Chapter 52: Don’t Let It Happen Again!

October 19, 1985, Salem, Massachusetts

We checked into the Hawthorne Inn in Salem just after 1:00pm. Our flight had been slightly delayed, and traffic leaving Logan Airport had been heavy. The temperature was in the low sixties, and it was cloudy, but at least it wasn’t raining.

“Let’s take a walk around town,” I said. “After three hours on the plane and the drive here, I need some exercise.”

“Would you consider an alternative?” Elizaveta asked with a smirk, allowing her skirt to slip from her hips.

“I could use the fresh air, too,” I replied.

My young wife screwed up her face and put her hands on her hips.

“You’d rather go for a walk than go to bed?”

“Hmm,” I replied, teasing. “A difficult choice.”

Elizaveta didn’t respond except by allowing her blouse, which she’d unbuttoned, to slip from her shoulders, leaving her standing in front of me in sexy black lace panties and bra.

“And now?” she asked, hands back on her hips.

“THAT is your argument?” I teased.

“Michael Loucks, if you don’t pick me up, carry me to bed, and fuck me, you aren’t going to live to see my brother’s wedding!”

“Kitty has claws,” I smirked.

She did, actually, and there had been a few occasions when her fingernails had left light scratches on my back.

“Husband...” she warned.

“Fine,” I said, sighing theatrically. “I shall fulfill my duties as husband.”

“Are you saying you don’t like having sex with me?”

“Why no, Kitten, of course not,” I said flatly, still not moving.

“Miiiiike” she whined.

I didn’t move, and seconds later I learned the error of my ways when Elizaveta unzipped her suitcase and extracted her flogger. She tapped her hand with it several times and I obediently removed my cassock, shorts, t-shirt, socks, and briefs, and got into bed.

“Is it too late to apologize?” I asked.

“No,” she giggled. “But it is too late to escape punishment!”

The swats hurt, but the pleasure of two hours of non-stop, energetic sex certainly made up for it.

“NOW can we take a walk?” I asked as I got out of bed.

Elizaveta huffed, “Are you going to be difficult the entire weekend?”

“I could, if that’s what you want,” I teased.

“Husband...” she warned.

“I love you, Kitten. You know I’m just messing with you.”

“But why?”

“Because I can?” I suggested with a silly smile, but then held out my hand, “Let’s shower and take a walk.”

Elizaveta got out of bed and we went to the bathroom and showered together, then dried off and dressed. Once we were dressed, we left the room for our walk, and decided to walk to the church. The walk, part of which was through the Salem commons, took about ten minutes just as Geno had suggested. The church was beautiful, with blue onion domes, topped by three-bar crosses. The doors were unlocked, so we went inside.

“Father Deacon, welcome!” a man in his fifties said as we entered the narthex.

“Good afternoon. I’m Father Deacon Michael and this is Matushka Elizaveta.”

“It’s nice to meet you both. I’m Paul Vikrov, the Warden. Father James isn’t here at the moment.”

“That’s OK,” I replied. “We were out for a walk and decided to come to see the church.”

“Father James is expecting you. I can call him, if you like.”

“No, that’s OK. We’ll just pray, and then continue our walk. We’ll be back about 5:30pm for Vespers.

“If you need anything, please let me know.”

“Thank you,” I replied.

Elizaveta and I went into the nave and Paul returned to whatever task he’d been working on when we’d arrived. The nave was beautiful, with hardwood floors, and a white icon screen. We prayed the usual entry prayer for laity, rather than the longer entry prayers for clergy used before services, and then prayed the Trisagion prayer. When we finished, we left the church and walked back toward Salem Commons. We walked through the Commons, past the hotel, and to the waterfront. We walked along a long pier to the Derby Wharf Light Station, then back to the hotel. We had a meal in the hotel dining room, then left for the church so I could meet Father James before the evening service.

When we entered the church we were greeted by Paul, who directed us to Father James’ office.

“Good afternoon,” I said. “I’m Deacon Michael. Father, bless!”

He stood up and replied, “The Lord’s blessings on you, Father Deacon Michael!”

I kissed his hand, and we exchanged the usual clergy greeting of kisses on the cheek.

“This is Matushka Elizaveta,” I said.

“Father, bless!” she requested.

“The Lord’s blessings on you, Matushka Elizaveta!”

She kissed his hand.

“Welcome, both of you! Did you have any difficulties in your travel?”

“Just a minor delay for our flight and what our driver told us was the usual traffic coming out of Logan.”

“It’s a nightmare! The city of Boston has a planning project underway with a goal of resolving it, but it’s years away from even starting, let alone being completed. Matushka, my wife, Naomi, is in the nursery which is just down the hall to the left.”

“Thank you, Father,” Elizaveta replied and left the office.

“Shall we vest?” Father James suggested.

We left the office and I followed him into the nave where we said our entry prayers, and then went into the vestry.

“I’m not used to serving with a deacon, so you might have to help me,” Father James said mirthfully as we put on our vestments.

“I’m pretty new at this myself,” I replied. “Well, at least serving as a deacon. I started as an acolyte when I was seven.”

“I came into the church in my mid-twenties. I was a Methodist pastor, just called to a church in Pennsylvania, when I met an Orthodox priest. A year later, I registered at Vladimir’s, and my wife, who’s a nurse, supported us while I completed my studies. Gennady tells me that you’re training to be a doctor.”

“I’m in my first year of medical school, so there’s a long way to go. Four years of medical school and then three to seven years of Residency, depending on what route I take.”

“He said you wanted to work in the ER.”

I nodded, “Yes. The training is still developing because the concept of a trauma center is fairly new, with the first one opening in Chicago just under twenty years ago. It’s only in the past ten years that emergency medicine has become a specialty, instead of having doctors of other disciplines staffing it. The hospital in McKinley where I’ve been observing routinely calls specialists in for certain kinds of trauma. The goal is to make that rare, but it’s going to take years to train new physicians. Where does your wife work?”

“In a cardiology practice. I understand your wife is still in High School?”

I nodded, “She learned that Vladyka ARKADY desired to ordain me and presented herself as a candidate, and ensured I understood she was the best young woman in the diocese suited for the role.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask, but was there competition?”

“All the young women were positive I was going to marry Natalya Vasilyevna Antonova, the daughter of Father Deacon Vasily Antonov. She and I had dated from the time she turned sixteen, but in the end, she decided she didn’t want to be the wife of a clergyman and didn’t want to wait to have a family until I graduated from medical school. After Tasha and I had talked things out, I met a Russian Orthodox girl named Lara from Pittsburgh, but in the end, she didn’t want to live under the microscope that clergy live under. That left the playing field clear for Matushka Elizaveta. I didn’t stand a chance!”

Father James laughed, “We men usually don’t if the women have their minds made up!”

“So it would appear that it affects converts, too?”

“So it would seem!”

Vespers, no matter where it was celebrated, followed the same pattern, with the same prayers and hymns, both fixed and movable. An hour later my in-laws, Geno, Anna, Joe, Elizaveta’s grandparents, Anna’s parents and grandparents, her sister Sarah, and Father James and Matushka Naomi walked to a restaurant for coffee and drinks.

“We’re going to miss you after tomorrow, Anna,” Father James said. “Your singing in the choir, especially at Pascha, has been sublime!”

“And we’ll be happy to have her in our choir,” Elizaveta replied. “And I’ll be very happy to have a sister!”

“You know you love us, little sis!” Joe declared.

“You have a funny way of showing it!” Elizaveta declared.

“I’m pretty sure that’s common between brothers and sisters,” I said. “My sister Liz and I were like that.”

“And after tomorrow, Anna will be my sister and Geno will be her husband!” Elizaveta declared triumphantly.

“I’m not sure I’d celebrate too much, Kitten,” I chuckled. “It’s the OTHER brother who’s the problem!”

“And THIS brother has NO interest in marrying anytime soon!” Joe declared. “UCLA is way too much fun!”

“Joe!” his maternal grandmother exclaimed in reproof.

It was all I could do to keep from bursting out laughing when he rolled his eyes at her like a pre-teen. I was positive that as much ‘fun’ as I’d had at Taft, California was very likely an order of magnitude more ‘fun’, and Viktor had certainly made it clear that Joe was majoring in coeds and beer.

“Iosif, please remember where you are,” Viktor said gently.

Joe nodded, but I didn’t feel he agreed in any way, shape, or form, nor did he have any interest in being with clergy. On the other hand, it was quite clear he was very interested in Sarah, who was sixteen. That was a surefire way to create family tension if there ever was one. And careful observation indicated she was interested in him, which wasn’t much of a surprise because he was ruggedly good-looking and in good shape.

“Father Deacon, I understand you’re a medical student,” Ivan Gryaznov, Anna’s father, said.

“Yes, I am,” I replied. “I’m just in my first year, so it’s mostly lectures and studying. I have one short observation period each week where I tag along with a doctor in the emergency room to see how she does her job.”

“When do you start treating patients? After graduation?”

“Actually during my third and fourth years I’ll be permitted to do basic exams under direct observation of a doctor, as well as some very simple procedures like stitches or inserting IV needles, but again, only under direct observation.”

“When can you do things on your own?”

“In about ten years when I become an Attending physician. Once I graduate, I can do things I’ve learned with supervision - checking with my supervisor first, but not being watched. That doctor has to sign off on anything I do, including any treatment, or to discharge or admit a patient. The doctor I’m assigned to, Doctor Gibbs, is a second-year Resident and she has an Attending physician sign off on everything, though she mostly works without being observed.”

“Where do you want to work?” Sarah asked.

“In the emergency room,” I replied.

“Is there a lot of blood?”

I smiled, “I think it’s better if we don’t discuss specifics; everyone might lose their appetite!”

“Did something bad happen, Mike?” my father-in-law asked.

“Seriously, ask later.”

“He’s right, Papa,” Elizaveta said. “You don’t want to hear this while we’re having pie and coffee!”

“How much do you have to study?” Ivan asked.

“Constantly. Our study group, which includes three students who I studied with while I worked on my undergrad degree at Taft, plus two others we met at medical school, meets every day except Friday, for at least four hours.”

“Wow!” Sarah gasped. “Matushka, when do you get to see your husband?”

“Breakfast every day but Monday, because he meets his study group for breakfast that day, and every day for dinner. We blocked out the time and he worked it out with his study group. We also have a date night on Thursday, and on Friday we spend time with our friends.”

“It seems you have it down to a science,” Father James said.

“Deacon made sure I understood the situation before we became betrothed, so I was ready for it. During the day, of course, I’m in school just like he is. I don’t have to study as much, so I do other things like sewing or spending time with my friends or use my new computer. And, of course, we go to church together.”

“If I understand how it works from Matushka Naomi, that’s going to be a challenge when you graduate,” Father James said.

“Which is something I discussed with Vladyka ARKADY. Things will be tough for the first year or two of Residency, and then I’ll do my best to arrange my schedule around services, especially Holy Week.”

“When do you sleep?” Sarah asked.

“I get about five-and-a-half hours a night,” I replied. “For me, that’s enough.”

“Wow!” Father James exclaimed. “I don’t think I could function!”

“Given that I’ll have to do thirty-six-hour shifts with potentially no sleep, it’s a good thing that I don’t need much sleep.”

“You’re joking!” Anna’s grandfather, Yakov, exclaimed.

“He’s not,” Matushka Naomi confirmed. “When I was doing my practical training I was in the hospital and new Residents are assigned thirty-six-hour shifts and it’s possible they never get to sleep.”

“That sounds dangerous!” Yakov declared.

“Maybe so,” I agreed. “But as Walter Cronkite used to say, that’s the way it is.”

He shook his head in disbelief. We finished our pie and coffee, then bade everyone ‘good night’. Elizaveta and I received Father James’ blessing, then left to make our way back to the hotel.

“Husband?”

“Yes, Kitten?”

“Walk faster!”

October 20, 1985, Salem, Massachusetts

On Sunday morning Elizaveta and I arrived at church about an hour before Matins so that I could say the entry prayers with Father James, as well as perform the Proskomide. Normally he would have had assistance from an acolyte, but my presence changed the procedures slightly, as the service became responsorial between the deacon and the priest. The acolyte, Stefan, went about his business setting up while Father James and I completed the Proskomide. When we finished, Father James pulled out a copy of the Liturgikon, and we reviewed the service, as he hadn’t served with a deacon in more than two years.

Matins and the Divine Liturgy proceeded as normal, with Father James and I each performing our proper liturgical duties, which, at the end of the service, meant consuming the remaining Eucharist from the chalice, and ensuring that no particles remained by then carefully swirling water in the chalice. Once I was sure it was free from any remnants of the Eucharist, I placed it on the Altar of Prothesis and covered it with a veil. I next ensured the diskos, which had held the bread used for the Eucharist was clean of any particles, then set the ‘star’, which supported the veil and prevented it from touching the bread, on it. I covered the star with a veil, and then covered both the chalice and diskos with the aer, a large veil used to cover both of them.

Once I’d finished, I joined the rest of the congregation in the church hall for a light lunch, and then Elizaveta and I walked back to the hotel to rest for an hour. When we left our room, we took our things with us, checked out, and left our two small bags with the concierge before returning to the church for Geno and Anna’s betrothal and crowning. As was the case for every Orthodox wedding ceremony, it followed the exact form prescribed in the Archdiocesan manual, which meant that except for Geno’s and Anna’s names, the service was identical to mine, and to Tasha’s, and to every other wedding I’d attended from the time I was old enough to remember.

After the wedding service was completed, everyone walked to the Hawthorne Inn where the reception was being held. Fortunately, Anna’s mother and grandmother had arranged things so that Elizaveta and I could participate fully. We left when the dancing was just getting started, retrieved our bags, and walked out to the waiting car which would take us to Logan Airport for the last flight out to Columbus.

“You look tired, Mike,” Elizaveta said as the car accelerated away from the curb.

“It’s been a whirlwind weekend and I still need to study on the plane.”

“Why don’t you sleep? You don’t have an exam tomorrow, right?”

“No, but I need to review for anatomy class.”

“Do that in the morning, and skip your flashcards and second review. Missing one day isn’t going to hurt you. When I quizzed you yesterday you only missed one card!”

“But I missed one!” I objected. “And you know full well that whichever one it is I don’t know will be the one that a professor or doctor asks, and it’ll cost the team points!”

“Mike, you’re obsessing. The class is pass/fail! You’re going to pass, with honors. But not if you don’t take care of yourself, and that means listening to your wife and letting her take care of you!”

The tone of her voice made it clear she would brook no argument, and if I was honest with myself, she was correct. I’d received an honors ‘H’ on about two-thirds of the graded assignments, quizzes, and exams, and obsessing over a single point here or there wasn’t going to make any real difference. I didn’t like admitting that, even to myself, but it was the truth.

“Yes, Kitten,” I agreed. “You’re right.”

“Of course I am!” she said, then leaned over and kissed my cheek.

“I love you,” I said.

“I know.”

The only thing to do was laugh, and kiss my wife on the cheek, which was the limit when I was wearing my cassock, even sitting together in the back seat of a chauffeured Lincoln Town Car.

October 21, 1985, McKinley, Ohio

“That extra sleep did you good!” Elizaveta giggled on Monday morning after we’d made love twice instead of going for our run.

“I always have energy for sex!” I declared. “Just one look at your naked body is all it takes to energize me!”

“I hate to say it, but we need to shower so I’m not late for school.”

“If I were a doctor, I could write you an excuse note!”