The Voice

A familiar, disembodied voice begins to speak through the air from the cassette player in the corner of the room, commanding the attention of the future bride, her mother, father, sisters and brother. Beside her, the groom-to-be perches on the arm of the loveseat, one hand resting on the shoulder of the object of his new amour. His parents, brother and two of his sisters take up the rest of the space; the younger ones are sprawled comfortably on the carpet, expressions ranging from rapt to impish, and their elders sport masked smiles punctuated with bright eyes.

She is seventeen, this freshly affianced girl, and just nine days ago had begun falling hard and fast for this man whom she had known and admired (mostly from afar) since the age of twelve. Strange, he had never paid more than friendly attention to her before, never shown any interest beyond the platonic - until very, very recently.

Just two weeks ago she was preparing for her first university finals – French, Geology, History, Anthropology, Classical Studies – and now, she sits on the worn, blue loveseat and thinks that it matches her sister’s worn, blue diamond that now sparkles on her finger. Another hand-me-down, bought at the decline of a marriage that was doomed from the beginning, and now passed on to another hopeful young bride.

Nine days ago she arrived in this new city, propelled mysteriously by parents who counseled her to ignore the fact that finals were just a week away, to drop everything – friends, responsibilities, school – and take a trip to the big city to spend some open-ended time with the Hoaglands. In fact, she should go ahead and withdraw from her classes and just start over next semester, if she still wanted to.

Hmm.

She’s a dutiful daughter, taught not to think, so she went anyway and ignored any strong reservations about the wisdom of dropping school and just driving off to the big city for no other reason than…what? Why? Oh well. She was seventeen, and there in her hot little hands was an unexpected and parentally approved – nay, dictated – adventure. She had the rest of her life to get that degree.

There was a lot to think about on the drive north; two and a half hours of it spent alone, the last leg of the journey spent with the groom-to-be…wait a minute, how did he get there? Oh yes, he had called the day before to tell her that he would be meeting her halfway so she would not have to drive all that long way alone. She was miffed to be thought incapable of driving five hours by herself, but acquiesced under his insistence. Hold it…why was he insisting? Did he have a “thing” for her? Oh surely not. No, he’s just being nice, because he is always, first and foremost, nice. Always. Just…frustratingly nice.

He drove, they chatted and listened to music, and it was less awkward than one might think. In fact, it was a good time, and nothing really out of the ordinary, unless you consider that it was a little out of character for him to pay this much attention to her. And she was probably just imagining things when she thought he was looking at her a little more often, a little more intensely than necessary.

That night, there was family time, and a rousing game of Dictionary, and much laughter and Hoagland fun. But something was missing – aha! What we need are some Nilla wafers and eggnog, someone said, and our young bride-to-be, ever magnanimous, volunteered to go to the store. And who volunteered to act as her bodyguard on this dark, cold trek into the big city? That guy who had become increasingly attentive…oh but no. No, he would never be interested in her. But he is so courteous and kind, always chivalrous, so of course that’s why.

They laughed their way through the grocery store aisles, taking far too much time to pick out cookies and egg nog; took a detour through the park to enjoy the snowfall; parked and listened to Ravel on the classical station and talked for two hours while eating cookies and swigging eggnog from the same container. The rest would have to wait for theirs.

So began a glorious, romantic courtship, enhanced by the colorful lights of Christmas in the city, the big fat flakes of snow that padded the many walks, the hot chocolate in thermoses, the evenings spent in coffee houses making up stories about the other patrons. Scarlet poinsettias mysteriously appeared in her room; calligraphed poetry and cryptic French messages were passed under her door for daytime reading while he was at school; nights had never seemed so brief or so brilliant.

She sparkled.

Then that kiss; fumbling sweetness, first admission, the beginning of something grand. They spoke poetry to each other, and she thought nothing of the future because the present was too luscious. It was so much better than studying for finals.

And now, he sits near with a possessive hand cupped around her shoulder, face flushed. He is near to bursting with knowledge, complicit with the older, the wiser, those who should have known. Why are they playing a tape? Is this some special song?

The Voice fills the room, papal dignity and grandfatherly excitement spilling forth in deep, sonorous waves from the cassette player, pasting confusion on her face. What does He have to do with this? Oh, no.

No!

Oh yes. For the Lord has revealed to His Servant that these two are each others’ companions, and He has willed that these two dear ones should marry and move to Parker to be near His Servant and aid in His work. Further, the Lord has revealed that these two shall marry at a time two months hence. On a Thursday.

She thinks she may throw up. She thinks this is all a joke for a moment, but there is That Voice, filling every corner of the crowded room, and those faces, bright and smiling and joyous and so happy that The Servant has not only put his stamp of approval upon this union, but that He orchestrated the whole thing. She looks up at the man who perches beside her, and sees the knowledge in his eyes, reads the proud, triumphant expression in his face. She looks around the room, gaze bouncing from smug grin to knowing smile, from envious young faces to relieved older ones, and then her heart, so recently awakened, breaks.