pain, releasing Anke's hands just in time to avoid pulling her down to the floor with him. Despite the hard landing, he did not evade the question. “Yes, yes!” he moaned. “Will you marry me?”
Assuring herself he was okay, Anke stepped back, restraining a smile. She pursed her lips and began a careful assessment of his bandaged body. “Well, I can't say that's exactly my idea of a romantic proposal,” she declared.
He grimaced up at her thoughtful stance, rubbing his ankle, still hoping for a positive response.
Graduating to a frown, she put her left hand to her chin and stroked it with thumb and forefinger. “I don't know about this marriage thing, Mr. Feldman,” she vacillated. “You look like damaged goods to me. I wouldn't want to find myself stuck for the rest of my life with defective merchandise.”
He broke into a grin. She helped him to his feet and he placed his good arm around her shoulders.
“So,” she changed the subject, “how are you going to write this story, anyway? As memoirs? As a biography? Autobiography?”
Feldman sighed, impatient over her coy avoidance of his proposal. “I'm not sure, exactly. I haven't had a chance to think it through yet I'll probably write it as some sort of journal.”
“Good!” Anke approved his choice. “A journal's the perfect vehicle for telling Jeza's story the way She'd want it to be told. It'll help you stay more objective and keep personal interpretation out of it.”
“What's this!” Feldman rejoined with a smile of amazement “Is this the same woman who once heckled me about my reporting being too objective? Is this the same woman who called me a human word processor, who said I should inject more personal opinion into my journalism? Well, well, well!”
She screwed up her face in amused irritation and gave him a disparaging look. “There's nothing more obnoxious than a man who thinks he's right all the time!”
“Hey,” he cautioned her with raised eyebrows and mock superiority, “are you forgetting that I'm a recipient of divine revelation?”
She narrowed her eyes at him and leaned in close. “This is going to be an interesting marriage, isn't it, Mr. Feldman?”
He drew closer still, narrowing his eyes back at her. “Yes, ma'am,” he prophesied, “I believe it is.” And he kissed her.
Outside the window, the cheering swelled, rose up and spread across the greening spring landscape of the Holy Land.
