“I do not,” he said.
“Oh, yeah? Remember Katie Merkle? You became vegan for her.”
“There are serious health benefits to being vegan,” he said.
“Then why aren’t you vegan anymore? As soon as you two broke up, it was back to meat and cheese for you.”
“Well…”
“And then there was Deni Bronte. She liked athletes so you joined the track team.”
“I’ll have you know I got pretty good at running,” he said.
“But again, you gave it up as soon as you two were finished.”
“Well, this time it’s for real,” he insisted.
“And then there was Ashley—”
“OK, I get it! You made your point. But you’ll see; this is the real deal.”
“Look, it really doesn’t matter to me what religion you choose,” she said. “We raised you agnostic, so you can believe whatever you want. But you need to make sure you’re serious about this.”
His reply was absolute. Again, he said, “I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.”
“I’ve heard that before.”
He sighed. “Fine, whatever. Just tell Dad I said hi.”
13
They had now been dating for a while. On this particular night, Martin had snuck Serika into his dorm room for a little alone time. Cid worked part-time most nights and wouldn’t be back for a while.
They sat on the couch watching TV, snug in each other’s arms. Martin mindlessly flipped through channels.
“Hi, I’m James Armstrong Sinclair, optometrist. Does your vision suck? Come on down to I Have no Glasses and I Must Read.”
Click.
“Deborah, I choose you. Take this rose.”
Click.
“But I’m a vampire and you’re a werewolf. We can never be together.”
Click.
“Ugh, isn’t this that weird televangelist?” Serika said.
“And I said to God, ‘I want the life.’ And God told me I already got the life.”
“What does that even mean?” Martin said.
“I think it means to be thankful for what you have,” Serika said.
Click.
Serika rolled her eyes. “Pick something already.”
“I’m trying. I—oh! Here’s some good old-fashioned wrestling.” He stopped on a channel playing Monday Night Rumble.
“Who are these weirdos?” Serika asked.
“Well,” Martin said, “it’s been a while since I’ve watched, but I think I still remember most of them. That bi-racial gentleman is Rock ‘The Dwayne’ Johnson, and he always comes to the ring with a cup of coffee. The caffeine helps him wrestle, you see.”
“If you smellllllll…what the Dwayne…is percolating!”
“Oh, my god,” Serika laughed. “And who are those other weirdos he’s fighting?”
“That’s Degeneration-XXX, led by Triple Hate and the Heartache Kid, Sean Bicycles.”
“But why is Rock facing them by himself? That doesn’t seem fair.”
Martin explained, “It’s a handicap match. The Dwayne was challenged, and a face never backs down from a challenge.”
“A face?”
He nodded. “The good guys are called faces, and the bad guys are heels.”
She shook her head in happy disbelief. “You sure know a lot about a fake sport.”
“You’re lucky a real fan didn’t hear you say that. You’d be in a lot of trouble,” he teased.
“Ohhhh, I’m so scared. I hope I don’t get hit in the back of a head with a chair.”
He turned to face her. “You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met. That wouldn’t even phase you.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere,” she said.
The rest of the world faded out as they got lost in each other’s eyes. Slowly Martin leaned in to kiss her, and a ready Serika accepted his lips. His entire body was electrified by the exchange, the sense of acceptance palpable. He believed everyone wanted to be accepted both emotionally and physically, and now he was.
But so caught up in the heat of the moment was he, he almost didn’t hear the door knob being rocked back and forth. He sighed. “Cid’s back early.”
Cid walked in. “Hello, love birds.”
“Hi, Cid,” Serika said.
“You’re, uh… back,” Martin said, disappointed at the intrusion.
“Sorry,” Cid said. “I wasn’t feeling so hot, so I left early. But don’t worry; I have a gift for you.” He went to his DVD storage tower and removed a case before presenting it to Serika.
She cringed. “‘The Sex Files’?”
He grinned like the horndog he was. “Watch it. You’ll learn a thing or two.”
“No, thanks!” Martin said.
Cid shrugged. “Suit yourself. But don’t come crawling to me when you can’t perform.”
Martin rolled his eyes. “Noted.”
14
Martin and Serika had now been dating for a few years and were both on the verge of graduating from UCO. As far as Martin was concerned, life could only get better one way.
And tonight, he was determined to make it happen.
They had gotten season tickets for the Oklahoma Stormbringers, the state’s professional basketball team. Serika believed tonight was just another game.
She was wrong, Martin thought mischievously to himself as he sat to her right.
He watched the buzzer countdown to Half-Time. This is it. His nerves were working overtime, his nervousness palpable. How he was able to control his shaking was beyond him.
Serika turned to face him. “Is anything wrong? You’re sweating.” She had to raise her voice to be heard over the din of thousands of people all talking excitedly. It was a beehive of passion and athletics.
“N-Nothing. I’m just stressed that we’re so far behind. It sucks!” Truthfully, he didn’t really care about scores. He wasn’t some crazy sports fan.
But Serika was. “I know! Bardin needs to get the lead out. His defense has been pathetic ever since his divorce. I mean, what’s he even getting paid for?”
“Exactly.” Which one was Bardin again?
The buzzer sounded and the lagging home team sauntered off to regroup. Here we go. One of two scenarios was about to play out, one awesome or one devastating. Still, every man had to go through this eventually.
Everyone directed their attention to the twin Video-Trons which hung down from the ceiling on either end of the arena. A giant heart appeared in each of them, which rotated and sparkled before displaying the following which had cost quite a bit of money:
“Serika Evans, will you marry me?”
Serika’s hands went to her mouth and she screamed, “Oh my god!” Martin sat there frozen, wondering if she was happy. The answer would either give him eternal happiness or destroy him completely. He had never been so monumentally scared in his entire life.
He ventured, “W-Well?”
She turned to face him again, her face exploding with emotion, her eyes tearing up. She’s upset, he thought, his hopes crumbling like a building during a controlled implosion. This was the biggest mistake of my life.
But her response was the opposite of what he expected. She threw her arms around him and planted kiss after kiss on his face. “Yes! Of course! I want to be Mrs. Martin McDonnell forever and ever!”
Up until that moment, he had had an unbelievable weight upon him. With her acceptance, it immediately lifted and he could breathe again. He began laughing uncontrollably at his good luck. If he believed in God, he would begin thanking him over and over and over. Just a never-ending parade of gratitude. There would be floats and a marching band and a grand marshal.
But as he believed in no such god (no Judeo-Christian one, anyway), he just had to be content with thanking some nameless, faceless entity for his good fortune.
“I love you,” he finally said.
“I love you, too.” They had attracted the attention of those around the
m who stared at them with smiles. Some clapped. Some gave a thumbs-up. Martin just sat there soaking it all in. “We’ll be together. Itsu made mo.”
“Of course we will,” he replied, appreciating her choice of words.
Itsu made mo. Forever and ever.
* * *
When Martin told his parents about the engagement, they insisted on getting the family together to celebrate. A big dinner was planned for the following week. This included all four parents, as well as Molly.
Everyone met at Martin’s parents’ house in Guthrie. Said house was located on West Cleveland on the west side of town past the decaying viaduct the city was racing to replace by building a newer one right beside it. The house sat upon a hill and just down the street from Cotteral Elementary School where Martin had attended first grade.
Both Martin’s parents and his sister warmly embraced the bride to be. Molly was still in high school and lived at home.
“It’s so good to see you!” Diane McDonnell said to Serika in front of the front door. She was a short, stocky woman with fair hair.
“And here I thought DumDum would stay single forever,” Dean McDonnell said. Martin’s generous height came from this man, a powerfully built superintendent of Guthrie Public Schools. He had spent time in the Air Force before settling down in Guthrie, and he still sported the sharp hair cut to prove it.
Martin rolled his eyes. “Much appreciated, Dad.”
Dean laughed. “Hey, I’m just glad you’re not pretending to be a hardcore conservative for this one. I think we can all agree we had more than enough of Badger News and John Blannity. God, how many militant redneck ranchers do you need to interview before you’re satisfied?”
Diane nudged her husband in the ribs. At least she had the good sense to not bring up the past tonight. “What he means is, when are your parents coming?”
“Should be anytime now,” Serika replied.
“We’ve never met them,” Molly said. “Which of them is Japanese?”
“My mother. She immigrated to America from Ibaraki Prefecture about twenty years ago.”
“She’s uh… she’s not one of those crazy Asian women you see on TV who’s always yelling a lot, is she?” Molly had clearly forgotten to pack her tact for this trip.
“What the hell?” Martin said, his blood pressure rising. “Why would you ask such a question? That’s a st-er-e-o-type.
Serika, to her credit, laughed. “It’s OK. Refreshing, actually. I’ve never met anyone like you, Molly.”
Molly, without any shred of shame, replied, “I aim to please.”
Before long, Serika’s parents arrived. Martin made damn sure they received a warm greeting. Dean shook the hand of Wade Evans. “Nice to meet you,” Dean said.
Unlike Dean, Wade was a string-bean of a man who had long since gone bald. Lean and wiry, his body gave the impression he would gladly wriggle free from any attempt to grab him. “The pleasure’s all mine,” Wade said.
The two stared at each other with an intensity normally reserved for gladiators. Martin got the distinct impression each was trying to prove his manliness to the other.
“You two wrestle later,” Serika’s mother said with an accent she had managed to retain throughout her years of living in America. She was the typical petite Asian woman and she had her hair in a bun. Whereas Dean and her husband emitted matching auras of juvenile masculinity, her voice conveyed true dominance. No, she wasn’t yelling; she didn’t have to.
“And you must be Yoko,” Diane said. “We’ve heard so much about you.” That was a lie—she was just being nice.
Yoko gave her daughter a look that said, What did you tell them? Serika’s eyes pleaded innocence. Her mother then turned her attention back to Diane. “My daughter is our miracle. Please be kind to her.”
Diane replied, “Of course. She’s like a second daughter to us.”
They soon sat down to dinner in the kitchen at the hosts’ table. Martin and Serika sat on one side, Martin’s parents on another, Serika’s parents on another, and Molly by herself on the last side. Knowing they would be entertaining Japanese guests, the McDonnell’s had decided to serve fish. Grilled salmon, to be precised. With rice, of course. Martin wasn’t sure if that was racist or not, but Serika’s parents didn’t seem to mind. At least his family hadn’t bust out chopsticks.
“So, Yoko,” Diane said in between bites of salmon, “You’re from...Ib—iba…”
“Ibaraki,” Yoko said. “Northeast of Tokyo. Near the coast.”
“Oh,” Diane said. “What do you have there?”
Yoko shrugged. “Nice Christian university, if you like that sort of thing. More and more Japanese becoming Christians, turning their backs on Shinto. Why do that? We have a perfectly good religion, no need to change anything. Our young people are trading many gods for one god.”
“That’s… interesting,” Dean said. He had never been able to understand any religion.
Yoko continued, “Do you know Oklahoma Christian University in Edmond? They exchange with Ibaraki Christian University, send their students to us and we send to them. Why can’t we establish Oklahoma Shinto University? Wouldn’t that be a good idea?”
“You’ll get no arguments from me,” Martin said.
Serika leaned over to whisper to him, “She actually has a petition.”
Martin fought to stifle a laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Yoko said.
“N-Nothing,” Martin said.
Yoko returned to her train of thought. “Christians,” she said. “So judgmental.”
“Now, Chibi, we agreed they’re not all like that,” Wade said.
She conceded, “Not all. But too many.”
Molly then jumped in. “Serika, what are your plans for the future?”
“My plans?”
“You know. Your dreams.”
“Well, I want to be a veterinarian, of course.”
Molly grinned. “There has to be more than that. Nobody says ‘I’m going to be a vet and that’s it.’”
After some apparent deliberation, Serika said, “All right. I want to be a mother.”
“A mother?” Dean said.
Serika nodded. “All my life, I’ve looked at my own mother and seen how happy I made her. I want that happiness for myself. I want to start a family more than anything.”
“That’s beautiful,” Diane said.
“Don’t forget about me,” Wade said melodically. “She made me pretty happy as well.”
“That was merely a side-effect,” Serika joked.
“That hurts,” Wade teased.
“Now I see,” Molly said. “You won’t stop at just my brother. Your master plan is to acquire an entire nuclear family.”
“I believe I just said that.”
Everyone laughed. Martin had feared things would get awkward with this culture clash, but a good time was being had by all. Nothing could de-rail this happiness train.
* * *
The following year involved a rush of momentum. Martin and Serika graduated from UCO and they both embraced full-time employment. Martin took a job at a local company while Serika found work at a veterinary clinic. They eagerly awaited their coming together as husband and wife.
The day eventually came. In the Spring, they gathered for their nuptials. Being some six thousand miles from Japan, there weren’t any shrines in Oklahoma City, but there was a Japanese Christian church they were able to repurpose for the occasion.
Serika’s mother had wanted to have the event in Japan, but not everyone could afford to fly over there, so they settled for OKC.
In the hours leading up to the ceremony, Serika had to get ready. First there was makeup, followed by the putting on of the outfit. This particular style was known as shiromuku and consisted of several different layers of elaborate clothing.
She also wore a large white hood called a wataboshi which resembled the Sydney Opera House in Australia. Legend said this was done to ward off demons.
&n
bsp; The entire outfit was white, a symbol of purity. This style had become popular in the twentieth century as a result of Western influences.
Eventually it was time to get the show started. A flute-playing procession escorted the couple in from outside. Martin wore a black kimono, traditional for Japanese grooms.
The couple stood at the center of the room, while family members sat further back behind ground-hugging tables that had sake and fruit on them. They had managed to find a Shinto priest who stood to the right of the altar, while a shrine maiden stood to the left.
The priest purified the room. When he was done, he said, “We thank the kami for the occasion.” His English wasn’t too good, but they had little trouble understanding him. “Now we begin san-san-ku-do ceremony.”
“San” meant “three” and the name referred to the drinking of sake three times in three cups of increasing size by the bride and groom.
The first cup was given to Martin who drank from it and then offered it to Serika who drank as well. The second cup was given to her first and then to Martin. The final cup was a repeat of the first, just with a bigger cup.
The couple approached the altar. Martin took out a piece of paper on which he had recorded his vows and began to read. As the groom, this was his responsibility “Serika Evans, when I met you, my every wish came true. You are everything I’ve ever wanted. Kami-sama should just stop making women now because he has achieved perfection.”
Stared at him, her face a whirlwind of emotion. Love reflected in her eyes.
Martin continued. “It has often been said men and women can’t understand each other. That we’re too different. Well, here is my vow. In addition to loving you forever, I promise to always strive to understand you, to know your feelings, your soul. I’m going back to school forever, and my major is you. I will never love anyone but you.”
“Oh, Martin,” she said, her eyes tearing up, an impossibly broad smile upon her lips.
“And now, for the drinking of sake,” the priest said.
Behind them, their families raised their glasses as they had been taught to do before the wedding. Everyone shouted “Kanpai!” and drank.
Finally, the priest made an offering of sakaki (a sacred evergreen tree native to Eastern countries such as Japan, China and Taiwan) on the alter. This union had been blessed by spirits, and this was done in thanks to them.
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