Left on Paradise (43 page)

Read Left on Paradise Online

Authors: Kirk Adams

BOOK: Left on Paradise
11.08Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“In that case,” the anthropologist said, “there’d be no reason to deny the expression of natural biological impulses.”

“So,” Kit paused to think through her words, “you’re saying that biology is destiny? That every sexual desire is acceptable?”

“We are biological creatures—made by sex and for sex. The logic of biology provides no reason to shackle our sexual impulses.”

“Are you,” Kit asked, “saying every perverse itch ought to be scratched?”

“What I’m saying,” the anthropologist said, his tone clearly exasperated, “is there are no divine laws or transcendent ethics that restrict human behavior. No rules of any sort exist and we have no right to tell others what to do. That’s the path of public stockades and private suffering. It’s the way of the Puritans and pilgrims and ...”

“Everyone who hates indecency.”

“You still don’t understand. Each person must make his or her own values. That’s what it means to be human. What’s inhuman is to force one person’s preference on others—unless it can be objectively verified as true or real or natural. And the prohibition against incest fails on all three grounds: there’s no final truth that condemns it; it certainly exists among real people; and nature doesn’t stop it.”

“Nature doesn’t stop a lot of gross, disgusting things,” Kit said. “That doesn’t mean we should sit in our own ... excrement.”

“I don’t consider gross a precise term of the social sciences.”

“And I don’t consider incest a good custom. It’s both wrong and unhealthy.”

“There’s no real difference between right and wrong,” Dr. Morales explained, “and there’s nothing unhealthy about sleeping with an aunt or sister or mother.”

“Wait a minute,” Dr. Graves said as he joined the discussion. “This is where you and I part company since there are real genetic consequences to the pairing of close relatives. We’re all educated and I need not belabor the point. On eugenic grounds, I’d request that this marriage be forbidden.”

A round of light applause broke out and the anthropologist thought about the problem before answering.

“I agree with you,” Dr. Morales said, “regarding the genetic risks; but what if the boy will accept a vasectomy? Would there be any health risks to the couple themselves?”

“That’s,” the doctor said as he shook his head, “a rather permanent solution for such a young man.”

“So is celibacy.”

“It’s not quite so permanent.”

“I don’t care to stand here all night,” a woman shouted, “while you people debate ethical niceties. It’s getting late. Give us something to vote upon so we can leave.”

“I agree,” Heidi said. “The issues are clear and we need to make some decisions. First, we need to determine whether or not brothers and sisters will be allowed to marry and then we can decide what to do with this particular problem. The stakes are the following: if we outlaw sibling marriages we’ll need to dissolve this marriage and force this couple apart. That means they live in different villages and we’ll need to punish them if they defy our vote by sneaking into the forest to engage in carnal relations. On the other hand, if we permit sibling marriages, these teenagers must be absolutely allowed to live as husband and wife—as legitimate as any other. I move we vote on the legality of sibling marriage. All those in favor say yea.”

A loud yea came from the crowd.

“All those against say nay.”

An equally loud nay was muttered.

Heidi lost no time in moving to the next stage. “We’ll vote by hands,” she announced. “Those in favor of permitting sibling marriages raise your right hand.”

Hands went up and a count was made. Thirty residents cast votes for sibling marriage, mostly from the east and north neighborhoods.

“All those for outlawing sibling marriages raise your right hand.”

This time only twenty-six hands were raised, mostly westerners and southerners. Many residents didn’t vote.

“Sibling marriage is legalized.”

Groans of dismay came from the west neighborhood while cheering rang from the east. The northerners showed little reaction and the southerners were divided.

“Since sibling marriage,” Heidi declared, “will be permitted, I suggest we require genetic counseling for relatives who wish to marry.”

Heidi’s proposal was adopted and the assembly decided the young newlyweds should live with the northerners—though they were told that their marriage would be legally recognized only after they had received birth control guidance and genetic counseling from Dr. Graves. The assembly awarded them a supply of condoms for a wedding gift.

Following the vote, the father to both bride and groom alike walked home in dismay while his distraught wife scavenged a bottle of scotch and drank herself into a few hours of anguished bliss.

 

Later in the evening, several women of the west neighborhood sat around the campfire as they drank rum and pineapple juice. Only Ursula abstained from alcohol.

“It’s a scandal,” Kit said. “Can’t we stand for anything?”

“Only,” Heather said with a shrug, “when we’re not against something else.”

“Like a child who can’t be told no.”

“It’s all politics,” Linh said. “The east villagers were afraid a moral stand would turn against their lifestyle and the northerners feared we someday might outlaw their dope.”

“If word leaks out,” Kit said, “we’ll be shamed before the entire world.”

“I’m ashamed already,” Heather whispered.

“Brent and I are leaving,” Tiffany said, “our boys aren’t going to be exposed to open incest.”

“Viet says the same,” Linh added, “he said we’re taking the next boat home.”

“I just hope I’m not carrying twins,” Ursula joked.

“With my parents,” Heather said, “it makes me glad to be an only child.”

“At least,” Kit said, “you’ve kept your sense of humor.”

“We foundlings are scrappers and survivors.”

Now the other women laughed.

“Speaking of losing and finding,” Heather said, “do you realize I’ve managed utterly to lose my innocence without finding a man? Some tropical paradise this has proved to be.”

“You’ve done well,” Ursula said, “much better than I have.”

“If you leave,” Heather said as she looked to Tiffany and Linh, “so will I. This is the nicest neighborhood on the island. I can’t bear the thought of living with any of the others.”

“We have our own problems,” Kit said.

“But most of you are nice.”

“So are many of the others,” Kit added. “The quiet ones.”

“A toast to nice neighbors,” Linh said as the women raised their drinks.

“Speaking of neighbors,” Heather said, “did I tell you Dr. Morales invited me to visit the natives?”

“I’ll bet,” Kit said with a bitter sneer to her voice, “they don’t marry brothers and sisters.”

Everyone laughed.

“Of course not,” Tiffany said, “they have children and no parent would ever permit such an indecency. It’s the childless who have such harebrained ideas.”

Kit looked away.

“I’m sorry,” Tiffany apologized. “You spoke well today. For all of us.”

Kit said nothing.

“I’m serious,” Tiffany blushed. “Brent and I would want you to raise our children if anything happened to us.”

“Ryan wouldn’t want children.”

“That’s his loss,” Tiffany said, “you’d make a great mom. You’re sweet and strong—and kids love you. If anything happened to us on this island, we hope you’d be the one to raise our children. To get them back home.”

Kit looked into her drink. “That’s kind of you to say.”

“Viet and I feel the same,” Linh added, “and sometimes I think my kids like you better than me. They even ask me to dress more like you.”

“Mine,” Tiffany said, “ask me to pretend to be her. They call me Aunt Kit.”

“I like those kids,” Kit whispered.

“I just hope they don’t abandon us for you,” Tiffany said.

“In Paradise,” Heather quipped, “such things have been known to happen.”

“I feel the same way,” Ursula joined in, “when my baby takes his first look at Kit’s chest, I’m afraid he’ll prefer hill country over flat lands.”

All five women roared with laughter.

“It’s all show,” Kit said. “I’d give anything to nurse a baby just once.”

“When’s Ryan going to marry you?” Ursula asked after a time.

“I’m not sure he will. We’ve drifted apart.”

“Don’t you want him to?”

“I suppose,” Kit said, “but I’m tired of waiting for a proposal from my own husband.”

“If I were you,” Tiffany said, “I’d just ask him.”

“If you were her,” Ursula said, “you’d just tell him.”

“Don’t ask,” Kit said, “don’t tell. That’s my motto.”

The banter continued several minutes more as the women finished their drinks and the fire burned down. Linh and Tiffany were the first to retire, followed by Ursula and Heather. Kit remained at the fire another hour and only after its coals were covered with gray ash and the night air had chilled did she stumble through the dark toward her tent. Though she retired late, she was restless and easily distracted by the noises of the forest.

 

It was still dark when the fly unzipped on Ryan’s tent and Maria crawled in. Ryan opened his eyes and smiled—love was coming before the first glint of dawn. It would be a good day.

“It’s nice to see you so early,” Ryan whispered.

Maria put a finger to her lips and told Ryan to be still while she lit a candle. She pointed to her grass skirt. “You like it?”

“The same one?”

“I sewed this one myself. For you.”

“I like it.”

“This is my best shirt,” Maria said.

Ryan looked at the shirt. Even through the flickering candlelight he saw the round lift of her breasts and the glow of golden skin through thin cotton.

“I like that even better.”

“I’m glad,” Maria said. “It’s my wedding ensemble.”

Ryan grinned. “Who are you marrying?”

“You.”

“And when are you marrying me?”

“Now.”

“I haven’t told Kit.”

“I was patient,” Maria said, “when you couldn’t marry her, but I won’t be while you can. Today ends the waiting period and tomorrow she’ll be available, so you must choose today. Not tomorrow. Not tonight. Now.”

As she spoke, Maria unbuttoned her shirt and crawled forward. When Ryan wrapped an arm around her back and tried to pull her close, she arched her spine and kept him at bay.

“Not before marriage,” Maria said.

Ryan again tried to pull her close, but this time the young woman locked her elbows against his chest and said he’d have to choose. Now Ryan looked at Maria’s eyes, then at her uncovered breasts which contrasted with the bleached white cotton of her unbuttoned blouse. The woman’s auburn hair fell to her shoulders and her smooth body sparkled in the flickering candlelight.

Ryan twitched. “I’ll tell her this week.”

“Now.”

“Let me break it to her softly.”

Maria smiled and moved closer. Her lips touched Ryan’s as he pulled her so close that her breasts pressed against his chest as she lay hands on him until desire stirred—then she pushed him away.

“Only a taste.”

“Be nice,” Ryan groaned.

“One good turn deserves another.”

“I’ve tried to tell her. To tell the truth, she half expects me not to marry her. I just can’t get the words out.”

“You need to be a man.”

Ryan tried to grab Maria by the waist. “I’ll show you a man,” he declared.

Maria blocked his hands. “I told you before,” she said, “I’d make you beg for my baby.”

“I’ll tell her today.”

“Before breakfast.”

“You won’t touch me again until we’re married.”

“We never spoke of marriage.”

“And we didn’t speak of duplicity either,” Maria said. “I know you slept with her on the beach.”

Ryan started to object.

“No lies,” Maria said. “We’ve not confessed everything, but we’ve never lied.”

Ryan nodded.

“Also,” Maria said, “I like Kit and it’s only fair to her. It’s not right to string her along.”

Ryan said nothing.

“You’re in love with me,” Maria said, “and I with you. Do you want us to continue or not?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then you’ve already made your choice. It only remains to announce it.”

“I suppose so,” Ryan said as he moved toward the young woman, taking both of her hands in his as he glanced at her breasts and hips. “Maria, will you marry me?”

“Now?”

Ryan nodded.

“I do,” Maria said.

“Then I now pronounce us man and wife.”

Maria threw her arms around Ryan’s neck and told him to kiss the bride as Ryan blew out the light and they tumbled on his grass-filled mattress, making little effort to remove their clothes quietly. When they fell apart twenty minutes later, Ryan rolled over to sleep while Maria picked up a half-clean shirt and stepped outside to wash.

Other books

Ash Wednesday by Williamson, Chet, Jackson, Neil
Barrel Fever by Sedaris, David
Twelve Days by Teresa Hill
The Boat Builder's Bed by Kris Pearson
Lake Country by Sean Doolittle
If We Kiss by Vail, Rachel
Bird Box by Josh Malerman
Men in the Making by Bruce Machart