Princess Of Passyunk Part 37

A woman knelt there at the very bottom of the aisle in which he stood, her knees on the prie-dieu. She wore a simple black dress, her hair covered with the white coif of a novice nun.

He wavered for a moment, wanting to shout, wanting to pray, wanting to sing, wanting to cry. Instead he set The Baseball down in the carpeted aisle and gave it a push. It rolled true and silent until it met the soles of the woman's feet with a gentle b.u.mp.

She kvitched, then reached a hand around to feel behind her.

Ganny did not breathe as her fingers wrapped around the ball. He did not breathe as she picked it up, turning it as he always did, over and over in her hand. He did not breathe as she stood, pivoted and went into a wind up. She pitched it to him side-arm and he caught it, gasping for air as it stung his palm.

When he looked back at her, Svetlana the Mule-headed was standing demurely before the altar, a woman of flesh and blood. A smile hovered on her lips.

He didn't know how he crossed the distance between them; he only knew that he did. He stood before her and poured out his heart, telling her all the things that had happened to him since he had seen her last-the Singer, the Crone, his break-in at Mr. Joe's and his subsequent trip to jail, the rescued c.o.c.kroaches, his "fight" with Boris, Mr. Joe's intervention, his escape from his Da and Nikolai.

Coming here to find her.

Lastly, hands clutching The Baseball, he pleaded with her from the bottom of his heart and the depths of his soul, "Please, Lana. Please don't marry the Church. Marry me, instead."

In answer, Lana threw back her head and laughed. Her laughter soared into the highest arches and s.h.i.+mmered off the stained gla.s.s windows and bounced among the pews.

Ganady reveled in the sound, afraid it might be the last time he heard it.

When she had done laughing (at him?), she wrapped her hands around his hands and asked, "And Da's good with this?"

"He gave his blessing. I promise he did. He said, 'Find her, Ganny, and you can marry her.' He sent Boris away."

"And how did Boris take that?"

Ganny blushed, remembering the pummeling he took. "Not so good."

"And how did you find me? Following this?" She squeezed his fingers tighter around The Baseball.

"I started to, but then..." He gazed into her twilight sea-colored eyes. "Dos hartz hot mir gezogt. My heart told me."

She looked at him very solemnly and in a way that made his navigator heart lose its bearings and reel drunkenly in his breast. Still caressing his fingers with one hand, she used the other to pull the coif from her head. Her golden hair, longer now than the last time he had seen her, fell to her shoulders.

"I'm not going to marry the Church, Ganny. I was never going to marry the Church. This isn't even a real habit."

"But, then...why?"

"I thought it would put a scare into Da. So he'd bless us to marry. I guess it worked. You're here."

She blessed him with a mulish smile, then dropped the coif to the carpet and stepped into his arms.

She was solid and warm and real, and her hair smelled of nutmeg and cinnamon, which made him think of babka, which made him think of his Mama and Baba and the rest of his family, at least half of which thought him completely mad.

"Can you come meet my family now? Really meet them?"

She laughed again. "Yes. So they will no longer think you're a meshuggener."

"Even if the moon isn't full?"

"Full moon, no moon, day or night."

"And the curse is off...for good?"

"The curse is off. You broke it, Ganny-you and that Miracle Baseball-just like you broke Da's plate gla.s.s window." She pulled back a bit and gave him a saucy grin. "Home Run."

Now he knew. Mr. O was right: love was too enough. If it was really love. And G.o.d still did miracles, even in South Philly.

Or perhaps He merely allowed human beings to do magic.

Ganady didn't much care. He gripped The Baseball and Svetlana more tightly and raised his eyes to the crucifix that the first congregation of Saint Stan's had brought all the way from Poland. They had fixed it lovingly above the altar, where it seemed to float in the semi-darkness of the apse.

Ganady had no adequate words with which to offer thanks, and figured G.o.d knew this better than anyone. He sent up his prayer of grat.i.tude without them.

And it seemed to Ganady as he gazed into the Lord's face, that Jesus winked.

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