Authors: Gabriella Murray
Matthew is there, waiting for her as the bus pulls in. He seems very relieved to see her.
"The bus was late," he says as she gets off of it. It feels to Rivkah as though he has come on a mission of sorts, from out of the centuries. And she feels helpless to push him away.
They get into his car and drive slowly back to the college.
"Did you miss me?" he asks as they drive up the winding road back to school.
The truth is, she did not.
Matthew understands. "You'll grow to care for me," he says sadly.
She looks at him and thinks for a moment that maybe he is right about everything. Maybe she will miss him someday. Maybe she will discover that something entirely different is meant by love.
"We can be married in just a few more weeks. I've been making arrangements."
She breathes out slowly in the chilly air.
"We'll get married in December, on your eighteenth birthday. Then it will be legal."
***
"Married? Why?" Rivkah's roommate Marsha is horrified. "In your freshman year? For what reason?"
Rivkah does not have the answer, and is gripped by the horror of realizing that she will marry Matthew and have no clear understanding of why. She knows she cannot stop it from happening. She does not really want this marriage, but it even seems as if these arrangements are being made all by themselves.
"You must not tell anyone," she breathes to Marsha.
"All right, I won't," Marsha promises.
"Matthew and I are going to keep our marriage a secret for as long as possible."
"Oh God," Marsha says. "Oh God. I'm sorry."
"Yes," Rivkah answers, "so am I. In a few weeks I will be married, to a man who is a complete stranger. It's an arranged marriage really."
***
Rivkah continues to attend classes as if nothing special were happening. The philosophy professor and Rivkah have become locked into an argument there is no way out of. He insists upon the same point over and over again.
"Our ability to influence events," he is saying again today, is what makes us human. That and nothing else."
If only he knew, Rivkah thinks to herself, how hollow his words really are.
"Of course," he goes on, and looks at her, "this power is beyond the ability of some. For some the will has been crushed beyond repair. These are the most pitiful of creatures."
But Rivkah is thoroughly sick of him. "Perhaps the greatest illusion of all is that we can find an answer to any of these questions through the rational mind. Perhaps there is only one way to answer your questions."
"And how is that, Rebecca?"
"Through the experience of human pain."
The students stop writing notes and turn around.
"For those destroyed in the war, at the moment of their deepest suffering, many come to feel the real presence of God."
"You always use the same examples," he declares. "And they are always off the point."
* * *
The days pass normally after that. They pass as if an enormous shadow were not approaching, as if storms weren't brewing in the hills all around. Rivkah attends classes, writes long papers and chooses Clover to be her maid of honor. Clover is both shocked and delighted.
"It will be an odd little wedding," Rivkah tells her. "Matthew is making the arrangements. Of course I must get some kind of white dress to wear."
"I'll help you find one," Clover breathes.
Matthew chooses his roommate to be his best man. There is no one else they wish to have join them.
One morning Matthew tells Rivkah that an old college friend of his, Walter, has become the minister of a small parish about twenty miles away. "He'll do it for us," Matthew says.
A church wedding? Rivkah shudders. She has never even stepped inside of a church before.
By the time the arrangements have been completed, the leaves have almost all fallen from the trees. Cold winter is approaching, early December.
So, strangers to each other, they will marry. Rivkah comes with nothing. No dowry, family blessings, no trail of young women around her wishing her well. She brings only the offerings of her soul, and her thin, little tattered book,
On Zen.
Matthew too comes with nothing. There is no one in his family that he wishes to include.
When the appropriate day comes the four of them pile into Ernie's old car and ride slowly to the small country parish, about twenty miles away. As they drive a light snow starts to fall.
"The sky looks pretty bad," Ernie offers. "There were storm warnings last night."
"Drive slowly," Matthew warns him.
"Don't worry about anything," he answers as he turns back to look at the road.
Clover sits in the front of the car besides him and stares out at the road like a lone bird from a foreign land who has come here purposely to witness this odd event.
Matthew and Rivkah sit in the back together and their bodies do not touch. As they ride, the snow grows heavier. Inside herself Rivkah is sinking. Someone help, she calls out into the shadows that are forming inside her. Stop this from happening. Give me some time. I am all alone.
But her calls go unheard and unheeded as the car proceeds along the snow covered roads. Rivkah thinks of her Moshe, and the year of judgment he is enduring now. What is happening up there? she wonders intensely, and how is it tied to this bizarre procession deep into the snow?
They arrive at the parish about an hour later, and Walter, tall and staunch looking, is waiting for them at the door.
"What weather!" he declares.
Slowly they all walk into his parish. Rivkah freezes at the edge of the door. She looks down the long, narrow aisle. It is cold, empty, and stony inside.
Why am I here? Rivkah cries to herself madly.
A small, older woman with tightly curled hair, sits up front, plays the organ and sings "Glory to the Lord," over and over. The unfamiliar sounds jar Rivkah.
Walter instructs them about the procession.
Rivkah wants to throw up. God, stop this! Help me!
But no God answers, or if he does, he is saying no. This procession must happen. Right here today. On your birthday. In the middle of the falling snow.
Matthew, Walter and Ernie walk into the parish. Rivkah and Clover are left standing outside. Clover touches Rivkah's shoulder lightly.
"I've seen odder things than this in France."
"What?"
"All kinds of things. Don't worry. There's a reason for everything, it seems."
Rivkah looks at Clover's deep, haunted eyes.
"It will be alright," Clover whispers, "eventually."
The organ music plays louder. Clover walks up to the thick church doors and pulls them apart.
"I don't want to go in," Rivkah grabs her shoulder.
"What we want doesn't seem to matter, does it?"
The piping organ calls louder and louder.
"We mustn't keep them waiting," Clover urges. "It would be too unkind."
Rivkah doesn't move an inch.
"Come on," Clover pushes harder. "Really. This is difficult for all of us."
As if in a dream then, frozen and numb, Rivkah walks with Clover down the long, narrow aisle. Rivkah's entire body is both wet and trembling. She hears and speaks the words from the wedding ceremony, as if from a different world. The words have no resonance. They are coming from a part of her she has never before known.
"I do take this man," Rivkah struggles with blinding tears that fall from her eyes.
You do destroy your own people? A voice echoes within. For what reason?
Walter speaks lifelessly, continuing the ceremony. "Do you, Matthew, take this woman?"
"I do," Matthew says with no hesitation at all as more snow falls outside.
The organ music chimes in off key.
"Then I pronounce you man and wife."
"Congratulations! Congratulations!"
Rivkah looks around. It is done.
Matthew turns slowly to her now. He reaches for her gingerly and leans over to kiss her. But although he takes her and kisses her, Rivkah is no longer anywhere to be found.
"Well done! Well done!" Walter is saying now, as the four of them turn to walk back down the aisle.
"Thank you."
"I'll get in my car," Walter goes on, "you get in yours. We’ll all drive carefully and meet for the wedding dinner at the Inn."
They are all to go to a nearby Inn for a wedding dinner and to spend the night. As they all pile into the cars the snow falls like a blanket drifting and whirling about. Rivkah sits in the back seat in her long, white dress, besides Matthew.
As he drives along the slippery road, Ernie sings a little and turns around often to look at the bride and groom.
And then suddenly, out of the white maze before them, headlights approach, and two cars crash with a roar of noise. Metal, tin, pain, screeches! A head-on collision! Rivkah sees light and then feels the car rolling. Darkness comes for a blissful moment. Rivkah feels her head whirl and then sink down.
When she awakes in the snow, nothing is changed. She is still here. And unharmed. Whole. How is this possible?
"The car was demolished," Clover is whispering to her, cradling her head in her hands. "No one was hurt. It was a miracle."
"Where am I?" Rivkah says.
"You're all right. Wake up."
"What happened?"
Now Matthew comes over with the passengers from the other car, an older man and his wife.
"What's this? A bride?" The woman's eyes are wide.
Rivkah looks up. It is blurry outside. The couple is taking all of them into their car.
"We were going to a friend's to play bridge," the woman explains never taking her eyes off Rivkah. "We'll take you there with us. Then you can make calls. Whoever would have expected this? So young? Why in the world did you two get married like this?"
They drive five miles an hour through the blinding snow to an old wooden house at the foot of a hill. A middle aged woman in a beige wool dress opens the door, stares at Rivkah and the party with her, and gasps.
"What's this? A bride in the snow? Ralph, hurry. Come here fast."
Once inside state troopers are called to take care of details.
Rivkah sits in her white dress and answers questions. All is in order, or so it seems. After names, addresses and information have been exchanged, the state troopers stare at Rivkah hard. "She's just a kid," one of them says.
The host, Ralph, a tall, florid man, breaks in swiftly. "Well, I suppose a toast is in order now! Wouldn't you say?"
For no reason at all everyone breaks into a smile and Ralph goes to his cabinet and takes out a large bottle of unkosher wine. Then he pours a glass for everyone there, putting the fullest glass in Rivkah's hand.
"To the newlyweds." He lifts his glass high.
"To the newlyweds," they all echo.
Then everyone drinks their wine. Everyone but Rivkah. Instead, when no one is looking, she goes into the small, flowered bathroom and pours her wine down the toilet, fast.
CHAPTER 16
The marriage is kept secret for approximately four weeks. Classes are over and there is a one-month vacation. Rivkah returns to her home. Matthew goes to his. They return as though nothing had happened.
But the lie grows inside her. At night it keeps her from sleeping and she awakes fitful and damp. Who is this stranger I have married? Did it really happen? What am I doing here now?
Then, one night, just before bed, Rivkah goes to her mother. "I have something to tell you," she begins haltingly.
A quick flash of alarm crosses Molly's face. "What?"
Rivkah can barely speak out. "Just promise me not to tell daddy."
"Talk louder."
"I can't."
"Why not?" Molly is sitting upright now.
"Promise me you won't tell daddy."
"How can I?"
"I need your help! Please!"
Molly looks frightened and pale.
"After all these years you need my help? "What is it? Are you pregnant?"
"I'm not."
"Something worse? What did you do?"
Beads of sweat break out all over Rivkah.
"I'm married."
The silence is sharp and fierce.
"What!"
"I couldn't help it." Rivkah starts to cry softly.
But it's too much of a shock. Molly cannot grasp it.
"It just happened. I couldn't stop it."
"Henry!!" Molly shrieks violently then.
Rivkah lurches forward. "Don't tell him! You promised!"
"Henry!!"
He comes running in.
"She's married, Henry," Molly shrieks out. "Married!"
"What? To who?" His eyes are totally non-comprehending.
Molly lets out a long, harrowing cry, and Rivkah feels as if the screams of the whole world had joined together to accuse her of unforgivable deeds.
"To who?" Henry yells his face closer to Rivkah's. Too close.
"Someone."
"Is he Jewish?"
"No."
Total dead silence. No one can believe it. Not even Rivkah. Far away in the background, she hears a door open. Her brother David has been awakened by this.
"Better you should have died inside your mother!" Henry is staring full force at Rivkah as if she were a pariah, a lepe
r
in their midst. "Get her out of here fast! Get her out of here,
Molly!"
"Where?" Molly cries out.
"Let her go with her husband. Call him up this minute. Tell him to come and get her out of my house! God will punish her for this! And plenty!"
But Molly can no longer hear Henry. She has fainted dead away on the couch.
"You can't faint now, Molly," he shakes her roughly and revives her. "Get your daughter out of here first!" He will not even look at Rivkah.
Molly rouses herself slowly and reaches for the phone.
"Who should I call?"
"First the Rabbis."