We All Shine On

Chapter 3: Girl Meets Beatle

"Can you believe it?" I squealed into the telephone, the cord wrapped around my free hand. "This is going to be the biggest thing I've ever done, Adena!"

"Mmhmm," mumbled my older sister. "That's... that's almost too good to be true! I'm so happy for you!"

That was a first, it seemed. As a sister four years older than me, Adena made sure I knew my place. She often got jealous when Mama and Daddy gave me 'too much attention', if you could call it that. Nobody was ever spoiled in our family, not even me, the youngest.

"I still can't come to grips with it myself," I confessed, and it was true. Was I ready? College had prepared me for this, but my mind wasn't so sure. But if both my boss and my sister believed in me, how hard could it be? "Are you going to tell Mama and Daddy and Isaac?"

"Do you mind if I do, Miri?" she asked, answering my question with another question.

I smirked. "Do you think that I would mind?" I always liked back-to-back questioning. If I weren't a photographer, I might have been a lawyer.

"I'll tell them for you. Isaac will be so surprised," Adena remarked. "He loves Lennon." Isaac Stein was Adena's fiance, who lived in the same Chicago suburb as my parents and my sister. My oldest sister, Deborah, lived in a quiet Indiana town with her husband Eli Cohen. As both of my sisters had found good Jewish-American husbands, I felt the pressure from my parents to get married. However, I had no such desire or intent on finding a man. But with this new task, maybe I could prove that I made the right choice.

"Good," I stated, a self-assured spark evident in my voice. This is tomorrow, I thought. Tomorrow. That word flooded thorugh me like a river. Everything I did that day was eclipsed by the thought that tomorrow was going to be my big break.

When I awoke Wednesday morning, I tried to put in extra effort to make an impression. I opted to wear a light, ruffled chiffon blouse of pale yellow paired with a white pencil skirt, and I spent longer than usual on my makeup. I hailed a taxi from my tenement-like apartment to my workplace 20 blocks away.

Each step up the staircase was one step closer to my goal, I told myself. Kendra was there at the front desk instead of snooty Ernst von Krauss. "He's in Queens today, apparently," my friend told me. "God knows what the man is doin' there."

When I entered my office, my boss was already there, but there was someone next to him. But not just anyone. I immediately recognized him as the John Lennon. Though it might have been considered rude not to greet my boss, I stood and stared at the other man. He was a bit taller in real life than I'd imagined him to be, much taller than my 5 feet 4 inches. His chestnut brown hair was ever so slightly disheveled, but he wore a neat brown shirt and pants.

"Miss Ruben," Mr. Pirelli said to get my attention. "Good morning."

"Yes, it's a great day to be alive," I nervously cheered.

He looked John in the eye and gestured to me. "This young lady is Miriam Ruben, and she will be filling in for Matthew for the Times shoot. She's only 23 years old. Can you believe it. She is young but promising." I smiled at the boss' praise.

Next, Mr. Lennon held out his hand, which I shook. "Pleased to meet you, miss."