The
class was over. He was sitting at one of the park’s wood
tables-for-eight. It was easy to ignore the feeling of hunger; he was
used to it. Rain clouds were gathering. He would sit and read until
the first rain drops.
He
had been on the run as a hunted political refugee in his own country
and across other countries for so many years. Nowadays, he was still
not used to feeling safe, despite the process to full citizenship he
had been recently granted by the Government of this great Democracy.
In another short five years he would be free of the fear of being
deported. That sure reality-to-come helped deeply whenever he sat
still and quietly out in the open, alone.
He
did not notice her approaching because he was reading through some of
the pamphlets the instructor had handed out during the class session.
“Hello.
May I?” “Of course. Free country, and all that. Not to
mention the many other tables around where nobody sits.” She
smiled pleasantly as she placed items on the table. “I bought
enough for two at the cafeteria. Care to share?” “Glad
to.” She moved items to him across the table. She sat on the
table seat opposite him. They ate while chatting.
She
indicated his pamphlets, “I, too, am in that class.” “A
few minutes ago?” “Uh-huh. You didn’t see me?”
“Sorry. No.” “No need to apologize. You said in
class that you are a political refugee. Less than a year. Your former
Government is trying to get this one to extradite you.” “Yes.”
“You
have to be extra careful about making friends.” “Yes.” They ate, in
silence for some seconds.
She
continued, “You can trust me. Until you spoke about your
country in class today, I did not know your country exists. If they
tried to recruit me to spy on you, I would agree, for a large price,
and I would give all the money to you. And you and I would have fun
spinning tales about your clandestine activities against them. Even
give them photographs of you and me together, secretly plotting.”
He
was pleased to join in her game, “No photographs. Everything
else about us, but no photographs.” She showed her agreement by
raising her cup to him, and drinking a little.
He
continued, “And I would save the money you gave me. And when it
accumulated to a huge sum, I would run away one ‘dark and
stormy night.’” They laughed. She leaned a little towards
him across the table, and softly and conspiratorially, teased “You
would run away without me?”
It
took a second-or-two before he thought up his lame playful reply, “It
would be allowed since, first, you made it clear you would not be in
it for the money. And, second, if I absconded without you, those
secret agents couldn’t suspect you had been playing them for
fools.” “Good enough.”
After
a short silence during which they looked at each other, somewhat
mischievously, she continued. “Want to hear my just and
entirely and purely business offer?” “My refugee anxiety
is tingling. I am on full alert to flee.”
“I
understand. However, you are now in a great Democracy. Freedom of
choice to disagree, with no consequences, is always the first order
of business here.” A few seconds of silence passed.
“Okay.
I have to try to accept this democratic way of life. This will be my
first opportunity to try. Thank you. Go ahead. Just business.”
“Entirely.
Purely. Just business. Thank you. Just as you are in a tight fix,
politically, I am in one in my family. My business offer to you will
help the both of us.”
“I
cannot relate to family matters because I have never had a family. I
was orphaned when I was a child during one of the countless violently
political confrontations in my former country.”
“There!
Already we start off as equals, because I am totally and utterly
incapable of understanding anything political, even in this great
Democracy where I was born and where I have lived all my life.”
She
offered her hand to him across the table; he readily accepted. They
shook hands firmly and briefly. “Speak your business offer,
partner.”
“I
am an adopted child. There are six born to our parents after I had
been adopted. I heard that I had been adopted in a desperate attempt
to save a marriage doomed because there were no children, despite
years of trying.” “And after the adoption, the flood
gates opened and gushed unstoppable.” “Uh-huh.”
“I’ve heard about that happening at times.”
“By
my family’s strict religion, because I am adopted, I cannot
inherit one-seventh of my family’s considerable wealth. Added
to that disadvantage, Mother Nature, ironically and spitefully, has
robbed me of the capacity to have children. Therefore, by our strict
family religion, I have, most likely, no chance of marriage. I
understand; no intelligent man would be willing to share my
Mother-Nature curse.”
“The
story of your life is as dismal as mine. How about I take a stab at
guessing what your business offer is?” “Okay. Guess.”
“You
and I marry. In that way we will be helping each other through our
separate curses and other deprivations”
“Very
good, so far. There is more. In our religion, marriage will outweigh
mere adoption. When I am married, I qualify to inherit the
one-seventh.”
“A
practical solution. I will accept
your entirely-purely-just- business offer if you come up with a plan
how to safely ignore your family religion if your business offer
comes into conflict with your family religion. You need not tell me
which religion that is. I have no religion. Back in my country in our
struggle for political equality, there were many among us of a
god-religion that they chose to obey when their religion came into
conflict with their struggle for political freedom against our
tyrannical Government. Their fear of their god always far outweighed
their passion for political freedom.”
“My
religion is only a factor while I am living with my family in our
Community. In my religion and Community, an unmarried female is worth
nearly-nothing. In my case, that nearly-nothing is even less because
I am adopted. I am without lineal family pedigree; without family
heritage. Even during family prayers, I am not permitted to be heard;
and my god, too, is at peace with that. That nearly nothing became
utterly nothing and shameful because of that Mother-Nature curse I
mentioned.”
By
now, they had eaten all the food. Both reflexly began collecting
table things, for garbage disposal.
“My
religion will mean nothing to me when I have left my family and my
Community, as I plan to do when I reach the legal age of maturity
next year. Everybody in my family will eagerly grant my request that
I find paid employment and go live alone, far away.”
There
was a long and serious silence. He was careful to not sound
ungrateful, “You mentioned your just-business proposal would
benefit both of us. How would marriage benefit me, business-wise?”
She
purposely took her time taking a sip, before answering, “Instant
full citizenship by marrying a citizen-by-birth.”
His
heartbeat quickened, and thumped harder; his breathing became shallow
in brief bits. He spoke softly and insecurely, “When do we
get married?” “As soon as possible after I leave home. We
will go live somewhere virtually impossible for my family and agents
of your former Government to find us.”
“You
said marriage would restore your right to one-seventh.”
“Yes.
I’m hoping to never need it. Ever.”
He
tried to sound playful, “As your husband, would I not have a
say?”
She
returned his smile, hoping he would not insist she reply. Mother
Nature rescued her. Thunder broke. The first rain drops fell.
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