Chapter 29: Summertime for Us All

October 17th, 1995, 7:30 AM PT, Metro Plaza Hotel, Los Angeles, CA

Miriam had been tossing and turning all night; she spent time just sitting in the chair in the corner of the room to try and let Baruch sleep. She was so upset she was oblivious to the fact that Baruch couldn’t sleep either, which was not in her nature. She was usually fully aware of what was going on with her husband. They thought together almost telepathically, and yesterday had been one of the first times in decades when they were divided in where there heads were.

She was pissed at herself. Really pissed at herself. She had branches of her family that had the kinds of fights that resulted in splits in the family. She had swore to herself that she would never be one of those people. She wouldn’t be one to ruin a lifelong relationship over her disagreement with a choice the person made. And there she was, telling her husband she was going to disown her beloved child - her biggest reason for living - because he had chosen a life partner she didn’t approve of.

She really hadn’t noticed much of the girl herself, besides her brown skin and big glasses. The moment she had heard where she was from, she just wrote all kinds of labels into the blanks. She had ceased being a person; she had become a thing. A bad thing. As she had thought through the night, one of the things she had hit upon was that there was something deeply wrong with her.

She was thinking like the Nazis; she was doing the same thing they had done when they eventually decided to imprison her, starve her, use her as slave labor, and physically and sexually abuse her. They had done that because the German people let Hitler brainwash them into seeing Jews as less than people, with hearts, minds, personalities, and souls. She was letting herself view a girl from Palestine in the same way; she wasn’t a girl who had so captivated her misanthropic son, he fell in love with, and chose to marry her. She was just a Palestinian, the animals that were terrorizing the land of her people.

She was truly disgusted with herself. Of course Palestinians were not animals. They were people, and many of them may well be the enemy of her people. But each individual was just that. The girl was an individual. Maybe she was unworthy of her son; she might very well be that, but she deserved to be judged and tried as an individual person. Not only was she grossly insulting ... Akilah? That was the name. Not only was she grossly insulting Akilah, she was grossly insulting her own son.

She was assuming and reacting to the belief that he must have made a bad choice. Her son was not an idiot; he was closer to a genius than an idiot. People were not his thing; he distrusted them and almost never made friends. Yet somehow, this girl, was one he would make friends with. He wasn’t pro-Palestine; he had exhibited anti-Palestine and anti-Muslim opinions at home. She must be special to have overcome all that. She deserved a fair shake.

All of this did not mean she wasn’t still very angry. She was deeply offended that her son married without even introducing the girl to her, let alone seeking their approval. She thought that in the years she had raised her son, she had earned the right to be trusted with that. She still thought the time frame of their relationship was totally wacky. But she knew that at this moment all those things were already done. She had two choices; she could either never forgive her son, and live the rest of her life without him, or she could forgive him, and try to build a relationship with her son and her new daughter-in-law.

She looked at the little silver-and-gold Citizen on her wrist, and realized it was already past a reasonable hour for getting up. She had made a mistake; she should have gone straight back there last night, and told Josh she was giving him a second chance. But she didn’t. She got off the chair, and walked over to the bed and shook Baruch gently.

“I’m awake, Mimi,” Baruch said, “Are you ready to go back to their place and start over?”

“Already yuh vere avake?” Miriam replied, “Ready I am tuh start ovuh.”

Baruch got out of bed and put on khaki shorts and a polo shirt. Miriam was already wearing the shirt-and-jeans outfit she had bought at Marshall Fields.

“Just keep thinking of Summertime, Mimi,” Baruch told her.

“Summertime?” Miriam replied, “Yuh mean de song from de Porgy und de Bess?”

“Yes, Mimi,” he said as he started singing:

Summertime,

And the livin’ is easy,

Fish are jumpin’,

And the cotton is high.

...

Oh, your daddy’s rich,

And your ma is good-lookin’,

So hush, little baby,

Don’t you cry.

...

One of these mornings,

You’re gonna jump up singing,

Then you’ll spread your wings,

And you’ll take to the sky!

...

Until that morning,

There is nothin’ to harm you,

Your daddy and mommy standin’ by.

...

One of these mornings,

You’re gonna jump up a-singing,

Then you’ll spread your wings,

And you’ll take to the sky!

...

Until that morning,

There is nothin’ to harm you,

Your mommy and daddy standin’ by.

Your mommy and daddy standin’ by!

“Love your singing, I do,” Miriam said, “But de point I don’t get.”

“He’s got to spread his wings and fly sometime, Mimi,” Baruch said, “And when he does, we have to let him ... even if we aren’t that fond of the partner.”

“Yes, Bar,” Miriam said, “For once you are right.”

October 17th, 1995, 9:05 AM PT, Silver Penthouse, Los Angeles, CA

George woke up with a start. His mind had been working on something in the background ever since Akilah and Josh had gotten married. He loved Jill. Yes, yes, it was just a legal document that says your union was legally recognized, but it meant something, the vows, the commitment. He knew that they were going to marry; they had agreed to that long ago. But somehow ... four years was a very long time.

George fumbled out of the bed, and sidled along into the seating area of the modified drawing room he called his bedroom. They had modified the bathroom so that it opened toward the hallway of the car, rather than to the side of the drawing room, which allowed them to place a full-sized bed to the side of the room, and also made the bathroom accessible to guests. This provided the room with the original sofa seat that was where the main two beds came from.

One of the several advantages of this was that there were still two fold down beds in the drawing room. His office was actually the most modified room; the entire bathroom facility had been removed, and a desk and counter space had been installed with a pair of swivel chairs. This meant that, in addition to the four berths provided by the unmodified bedrooms A and B, his office (originally bedroom C) had a single fold down berth, and their room had three extra fold-down berths (one making a jack-and-jill style berth on top of their full). Combined with the double pull out sofa, the car had a sleeping capacity of twelve.

He walked out of his room, turned right, went into the bathroom, and did some quick morning activities. He then turned right out of the bathroom again and went right into his office. It had changed some since Jill moved in; he had added an extra work table for her, and Jill had finally insisted he install a computer; he had a PowerMacintosh 9500 and a seventeen-inch Apple MultiScan, and he had the internet, but with a 28.8 kbps modem, it was more of a pain in the ass than anything useful.

He sat down in his swivel chair and went through his Rolodex. He found the guy he was looking for, Marvin Greenbaum, Attorney-at-law, and dialed the number on the card.

“Greenbaum, Steinberg, and Fiorino,” the receptionist answered, “How can I direct your call?”

“George Caldwell for Marvin, please.”

“One moment,” she said, and he heard the phone ring through.

“Marvin Greenbaum,” the lawyer said.

“George Caldwell,” George said, “John Caldwell’s son, I have a strange legal question.”

“Strange legal questions are my business, bubbeluh, and how is your old man doing?”

“He’s doing great, thank you,” George told him, “The question I have is, what’s the legal age for getting married in the state of California?”

“Legally speaking, boychik,” Marvin replied, “There isn’t one. Under the age of consent, which is eighteen, you need permission from the parents or legal guardian, and the approval of a judge, but that’s it. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy.”

“So lets imagine, hypothetically, that you have an eighteen year old male, and he were to want to marry a fourteen year old female, we are not related, but the father of the eighteen year old was also the legal guardian of that fourteen year old. What are the chances of getting judicial approval?”

“Well, Prince Myshkin, since you slipped and said ‘we are not related,’ I’ll assume that you are the eighteen year old,” Marvin said, “And John Caldwell is the legal guardian. In that case, you have a near-certainty of getting judicial approval, given your father’s good standing and good name in the state. He’s a macher, around these parts.”

“Really?” George said, his heart suddenly thumping considerably harder than he would have expected.

“Absolutely,” Marvin said, “If you like, I will start on the paperwork to set that in motion right now, otherwise, call me if you want me to do so.”

“I’ll call you, Marv,” George said, “I need to talk to my fiancé and my father first, I didn’t think it was possible.”

“California is a screwy state, kid,” Marvin said, “Have a nice day, boychik.”

“Likewise,” George said, and hung up the phone.

He leaned back in his seat, realizing he didn’t have to wait four years. He didn’t have to wait at all. George went back to his room, and decided to take a shower, and took his robe with him, in case Josh’s parents came by while he was in the shower.

October 17th, 1995, 9:20 AM PT, Silver Penthouse, Los Angeles, CA

Akilah was half asleep, half awake when the doorbell rang. They had planned on starting class tomorrow; they needed rest for one more day to calm things down. She had been spooned up to Josh, who had cried himself to sleep the night before. Even applying some of the techniques Jill had suggested back at the hotel in Vegas, she couldn’t make him feel particularly great. He was afraid they’d never be back. All she ended up being able to do was cuddle him close and make sure he knew he wasn’t alone.

It was a small bed; they fit on it, but it didn’t leave much room for sprawling out. She thought it might be possible to put a slightly larger bed in the room; she hoped so. She hadn’t slept that well, because he had been so upset. She had eventually managed to get him to fall asleep, a triumph for which she was quite thankful.

She lay there wondering who was ringing the bell, when it rang again. She didn’t hear anyone going to get it, so she threw on a robe that was in the room for guests, tied the belt tight, went out of the room, walked to the door to the vestibule, and saw nobody there. She then opened the door to the vestibule, and found herself in a predicament. George had apparently secured the car last night and closed the trap door, pulling up the steps in the process, and locking the outer vestibule door.

Unlocking the door wasn’t initially apparent to her, but she saw the dead-latch used to secure the upper half of the door; she undid that opened the Dutch door.

Looking down, she saw Baruch and Miriam Abati standing there.

“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Abati,” she said, “Give me a second, I do not know how open this door, let me figure it out.”

She saw a pair of switches on the wall, one saying “Door”, and she pushed the switch, which electronically undid the bolt on the lower half of the door. She then turned the handle again, and got the door fully open. She pushed the other button on the door, and watched the handle on the door turn automatically. She remembered when George had turned the key on the outside of the car, both the door handle and the lock had opened at once. She was finding this whole experience rather stressful, afraid she was looking awkward, stupid, and like she wasn’t that anxious to let them in. She wanted to make a good second impression, at least, since the first one had been so bad.

She looked at the floor and thought for a moment, saw the foot switch, and stomped on it, lifting the trap door in the process. She grabbed it in her hand and latched it up to the wall.

“Please, come in,” Akilah said, gesturing them in.

“Vhere is Joshua?” Miriam asked, a touch brusquely.

“He is still in bed, the sleepyhead,” Akilah said.

“Vhere is his room?” Miriam asked.

“Come, follow me,” Akilah said, “He isn’t decent, though.”

“He never has been,” Baruch joked.

Akilah lead them into the combined room by the door closest to the sofa, continued past them, and shook him until he looked at her with bleary eyes. “Joshuluh, your parents are here.”

“A minute I need,” Josh said, “Right out I will be.”

“No, Josh,” Akilah smiled at him, and handed him his glasses, “They are here in the room.”

“Oh,” he said, “OH! I need clothes, Acky.”

“Here,” she said, handing him his underwear and shirt.

“So modest yuh have become, Joshua,” Miriam said.

“We started out on the wrong foot yesterday, Josh,” Baruch said, “I thought perhaps we could start over.”

No,” Josh said, “Accept dat I will not, dad, first mom needs tuh apologize tuh my wife. Okay?”

“Far voss?” Miram said.

“Fawh what?” Josh asked, “Fawh whatcha have de chutzpah tuh ask? A ‘muslim whawh’ yuh called huh yesterday. Ya’ dig? Ovuh again we can not start until de apologizin’ yuh do fawh dat.”

“You did do that, Mimi,” Baruch agreed.

“Sorry I am for dat,” Miriam said, “My prejudices I let govern me, treat yuh like a person I did not.”

“I forgive you, Mrs. Abati,” Akilah said, “You were upset and shocked, and for that I do not blame you.”

“Mimi,” Miriam said, “Please.”

“Okay, Mimi,” Akilah said, “You can call me ‘Acky,’ everyone else here does.”

“To know I need, Josh,” Miriam said, “I love you so much, anything for your happiness with a little time I vould have accepted. Tell me about Acky, vhy did you not?”

“Tink I could not,” Josh said, “De friend in de hospital, Acky was. Okay? De love I was in. Alright? De baby, too. Ya’ dig?”

“Baby?” Miram said, “Vhat is dis schmontses about a baby?”

“I was pregnant when the train derailed,” Akilah said, “The doctors said I miscarried.”

“Who the father vas?” Miriam asked, “A pregnant girl you vere interested in?”

“You guys are so damned noisy,” Jill said, peering in the door, “Oh hello, Mr. and Mrs. Abati. By the way, you are a lot denser than you look, who do you think the father was?”

“George?” Baruch asked.

“Fawh fucks sake,” Josh cursed, “De fadder was me, mom! Okay? Who else do yuh tink it would have been, Marlon Brando, or what?”

“For the pregnancy yuh got married?” Miriam asked.

“No, mom,” Josh said, “Fawh de love, I got married, fawh de most wonderful girl in de wawhld, I got married, fawh de happiness she kindles in me, I got married. Wit’ yuh acceptin’ my wife, I wanna move fawhward, but do dat how can we when always de bad tings yuh keep suspectin’?”

“Know her I don’t,” Miriam said, “Vhat vould make yuh marry her, I don’t understand. Help me understand, Joshua.”

“Are you joking?” Jill asked, “Look at them, Mrs. Abati, just look at them. They are two peas in a pod. A more perfect pair I could not think of. How can you not see tha-”

“Jill, why don’t you come make breakfast for us?” George asked, with wet hair, and wearing a robe, “I think they need some privacy.”

George lead her away down the car.

“I’m sawhry fawh huh, a really nice girl she is,” Josh said, “But always what she is tinkin’ she says.”

“She always says what she is thinking, yes,” Akilah said, “But she seems to always think what is true. I do not actually know what Josh sees in me, I am not the most attractive girl in the world. But I know what I see in him; he is so kind, so sweet, so gentle, so loving, so handsome. So smart, too. He is a good man, Mimi, you raised him right. Ever since I met him, I have felt completed, a whole person. I hope he feels all these things, too.”

“All de tings she said,” Josh said, “And so many mawh tings.”

“Did you ever hate the state of Israel?” Mimi asked Akilah.

“Yes, I did, when I was a little girl,” Akilah said, “And then something happened that rid me of my illusions, and I grew up. Everybody is so petty and so childish, they kill and fight over a little bit of land, and a lot of violence, on both sides they do horrible things. All that I hate now is the fighting and the bickering and the death. Why do you think I left my home, my parents, my family, to come here? Away from all that ... childish nonsense.”

“It is not childish to defend your homeland!” Miriam hissed.

“What homeland, mom?” Josh said, “Poland? Germany? Syria? De United States? Do yuh mean Israel? Akilah was bawhn in Gaza, but huh parents were bawhn in Haifa, and were chased out when Israel was fawhmed. Both sides are fightin’ fawh deir homeland! Okay?”

“Brainwashed you she-”

“Miriam, shut up,” Baruch commanded, “Refusing to take sides is not a sign of brainwashing, it is a sign of thinking clearly. Can we get back to the baby, Josh got you pregnant, and you lost the baby?”

“Y-yes,” Akilah said, tears forming in her eyes as she remembered it yet again.

“My god, Akilah,” Baruch said, giving her a hug, “That must have been awful.”

“Th-thank you,” Akilah said, “Jo-Josh took it worse than me, I think.”

“Josh...” Baruch embraced his son, “I’m so sorry we are talking about this stupid hatred, instead of the things that matter. I’m so sorry you lost your child, both of you.”

“My god,” Miriam said, “Letting this get in the way of everything else, I am. The important thing is that you are happy, Joshua, tell that you are I can.”

“Thank you mom,” Josh replied, “Now over again, we can start. Mom, dad, my wife Akilah, this is. Acky, these are my parents.”

“A pleasure it is to meet you, Acky,” Miriam said, “As long as my son you make happy, along we will get.”

At that moment, Jill came in saying, “Breakfast is served.”

They all filed out to the dining room.

October 17th, 1995, 12:30 PM CT, Mile 177 Desert Wind, Galesburg, IL

The Rocky Mountains were certainly a sight to behold, but to John Caldwell, the really impressive vista was rolling through the Great Plains, a vast open expanse of absolutely nothing. He was seated in the dining car, across from a young couple who had just been married in the parents’ hometown of Ottumwa, IA, and were now returning to their apartment in Chicago. They seemed happy, and it made him think about Jill and George.

He was enjoying a hamburger, cooked fresh in the kitchen of the Superliner dining car. The conversation with the young people had been fun and interesting, but he was looking forward to getting into Chicago and connecting with the Lake Shore Limited. He had been away from Gretel for far too long for his taste. He had run out of the house in a panic in order to catch the train as it passed by his house.

He knew that the strain on George and Jill about trying to conceal their relationship really added up to a lot for them. He was hoping he could figure out a way to let them get married legally earlier than originally planned. They were ready to start their life together, and he knew that George was probably not going to make it to next semester when it came to college. It was not his dream to get all those credentials. George was a man of action, just like he was, and this academic stuff was suffocating him.

He couldn’t wait to get home so he could talk to Gretel about this.

October 17th, 1995, 1:00 PM CT, Sharon’s House, Malvern, AR

“You sold the fucking house, you bitch?” David screamed, “How could you have sold the fucking house?”

He hadn’t believed Sharon’s friend had actually bought the house from her, but he came by a little while ago showing the document that he had purchased the house and its mortgage, which had very little equity, for a transfer payment of $10,000. Sharon had put that money into a new bank account, and had, not remembered by her, put the bank book for it in the glove compartment of Chex. She didn’t remember any of this, and she had not used her usual bank for it; they could not find the account.

The friend was willing to transfer the house back for a payment of $10,000, or for monthly payments of the mortgage and $1000 a month for a year. He wasn’t very happy with the idea that David was back in Sharon’s life, but there was very little he could do about it at this point. He left telling them he would take either option with equal happiness.

“I don’t remember, David,” she whimpered, “I wish I did, but I don’t remember.”