and to cherish; until the end of your days.”

“Nah,” Josh said, “But Akilah I do take in de same mannuh yuh suggest.”

Akilah could no longer stifle her laughter and clutched her belly and started laughing uncontrollably; George and Jill joined them, and finally Josh laughed, too. The officiant looked pissed off as all hell, making them laugh harder.

“I’m glad to hear it,” the officiant finally grumbled, “Now, Akeelah, do you take Joshua, to be your lawfully wedded husband; to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse; for richer, for poorer; in sickness and in health; to love and to cherish; until the end of your days.”

“I do,” she said, still chuckling.

“Then I pronounce you man and wife,” he grumbled, “You can kiss the bride.”

Akilah and Josh embraced tightly and kissed, longingly and lovingly, the strength of their love apparent to everyone but the dunderhead officiant. John presented them with wedding rings, simple ones in gold, which they put on.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the officiant stated, “I present you Mr. and Mrs. Joshua Abati.”

They quickly left, happy in their new found status, but feeling more than a bit cold as to the nature of Las Vegas weddings.

“I wish that was a bit more personal,” Akilah said.

“Less personal than dat it would have de trouble bein’,” Josh agreed.

“I got married to my wife by a conductor in the parlor car of a train called the Niagara Rainbow, actually.”

“Somehow mawh romantic dat sounds tuh me,” Josh laughed.

“It’s not the romance that matters,” Jill said, “It’s the love of the people being married. You had a good laugh, you’ll always remember it.”

“Yes, Joshua,” Akilah said, “That I will always remember. Thank you for that.”

October 14th, 1995, 11:45 AM PT, Caesar’s Palace, Las Vegas, NV

All five of them got back to their suite, and then Jill and George suggested to John that they go and look at the several casinos that were under construction in Vegas at the time, including the nearly completed Stratosphere, and the ridiculous New York, New York resort that was about half completed, and then possibly just touring the general strip. It was a thinly veiled attempt to give them some privacy for what was traditionally supposed to happen after a wedding.

Josh and Akilah appreciated the gesture, and went up to their bedroom. They had left their rented finery at the wedding chapel; Josh was wearing a polo shirt with “Caesar’s Palace” on it that Jill had bought for him, and khaki pants; Akilah was wearing a medium fitting long sleeve t-shirt and a pair of loose fitting jeans.

“Befawh we do dis,” Josh said, “Our parents we should tell, okay?”

“Why do we need to tell them?” Akilah said, a bit nervous.

“Our parents dey are,” Josh said, “Dat we are now married dey deserve tuh know. Yuh with me?”

“I am scared to tell my parents this,” Akilah said, “They are very likely to not accept that I married, let alone someone they have never met, an American, a non-muslim, or especially a Jew.”

“Not happy my parents are gonna be when dey find out,” Josh said, “Tell dem aboutcha I should have befawh. But in love we are, a good person yuh are, acceptcha dey will, eventually, I promise. Around your parents will also come, okay, or what?”

“I am quite sure they will not accept,” Akilah said sadly, “I wish it was not so, but they have not accepted a great many of my decisions. There is a reason I left, Joshua.”

“I know impawhtant your parents are,” Josh said, “But each othuh we now have, Acky. Geawhge and Jill we have, too. Alone yuh will nevuh be. I promise I will accept dem if dey accept us, Acky, and ok I will be if dey don’t, but de mawh time we put off tellin’ dem, de wawhse it will be, my darlin’ wife. Fawhevuh we have tuh be togethuh, wit’ or wit’out dem. Sit here wit’ yuh I will. Okay?”

Josh put his arms around here and kissed her.

“Can you call yours first?”

“Of course,” Josh said, and picked up the phone and dialed.

It rang and rang, and then the answering machine clicked on, “You have reached the residence of Baruch, Miriam, and Joshua Abati,” his father’s voice spoke, “Please leave your name, number, and a brief message after the beep, and we will call you back.”

Josh looked at the table clock. It was almost noon, which meant it was almost 3:00 PM in New York. It was Saturday, and his parents would certainly be back from synagogue by now. He was confused as to why they were not home. The beep came.

“Hi mom and dad,” he said evenly, “I have amazin’ news fawh yuh, please call me back; I am in Las Vegas at Caesuh’s Palace, we are in Fawhum FS4, any time is fine, love yuh, bye.”

“They were not home?” Akilah asked.

“Home dey were not,” Josh said, “I don’t know why, at dis time, home dey should be.”

“Now that I am thinking about it,” Akilah said shyly, “I don’t know what time it is in Gaza City.”

Josh rang down to the desk and asked them what time it was in Jerusalem, which is in the same time zone. He was put on hold for a few minutes; it turned out it was 9:58 PM.

“They might be getting into bed,” Akilah temporized.

“Acky, tuh do de pullin’ off of de band-aid best,” Josh said, rubbing her shoulder, “Quickly yuh should pull it off. Right?”

“Okay, okay,” she said, and started dialing the twelve digits of her parents’ full international phone number, and the proper sequence for an outside line, she waited for a while, and then a female voice could be heard in tones on the other end of the line, “Mrhbaan ya ‘amii, ‘ana asif li’aniy aitasalat mtakhraan, lkn ldy ‘akhbarun. Yumkinuk wade ‘abi ealaa.“

“Good evening,” her mother said, “Ganem residence, Sabah speaking.”

“Hi mom,” Akilah said nervously, “I am sorry I am calling so late, but I have news. Can you put dad on?”

There was a pause as her mother called in the background, and then she said, “Why do you sound so nervous, Akilah?”

“I will wait for my father to get on,” Akilah said just as the phone clicked as the other extension was picked up.

“I am on the line, Akilah,” Rezza replied sternly, “Why are you calling so late? Are you in Los Angeles yet?”

“It is not so late here,” she replied, “And I am actually in Las Vegas.”

“What are you doing in Las Vegas?” Sabah asked, “That is a detestable city.”

“Long distance calls are expensive, and I am not paying, so I am going to get to the point, my beloved mother and father,” Akilah said, gathering her strength, “I got married this morning to a wonderful boy. I am now a married woman, my-”

“What?” Rezza roared into the phone, “You didn’t tell me about this, you can’t get married without my permission, Akilah. Who is this person you think you married?”

“I am in America, father,” Akilah said, “I can get married without your permission very easily. His name is Joshua Abati, he is a wonderful boy from Brooklyn, and I love him very much.”

“I hope he is at least from a good family,” Rezza replied, seething, “I hope they are devout followers of Islam.”

“No, father,” Akilah responded carefully, “Joshua is a Jewish boy-”

“You married a Jewish pig?” her father spat, “The same people who killed your brother?”

Akilah’s rage flared up. Her brother killed a bunch of Jews by blowing himself up. Each Jewish Israeli who killed or ordered the killing of a Palestinian were responsible for the death of each Palestinian they killed, and the Palestinians who killed or ordered the killing of Israelis were responsible for each Israeli they killed or had killed. To look at it any other way was the kind of childish insanity that drove her from her home town to begin with. Her brother had killed himself, and a lot of innocent people. He was no hero.

“Joshua couldn’t kill a mouse,” Akilah yelled at her father, “He is a boy so full of love and kindness, that alone flutters my heart for him. He is so much more than that, too. You are insulting my husband, and I will not abide that. You will accept my decision, father, or we do not have to speak again. I am your daughter, but I don’t always need to listen your whims!”

“We have no need to speak again,” Rezza said with seething coldness, “For you are not my daughter.” He then slammed down the phone.