I changed into one of those ugly hospital gowns, and was lying in bed,
watching the news when a knock came on the doorframe. "Selina? You decent?"
Babs called.
"Barbara! Come in, you can keep me company." I gestured to the TV, and said, "Thank god for CNN. Without that and the financial news, I don't know what I'd be doing now." I muted the volume.
"I'm sure that you could get into some sort of trouble," she grinned. "Where's your roomie, and why don't you have a private room?"
"They took her out for some tests. I was getting tired of soap operas." I touched the IV, and said, "This is just saline. Apparently Selina's medical plan doesn't cover a private room, as I have no official family relationship with Mr. Wayne."
"Ah, yes. Mr. Wayne. He called, and asked me to tell you he'd be down later. He also said, and I quote, 'Thank god it's not me!'" I grinned to match Babs, and she continued, "Use that bit of information however you please. I also called a few friends of yours, and informed them of the joyous news."
"Oh, really?"
"Yep." Barbara examined her nails, then extracted a nail file and started to touch them up.
"Barbara Gordon ... " I growled.
"You don't have the bass to do a really good growl anymore." Barbara commented as she did another nail.
I glared at her, then sighed, and said, "What's it worth to you?"
"One of the new Apple I-Books with a 19" screen, fully loaded. I'll get you the specs later."
I growled again, then sighed, and said, "Done. I should have known you would do this. Who'd you call?"
She wheeled to the door to check it, then closed it and extracted a scrambler from her purse. Switching it on, she laid it on the bedside table. "Well, let's see. I left a message with Sly for Oswald at the Iceberg, left messages for Pammie and Harvey, talked to Harley, who is not the airhead she seems, despite the trailer park language."
"That's true. Who else can I expect?"
"Talked to Lois, who said she'd pass it on to Clark. Messages to J'onn and Eel, Dinah said ... "
I waved her off. "Stop, stop. You've informed the ENTIRE Justice League, AND the Rogues?"
"Well, just about everyone I know who's worn spandex. Herr Kittlemeyer wishes you the best, and will be by to see you later. All part of my devious plan, y'see." Barbara gave a mad cackle.
"Dare I ask what your plan is?"
"Nope." She sat back and dug out her nail file again. "You want your kid born a bastard?"
"Does that mean you know what I'm gonna have?"
"Of course. Just three people know. Dr. Phillips, me, and Alfred." She touched up a cuticle, and said, "By now, Dick and Alfred will have the nursery renovation well under way." She looked up as several nurses came in with flowers. "I've gotta go. Talk to you later!" Taking the scrambler, she put her file back in her purse, and wheeled out.
One of the nurses said, "There's more flowers arriving for you. You must have a lot of friends!"
"And enemies," I muttered. "Look, I don't think I'll have room for all of them. Can you just leave me the cards, and, um, spread out these to others?"
A raven-haired nurse replied, "If you want, but why don't we just put them on the windowsill for now? After all, you wouldn't want to hurt anyone's feelings if they come by."
"Okay, okay. Give me the cards, though." The nurse, whose nametag read "Holly", smiled, collected the cards, and placed them on the small table next to me. I asked, "Holly, is there a priest available?"
"Um, I saw Imam Al-Said down the hall. Is he all right, or would you prefer a ... " she checked my chart, " ... Catholic priest?"
"The Imam will be fine. Would you ask him to stop by, please?"
"F'sure. You get some rest, now." I nodded, and she left.
After a few minutes, a young man with a neatly trimmed beard entered. He smiled, and said, "I am Imam Habibi Al-Said. You wished to speak to me?"
"Yes, please. One of my friends made a comment that's been bothering me. I don't want my child to be born a bastard, and I was wondering if you could marry my boyfriend and I."
"Ah. You are...?"
"Catholic, but it's been a while since I went to church."
"Is he also Catholic?" I nodded, and he said, "I do not object, all children are blessed by Allah. However, there are two things to discuss with you." I nodded again, and he said, "Firstly, there are no 'bastard children' in Islam. As is only proper, the fault lies only with the parents, and with the families."
"There are no financial concerns," I said, and winced with a contraction.
"That is good. Secondly, as the woman, you must be punished for having indulged in premarital sex."
"Why is it my fault?" I asked.
"As a woman, you are more susceptible to temptation. Never fear. I shall speak to your boyfriend, and he shall also be punished for not denying your urges. However, that is not your concern." I snorted, and he continued, "One of the central tenets of Islam is purity. You have violated this by having sex outside of marriage." I heard the door open, and the Imam continued, "The traditional punishment is one hundred strokes with a switch."
"Over my dead body." Dr. Phillips said, as he entered.
"She must be punished for her sin," the Imam replied.
"Sir, do you know what the word 'defenestration' means?" Dr. Phillips asked in what could only be considered a hostile tone.
"I am unfamiliar with the term," the Imam replied calmly.
"It means to throw someone out a window," I explained. It had certainly happened to me often enough.
"It's also what happens if you lay a hand on my patient," Dr. Phillips added.
"Is that a threat?"
"Take it however you like," Dr. Phillips replied coldly.
The two men glared at each other in a surge of testosterone. "Why not just do this without painkillers?" I suggested. "The old fashioned way."
"I will decide when to medicate you," Dr. Phillips snapped.
"That would be acceptable," the Imam added. "You must learn this lesson, my child." I nodded, and he continued, "Secondly, the marital contract must be drawn up between your future husband and your father, who will represent your interests. Is he available?"
"No. What about Sheila? She's an attorney that's a friend of mine."
He sighed. "It is not traditional, but it is allowed. Are they available?"
"My friend Barbara called them. I don't know if they've arrived yet."
"I shall inquire in the waiting room. Whom shall I ask for?"
"Barbara Gordon is the redheaded lady in the wheelchair. She'll know about Bruce or Sheila," I told him.
"Gordon?" Imam Al-Said asked.
"Barbara Gordon, who may be here with her father, Commissioner Gordon. Bruce Wayne and Sheila Hawking are the other two people."
The Imam raised his eyebrow, and excused himself.
After he had left, Dr. Phillips leaned over, and said quietly, "That confirms who I think Lady Justice is." He cleared his throat, and took my wrist to check my pulse. "How are you feeling?"
"A few twinges from contractions. Nothing much. Once I can get some peace and quiet, I'll meditate. That will take care of any pain." I said.
He glanced at me, then said, "As you wish. Would you like me to fetch another minister? I can have my pastor here in fifteen minutes. We're Methodists, but that shouldn't matter."
I shook my head, and said, "I asked the Imam."
Dr. Phillips sighed. "Whatever, it's your funeral. I'll leave you to it. Buzz the nurse if you need anything. We'll be transferring you to a private room in a bit."
"Private room? I can escape from Soap Opera Hell?"
"Hospital brass are insisting. It seems someone mentioned who the father is, and they don't want to piss off a person whose family is a major contributor to the hospital."
***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***
Holly and her colleagues bustled in with more flowers, placing the cards on the table. Bruce and Sheila followed Imam Al-Said in, who drew the curtain around the bed after they had left. He said, "Mr. Wayne, you wish to marry this young lady?"
Bruce blinked, and I gazed at him, and Sheila kicked his shin. He swallowed, and nodded.
The Imam smiled, and said, "I shall discuss with you later your punishment for not denying her carnal urges toward premarital sex. That is between you and I, as her punishment is between Ms. Kyle and myself. However, the reason we are here now is to discuss the wedding contract. In Islam, this is negotiated between the bride's father, who represents her interests, and the groom. Ms. Kyle states her father is unavailable, and wishes Ms. Hawking here to assume this duty. Is this agreeable, Ms. Hawking?"
Sheila smiled, then said, "On this happy occasion, of course it is."
"Excellent." Imam Al-Said smiled, handed both of them a card, and continued, "Please call me if you have questions. The doctor informs me that it will be several hours yet before we can expect delivery. I would suggest you confer in the cafeteria. For a hospital, they have surprisingly good tea."
***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***
I sat back, and tried to refocus for my meditation. I tapped into Bruce's vision, and he was waiting for the elevator with Sheila. She had snagged a legal pad from somewhere, and was making notes. I heard him say in Japanese, " ... don't need to include the sub-basement."
"It's yours, isn't it? That puts it on the table," she replied, also in Japanese.
"But there's certain ... items there. Very rare and ... " he stopped as other people arrived.
I looked up when the door opened to admit more visitors. Sly, Oswald, Jervis, and Edward came in, followed by Clark and Lois. Dr. Phillips came in a few minutes later, and threw all of them out. He checked me again, then asked, "Who are all those people?"
I sighed, and said, "Just about everyone Oracle knows who wears spandex. The Justice League, the Rouge's gallery, and I wouldn't be surprised if the Titans were out there too." I sighed again, and asked, "Is there anything you can do to speed things up?"
"Yep. Walking. Up and down the corridor. If you'd like, there's a small sunroom that has monitors for the waiting room cameras."
I grinned. "Sounds interesting."
***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***
I hobbled down the corridor, one hand clutching the IV tree, and trying in vain to keep decent coverage with the hospital gown. Fortunately, the only men around were doctors and hospital personnel. I stopped in the small sunroom, and watched a monitor pan across the waiting room. It was surprisingly crowded. Eel was behaving himself, barely, and Dinah was chatting with Roxy. Sly had left with Oswald, presumably to open up the Iceberg. I glanced at a clock, and resumed my back and forth treks down the corridor.
***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***
I was in a constant, low level state of backache, which meditation hadn't helped. Dr. Phillips had examined me, grunted "Six centimeters, you're doing fine." and left. Every five minutes or so, I felt a contraction. At least I wasn't subject to my former roommate's soap opera fetish anymore.
***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***
After eight hours of increasingly painful contractions, backache, constant bladder pressure, and body temperatures that swung like a yo-yo, I was ready to cut the kid out with a dull knife. At that point, Bruce and Sheila reappeared with Dr. Phillips and Imam Al-Said. They were all smiling. I glared at them.
"Ah, the beautiful bride to be! Let us proceed with the ceremony," the Imam said with a smile. Father Tim had slipped into the room, and stood watching, smiling quietly. The Imam continued, "In Islam, the marriage contract includes a meher, which is a statement of finances, and how much the groom will give the bride. The first part is known as the prompt, and will be the ring. Mr. Wayne?"
Bruce fumbled in a pocket, and passed the Imam a ring, who placed it on my finger. It was an inexpensive gold band, undoubtedly from the hospital's gift shop. I smiled, and the Imam continued, "The second part of the meher is the deferred amount. This is the bride's, to do with as she pleases. I understand you have a list?" Sheila passed the Imam several pages, which the Imam looked over, eyebrow rising. With a pen, he initialed each page, then passing them to Father Tim, who did likewise, passing them back to Imam Al-Said, who laid them on the foot of the bed.
"Most satisfactory," the Imam said. "The next part is known as the Nikah ceremony. This is a simple proposal, in which Mr. Wayne repeats the details of the meher, which has been agreed to by Ms. Kyle's wali, or representative, Ms. Hawking. For the sake of brevity, you may simply reference the agreed-upon document, Mr. Wayne. If it is agreeable to both parties, you will each repeat the word 'qabul' three times."
Bruce cleared his throat, then asked, "Selina, will you accept my proposal as specified in the meher?"
I smiled, and asked, "Bruce, I say qabul, qabul, qabul. Do you accept the proposals of my wali in the meher?"
Bruce smiled, then said, "Selina, I say qabul, qabul, qabul. I accept the proposals of your wali."
"Excellent!" the Imam passed me a small dish, and added, "It is customary for each of you to take a bite of a sweet fruit. The date is traditional." I smiled, took a bite, then passed it to Bruce, who took another, then passed it to Father Tim. The Imam said, "At this point, you are officially married under Islamic law. Many couples choose to offer vows to each other, however." He took the marriage license that Sheila passed him, then signed it. Father Tim signed as a witness, as did Sheila.
I heard a voice say, "Copy desk? I've got..." With a lunge, Sheila wrenched the door open, and Bruce grabbed a man out of the bathroom, cell phone in hand. I recognized 'Slimy' Stan Blacock of the Gotham Squealer, dressed as a janitor. The smile on Sheila's face clearly said 'Lawsuit!'
I watched through Bruce's eyes as the indignant Imam hustled the reporter out, Bruce following behind. The Imam declared in the waiting room, "This... person was invading the privacy of Mr. and Mrs. Wayne. He is a ... reporter, if you can call it that!"
"Hold on now. I'm a reporter," Lois said as she stood. She looked at the disguised janitor, and asked, "What paper?"
"The Gotham Squealer," he replied, trying to recover his dignity.
"Oh, I thought you meant a real reporter for a real newspaper. The Squealer isn't good enough to wrap fish." Lois turned and walked away.
"The Squealer once said we were the gay love slave of the Joker. We didn't like that," Harvey said, advancing on the little man.
"It claimed Harley, Pammie and I were employees of the Fifth Avenue whorehouse in our spare time," Roxy said. "Since Harley and Pammie aren't here, I'll take their place."
"Ah, the scent of fear," Jonathan Crane said. "The Squealer ridiculed my research in fear. Shall we see how 'ineffective' I can be in creating it? Hmm. What kind of fear to invoke?"
"Letters? Words?" Lois suggested, not looking up from her crossword puzzle.
"Logophobia! How apt. Thank you, my dear."
Lois nodded, not looking up from her crossword. "My pleasure."
Bruce spoke up. "Harvey? Guys? Please don't kill him."
Harvey stopped, and pulled his coin out of his pocket. He flipped it, and a thin wet mark ran down the 'reporter's' tan jumpsuit leg. He sneered at the shaking man, then sighed, and told Bruce, "He'll live. That's all I'll promise."
Roxy nodded at the floor. "Sorry about the mess. Let's take this outside, shall we, gentlemen?"
***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***
I leaned back as I sat in the birthing chair, sweaty ankles strapped into stirrups. The bladder and bowel pressure was immense, the pain was continuous, and I pushed and panted on cue. I pulled on the handgrips, which creaked in response. I glared at Bruce, who patted my shoulder, and murmured something.
"I see the head. Push, Selina, push! Come on, girl, you can do it, once more! Push!" Bruce moved behind Dr. Phillips, taping over his shoulder. I cursed, and pushed again.
"I see the shoulders! Push, Selina, push! Once more, one more big push!" With a massive push, I felt something move, and Dr. Phillips said, "Congratulations! You're the proud parents of a baby girl!" He turned away to do a quick exam and clean her, then Holly wrapped her in a blanket and gave her to me. Bruce passed Holly the camera, and then moved to join me.
"She's beautiful," Bruce murmured. "Decide on a name?"
"Helena. Helena Martha Wayne."
(Islamic wedding ceremony courtesy of theknot.com; general Islamic information courtesy of islamonline.com.)
***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---*** ## Chapter 34: Of Births and Marriage ***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***
"Barbara! Come in, you can keep me company." I gestured to the TV, and said, "Thank god for CNN. Without that and the financial news, I don't know what I'd be doing now." I muted the volume.
"I'm sure that you could get into some sort of trouble," she grinned. "Where's your roomie, and why don't you have a private room?"
"They took her out for some tests. I was getting tired of soap operas." I touched the IV, and said, "This is just saline. Apparently Selina's medical plan doesn't cover a private room, as I have no official family relationship with Mr. Wayne."
"Ah, yes. Mr. Wayne. He called, and asked me to tell you he'd be down later. He also said, and I quote, 'Thank god it's not me!'" I grinned to match Babs, and she continued, "Use that bit of information however you please. I also called a few friends of yours, and informed them of the joyous news."
"Oh, really?"
"Yep." Barbara examined her nails, then extracted a nail file and started to touch them up.
"Barbara Gordon ... " I growled.
"You don't have the bass to do a really good growl anymore." Barbara commented as she did another nail.
I glared at her, then sighed, and said, "What's it worth to you?"
"One of the new Apple I-Books with a 19" screen, fully loaded. I'll get you the specs later."
I growled again, then sighed, and said, "Done. I should have known you would do this. Who'd you call?"
She wheeled to the door to check it, then closed it and extracted a scrambler from her purse. Switching it on, she laid it on the bedside table. "Well, let's see. I left a message with Sly for Oswald at the Iceberg, left messages for Pammie and Harvey, talked to Harley, who is not the airhead she seems, despite the trailer park language."
"That's true. Who else can I expect?"
"Talked to Lois, who said she'd pass it on to Clark. Messages to J'onn and Eel, Dinah said ... "
I waved her off. "Stop, stop. You've informed the ENTIRE Justice League, AND the Rogues?"
"Well, just about everyone I know who's worn spandex. Herr Kittlemeyer wishes you the best, and will be by to see you later. All part of my devious plan, y'see." Barbara gave a mad cackle.
"Dare I ask what your plan is?"
"Nope." She sat back and dug out her nail file again. "You want your kid born a bastard?"
"Does that mean you know what I'm gonna have?"
"Of course. Just three people know. Dr. Phillips, me, and Alfred." She touched up a cuticle, and said, "By now, Dick and Alfred will have the nursery renovation well under way." She looked up as several nurses came in with flowers. "I've gotta go. Talk to you later!" Taking the scrambler, she put her file back in her purse, and wheeled out.
One of the nurses said, "There's more flowers arriving for you. You must have a lot of friends!"
"And enemies," I muttered. "Look, I don't think I'll have room for all of them. Can you just leave me the cards, and, um, spread out these to others?"
A raven-haired nurse replied, "If you want, but why don't we just put them on the windowsill for now? After all, you wouldn't want to hurt anyone's feelings if they come by."
"Okay, okay. Give me the cards, though." The nurse, whose nametag read "Holly", smiled, collected the cards, and placed them on the small table next to me. I asked, "Holly, is there a priest available?"
"Um, I saw Imam Al-Said down the hall. Is he all right, or would you prefer a ... " she checked my chart, " ... Catholic priest?"
"The Imam will be fine. Would you ask him to stop by, please?"
"F'sure. You get some rest, now." I nodded, and she left.
After a few minutes, a young man with a neatly trimmed beard entered. He smiled, and said, "I am Imam Habibi Al-Said. You wished to speak to me?"
"Yes, please. One of my friends made a comment that's been bothering me. I don't want my child to be born a bastard, and I was wondering if you could marry my boyfriend and I."
"Ah. You are...?"
"Catholic, but it's been a while since I went to church."
"Is he also Catholic?" I nodded, and he said, "I do not object, all children are blessed by Allah. However, there are two things to discuss with you." I nodded again, and he said, "Firstly, there are no 'bastard children' in Islam. As is only proper, the fault lies only with the parents, and with the families."
"There are no financial concerns," I said, and winced with a contraction.
"That is good. Secondly, as the woman, you must be punished for having indulged in premarital sex."
"Why is it my fault?" I asked.
"As a woman, you are more susceptible to temptation. Never fear. I shall speak to your boyfriend, and he shall also be punished for not denying your urges. However, that is not your concern." I snorted, and he continued, "One of the central tenets of Islam is purity. You have violated this by having sex outside of marriage." I heard the door open, and the Imam continued, "The traditional punishment is one hundred strokes with a switch."
"Over my dead body." Dr. Phillips said, as he entered.
"She must be punished for her sin," the Imam replied.
"Sir, do you know what the word 'defenestration' means?" Dr. Phillips asked in what could only be considered a hostile tone.
"I am unfamiliar with the term," the Imam replied calmly.
"It means to throw someone out a window," I explained. It had certainly happened to me often enough.
"It's also what happens if you lay a hand on my patient," Dr. Phillips added.
"Is that a threat?"
"Take it however you like," Dr. Phillips replied coldly.
The two men glared at each other in a surge of testosterone. "Why not just do this without painkillers?" I suggested. "The old fashioned way."
"I will decide when to medicate you," Dr. Phillips snapped.
"That would be acceptable," the Imam added. "You must learn this lesson, my child." I nodded, and he continued, "Secondly, the marital contract must be drawn up between your future husband and your father, who will represent your interests. Is he available?"
"No. What about Sheila? She's an attorney that's a friend of mine."
He sighed. "It is not traditional, but it is allowed. Are they available?"
"My friend Barbara called them. I don't know if they've arrived yet."
"I shall inquire in the waiting room. Whom shall I ask for?"
"Barbara Gordon is the redheaded lady in the wheelchair. She'll know about Bruce or Sheila," I told him.
"Gordon?" Imam Al-Said asked.
"Barbara Gordon, who may be here with her father, Commissioner Gordon. Bruce Wayne and Sheila Hawking are the other two people."
The Imam raised his eyebrow, and excused himself.
After he had left, Dr. Phillips leaned over, and said quietly, "That confirms who I think Lady Justice is." He cleared his throat, and took my wrist to check my pulse. "How are you feeling?"
"A few twinges from contractions. Nothing much. Once I can get some peace and quiet, I'll meditate. That will take care of any pain." I said.
He glanced at me, then said, "As you wish. Would you like me to fetch another minister? I can have my pastor here in fifteen minutes. We're Methodists, but that shouldn't matter."
I shook my head, and said, "I asked the Imam."
Dr. Phillips sighed. "Whatever, it's your funeral. I'll leave you to it. Buzz the nurse if you need anything. We'll be transferring you to a private room in a bit."
"Private room? I can escape from Soap Opera Hell?"
"Hospital brass are insisting. It seems someone mentioned who the father is, and they don't want to piss off a person whose family is a major contributor to the hospital."
***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***
Holly and her colleagues bustled in with more flowers, placing the cards on the table. Bruce and Sheila followed Imam Al-Said in, who drew the curtain around the bed after they had left. He said, "Mr. Wayne, you wish to marry this young lady?"
Bruce blinked, and I gazed at him, and Sheila kicked his shin. He swallowed, and nodded.
The Imam smiled, and said, "I shall discuss with you later your punishment for not denying her carnal urges toward premarital sex. That is between you and I, as her punishment is between Ms. Kyle and myself. However, the reason we are here now is to discuss the wedding contract. In Islam, this is negotiated between the bride's father, who represents her interests, and the groom. Ms. Kyle states her father is unavailable, and wishes Ms. Hawking here to assume this duty. Is this agreeable, Ms. Hawking?"
Sheila smiled, then said, "On this happy occasion, of course it is."
"Excellent." Imam Al-Said smiled, handed both of them a card, and continued, "Please call me if you have questions. The doctor informs me that it will be several hours yet before we can expect delivery. I would suggest you confer in the cafeteria. For a hospital, they have surprisingly good tea."
***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***
I sat back, and tried to refocus for my meditation. I tapped into Bruce's vision, and he was waiting for the elevator with Sheila. She had snagged a legal pad from somewhere, and was making notes. I heard him say in Japanese, " ... don't need to include the sub-basement."
"It's yours, isn't it? That puts it on the table," she replied, also in Japanese.
"But there's certain ... items there. Very rare and ... " he stopped as other people arrived.
I looked up when the door opened to admit more visitors. Sly, Oswald, Jervis, and Edward came in, followed by Clark and Lois. Dr. Phillips came in a few minutes later, and threw all of them out. He checked me again, then asked, "Who are all those people?"
I sighed, and said, "Just about everyone Oracle knows who wears spandex. The Justice League, the Rouge's gallery, and I wouldn't be surprised if the Titans were out there too." I sighed again, and asked, "Is there anything you can do to speed things up?"
"Yep. Walking. Up and down the corridor. If you'd like, there's a small sunroom that has monitors for the waiting room cameras."
I grinned. "Sounds interesting."
***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***
I hobbled down the corridor, one hand clutching the IV tree, and trying in vain to keep decent coverage with the hospital gown. Fortunately, the only men around were doctors and hospital personnel. I stopped in the small sunroom, and watched a monitor pan across the waiting room. It was surprisingly crowded. Eel was behaving himself, barely, and Dinah was chatting with Roxy. Sly had left with Oswald, presumably to open up the Iceberg. I glanced at a clock, and resumed my back and forth treks down the corridor.
***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***
I was in a constant, low level state of backache, which meditation hadn't helped. Dr. Phillips had examined me, grunted "Six centimeters, you're doing fine." and left. Every five minutes or so, I felt a contraction. At least I wasn't subject to my former roommate's soap opera fetish anymore.
***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***
After eight hours of increasingly painful contractions, backache, constant bladder pressure, and body temperatures that swung like a yo-yo, I was ready to cut the kid out with a dull knife. At that point, Bruce and Sheila reappeared with Dr. Phillips and Imam Al-Said. They were all smiling. I glared at them.
"Ah, the beautiful bride to be! Let us proceed with the ceremony," the Imam said with a smile. Father Tim had slipped into the room, and stood watching, smiling quietly. The Imam continued, "In Islam, the marriage contract includes a meher, which is a statement of finances, and how much the groom will give the bride. The first part is known as the prompt, and will be the ring. Mr. Wayne?"
Bruce fumbled in a pocket, and passed the Imam a ring, who placed it on my finger. It was an inexpensive gold band, undoubtedly from the hospital's gift shop. I smiled, and the Imam continued, "The second part of the meher is the deferred amount. This is the bride's, to do with as she pleases. I understand you have a list?" Sheila passed the Imam several pages, which the Imam looked over, eyebrow rising. With a pen, he initialed each page, then passing them to Father Tim, who did likewise, passing them back to Imam Al-Said, who laid them on the foot of the bed.
"Most satisfactory," the Imam said. "The next part is known as the Nikah ceremony. This is a simple proposal, in which Mr. Wayne repeats the details of the meher, which has been agreed to by Ms. Kyle's wali, or representative, Ms. Hawking. For the sake of brevity, you may simply reference the agreed-upon document, Mr. Wayne. If it is agreeable to both parties, you will each repeat the word 'qabul' three times."
Bruce cleared his throat, then asked, "Selina, will you accept my proposal as specified in the meher?"
I smiled, and asked, "Bruce, I say qabul, qabul, qabul. Do you accept the proposals of my wali in the meher?"
Bruce smiled, then said, "Selina, I say qabul, qabul, qabul. I accept the proposals of your wali."
"Excellent!" the Imam passed me a small dish, and added, "It is customary for each of you to take a bite of a sweet fruit. The date is traditional." I smiled, took a bite, then passed it to Bruce, who took another, then passed it to Father Tim. The Imam said, "At this point, you are officially married under Islamic law. Many couples choose to offer vows to each other, however." He took the marriage license that Sheila passed him, then signed it. Father Tim signed as a witness, as did Sheila.
I heard a voice say, "Copy desk? I've got..." With a lunge, Sheila wrenched the door open, and Bruce grabbed a man out of the bathroom, cell phone in hand. I recognized 'Slimy' Stan Blacock of the Gotham Squealer, dressed as a janitor. The smile on Sheila's face clearly said 'Lawsuit!'
I watched through Bruce's eyes as the indignant Imam hustled the reporter out, Bruce following behind. The Imam declared in the waiting room, "This... person was invading the privacy of Mr. and Mrs. Wayne. He is a ... reporter, if you can call it that!"
"Hold on now. I'm a reporter," Lois said as she stood. She looked at the disguised janitor, and asked, "What paper?"
"The Gotham Squealer," he replied, trying to recover his dignity.
"Oh, I thought you meant a real reporter for a real newspaper. The Squealer isn't good enough to wrap fish." Lois turned and walked away.
"The Squealer once said we were the gay love slave of the Joker. We didn't like that," Harvey said, advancing on the little man.
"It claimed Harley, Pammie and I were employees of the Fifth Avenue whorehouse in our spare time," Roxy said. "Since Harley and Pammie aren't here, I'll take their place."
"Ah, the scent of fear," Jonathan Crane said. "The Squealer ridiculed my research in fear. Shall we see how 'ineffective' I can be in creating it? Hmm. What kind of fear to invoke?"
"Letters? Words?" Lois suggested, not looking up from her crossword puzzle.
"Logophobia! How apt. Thank you, my dear."
Lois nodded, not looking up from her crossword. "My pleasure."
Bruce spoke up. "Harvey? Guys? Please don't kill him."
Harvey stopped, and pulled his coin out of his pocket. He flipped it, and a thin wet mark ran down the 'reporter's' tan jumpsuit leg. He sneered at the shaking man, then sighed, and told Bruce, "He'll live. That's all I'll promise."
Roxy nodded at the floor. "Sorry about the mess. Let's take this outside, shall we, gentlemen?"
***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***
I leaned back as I sat in the birthing chair, sweaty ankles strapped into stirrups. The bladder and bowel pressure was immense, the pain was continuous, and I pushed and panted on cue. I pulled on the handgrips, which creaked in response. I glared at Bruce, who patted my shoulder, and murmured something.
"I see the head. Push, Selina, push! Come on, girl, you can do it, once more! Push!" Bruce moved behind Dr. Phillips, taping over his shoulder. I cursed, and pushed again.
"I see the shoulders! Push, Selina, push! Once more, one more big push!" With a massive push, I felt something move, and Dr. Phillips said, "Congratulations! You're the proud parents of a baby girl!" He turned away to do a quick exam and clean her, then Holly wrapped her in a blanket and gave her to me. Bruce passed Holly the camera, and then moved to join me.
"She's beautiful," Bruce murmured. "Decide on a name?"
"Helena. Helena Martha Wayne."
(Islamic wedding ceremony courtesy of theknot.com; general Islamic information courtesy of islamonline.com.)
***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---*** ## Chapter 34: Of Births and Marriage ***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***