by Kirk Adams
Dr. Graves spoke first, briefing fellow councilors on the loss of feminine supplies and explaining how rationing was being conducted until a resupply vessel could arrive. The doctor also reported that he’d used an emergency satellite connection to arrange an early drop of required goods with a retired green energy investor—a former neighbor and casual acquaintance—who planned to sail the South Pacific during coming weeks. The yachtsman had promised to bring tampons, sanitary napkins, PMS tablets, and birth control pills to replace what had been lost. Everyone applauded the doctor’s initiative and the council sanctioned his efforts ex post facto. Executive Council also authorized overnight docking of the yacht for resupply and mail pick-up and also voted to honor its crew with a luau. At the eastern brunette’s suggestion, it was decided not to request additional supplies beyond the replacement order. Since no one wanted to repeat the unfortunate inability of Jamestown to support itself without outside intervention and capitalist speculation, all additional resupply was limited to the scheduled six-month restocking. Only an emergency as dire as loss of birth control pills and sanitary napkins had justified outside intervention.
Subsequent agenda items concerned the issues of pollution, militarism, and capitalism. When the southern delegate requested guidance regarding the proper disposal of non-biodegradable materials, Charles explained how MRE wrappers were used as sandbags in the west and other councilors shared useful suggestions as the southern delegate—a gray-haired woman wearing faded jeans and a sleeveless tee shirt—recorded the better ideas and promised to implement them upon her return home.
Next, the southern woman asked whether children should be allowed to play with toy weapons, noting that two boys in her neighborhood had smuggled plastic soldiers into Paradise. Though the council considered this an egregious violation of charter rules, it was decided to make a mild rebuke and discreetly dispose of the offensive items without public censure. Charles suggested the soldiers be recycled as melted plastic rather than burned or buried (with the effect of polluting either the atmosphere with the acrid smoke of burnt plastic or the earth with non-biodegradable plastic), but the majority deemed it best to purify themselves from militarism and industrial plastics alike by sacrificing the toys to fire. There would be no beating of plowshares from swords since it was feared this might implicitly encourage making swords (or molding soldiers). Executive Council voted to ban all manufacture or use of toy arms, weapons, games, or simulations. Finally, an issue was discussed dealing with concerns raised by the east village after the soft-faced brunette explained how workload disputes were paralyzing her neighborhood. After a short discussion, it was voted that the staff psychologist, Dr. Erikson, be authorized to arbitrate differences—with her decisions possessing full regulatory power.
After a short recess, Dr. Morales petitioned to launch an archaeological expedition over the horizon. He briefed the council on the cultural significance of Heather’s petroglyphs and requested permission to draw a week of rations and use of a sailboat to search for archaeological remains and artifacts. Though he assessed the discovery of anything larger than rock etchings unlikely, the anthropologist explained it was imperative that he make an attempt to contribute to substantive scholarship and cultural preservation as much as humanly possible. His request was granted, the councilors asking only that any finds be kept intact rather than looted or moved to museums—a request Dr. Morales accepted without reservation. As soon as his petition was granted, the anthropologist excused himself to begin preparations.
The northern representative—a tall blonde wearing a halter top and cutoff shorts—spoke next.
“Our only real issue,” the woman declared, “has been litter. Several people have been careless with their trash. The neighborhood has assigned them cleanup detail and we hope the situation will be self-correcting.”
Everyone applauded the northern success.
“Good effort,” Charles said. “Anything else?”
“I guess we also had a dispute over our work schedule,” the northern blonde said. “We were working a five-day week with flex hours and the early risers resented the late-birds arriving midmorning and then taking a long lunch to escape the sun. It got so bad both groups were threatening to unionize.”
“How’d you address the issue?” Karla, the brunette delegate from the east, asked.
“We rewrote our rules,” the blonde continued, “so breaks can be taken anytime after four hours of work. Now our late risers come in earlier to put in four honest hours before lunch. No one wants to be working at noon.”
Another round of applause went out.
“Anything else?”
“One last issue. A bit more serious,” the northern blonde said, panning the group to draw their attention.
“What’s that?” Charles asked.
“A little jealousy. Apparently, one of our women is polyerotic by nature and two guys are bickering over her. We’re not really sure how to handle arrangements since she left the boyfriend she came with. It’s a little bit ...”
“If you don’t mind, may I say something,” Charles interjected, turning from the northern woman to the moderator, “that bears on this concern?”
The northern blonde yielded the table.
“We have similar issues,” Charles explained. “There are hints of tension between those who choose strict monogamy and those who delight in their freedom more completely. In fact, some of my neighborhood have asked for an explanation of the laws of marriage and love so that ground rules can be set from the start.”
Everyone now gave full attention.
“What is marriage?” Charles asked. “Is it a relationship or a promise, a signature or a decree of state? Who can marry? When? How? What makes a divorce? What are the implications of the right to sexual association? All of these questions require review, not for academic discourse, but for the practical government of this island. I suggest we draft a platform that can be sent to the whole people for deliberation before necessity forces the issue. Since none of us expects our relationships to remain static, we need to get on top of this issue early.”
“Does everyone else,” Karla asked, “believe this discussion necessary?”
Every hand was raised.
“Then let’s divide,” Karla declared, “the issue into components and break for the day. Everyone can reflect on the debate through the evening and provide talking points for discussion. If you can give these to me by, say ... nine in the morning, I’ll prepare a final agenda by noon. Then we’ll meet tomorrow after lunch to continue our discussion. Agreed?”
Karla’s motion carried and delegates soon filed from the tent to study the issue. The stern-faced southerner found an anthology of feminist theory at the library and disappeared into the woods while the northern blonde took a notepad and a single pencil to a shady tree. Dr. Graves worked from his computer. Charles stuffed his knapsack with food, books, and sunscreen, then started walking toward the beach as Karla (the brown-eyed brunette from the east neighborhood) followed at his heels.
“Charles,” she called.
“What’s going on, Karla?”
“Going to the beach?”
“To do my homework,” Charles said, nodding toward the sea.
“You mind if I join you?”
Charles eyed the woman from ankle to breast. “I’d like that. Where’re your things?”
The woman picked up a half-filled knapsack and said she had everything. Then the couple walked side by side to the beach—where they found empty lawn chairs beneath a palm tree and set to work. Charles copied passages from his books while Karla worked from memory. Occasionally, they exchanged ideas or debated texts and soon were condensing notes into outlines. When they finished, they reclined into beach chairs and ate unwrapped MREs (along with flat bread and fruit punch) as they enjoyed the sunset.
After they were done eating, Karla retrieved a dark-colored bottle from her backpack. “I’ll freshen that juice a little,” she said.
Cha
rles held his glass out as Karla unscrewed the cap from a bottle of rum and spiked their drinks.
“This is the best punch,” Charles said, “I’ve drank in a month. We’re down to two bottles of vodka we’re rationing. And I think the village has a case of wine or champagne.”
“Ryan and Kit?”
Charles laughed. “Hollywood in the jungle.”
“I brought whiskey and rum,” Karla said. “A full case. Much bigger bang for the buck.”
“I agree,” Charles said, clinking his glass against Karla’s before throwing his head back and chugging the drink.
“More?” Karla asked and Charles took the bottle from her hand, taking a long swig of rum while Karla sipped her share. Indeed, they talked and drank until both the conversation and the rum ran dry, then rolled out sleeping bags and slept beneath the stars. They woke the next morning in each other’s arms—their clothing draped over a chair and sand clinging to every fold of flesh.
Three women sat side by side at the campfire. Behind them, the dark contour of Mount Zion shadowed the eastern sky and before them the flames had burned down to coals. Two of the women sat hands folded over knees as they whispered and occasionally laughed out loud. The third woman’s face dropped toward her lap, her hands clutched tight. She said nothing.
“Don’t even start about labor,” Linh said. “I spent twelve hours in labor with both girls. No second time discount for me.”
Tiffany nodded. “I had twins. Eight hours of labor followed by a C-section.”
“That hurts,” Linh said, “even to think of it. They never cut me open.”
“It took me six months to recover,” Tiffany said with a groan.
“Six months?”
“I could walk in a few days, but it was six months before I had my strength.”
“That’s horrible.”
“That’s why I had Brent fixed afterwards. No more of that nonsense.”
“Good for him,” Linh said. “More men should have it done.”
Ursula joined the conversation. “I wish Sean had.”
Both women asked Ursula what was troubling her and she explained that her period was late.
“How late?” Tiffany asked.
“A day or two.”
Tiffany smiled. “That’s nothing.”
“Plus a week,” Ursula added.
Tiffany said no more.
“I’m sometimes a week late,” Linh said.
“I’m never,” Ursula said, “more than a day early or late and ...”
Tiffany and Linh waited for her to finish.
“My stomach’s queasy and my breasts hurt.”
“I’m sure it’s just the sun,” Linh said.
“No,” Ursula said, “this is different.”
“Then it has to be nerves,” Linh said, “it’s too early for much else and you’re on the pill, right? I didn’t feel anything at all till the third month.”
“It’s not nerves,” Ursula said. “Today I almost vomited brushing my teeth and I’ve had to pee all day. Besides, I don’t use the pill.”
Linh looked startled. “That’s a surprise.”
“It seemed sensible till now,” Tiffany said. “The pill doesn’t stop diseases and it makes me bloat. Condoms are better protection.”
“You use them properly?” Tiffany asked.
“Yeah, usually,” Ursula paused, “but ... there was one time on the ship I couldn’t remember whether we used one or not. There was so much going on that day and we partied all night. I was hung over all morning.”
“How can you not know whether he was wearing a condom?”
“Occasionally we swap out for spermicide. I just can’t remember using either that first day on the ship.”
“Have you checked? To be sure?”
“No,” Ursula said. “I couldn’t walk to the clinic today. Not in this sun. I’m really not feeling very well.”
“We have a test in the medical supplies.”
“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.”