Left on Paradise (15 page)

“Really?”

“Stay put,” Linh said. “I’ll get it.”

Tiffany waited with Ursula as Linh disappeared into the dark.

“Have you told Sean?” Tiffany asked.

“I need to be sure first.”

“Have you decided what to do if ...” Tiffany’s voice trailed off.

“It’s not the States and I’m not about to take the morning-after pills they brought—even if they’re not lost at sea. They’re too experimental for me—I don’t want to bleed to death in the middle of nowhere.”

“They’re safe. Or they wouldn’t be here.”

“No,” Ursula. “I’ve done a fair amount of reading. Besides, there are far worse fates than raising my child in Paradise.”

“That’s,” Tiffany nodded, “why I’m here.”

Linh returned with a small box in hand. The square-shaped carton was torn open and its instructions scanned before being tossed into the fire. Ursula walked behind the mess tent and urinated directly on a plastic container, then returned to her seat as the chemicals processed. As Tiffany placed her arm around Ursula’s shoulders and Linh held her by the hand, the women endured a long wait of three minutes. When Ursula finally held the test to the light of the fire, the women saw a blue cross—a positive reading—in the middle of the device.

“Oh my ... I’m having a baby.”

“Congratulations,” Linh said, “if you want them.”

Tiffany gave Ursula a gentle hug.

“You have your own life to live and choices to make,” Tiffany said, “but let me say one thing. Motherhood is better than marriage, though you have to swear never to tell that to Brent. Men can’t stand the truth.”

“Yeah,” Linh said, “no man is completely good, but babies are never bad.”

“You never regret giving birth,” Tiffany continued, “and we’ll always be here with you.”

“We would be honored,” Linh added, “to share motherhood with you.”

Ursula forced a smile as tears welled into her eyes, then shuffled to her own tent as Tiffany and Linh lingered another twenty minutes—both women reminiscing about their firstborn and how their husbands responded. Only after the fire burned out and a night chill brought goose pimples to bared arms did they return to the warmth of their husbands and nearness of their children.

Charles sat beside Karla at the reconvening of the Executive Council. He was dressed in green bathing trunks with a yellow tee shirt while Karla wore a blue bikini. Neither wore shoes.

“Charlie?” Karla asked when the last delegate arrived. “You ready?”

“Bring it on.”

“Executive Meeting is in session.”

The other members sat at the table, two whispering and two remaining silent.

“Charlie ... I mean, Charles and I,” Karla said, “have reviewed your suggestions. It’s remarkable how much we hold in common. We’ve sorted out your opinions and divided today’s agenda into four topics: the intrinsic nature of marriage, making and dissolving marriage, codes of sexual morality, and the problem of effectively reforming marital law. I think everyone of us understands this matter is filled with theoretical difficulty and emotional volatility since the marital bond affects us in our most intimate concerns. This debate will have to be handled rather delicately—even in a progressive community like ours—or it may trigger a cultural reaction as it has in the United States.”

Opening remarks were well received and the discussion soon began—with Charles speaking first.

“I propose,” Charles said, “we entertain debate in the four areas and propose motions after suitable periods of discussion. We can draft a platform that’ll be sent to the entire community for ratification.”

His proposal was unanimously accepted and discussion began.

“First things first,” Karla said. “We need to decide whether we want marriage to exist among us. To decide whether it’s relevant to our experience and this island. After all, Jesus himself said there’d be no marriage in paradise. Who are we to doubt the foremost social conservative?”

Everyone laughed.

“Let’s start.” Charles said, “by listing its advantages and disadvantages.”

Two hands were raised.

“First,” Karla said, “I suggest we use one or two word descriptions so as to avoid boring speeches and senseless discussions. Let’s cut to the chase.”

Her idea was applauded.

“Domination,” the gray-haired delegate said.

“Convenient sex,” the northern blonde noted.

“Responsible parenthood,” someone observed.

“Patriarchy,” another delegate said.

“Love.”

“Loyalty.”

“Expectations.”

“Quarrels.”

“Trust.”

“More sex,” the blonde said.

“Housework.”

“Continuity.”

“Tradition.”

“Freedom.”

“Slavery.”

“Happiness.”

“Despair.”

“Comfort.”

“Reproach.”

“Honor.”

“Sacrifice.”

“Shame.”

“Adultery.”

“Divorce.”

“Enough,” the eastern moderator said. “My point is proved perfectly: marriage is all things to all people. It’s an individual arrangement, not a social consensus. Every one of us chooses if and how to marry based on our own predispositions.”

“Agreed,” Charles added. “For instance, Joan and I made certain arrangements in our married life others might not select for themselves. And others have taken on obligations we could never endure.”

“So,” the gray-haired delegate said, “you’re saying marriage is an individual contract?”

“Exactly,” Karla answered. “Nothing more. And there’s no general obligation to marry, to procreate, or even to love.”

“Or divorce,” Charles added.

“Or anything,” Karla said. “There are no obligations whatsoever regarding marriage. No natural roles of the sexes. No innate morality. No fundamental responsibilities beyond the will of two people made together. Do we agree on that?”

Everyone did.

“Traditional monogamy,” Karla continued, “assumed marriage was an institution ordained—by God, man, nature, or whatever—for exclusive sexual gratification, protective child custody, and obligatory assistance. Isn’t that true?”

The councilpersons agreed it was.

“But,” Karla said, sitting up straighter in her chair and leaning forward ever so slight as she spoke with a studied voice, “such purposes have no place among us. Not one of us restricts sexual activity to marriage; we all believe children should be communally raised; and every one of us lives by a social egalitarianism that condemns the stockpiling of provisions in the capitalist household. To be frank, marriage—that is, the real marriage of the past—is a type of bondage as historically obsolete as indentured servitude. So why continue the hypocrisy?”

The northern blonde raised her hand. “What about love?” she asked.

“Are you proposing marriage and love are inseparable?” Charles asked.

“No,” the woman said, “only that love leads to marriage as kisses lead to sexual intercourse.”

“I agree with the latter,” Charles said, “but not the former. Is love less real for remaining free? Don’t couples fall in love before they speak of marrying and don’t they part ways when they fall out of love?”

“Doesn’t love crave marriage like sex demands climax?” the blond northerner asked.

“Ask your typical housewife about either one of those propositions,” the gray-haired delegate from the south village said with a laugh, “and you’d be surprised at her answer.”

Everyone laughed.

“Love,” Karla said, “does desire completion. You’re right to say sex started needs to be finished or it leads to frustration. But do you mean to say couples should never break up? Do you mean to restrict divorce? Do you think that love without marriage is romantic frustration?”

“No,” the blonde said, “I mean only that the desire for marriage is as real as the desire for sex.”

“I’ve never wanted to marry and I’m no virgin,” the gray-haired woman said, “and I haven’t been since I turned fourteen.”

“Even if your point is granted,” Karla said, ignoring the interruption, “I don’t know what good marriage does. Isn’t love the goal of the relationship?”

The blonde pushed her chair from the table. “Doesn’t marriage prove love?”

“What kind of love can be proved by marriage?” Charles objected.

“A love that gives itself totally,” the blonde said. “That surrenders itself for the other. That promises loyalty in sickness and health, good and bad, thick and thin.”

“But now,” Karla said, a more insistent tone to her voice, “you’re making marriage obligatory.”

“And pretentious,” Charles said, “since marriage is a promise, not a power. A man can pretend to swear fidelity or loyalty or even to lasso the moon, but he can’t really do it. Love lives only as long as a couple chooses to love. If they change their minds, old oaths become irrelevant.”

“I understand,” the blonde persisted, “that a lifetime isn’t lived in a day. Children know that. What I’m saying is that it’s worth promising to try.”

“To try what?” Karla asked.

“To try to love.”

“But what exactly is love?”

“Kindness and goodness and loyalty.”

“No,” the gray-haired delegate now said. “This takes us back to character. Back to morality and obligation. It’s unconstitutional.”

For the first time, Dr. Graves entered the conversation. “I’m not sure I understand the unconstitutionality of love as a self-chosen obligation.”

“Article II of the charter,” the gray-haired councilor said, “mandates the exercising of individual free choices and Article IV guarantees the right to free association and sexual preference.”

“Yes,” the doctor said, “but ...”

“But,” the gray-hair cut him short, “you want to deny our constitutional rights?”

“No,” the doctor now said, his voice now a little louder, “but the freedom of association includes the right to marry.”

“As long as it’s freely made,” the gray hair continued, “and doesn’t restrict other freedoms such as sexual preference and conscience.”

“Granted.”

“Which marriage does if it becomes a legal obligation. Authority is transferred from the wishes and desires of the individual man or woman to a so-called covenant made between two people that brings sanctions if broken.”

“But what if they freely made their promises?” the doctor asked.

“And what if they promise to eat their children?” the southern woman said. “Or what if a black woman willingly sells herself as a slave?”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“As is every illegal promise.”

“Enough! Stop it!” Karla now stood. “Everyone take a breath and settle down. We’re not so far apart. No one wants to impose Christian monogamy and no one wants to prohibit couples from calling themselves married if they so choose. Agreed?”

Most of the councilpersons nodded—though the gray-haired southern delegate sat stone-faced.

“In any case,” Karla said, “we’ll never get complete consensus here or anywhere else. Maggie, what’s the minimum we have to achieve?”

Karla turned to Maggie, the gray-haired woman, who thought about the matter for a minute before answering.

“Women,” Maggie said, “must not be enslaved by marriage. There must be freedom for every woman to decide whether to marry and how to be married. No social pressure, no moral restraints, no legal persecution. Marriage can’t be a type of living death in which a woman gives her life for the sake of someone else.”

Karla turned to the blonde. “Naomi?”

“Marriage,” the tall blonde from the north replied, “should be permitted if desired. Individuals must be free to choose. And although the law places no bonds upon them, they must be allowed to make their own rules—even to swear loyalty and fidelity till death do us part.”

Karla went around the room, asking each delegate the same question. Charles asked that the rules of marriage made by couples be respected even when unorthodox and the twice-divorced Dr. Graves demanded that ending a marriage be uncomplicated and inexpensive. The northern blonde also requested marriage be clearly defined by law and its rules be self-evident. For the next hour, everyone shared thoughts regarding which individual rights to safeguard and how to do so. There was little disagreement among them regarding fundamental principles—though discussion was more heated regarding implementation.

During afternoon recess, Karla and Charles worked out a new agenda and new proposals, reconvening Executive Council after dinner as Karla opened the late session with a word of thanks.

“I know,” Karla said, “tempers flared earlier today. They ought to. This is a tough issue that lays bare the human heart. Yet, Charles and I have drafted a law that we believe should withstand constitutional scrutiny, the public will, and your approval.”

Charles pushed several copies of a short memo to the middle of the table. Each councilperson took a copy and read it silently. Five minutes later, the gray-hair proposed the new law be sent to the neighborhoods as drafted and brought to a General Will of the People as soon as possible. The blonde seconded the proposal and the motion unanimously passed after another ten minutes of amplification and clarification. The text of the first proposed amendment to the charter read: