Chapter 10

Present Day

I broke off the kiss, keeping my hands on Scott’s shoulders. My lips stayed close to his for whenever the urge struck again. “So what do you want me to do? And wouldn’t your bedroom be a better place to do it in?” I tried, as best I could, to keep the seductive Noosemeister purr out of my voice. I could be as real as I wanted with him. This was Scott.

I sensed the nervous tightness in his voice at his next words, and frowned. Something big was happening, aside from the obvious. “You could take off that slave collar.”

I blinked, and backed away slightly. “Well, yeah, I could. But why? It’s just saying I belong to you. Don’t you want that?”

“Of course I do, but in a different way.” He slipped out of my arms and moved to a nearby desk, picking up a paper from it. “I released you from slavery. You’re a free woman.”

I backed off a full step. In a choked, raspy voice, I asked, “What??”

“I would have taken you downtown today to do it, but it can’t all be done in one day. They have to verify ownership in city records, see if there are any other claims on you—stuff like that. They did find a slavery agreement between you and your brother on file, but it never went into effect.” He handed me the paper. “But you’re free now ... What’s wrong?” The tightness in his voice increased.

I was staring at the document, shaking my head. “You did this without asking me?” I couldn’t believe it. The Scott I had known would never have done this.

“Well, technically, you know, as long as you were a slave, you didn’t have any legal standing to give permission for...”

“The hell with the legal niceties! The hell with whether the city cares what I want! Don’t you care what I want??” A warm breeze floated through an open window, fluttering the curtain. I heard splashing and high-pitched giggles through the window. The boys must have decided on a swim before lunch, oblivious to the drama Scott and I were creating. “Scott, I’m a slave for a reason!” I was shaking, and didn’t care whether he saw. I wanted him to know how angry I was. Four years of striving toward a single goal, and he thought I would be happy to throw it all away for a life I’d never wanted?

He started to approach me and then backed away, in obvious distress. Clearly this wasn’t going as he’d anticipated at all. “But you have to be free, to be able to...” He stopped.

“To what? To do what?” I took a step toward him, my fists clenched.

“To ... Well, I was hoping ... Amy, will you marry me?” He wiped his forehead with his sleeve. “I was picturing that coming out a lot smoother.”

I froze, my jaw dropping. It all makes sense now. At least from his point of view. Why can’t he see mine? Why doesn’t he know what he’s asking me to give up? I realized I was slowly shaking my head, and decided to keep on.

“Amy ... say something. Please?” He was gnawing his lip, nearly wearing a hole in it.

I buried my face in my hands and began crying, my shoulders shaking in great heaves. The one person outside the Academy I trusted, and now look what he’s done. Sniffling, I stammered out between sobs, “You ... you ... you always understood me before. When you, when we ... In the first two minutes after we first met, didn’t I tell you we couldn’t have a long-term relationship? Didn’t I tell you I was going to be a Noosemeister? You understood, you always understood!” I took a deep breath to calm myself, and said with as much dignity as I could muster. “Scott, take me home. Now.”

His voice as choked as mine, he said, “I ... okay. I think I know where your dad lives...”

“No!” I clenched my jaw, trying to stop my lips from quivering. “The Academy is my home! And I’ll never leave it again!” I started crying again. After all those goodbyes, it’s going to be so humiliating to return. And the Dean will be so mad! He’ll have to give Benjamin his money back. But I’ll never trust anyone outside the Academy again. I’ll ask the Dean to hang me at a party. He can at least charge extra and get something out of it. Not nearly as much as Grant, but...

My legs felt weak. I realized I was choosing to give up my dream of ever having a hanging like Miranda’s.

Scott was crying as well, now. “Amy, all those people coming tomorrow ... what do I tell them?”

I clenched my fists at my sides. “I don’t care! Inviting people to a wedding reception before you even asked the bride—just tell them you did that!”

He blinked. “Amy, none of them were invited to a wedding reception. They have no idea about that.”

I stopped sobbing for a moment, trying to understand what he said. It just didn’t make sense. “They have no ... What is it they think they’re coming for?”

He stared at me for several seconds, then let out a long, “Ohhhhh.” The corners of his lips turned up in the ghost of a smile. What was this about? “I see what the problem is. I’ve been planning this so long, I somehow figured you’d automatically know ... Okay, I need to make myself clear.”

He walked over to the window, and pulled aside the curtain. “I want you to see something.”

I came to look, grudgingly, but curious.

There was the pool a short distance away, and a building near it —the guesthouse, I assumed. Melissa, Jana, and Runner were in the pool, naked, playing some sort of game with a large inflated ball.

But I could only spare a little of my attention for my friends. Much nearer stood a stage, with a standard Academy hanging platform, and a noose above it, swaying gently in the breeze.

I couldn’t help being calmed by the sight. Quietly, wiping my eyes, still sniffling, I asked, “So what’s that there for?”

Scott laughed briefly. “What do you think it’s for? Who do you think it’s for?”

I continued staring at it. “But ... so what’s all this stuff about getting married?”

“That’s for today. Then tomorrow, when everybody comes for the hanging, we can start it with the wedding party, a surprise for the guests, and then hang you, just as you’ve always wanted.”

I turned toward him, frowning, but excitement was beginning to bubble within me. I had to make sure I was understanding this. “You want to hang me as your wife?”

“Sure. Lots of folk hang their wives or husbands when it’s time for them to become thanerone.”

“But not at the wedding party! I’ve never heard of that!”

He grinned. “Isn’t it cool?”

“Scott...” My mind was spinning. “This is ... Is this really what you want?”

“What I hope is that it’s what you want. Amy, look at me a minute.” He took both my hands in his, and he took a breath. “Amy, I’m sorry I made such a mess of explaining this. Let me try to do it better.

“When you left for the Academy, I was so happy for you, it didn’t leave much room for thinking about myself. It was all true, what I’d been saying about being happy with the memories. But it all seemed ... incomplete. There was something really missing.

“Then one day, after maybe a year, I was thinking about you again, like I did a lot, and thinking about that last phone call, where you said you loved me. And as I thought about it, the idea went through me, man, if I could just be married to you for one day, that would last me a lifetime. It was ... Just sort of a throwaway thought, a fairy tale kind of thing. But then I started thinking more about it, and I realized how well it fit with you being a Noosemeister, so that it could be exactly what you wanted too. And the ... completeness. I knew we’d have it then.

“Of course, I wasn’t sure how I could manage it. But Dad goes to those Academy parties all the time, and I finally talked it over with him. In case you’re wondering, he had no idea you had any connection with me when he first met you. It wasn’t until about a year ago, around the time I graduated from the university, that I explained it all to him. He found out you weren’t available yet, and told me he’d probably need to purchase an option on you right then, so somebody else wouldn’t buy you first. And I said, fine, I’ll pay for that too.”

I blinked. “Too? What are you ... Scott, you’re paying for all this? Not your dad?”

“Oh! I guess I did skip over that part. Amy, I couldn’t have my dad buy a wife for me! So I worked it out with him. I’ve been working at his company since I graduated, and all of my salary goes back to him. For this. I get to eat and sleep here, and I get a little allowance if I want to go to a movie or something, but the rest of it is for this. After the option, and buying you, it works out to me owing him about two more years.”

I looked at him wide-eyed, my jaw hanging open. “Scott ... you ... You’re giving up everything you earn for three years of your life, just to be married to me for one day? And then to host an Academy Noosemeister party to hang me?”

He bit his lip again even though it was bruised from earlier, but looked less nervous now. “Oh, Dad’s paying for the party—it’s traditional for the parents to pay for a wedding party. So ... What do you think?”

I stared at him for what must have been a full thirty seconds. Just as his nervousness appeared to be returning, I said, barely above a whisper, “I think that is the ... most ... romantic ... thing I’ve ever heard of.”

“So will you...” He stopped as I reached behind my neck, unfastened my choker, and set it gently on the table. I smiled at him.

He cleared his throat. “So is that a yes ... ufff!” He was cut off as I threw myself at him, my arms squeezing him tight, tighter, my lips on his once more.

When I broke off the kiss at last, he tried again. “Will you marry me?”

I laughed with the greatest pure joy I’d ever felt. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes. Now shut up.” I kissed him for a long time.

I had heard that the city marriage office was nice, but I didn’t quite expect such beauty in the middle of the utilitarian drabness of City Hall. One minute Scott and I were walking, holding hands, through a dim, featureless corridor with doors sporting pebbled frosted-glass windows with division names and room numbers stenciled in paint. Next moment we passed through a door marked “Marriages,” into something resembling an island paradise—it reminded me of Purity Island, only much prettier, and without the menacing farmers ready to force me into captivity as a work slave.

The room was lit pleasantly by fixtures hidden in wooden planter boxes along the wall. The walls were cream-colored, with darker swirls in a wood-grain pattern. The floor was richly carpeted with flower boxes randomly-distributed in a riot of colors. A miniature forest of bonsai trees was visible behind one of the side walls. Birds chirped happily in the branches. The sound system piped in quiet music, a tune I found myself still humming hours later.

There was a counter near the back of the room opposite the entry door, with a cheerful girl sitting behind it, about twenty-five, slightly pudgy. “Here to be married? ... Yeah, I can tell you meant to be here.” An engraved nameplate in front of her read, “Cynthia Bowen.”

Scott and I stopped at the counter, and smiled at the woman. “That obvious, huh?”

Cynthia laughed, and then looked at me admiringly. “That is such a cute top. I wish I could wear something like that.” She sighed, and went on, “Anyway, have you got your blood test forms?”

I gasped, and looked at Scott. Blood tests! In the whirl of emotion, I had totally forgotten.

Without hesitating, Scott pulled a folded form from his pocket and handed it to her. I started to ask, and decided to wait ‘til later.

After looking over the form, Cynthia smiled and pulled out a sheet of paper from below the counter. “Just fill this out, and I need you both to sign here, and date it. You need to sign in front of me. I’m legally authorized to witness.”

Scott took the form, and thanked her; he led me to a small circular table in the corner of the office next to the “forest.” The table was covered by a brightly-colored umbrella—indoors! Karl took a seat nearby.

Scott began filling in the form. I leaned close and whispered, “When did I do a blood test?”

He smiled and whispered back, “You had one on file from four years ago. They wouldn’t tell me what was in it, but they could clear it in coordination with my own test.”

The one I did for Andrew! That explained it. “Ummm ... what would you have done if it hadn’t been there?”

He shrugged, while writing. “I’d been figuring to ask your Dean to test you at the Academy on some pretext. He knew what I was planning. Where were you born?”

Yes, the Dean would have had to know. It was no easier keeping secrets from the Dean than from Runner. I looked at the line Scott had arrived at on the form. “City Hospital.”

“What’s your date of birth?”

I told him, and he continued filling in the rest of the form.

We returned to the counter. The clerk spent a moment typing on a keyboard. After clicking the computer mouse a few times, she said, “It looks like Miss Cameron was a slave until being freed just last week.” She gasped and looked up at Scott, her mouth curled up in a smile. “Did you buy her so you could get married?”

Scott smiled back. “Basically, yeah.” Clearly he’d decided there was no reason to go into greater detail.

Cynthia grinned at him, then at me. “That is so neat!”

The girl turned the form back around and pushed it toward us. Scott signed the form, then I did, my hands shaking slightly. She produced an official stamp, used it, and then signed the form herself. Afterward she looked up. “It’s kind of traditional to say this—Anyway, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

I turned to Scott, my heart pounding, and kissed him. He broke it off, grinning. “I’ve got something here.”

I laughed. “I’m sure you do.” Still shaking slightly, I watched as Scott pulled a small, felt-covered box from his pocket, and opened it. I gasped. “Oh, it’s beautiful!”

The ring must have added some significant expense toward the debt Scott was slowly working off. As he slipped it onto my finger, it occurred to me that at least he could get some of the money back by reselling it—except, I knew, he would never do that. I started to ask, “What are...”

With Noosemeister-like perception, he interrupted me. “Necklace.” My head, wherever he decided to display it, would wear the ring from a necklace around my neck.

He continued holding my newly be-ringed hand, took a deep breath, and grinned. “Hey, Mrs. Smith.”

I thought about responding, “Hey, Mr. Smith,” but Scott had always been that, and it didn’t seem terribly original anyway. I gave him a long kiss instead.

Cynthia murmured, “I love this job.”

Riding in the limo, with Karl driving, I sat with my hand curled around Scott’s, my head on his shoulder. I reached up with my free hand to scratch a momentary itch on my throat, and reflected on how odd it felt not to be wearing anything around my neck.

A sudden thought made me sit upright, with a gasp.

Scott was immediately concerned. “Honey? Everything okay?”

I frowned for a moment, ignoring him, and then smiled and squeezed his hand as the solution occurred to me. “Yeah, it’s okay, or at least easy to fix. You must have got an outfit for me for tomorrow, right?”

“Oh, sure. Is that what you were worried about?”

I shook my head. “I just need a ... fashion accessory, to go with it. I don’t suppose it came with a choker.”

“Ummm ... you brought a choker...”

“No, I don’t want that one. That one said you’re my owner, and...” I laughed suddenly. “ ... and I’ll bet the color doesn’t go with the dress. I haven’t seen a lot of brown bridal dresses lately. Could we go by wherever the shop is where you bought the suit and see if we can get a choker that will go with it?”

Scott looked lost. “What for?”

I explained.

Four Years Ago

I smiled. “There’s never any guarantees. I don’t know if I’ll even graduate. All I know is that when I do go, whether it’s as a graduate, or at a demo or a party, you’ll be there with me.”

Susan turned to look at me. “What do you mean?”

I fingered the envelope on my desk. Susan knew what was in it—she’d seen me collect it at the hair salon. “When I’m hanged, I’m going to have this lock of your hair wrapped around my collar. You’ll be just a couple of inches away from the rope.”

Susan put her arms around me and squeezed tight, tears running freely from her eyes now. “Shit. I wasn’t going to cry, but that is just so sweet. Thank you.”

Present Day

Scott looked at me in wonder. “So this is to keep a promise to a girl you knew for a month, who died three years ago?”

I nodded vigorously.

Scott grinned. “No wonder I married you.” He kissed me. I let my lips melt against his, holding the kiss a long time.

We entered the Smith house—No, our house—holding hands. As soon as the front door closed behind us, Scott paused and took my hand.

“Now that we’re married, there’s one more thing I’d like to ask of you.”

“What’s that,” I asked, kissing him.

“A baby. Your baby. I’d like us to have a child together.”

I felt myself tearing up again. “Oh, Scott ... you did it again! How can you do that twice in one day?

“Do what?” Scott looked puzzled.

“Come up with the most romantic thing I ever heard of. You’ve freed me, married me, we’re going to have a night of total bliss, and then you’re going to hang me ... And now you say you’ll raise my child after I’m gone. How do you come up with these things?”

“But I wasn’t trying to be romantic or anything. I just asked for what I want. All of it. Well, the hanging is for you, —but that makes me happy because it makes you happy. But part of a marriage is having children—or at least it often includes that—and I’d like to have that too.

“So,” he finished, “What do you say?”

“But Scott, by midafternoon you’re going to be single again. You have to work to pay for ... for me and my hanging. Who is going to raise the baby?

“Well, I mentioned the idea to Dad, and he brought up the same objection. I didn’t really have an answer, so I dropped the subject. But the next morning, Matty dropped a bombshell at breakfast. He said that he and Sharon would be happy to help raise my child. More than happy ... They wanted it more than anything except being together. So if it was okay with Dad for them to spend part of their time on my child ... Well ... you know Dad, he said it was okay without even taking time to think about it.

“Yes, but being raised by a nanny, even two nannies, isn’t the same as being raised by your parents—or even a single dad.”

“But that was the point. Sharon doesn’t just want to be a nanny. She wants to be my child’s mother. Not genetically, of course, but she and Matty would raise him as their child, sharing the job with me like a blended family: Father and Mother and ... Mom’s second husband. And if they ever decide to ask Dad to let them have a son of their own, he’d be our son’s little brother. So, will you have a baby with me?”