Chasing the Wind

by Norma Beishir

  “I thought I did when I married him. Then one morning I woke up and realized it was just a bad joke,” I admitted.

  “You waited fifteen years to remarry,” he pointed out.

  “It wasn't because no one's ever measured up to him,” I said. “Darcy's the kind of man who makes a woman swear off marriage. If they're with him long enough, he can make them swear off love.”

  A recent explosion had sucked the life out of the air. The smell of burning flesh was all around us. The sounds of gunfire and sirens were suddenly everywhere. Connor shook his head. “This is what is done in the name of God,” he said with disdain. “They fight for what does not exist.”

  “They fight for what they believe in, for the right to follow their beliefs,” I told him. I loved Jerusalem, in spite of the danger, in spite of the battles raging there on a daily basis.

  I had always loved walking along the streets at dusk, admiring the lavender and ruby colors of the evening sky. Sometimes the clouds look like mother of pearl. It's said that God cast the first light upon the world in Jerusalem. I've often imagined that moment and wondered if it were true.

  “Must be nice for those for whom it’s the last thing they see,” Connor said, keeping one arm around me in a protective gesture. I've always been independent, and I like to believe strong as well, but I loved his protectiveness.

  “When Tim and I had our dig in Megiddo, I’d come here on the Friday before Christmas, the last Friday of Hanukkah, to watch the monks’ procession down the Via Dolorosa and the lighting of the traditional six candles at the Western Wall.”

  I marveled at the eerie golden gleam of the sunlight on the Dome of the Rock, wanting to share it with the man I was about to marry. “This is a sacred site for three faiths,” I told him. “Jesus prayed here. Mohammed ascended to Heaven here. Solomon built the Temple here. Abraham came here to sacrifice Isaac. Legend has it God issued the first light upon the earth here, on the Rock.”

  “And now they all kill to claim it. They each preach peace, and then they kill in the name of God,” he said. “Hypocrites, all of them.”

  “Where’d you get all that faith and trust?” I asked.

  He didn’t smile. “It’s my inheritance.”

  Whenever I had to come to Jerusalem in the past, no matter how tense the ongoing battles around me might be, I looked forward to visiting the places I imagined Christ himself visiting. I had once retraced His footsteps. It made me feel closer to God somehow. I wished my father could understand….

  “The Apocrypha?” He looked as though he were on the verge of a massive stroke. “Those books were banned from the Bible because they’re blasphemous!”

  “How do we know God didn’t intend them to be a part of the Bible?” I questioned him.

  “How do we know? These books suggest things that God would never have allowed!” he roared. “They claim Jesus had a carnal relationship with a woman! They claim he killed a man who argued with Joseph! They claim he killed another child when he was young and then brought him back to life! That’s blasphemy!”

  “He was wholly man and wholly God, wasn’t he?” I asked, refusing to back down.

  “Yes, of course, but—”

  “If he was wholly man, then he would have lived as a man,” I reasoned. “Dad, I didn’t say I believed all of it. I said the early church had no right to censor such documents.”

  “They had every right!”

  “It doesn’t matter if Jesus was biologically God’s son or Joseph’s,” I argued. “He was still the Son of God, indwelt with God’s spirit. His power came from God, not from the human flesh. He was supposed to live on earth as a man.”

  “A sinless man!”

  “However he lived on earth, he was the Messiah. He gave his life for us. That’s the bottom line.”

  “Lynne?”

  The sound of Connor’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “Are you all right?” he asked.

  I nodded. “Just thinking.”

  My father hadn't understood. He didn’t understand that my faith was unconditional, no matter what had been written. I was simply curious. The more he’d tried to censor me, the more I'd rebelled.

  Looking back, I suspected that was one of the reasons I’d had the affair with David. Older and wiser now, I wondered if I would have been as vulnerable to him if I had not been at odds with Dad. David was the antithesis of my father: bold, daring, unconventional, a true adventurer. He told me I was beautiful. He made me feel beautiful. And he taught me to take risks.

  Then he betrayed my trust.

  I had never been able to tell my parents what had happened. I couldn’t handle the judgment I expected from them. Nor had I been able to face them immediately after the divorce from Darcy. I knew my entire family saw the failure of my marriage as my fault, my failure. I was too difficult, they would say. Too headstrong. I wasn’t willing to do whatever was necessary to keep my marriage going.

  I hadn't told them about Connor yet. I hadn’t told them I was getting married again, much as I wanted to. As much as I would have liked to marry the love of my life in the church where I’d grown up, I hadn't been able to bring myself to even tell them about him. Not yet.

  “Where is this church?” Connor asked.

  “It’s not far. Near Gethsemane.”

  He nodded.

  “Getting married at the embassy just wouldn’t be the same,” I told him.

  “That’s why I suggested we get married here,” he said. “I know you wanted to be married in your family’s church, but since we can’t go to the US, this might be the next best thing.”

  “Calvary isn’t far from here,” I said, leaning closer to him. “Jesus was crucified there, hung between two thieves—one, even in death, sought the approval of the crowd by rejecting him, mocking him. The other humbled himself before God and was promised Paradise. The Crucifixion always made me think of the concept of the whipping boy, of the animal sacrifices nonbelievers thought so cruel. Watching someone else punished for your sins was supposed to make you realize how terrible sin really was.

  “The problem was that not everyone got the message.”

  “We tend to not see what the mirror is telling us if it’s unpleasant,” Connor said.

  “The first dig I worked on wasn’t far from here,” I told him. “It was near Hebron, the epicenter of the Israeli-Muslim conflict. The road south from Jerusalem to Beer-Sheba had been nicknamed ‘Blood Road’ because it was a main target of both Israeli and Palestinian snipers, who bore down on the road from rival hills. I had more than one close call on that road myself.

  “There’s the church,” I said, pointing. It was small, simple and serene, near Gethsemane. “I’ve always loved old churches. As a child, my father’s church was my private sanctuary, a place to go whenever something was bothering me. I’d would sit alone in one of the pews and talk to God, and even if I didn’t get an immediate answer, I always took comfort in the conversation.”

  We entered the small church and noticed a few worshippers scattered about as we made our way up the aisle and found the pastor. “May I be of assistance?” he asked.

  “I hope so,” I said. “My fiancé and I want to be married as soon as possible. We’re far from home—Connor is from Scotland and I’m American. I want very much to be married in a Christian church.”

  “I see.” He studied Connor for a moment. “Do you have the necessary documents?”

  “Yes,” Connor said confidently.

  “Would you like to be married this evening?”

  I was relieved. “That would be perfect.”

  I picked up the phone three times and put it down again before finally making the call. I had mixed feelings about what I was about to do, but I hadn’t been able to find anyone else on such short notice. “Phillip Darcy’s room, please,” I told the front desk clerk.

  “One moment.”

  I reconsidered for the fifth time and started to hang up as the call was transferred. I knew this wasn’t a go
od idea, but I didn’t have time to find someone else. Connor and I were getting married in a matter of hours.

  “Darcy. Talk,” said the familiar voice on the other end of the line.

  “Darcy, it’s Lynne,” I said. “Look—I need a favor.”

  There was a momentary silence on the other end. “From me?” he asked, surprised.

  “Connor and I are getting married this evening,” I began. “It’s last minute, I know, but I want you to take some photos for us.”

  “You couldn’t get anyone else,” he guessed.

  “What do you think?”

  “Duchess, I’m no wedding photographer,” he reminded me.

  “You were no husband, either, but we were still married for two years,” I fired back at him. “I want photos of my wedding tonight.”

  “Lynne—”

  “You owe me, Darcy,” I repeated.

  “Yeah, I guess I do, don’t I?” he said. “You’re the only one of my ex-wives who didn’t want alimony. Where and when?”

  I gave him the time and address of the church. “Don’t disappoint me, Darcy.”

  “Like that’s ever happened before,” he said. “You know, we didn’t have any photos of our wedding.”

  “If we had, I would have burned them.”

  31

  Darcy

  “You’re going to do what?” Charlie asked, unable to refrain from laughing.

  “She asked me to take some wedding photos for her. And she’s right. I do owe her,” I said. “I was a half-assed husband to her. Hell, I was a half-assed husband to all three of my wives—and every other woman I’ve ever known.”

  “How does her husband-to-be feel about it?” Charlie reached for a pastry, but I snatched it from him.

  “That shit’s gonna kill you,” I warned.

  “I take my insulin religiously,” Charlie maintained.

  “And then you proceed to eat everything that’s not nailed down or on fire,” I reminded him. “You’re defeating the purpose of the insulin. You’re diabetic, remember?”

  “How could I forget?” Charlie changed the subject. “Doesn’t her fiancé object to the ex being at the wedding?”

  I shrugged. “No idea. But I can’t imagine she’d even ask me without his blessing.”

  I was wrong…

  32

  Connor

  “What are you doing here?” I asked when I saw Darcy come into the sanctuary. I couldn't believe Lynne had invited him and didn’t hide my displeasure at the idea of my new wife’s ex-husband being at our wedding.

  “Duchess—Lynne—asked me to be your official wedding photographer,” Darcy said.

  I shook my head. “No photographs,” I said.

  “You tell her that,” Darcy advised. “She bullied me into this. She wants photographs, and I’m not about to tell her no.”

  I was frustrated, but backed down. “Very well,” I conceded, making it clear to him that I hated the idea.

  Darcy was watching me, grinning. “You’ve never seen the Duchess lose her temper, have you?” he asked. “Be forewarned. It’s measured on the Richter Scale.”

  “Perhaps you deserved it,” I suggested.

  “Yeah. I take it she’s told you about us.” He opened his camera bag and readied his equipment.

  “She told me you saw her as little more than a concubine,” I said.

  Darcy nodded. “I guess I have that coming. I wasn’t Husband of the Year, I’ll admit that.”

  “I suppose I should thank you for that,” I said, turning to face him. “Because of you, she was reluctant to even allow another man into her life. Otherwise, she might not have been free when I met her.”

  “Glad I could be of assistance,” Darcy said with sarcasm.

  “Mr. Mackenzie?” The pastor emerged from his office and gestured to me to join him at the altar.

  I took my place there as Lynne emerged from the bridal chamber. She wore a white silk dress, a simple halter design, with her silver crucifix resting on her collarbone, and a single Stargazer lily pinned in her long hair. As she joined me, I whispered, “You are beautiful, you know.”

  She smiled, her lips trembling a little. “You clean up pretty good yourself, Mr. Mackenzie.” I wore a dark blue suit and silk tie.

  “Do you have the rings?” the pastor asked.

  Lynne’s eyes widened. “We forgot—”

  “I didn’t,” I said softly. I took the rings from my pocket and gave them to the pastor, who said a brief prayer over them, then gave us each other’s ring. Lynne looked at the ring in her hand. Platinum, with an infinity symbol engraved on it. On the inside of the band were the words Forever…no beginning, no end.

  “Where did you get them?” she asked in a low voice.

  I winked. “I’m a wizard, remember?” I’d bought them when I first asked her to marry me.

  The pastor began the simple ceremony. He talked about the bond between man and woman, between man and God, and read passages from Scripture.

  I looked at Lynne, overwhelmed by the unexpected intensity of my love for this woman. The pastor then read from the Song of Solomon: “Love is invincible facing danger and death. Passion laughs at the terrors of hell. The fire of love stops at nothing, it sweeps everything before it. Floodwaters can’t drown love, torrents of rain can’t put it out. Love can’t be bought and can’t be sold. It’s not to be found in the marketplace….”

  To my surprise, I was moved by the beauty of the ceremony and marveled at how happy I was now, happy to be bound to this woman for the rest of my life. The passages read by the pastor had been so unexpectedly appropriate to what I was feeling, so right for us.

  If the secrets of my past didn’t end up tearing us apart…

  33

  Darcy

  I stared at the envelope containing the finished photographs, perplexed. It wasn't possible. I'd heard of this sort of thing before, but I'd always thought they were frauds.

  “This is beyond weird,” I told Charlie. “Ever seen those aura photographs from the psychic fairs?”

  “Yeah.” Charlie lit a cigarette. “What about them?”

  “These are the photos I did at Duchess’ wedding last night.” I held up the envelope.

  Charlie took a long drag. “You work fast.”

  “They’re going back to Egypt today. I promised her I’d drop them at their hotel.” I opened the envelope and passed a photo to him. “Take a look at this.”

  Charlie looked at the large photograph for a moment. It was Connor alone, standing by a window in the church, bathed in light. Behind him was what appeared to be a ghost figure, a woman in white who was definitely not his new wife. “Interesting effect,” Charlie noted.

  “I don’t know where that light was coming from, Charlie,” I said. “It was taken after sunset.”

  Charlie shrugged. “You really need to get digital cameras, pal.”

  “Look at this. Behind him. What do you make of this?”

  “Film flaw,” Charlie decided.

  “That’s what I thought. At first.” I handed him another photograph. Connor and Lynne, standing at the altar. This time, the ghostly image stood beside them. “The lighting, maybe?” Charlie suggested.

  “I don’t think so. These images don’t appear to be random, and if you examine them with a magnifier, they look like human beings,” I told him, showing him the rest of the photos.

  “Except that they’re transparent,” Charlie said. “That’s crazy, Darcy. Tell Ally this shit and she’ll ship you off to the Rubber Ramada so fast you won’t know what hit you.”

  “It won’t work,” Charlie protested.

  “Sure it will,” I insisted. “Just tell her you want to do a story for the magazine—you want to see how they work, get some background, maybe some details about the latest find—”

  “And pictures,” Charlie concluded.

  “They made a major find there. It’s newsworthy,” I maintained. “You owe me this, pal.”

  Charlie
rocked back in his chair. “We’ve been through so much together, I’ve lost track of who owes who,” he said. “You might owe me, actually.”

  “Charlie—”

  “Ally isn’t going to go for this, you know.”

  “I’ll handle Ally,” I assured him.

  Charlie laughed. “Right. Like you always do, I’m sure.”

  “Out of the question,” Ally insisted when I phoned her. “I need both you and Charlie elsewhere. It’s just not a big enough story.”

  I wasn’t giving up. “It could be a big story, Ally—a good story,” I pushed her. “They found an old scroll, a couple of thousand years old, supposedly something important. Could be right up there with the Dead Sea Scrolls.”

  “Supposedly important? Is it or isn’t it?” she asked impatiently. “Do you even understand the work they’re doing?”

  “I was married to the lady, Ally. Of course I know what she does for a living,” I insisted.

  “Look Darcy, I’m not about to let you use this magazine to further your latest amorous cause. You’re divorced. Get over it.”

  “You think I want to do this because I’m jealous?”

  “If it walks like a duck and talks like a duck, you can bet you’re about to step in a pile of duck crap,” Ally maintained.

  “It’s got nothing to do with jealousy, Ally. That ship sailed a long time ago.”

  “And sank,” she reminded me.

  “Yeah, like the Titanic.” I hesitated. “Look, I’m going to tell you something that’s going to sound a little crazy.”

  “No more so than some of the other crap you’ve told me over the years, I’m sure.”

  “She asked me to take some wedding photos,” I started. “The pictures are, well, bizarre.” I tried to explain the photographs to her.

  “Well, Darcy, it was bound to happen. You’ve finally lost those last threads of sanity you’ve been clinging to for the past ten years,” she responded. “You really do need that vacation, don’t you?”