The wait wasn’t long. The doors opened by the hand of a female Educator on either side. It seemed there was a fanfare but there couldn’t be. The only noise was a renewed cheer from the crowd. The explosive sound was matched by a sudden burst of colour as the girls marched forward.
They shone in the sun in their dresses of primrose yellow. Each girl had her hair positioned like a curtain down the left side of her face, held in place by three red poppies.
The girls were bright against the building and then bright against the lawn and as they got closer, Unt could see the brightness of their faces. The applause from the crowd seemed to make them glow deeper which encouraged more cheering in turn.
In one long line, the girls replicated the boys’ snaking manoeuvre only this time, one by one, they dropped off as they came upon their partner. The snake was a hydra with many heads: even as they fell by the wayside, the body kept moving steadily on.
Head forward, Unt watched the lead of the train walk down past him. Then he had to wait and watch the followers pass smoothly by until they were out of sight behind him. Unt watched for his bride-to-be but couldn’t see her in that uniform stream of yellow. Then the lead was walking up the line and past again, cutting off the view of the latest newcomers. So, Unt watched their backs, still looking for Crystal.
Stupid as it was, he felt the pull of doubt that something must go wrong. He feared a girl would stop next to him, that he’d look and it wouldn’t be her. Someone had realised a mistake had been made and here was his replacement. He needed to see Crystal, to know she was there, but as the girls dropped off and made couples with their men, the lawn grew more crowded and it was harder and harder to see.
Now the head of the snake was coming back down toward him, only it was a new girl at the front. The girl who’d been leading had found her partner somewhere behind him. Maybe Crystal had already dropped off too. Maybe she’d taken a chance on some other boy who’s partner hadn’t reached him. She might have cut a deal with someone and swapped.
The three boys in front of him to the left suddenly became three couples. From that point, he could see no more of what was coming. All he could do was stand and wait until the train came up behind him.
Those seconds of effective blindness seemed to multiply out of sight. The stream of girls which had been moving so quickly, seemed to have lost momentum as it lost numbers.
At last, at the edge of his vision, there was a flash of yellow like the first glimpse of the dawn sun. This was another girl, another leader of the juggernaut and her followers ploughed on after her.
Soon, he told himself, soon. The line had become broken now. The gaps between girls had grown larger and they were going too quickly for them to be shorn up. He got a better view of each girl and every one seemed spectacular. Each golden body was pregnant with the possibilities of youth. Any one of them, he thought, would be a delight to have and yet, anything other than Crystal would be a disappointment.
Now the line was moving down his right-hand side. Soon the snake would have coiled round him on both sides. Yet again, the leader had changed and he recognised the bouncing curls of the head of Olissa. She stared ahead fixedly and didn’t seem to see Unt. She seemed angry, but there was nothing new in that.
He was torn between trying to spot Crystal by watching his left or his right. He could try and catch her early on but what if she’d already passed? The only way he’d know for sure was when he felt her hand in his. He knew his worries were ludicrous but human beings are a visual animal and he needed to see her.
Oh, how wrong he was! There, sudden as unexpected rain, was the brush of flesh inside his fingers, a butterfly-delicate touch that thrilled him to the core. His breath caught in his throat, his heart hammered: all the clichéd things he’d heard about but never known were happening at once.
It was a contact unlike anything he had ever known, a fragile coolness with a trickling undercurrent of warmth, the glancing touch of a tangent. Meek and brave all at once, those small, delicate fingers laced around his, silently sealing them together.
He felt he dare not look, that doing so would undoubtedly break the spell. But he also felt that a look was needed to seal the deal, like the hand was an offer and their eyes would lock it shut. The rest of the world had become meaningless. There was only one thing in it and he forced himself to look upon her.
If he’d thought her a vision in the past, it was nothing to how she looked now. It was like her beauty had been magnified ten times over. Her normal self was just a mundane shell she wore to hide this too-bright essence at her core. Her berry-brown skin was musically pure, her hair a stream of sunlight cutting through the meadow of her dress.
And then there was her eye; her left eye; the only eye he could see. The right-hand one which lay nearest was hidden behind a silken sheet of hair. The one that could be seen lay shielded behind rich dark lashes and dusky makeup. Only a hint could be seen, the most secret part of a private garden.
Deep within, he could see her looking out at him, watchful like a hare gone to ground. It was only right that the other eye should be covered: two eyes such as those would have been unfair. The world, Unt thought, may have gems of the brightest colours but there was nothing in all of nature that could compare to that one brown eye.
But, he thought, one single, wary eye wasn’t enough to close the deal. That eye on its own couldn’t make the pact he needed.
All the people on the lawn had faded away like the receding tide. They meant nothing to Unt right then but he was dimly aware of a new entry, a figure of some importance, climbing onto a stage. The tide was suddenly returning and the world came with it.
The lady on the stage was Mephis, the town’s Chief Functionary and it was she who would oversee the ceremony. There were few glorious things about the Order of Functionaries but one of those things was when they got to perform state functions. The Council presided over the Fall of Chance because it involved selection but when there was nothing to be decided, it was the Functionaries who took charge.
Unt had recently wondered what that said about the Council’s attitude to marriage. The allocation of position was kept under their careful eye but the forging of real bonds? That could be done by any fool. They could say anything they wanted about family being the bedrock but sometimes it seemed that what they really cared about was breeding.
Unt didn’t mind being treated like a piece of meat - it had got him a girl with whom he’d otherwise never have a chance - but he was troubled by the expectation that people wouldn’t notice.
Right now though, he couldn’t care less. The world was a pleasant hallucination and everything in it was wonderful. Mephis, for example, was a perfect figure of straw. Like a scarecrow, she was untidy, awkward and her hair looked like strands of grass pushed through a sack but she was a jolly fairy tale creature to Unt’s giddy vision.
He looked up at the Chief on her podium and felt the sun patting his scalp like a reassuring hand. He watched her as she put her hands on the rostrum and pushed her body in a strange circular motion, like a clockwork motor being wound.
“Partners in Fate, Couples of Destiny,” she started, “Here we are, together at last. Today is the last day in your metamorphosis from larvae to butterfly. Have we saved the best to last? That may depend on your outlook but it’s certainly my favourite bit - and not just because I get to oversee it!”
There was a pause for laughter, one that was politely, if not enthusiastically, filled with a gentle rumble. Lump in his throat, Unt could barely manage his share but Crystal made no sound at all.
He looked at her, concerned, but her face was now full-forward and with that veil of hair between them, all he could see was the delicate tip of her nose and her cherry-painted lips. Those lips were slightly parted and seemed to draw chill breath despite the spring heat. There was moistness on them like dew on morning grass, delicately beautiful and slightly melancholy.
Unt became aware that her touch that had pierced him so d
eep not a minute before, now hung limp and insubstantial in his hand. The warm undercurrent had left her fingers. All that remained was a porcelain cold.
“I wasn’t at your draw,” Mephis was saying, “But I’m sure you were told something about marriage being the foundation of our town. I won’t disagree with that but I will add that a happy marriage is the foundation of a happy community. Whether you are pleased or disappointed with what Fate has chosen, I urge you all to try and make each other happy. From that, all other good things come.”
Unt was reminded of the advice that Pearson had given him. Please the woman before you please yourself. Was Crystal thinking that she wanted to please him?
“I’m a woman of few words,” said Mephis, “so that’s your lot as far as advice goes. If you want any more wisdom, talk to a Councillor. For now, we’ll get this show on the road.”
She cleared her throat. “I know you’ve all rehearsed this so many times you could do it blindfold and backward but this time it truly matters, so please, when I tell you what to do, really think of the significance behind it. Let’s start by facing each other.”
There was a general ripple of movement in the assembly as weight shifted, and postures moved. It was like a mass-athlete limbering up for a performance.
Unt faced Crystal. He’d never had a chance to judge before but he guessed he must be three inches taller. Her head was bowed and he couldn’t see her face. Her scalp was beneath his nostrils and he breathed the smell of her hair. Her hand moved easily, like a paper thing to his touch.
“Gentlemen,” said Mephis, “Attend to the sash at your lady’s waist. With your free hand, open the pouch that sits there and remove the coloured cord.”
Unt moved his hand like he was reaching for a sacred artefact. In their practises, the girls had worn the pouches around their necks. It had been exciting to put your hand near a girl’s breast, hoping you might brush it in an accidental sort of way. But a lottery had decided the outfits and the reality was different. The low-hung belt led the hand to a place even more sacred and even more exciting.
He caught the knot around the pouch and pulled. It fell open easily, as it was designed to do for someone working one-handed. The cord was coiled like a nesting serpent and he fished it out, holding it between their two bodies.
This year, it had been the girls’ duty to make the cord and they made them in secret to their own designs. Crystal’s was an amethyst purple, beaded with small white shapes and symbols. Unt wondered what this cryptic narrative meant to her, if it had any special meaning for Rob.
“Still with your free hand, loop the cord around those which are joined,” said Mephis. The woman had ceased to be a person, she was just a voice to the narrative they knew by heart.
As Unt wrapped the cord, he felt the faintest shiver through their joined hands, as though the fabric caused Cyrstal pain.
“Now, together, form the Union Hitch.”
The Union Hitch was a special knot that needed two people to work together to tie it. While both had one hand holding the other’s, they had to make the knot like a single pair of hands. It had taken Unt a long time to get the hang of it but now the effort paid off and they made the knot first-time. There was a slight delay as others didn’t manage so well.
“This knot is the symbol of your union. It binds you in one body and makes you one team. And now we must back up a symbolic gesture with a literal one: we shall now exchange vows.”
There was a pause as Mephis tossed a coin. “By virtue of a coin toss, the boys shall make their vows first. Gentlemen, repeat after me: I take you for my wife and present myself as your husband. Fate has brought us together and Fate will map our future together. In partnership, we shall endeavour to be dutiful, fertile and socially responsible. We shall raise our children in the values of this community and with dedication to the collective well-being. This I swear.”
Unt recited the words along with all the others. As Mephis had urged, he found himself reflecting on them and found they rang hollow. He wanted Crystal, pure and simple and he wanted her to want him. That one, first touch had made his desires clear to him.
“And now the girls shall repeat with me.” The same vow followed with only “wife” and “husband” exchanged. Unt watched Crystal’s lips move like an incantation. He felt her breath whisper on his wrist. She was quiet but not unsteady, nervous but not a sobbing wreck. There was hope here, he thought.
“You shall now seal your union with a kiss,” came the final commandment.
Crystal looked up and Unt’s hopes vanished instantly. He’d expected reluctance but this look was verging on fear. For a microsecond he was horrified he could inspire such revulsion but no, revulsion wasn’t the word: it was like he as a person didn’t come into it. It was the simple fact he was someone else.
It was such a timorous, delicate reluctance that it inspired pity and that only made her more alluring. He thought of her usual bubbling confidence and vitality and couldn’t see it anywhere. A supernova had shed its skin and left a white dwarf in its place. She was every bit as beautiful but the polarity had been reversed.
She closed her eyes to kiss him and Unt did the same, his first kiss coming to him through the red of closed eyelids. Their blind lips pressed without passion. From her, there was nothing, but for Unt the gentle pressure was a button-press. Some engine within him fired and demanded more. It wanted to drink deep from her, to suck up from a well of lust. He forced the urge down but he could feel it rumbling within him.
“You are now joined,” Mephis’ blunt words had the literal opposite effect as Crystal moved away.
As though moving in a group trance, the assembly turned to the podium. They were held under a spell that only the right words could unlock. “The ceremony is over,” said Mephis, “We will now proceed to the Festive Hall for the traditional dance.”
7. A Dance Macabre
Mephis stood down and disappeared from view, like she’d never been there. For a moment, all was still. Then, somewhere, someone moved and it was the rolling pebble that starts an avalanche. Together, they all made their shuffling way toward the Festive Hall and as they did, conversations began all over.
A few cautious whispers grew into excited noises and then became a loudly rolling bustle. As they walked, couples talked between themselves, or to neighbouring couples, or even couples a good distance away. Families shouted to their children and in most cases, the children shouted back. Unt and Crystal were silent.
They were part of the press of casually moving bodies but they were like an island apart. Actually, they were like two islands, maybe with a shallow channel running between them. They certainly weren’t a whole.
The ceremonial cord still bound them but Crystal’s hand was so light in his it was almost ethereal. Unt tried not to dwell on it and tried to let himself be distracted by the noise and movement around him. Whenever his eyes were elsewhere, he felt that Crystal was looking at him but whenever he looked back she was staring resolutely ahead. Unt was sure she was doing that mysterious womanly trick: the sidelong glance that didn’t need their eyes to meet at all.
As they closed upon the door to the hall and people squashed tighter, the social weather system around them finally broke into their strange and awkward isolation. Unt’s friends slapped his back or wrung his hand. They passed their good wishes to Crystal and their new wives joined in. No-one, it seemed, was coming up to Crystal for the sake of friendship with her.
Maybe, Unt thought, it was because she had already shared her disappointment with her friends and they knew not to congratulate her. But then he remembered the night before the Fall when he, Mélie, Bull and Olissa had stumbled into her and Rob.
The girls had been cold to her then. Maybe she had no real friends. Girls were a funny lot and maybe now they were no longer classmates they were having their revenge for all the admiring looks she’d monopolised. They would hurt her simply by cutting her loose.
* * * *
Inside,
the Festive Hall was covered in bunting to match the red and yellow of the couples’ clothes. The varnished wooden floor was filled with idling bodies, all in the same uniform colours. Unt and Crystal skirted the periphery, going with the flow of the other arrivals.
On the opposite side of the hall to the entrance, the broad stage was piled with chairs and instruments but the band had yet to take its place. Down the right-hand side, trestle tables were covered with heaped plates of food and on the left were the doors that connected to the building’s side entrance.
Those doors had just opened and the couples’ families were now flowing in through them. They had been waiting impatiently and they rushed in with good-humoured enthusiasm. They came in as a solid block - the only thing in the room to break the colour scheme - and they crashed against the central huddle, disintegrating it and diluting the remains. The ceremonial fussiness was washed away and the event became a proper celebration.
In the middle of the activity, Unt and Crystal stopped. “What do you want to do?” he ventured uncertainly.
“I don’t know,” were her first words back. She spoke quietly but not in a whisper. It was a polite, pleasant veneer that gave away nothing of what she was thinking.
“Do you want to go and speak to your parents?” he tried.
She looked over quickly, as though there’d been mention of a rescue, but as she saw no-one and her thinking mind caught up, she seemed to remember they couldn't save her and quickly fell back in her shell.
“I don’t think they’re here yet,” she said, “But yes, I suppose we should.”
She went back to looking. Unt joined in but quickly realised his folly. “You’ll have to point them out,” he said, “I don’t think I’ve met them.”
The Fall of Chance Page 14