The Revelation of Joan

Chapter 11 What God Hath Joined Together

I walked down the aisle of the just-restored church. This ceremony had a double significance: not only the marriage of Kevin and me, but a sort of unofficial reopening of the church. There was an official consecrating ceremony a couple of days ago, with the bishop and all that, but this is the first time the new church became alive so to speak.

Mindful of the double significance, I had reigned in my usual impulse for weird ideas, and opted for a fairly traditional ceremony, with a few surprises packed in.

Being the bride, I was of course the last to enter. Kevin was waiting for me at the altar -- seated in the wheelchair, of course. Beside him was Luke, acting as Best Man. On the bride's side was Helen as the Matron of Honor (choosing your mother-in-law as the matron was kind of weird, but it seemed to make sense) Beside her, dressed as bridesmaids, were Joan and a girl named Grace Polk, who had been introduced to me as a close friend of the Girardi's.

I reached the altar, and Father Ken started the ceremony. Incredibly, I can only remember bits and pieces, even though it was the most wonderful day of my life. It was like Dante on his return from the heights of Heaven: he couldn't remember exactly what had happened to him, only that it was sheer bliss.

FATHER KEN: Who giveth away this bride?

The abbess from my old convent got up in the first row and proclaimed "We do!" That got a big laugh. It was a question usually omitted nowadays, but I couldn't resist the joke, and neither could the Mother Superior when I suggested it to her.

FATHER KEN: What God hath joined together, let no man put asunder

I gave a sideways look at Joan. She had always found special significance in the fact that I had met a bride whose name could be twisted into "Jehovah". Weird girl, Joan, according to most of the people I had talked to. But she was going to become my sister-in-law in a few minutes, and I would have to get used to it.

Finally we got down to the final vow, "'til death do us part."

"I now pronounce you husband and wife," said Father Ken. In a slightly different tone he announced. "Before the traditional kiss, the couple has asked for one extra ritual to be performed, to honor our friendship with the Temple. Miss Polk, will you do the honors?"

Grace handed her bouquet to Joan and fished out a wineglass from somewhere. She crossed in front of Father ken and put the glass down on a piece of cloth at my feet. Normally it would be the guy, but Kevin's disability made that awkward, and besides we were not bound to follow the entire Jewish ritual.

Having made sure beforehand that my shoe was sturdy enough for the task, I raised my foot and brought it down on the wineglass, shattering it.

"Mazel Tov!" shouted Grace.

"Mazel Tov!" echoed the congregation.

"You may now kiss the groom," Father Ken said to me. It was a reversal of the usual address to the groom, designed to cover the fact that I had more freedom of motion. I bent down slightly and kissed my husband.

The reception was delightful. The only catch was that I knew few people there, having led a rather reclusive life. Most of the guests were on the Girardi side, and the remainder were people who had worked with me on the restoration of the church and synagogue. Rabbi Polkonsky and his wife were there in a double capacity: I had met them when the synagogue and church were sharing some resources, and the Girardi's knew them as Grace's parents. I tried to forget some of the unpleasant rumors that I had heard about their marriage. The rumors might well be false and malicious.

Small gifts were opened and exchanged, but two large presents remained out of sight: a flat panel up on a stand, and a large chair, both covered by voluminous drapes. Finally I signaled Father Ken that it was time. He got up next to the stand.

"May I have your attention please? Mrs. Helen Girardi, mother of the groom, is a fine local artist, and she has donated a new painting in honor of the re-opening of the church. Allow me to present "St. Joan Rising Above the Tumult."

He drew aside the drapery and we gazed at the painting, which was really very impressive. It was basically divided into two parts. The lower half was dominated by orange flames, through which ugly figures moved. They represented Joan's executioners, but they looked rather like the orcs in LORD OF THE RINGS, and they seemed to be wandering in a hell that they had created for themselves. In the upper half, against a clear blue sky, rose the figure of Saint Joan, triumphant and serene.

Everybody got it immediately. It represented not only Saint Joan herself, victorious even in defeat, but also the church and synagogue reviving from seemingly devastating attacks.

The Mother Superior joined me. "It's beautiful. But who is the girl? Was there a live model for her?"

"That was Helen's daughter, Joan. I can introduce you." I scanned the group. "That's odd. I don't see her now."

Father Ken slipped up beside us. He said in a low voice. "I saw her go out with a cute boy a few minutes ago, and decided not to call attention. They can't get in that much trouble in a church, and besides, they haven't taken the vows that we have."

We laughed at that. Then Chief Girardi's voice boomed out. "Now, may I have people's attention again? My younger son has a special gift for his brother, and we would like to unveil it now." He pulled aside the drapery.

It was another wheelchair.

"I've been working on it for weeks," said Luke, "giving it a lot of mobility that an ordinary chair doesn't have. User-friendly controls, the ability to rise or sink by a foot, extra balancing mechanism."

"Actually," called out Kevin. "He let me in the secret beforehand, so I could practice with it and be ready to try it out at the wedding. I'll put it through its paces now."

Luke and his father helped Kevin switched chairs, while I looked in surprise. I hadn't been in on the secret. Then they got out of the way, and Kevin began doing stunts with it -- rapid forward and backward movement, spinning in circles, and whatnot. I watched with some dismay. Kevin was thrilled, but he seemed to me to be acting like a boy with a new car or gizmo to play with, a guy thing. Not exactly what I had expected at my wedding reception.

Kevin noticed me expression and directed his chair toward me. "Care for a drive, my dear wife?"

"Um, there's nowhere for me to sit."

"Nonsense, here's my lap. Have a go."

I sat down on Kevin's lap, feeling rather awkward, and he started the acrobatics again. At first I feared my weight would tilt the whole thing forward, but Luke's "balancing mechanism" seemed to be working perfectly. Then as he spun in circles, I started to get into the spirit of the thing. This was cool, awesome, almost like surfing. And who cared if I looked undignified whirling around in a wedding dress. Today was supposed to be fun.

Then Kevin stopped the chair suddenly, and I could hear him sobbing slightly. I turned as much as my position would permit. "What's wrong?"

"Just remembered -- a couple of years ago -- some fortune teller predicted that I'd 'dance at my wedding'. And I just did!"

(to be continued)