Rod stopped listening. He was standing at the groom’s right as best man. His duties had not been onerous but now he found that he had an overwhelming desire to sneeze. He worked his features around, then in desperation rubbed his upper lip violently and overcame it. He sighed silently and was glad for the first time that Grant Cowper had this responsibility. Grant seemed to know the right words and he did not.
The bride was attended by Caroline Mshiyeni. Both girls carried bouquets of a flame-colored wild bloom. Caroline was in shorts and shirt as usual and the bride was dressed in the conventional blue denim trousers and overshirt. Her hair was arranged en brosse; her scrubbed face shone in the firelight and she was radiantly beautiful.
“Who giveth this woman?”
Jimmy Throxton stepped forward and said hoarsely, “I do!”
“The ring, please.”
Rod had it on his little finger; with considerable fumbling he got it off. It was a Ponce de Leon senior-class ring, borrowed from Bill Kennedy. He handed it to Cowper.
“Carmen Eleanora, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, for better and for worse, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?”
“I do.”
“Robert Edward, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? Will you keep her and cherish her, cleaving unto her only, until death do you part?”
“I do. I mean, I will. Both.”
“Take her hand in yours. Place the ring on her finger. Repeat after me Rod’s sneeze was coming back again; he missed part of it.
“so, by authority vested in me as duly elected Chief Magistrate of this sovereign community, I pronounce you man and wife! Kiss her, chum, before I beat you to it.”
Carol and Jackie both were crying; Rod wondered what had gone wrong. He missed his turn at kissing the bride, but she turned to him presently, put an arm around his neck and kissed him. He found himself shaking hands with Bob very solemnly. “Well, I guess that does it. Don’t forget you are supposed to carry her through the door.”
“I won’t forget.”
“Well, you told me to remind you. Uh, may the Principle bless you both.”
10 “I So Move”
There was no more talk of leaving. Even Caroline dropped the subject.
But on other subjects talk was endless. Cowper held a town meeting every evening. These started with committee reports the committee on food resources and natural conservation, the committees on artifacts and inventory, on waste disposal and camp sanitation, on exterior security, on human resources and labor allotment, on recruitment and immigration, on conservation of arts and sciences, on constitution, codification, and justice, on food preparation, on housing and city planning Cowper seemed to enjoy the endless talk and Rod was forced to admit that the others appeared to have a good time, too he surprised himself by discovering that he too looked forward to the evenings. It was the village’s social life, the only recreation. Each session produced wordy battles, personal remarks and caustic criticisms; what was lacking in the gentlemanly formality found in older congresses was made up in spice. Rod liked to sprawl on the ground with his ear near Jimmy Throxton and listen to Jimmy’s slanderous asides about the intelligence, motives, and ancestry of each speaker. He waited for Caroline’s disorderly heckling.
But Caroline was less inclined to heckle now; Cowper had appointed her Historian on discovering that she owned a diary and could take shorthand. “It is extremely important,” he informed her in the presence of the village, “that we have a full record of these pioneer days for posterity. You’ve been writing in your diary every day?”
“Sure. That’s what it’s for.”
“Good! From here on it will be an official account. I want you to record the important events of each day.”
“All right. It doesn’t make the tiniest bit of difference, I do anyhow.”
“Yes, yes, but in greater detail. I want you to record our proceedings, too. Historians will treasure this document, Carol.”
“I’ll bet!”
Cowper seemed lost in thought. “How many blank leaves left in your diary?”