Island IV – Meetings · Part 6

Island IV – Meetings · Part 6 (6/21)
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happens my views on relationships are in general alignment with our little society here on Isla Del Sur, so it seems I was the ideal candidate.”

Which was true enough. The recruiter had done his research on Ralph. As a lawyer the legal system on the Island was fascinating. As a man with archaic views on gender-specific roles, at least by modern standards, he was drawn to the prospect of all the Island had to offer.

“That brings us up to today. The whole concept of owning a woman, complete with a binding contract and all the attendant legal infrastructure to enforce it, as a lawyer I admit I find it enticing. I trust this is not a shocking revelation to you, given where we live and the premise of that internet app?”

Erin actually smiled at his question. “No, sir. I too find the prospect appealing, but as I’m sure you know the devil is always in negotiating the details. Do you mind if I ask you to continue, about yourself? You are answering many of my questions. I promise I’ll still be here when you finish, and I’ll be ready to share my side.”

“It’s a deal. So, just who is Ralph Welk, and what goes on inside his head?” The initial meeting was going much better than he expected. Even though he was doing all the talking he’d been right to take the assertive approach right from the start. She was clearly at ease now. Now all I have to do is remember not to be overbearing and obnoxious. For an attorney that was quite a challenge.

“If I had to pick one word, I’d have to go with ‘caveman’ as the best description. I like being the one in charge, a personality type that’s not in short supply here on the Island. I’m at the opposite end of the spectrum from the ‘woke’ ideal of relationships. My version is closer to, oh, say 1950, or maybe 1850. I believe in gender-specific roles, heresy in our modern times. My job, as the man, is to be head of the family. I take the risks, I gather the resources, I provide security and stand between the world and my family, protecting them from harm. If that kind of paternalism isn’t pure Neanderthal, I’ll turn in my club.”

Erin started laughing. “I’m sorry, sir, it’s just that I’ve never heard it put so, um, bluntly before now. Trust me, I’m not making fun of the caveman description.” She brushed off some imaginary lint on her skirt, drawing his eyes to the line the dark blue fabric drew across her legs, slightly above her knees. “We share a common set of core beliefs, sir. I would say I’d choose 1950 over 1850, purely on practical grounds. I like having electricity, running water and sliced bread.”

It was Ralph’s turn to laugh. “No argument there. I may be a caveman in spirit, but I like my creature comforts. I like to think I operate on the moral principle of enlightened selfishness. What I want is important, but it’s tempered by a pragmatic view that includes those closest to me. Fair warning, under the terms of an Island agreement, I take that ‘property’ clause seriously. I’m very possessive, which inevitably leads to being dominating. I have no qualms about making my wishes known, and demanding they be followed. I don’t mean to sound overbearing, only that order and structure are important to me.”

Ralph stopped when he realized he was getting ahead of himself. He was starting to think of Erin in terms of being her owner, and that was going too far.

She must have sensed his sudden hesitation. “I find those to be desirable qualities, sir. If a man truly values what he owns, he should take whatever measures are necessary to keep his property. The methods he employs should be at his discretion even if it includes imposing a code of conduct, the framework he believes is essential in maintaining that order and structure.”

He hadn’t gone too far after all. Based on what she was saying they had much in common, though they approached it from different points of view.

Her Side “Sir? You are very considerate, giving me time to feel comfortable with you. I don’t mean to interrupt. With your permission I’m ready to talk about myself, unless you prefer to continue.”

She’s asking for permission? Maybe he hadn’t gone far enough. “Of course, go ahead. I didn’t mean to monopolize the conversation.”

“Thank you, sir. My background is growing up in a military family. My father was the navigation officer on what’s called a ‘boomer’, a nuclear missile submarine. He was absent for months at a time, patrolling somewhere at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean. We could send him occasional messages, a few lines in a telegraph format. It’s a limitation of being in that kind of submarine. They usually can’t respond; it would give away their position.

“When not on patrol he’d be home almost every day, if he wasn’t out on a training exercise. He was a good father, but he knew the only way to hold our family together while he was absent was discipline. Discipline in the sense of we all knew where our responsibilities lay, and how important it was we were committed to meeting our obligations.

“I know, it sounds like a terrible home life, but for me I thrived in that environment. I looked forward to the day my dad would come home. He was so patient, listening to me tell him all about how good I had been. Those were the happiest times of my life. I never wanted it to end, so when I left home to venture out on my own, I had no idea how vulnerable I was.”

She reached up to push a wisp of hair out of her face. “You might guess what happened. Each guy I moved in with turned out to be worse than the one before. In one respect I was successful, learning all about the ins and outs of running the restaurant where I worked. I went from afternoon cashier to general manager in three years.

“The better conditions improved at work, the worse it got at home. I was an emotional wreck when a girlfriend told me about Isla Del Sur. I didn’t believe her at first. In the meantime, I hit an all-time low. Unless I wanted to become another police statistic, I had to do something.”

It all made sense now, using “sir”, asking for permission, it wasn’t deliberate. In Erin’s world that was normal. If anyone belonged on the Island it had to be her.

“That’s what brought me to this park bench, sir. By the way, you were the first to pass my little compatibility test.”

A test? Ralph had no idea what she meant, and said as much.

“I doubt you noticed, sir. As soon as I asked if it was you, what happened? You took over, though in a very low-key way. You showed me where to sit, you set the agenda, and you immediately recognized how nervous and unsure I was by shifting the conversation to yourself. Very skillfully done, sir; I found myself responding without even thinking about it. I don’t believe you realize how persuasive you can be, at least for someone like me. Unless that’s what lawyers are supposed to do?”

Ralph was feeling more optimistic about this meeting by the minute. That’s when it stuck him that, in her own unique manner, Erin was doing exactly the same thing. She was building up his confidence, putting him at ease, using her innate talents in reading people. He couldn’t call it manipulation since it was more akin to drawing out his best qualities.

This was a first for Ralph. What he initially mistook for weakness was anything but. If he wasn’t careful, she could put thoughts in his head and convince him it was all his own idea. The irony was, though he could see it happening, he wanted more. Was she seducing him with a power against which he had no defense?

“Your caveman, sir, doesn’t scare me. On the contrary, long as you don’t drag me around by the hair, I’d be right at home in your cave. You gather those resources, sir, and I’ll do my best in making use of them to create a warm, cozy home. You are the provider, so of course you are in charge. Possessive, controlling? I certainly hope so. The lack of those qualities is a definite deal breaker.”

This is too good to be true. “Maybe I should be asking what we don’t agree on.” Ralph watched her, trying to gauge how she would answer.

“Since you ask, sir, I have a fear of being punished in certain ways. Specifically, being beaten, either by hand or with a whip. I have this image in my head from those American Civil War movies, the exaggerated brutality of the callous Southern plantation overseer. Don’t get the wrong impression, if I fail to carry out reasonable assignments, or I willfully disobey orders, disregard unambiguous rules, there must be consequences to discourage bad behavior.”

“There are provisions in an Island Agreement where objectionable issues can be listed and legally excluded. You can…”

“No!” Her sudden and emphatic reaction caught Ralph by surprise. “Sir, I apologize again for interrupting. This is a subject where we disagree. I would never sign an ownership agreement that placed restrictions on my owner. To me that represents an admission of failure from the start. As an attorney I understand you view that it’s a reasonable approach in a contract. It isn’t to my taste. If I cannot trust the man whose name is on that Agreement then I shouldn’t have signed it.”

Ralph had to concede she had a point. “You may be right. When drawing up business contracts there are certain principles that have to be followed for it to stand up in court. Contract Law 101: both parties must come to a meeting of the minds; the terms must not discriminate against one party; and something of value must be exchanged. You reminded me that for a relationship Agreement the part about not discriminating can be complicated. I’m still learning about the intricacies of the laws governing us here on the Island.”

Ralph pointed over his shoulder to a coffee shop across the street from the park. “Would you like a cup of coffee? Let’s go over there and continue our discussion about agreements.”

“I’d love to, Sir. Full disclosure, you should know I am very, umm,” she paused, “selfish about how I sign away my freedom. I’ve gone through the classes, I know about the three levels, starting with one year. What I’m looking for is a rapid progression toward the end goal of a permanent arrangement. I don’t want half way measures, sir. Either the commitment is for a lifetime or not at all. If that’s a dealbreaker for you, please tell me now.”

Forward Or Out Ralph took a sip from his coffee cup while listening to Erin. “You can understand, sir, I might come across as a little on the self-centered side. I’m being honest in what I’m looking for if I become a man’s property. I’m not what you would call a strong-willed woman. I don’t handle stress or conflict very well. I don’t think of myself as the ‘high maintenance’ type either, though I readily admit I need to depend on my man to take care of me.

“Not many men can handle the dependency issue. That’s why I’m naturally cautious. The first month or two isn’t bad, but how many will still be there for me a year, or ten, down the line? I’m sure that’s why all my prior relationships have failed so badly. Maybe it isn’t fair, or reasonable to demand so much but that’s who I am, and I don’t apologize for it.”

Ralph marveled at the woman sitting across from him. He felt embarrassed at his preconceptions before meeting her. Subconsciously he’d always associated submissive with being shy, passive rather than assertive, unwilling or unable to speak in a blunt, forthright manner. Erin turned out to be none of the above, yet in ways that did not challenge him.

He set down his cup, leaned forward and placed his hands on the table. “You touched on a subject near and dear to me. That possessive streak? One of the ways it shows up is building a sense of dependency on me that is so overpowering my grip is unbreakable. Normally that’s about as bad as it gets in a relationship. I’m sure that’s why I also had no success with women back in Wyoming. Here on the Island, different standards apply. What would ordinarily be a disgusting, repulsive personality trait suddenly turns into a positive.”

Erin wrapped her hands around her cup but didn’t take a drink. Without thinking Ralph put a stop to it. “Unless you plan on actually drinking that coffee you will keep your hands on the table.” It was way out of line; she didn’t belong to him. He regretted the impulse immediately but it was too late to retract.

Instead of becoming angry her hands went down flat on the tabletop. “I’m sorry, sir. Now that I know, it won’t happen again.”

This isn’t right, I’m moving way too fast, and she isn’t trying to slow me down. Ralph had to do something before he went too far.

“Erin, look at me.” Her wide-eyed expression only confirmed his apprehensions. “This is how we will proceed.” He reached for his wallet and took out a business card. On the back he wrote down his personal phone number and email address. “This is my direct contact information. I want you to go straight home and think about our meeting today. Look at it objectively, consider what I’ve said. Tomorrow, if you sincerely believe we should keep talking, at exactly one o’clock you will call me. If you don’t call, I will assume there is to be no further contact between us. We’ll part on amicable terms and go our separate ways.”

“And if I do call, sir?”

Ralph leaned back in his chair. “This is what will happen. I will pick you up at six tomorrow evening. We will go out for dinner. It will be upscale, jacket and tie, etc. Afterwards, we indulge in the ancient art of dancing. I must warn you my terpsichorean skills are a world away from what you might call ‘tripping the light fantastic’ but I’ll make an effort not to step on your feet.”

She didn’t reply. Instead, she sat in her chair, staring at him across the table, a thoughtful gaze showing in her expression. Finally, she came to a decision. “It’s a deal, sir.”

Cards On The Table His phone did ring, and precisely at one pm. Ralph hit the answer button immediately.

“Hello, sir. I did as you asked, thought over what we discussed. What should we do next?”

He was so relieved she had called that he was at a momentary loss as to how to answer her question. If this keeps on, I have to get used to questions like this. “The phone isn’t the place to continue our conversation.” Be confident, take control, Ralph thought. She’s looking for self-assurance, not consensus.

“I’ll pick you up. Give me your address and I’ll be there at six. The original plan holds, dinner and dancing.”

She didn’t hesitate in revealing her address. Erin only had one question. “Sir? If we’re going somewhere, may I ask what dress code to expect? A cocktail dress, and for dancing, low heels would be acceptable? I can be ready by the time you get here.”

Did he risk it all? A good lawyer never asks a question unless he already knows the answer. “I’m sure that will be appropriate.” He didn’t elaborate, and she didn’t ask for more details.

Exactly at six o’clock he was at her apartment door, pressing the doorbell. Within seconds she opened the door and stood to one side. “Hello, sir. Please come in.”

She wore the basic black cocktail dress, with a taper from the hips down to the knees. Very tasteful, he liked that. Most striking of all, she’d done her hair piled up on her head. I know I’ve seen that look before, but where? Ralph struggled to remember, and then it came to him. Of course, Audrey Hepburn!

She noticed his stare but said nothing. “I’m not going to apologize for looking,” he said. “You look…stunning, that’s the word.” She must have spent all afternoon getting ready to go out.

“Thank you, sir. On rare occasions we have formal, private dinners at the restaurant. Everyone has to look their best. I make more in tips on one of those nights than in a month of regular diners.”

The apartment was small but neat and clean. Ralph pointed to the tiny dining table situated between the kitchen and living room. “We have a few minutes. Let’s sit down over there.”

He pulled out a chair and turned it sideways. “You sit here,” he told Erin. After she was seated, he took another chair and placed it in front of her, so they were face to face.

She had a puzzled look, understandable since this interlude wasn’t expected. “Your phone call made my day, Erin. Ever since our meeting yesterday you’ve been on my mind. Being a lawyer my job is to present my client’s case in the best possible light. Right now, my client is me, so here goes.”

She didn’t say a word, pro or con. Ralph found it difficult to gauge her reaction based solely on the way she sat facing him, hands carefully folded in her lap. What have I got to lose? Ralph thought. Only the woman of my dreams, that’s all.

“This may be premature, but I’m going to say it anyway. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I feel there’s a certain chemistry between us. Two halves of a whole; we fit well together. I want to spend more time with you. By more I mean years, not a few more dates. Now we’ve known each other for one whole day, so maybe I’m rushing things.”

At that she smiled. Yeah, that’s an understatement. At least she took it the right way. Ralph gathered his remaining confidence and kept going.

“If we continue to see each other, there will be a point where I ask you to join with me in a one-year Agreement. If you don’t see that as a possibility then please, let me know where I stand. If it’s not out of the question, then we definitely need to get to know each other better.”

He could tell she was thinking over his little speech. Finally, her answer came. “I agree we need to make sure we’re compatible, sir. Regarding dinner tonight, I like most any kind of food except Italian. Thirty different ways to mix tomato sauce and pasta never appealed to me.”

She didn’t say no! “I hope that doesn’t include steakhouse breadsticks?”

“Oh no, sir. So you know, I’m not one of those vegan types. I was raised on hamburgers and tacos.”

Ralph burst out laughing. “Duly noted. I made reservations at a Surf’n’Turf style supper club. Shall we go?” He rose and offered his arm. She neatly slipped her own arm into his as he led her out the door.

The restaurant was inside one of the best hotels on South Island. It offered African style cuisine, based on beef or seafood. The moment they entered the host came up to greet Erin by name. He led them over to one of the better tables.

“It’s the restaurant business, sir, we all know each other. Jarrod, that’s the host, probably figures I’m here to check out the competition. He’ll ‘just happen’ to drop by Fu’s in a few weeks to return the favor and see what we stole from him. Cutthroat competition, but in a friendly way.”

Ralph picked up the menu and began reading. “Okay, you’re the food expert. I’d like a steak, but you’ll have to help me out on what to order.”

Erin perked up. “No problem, sir. Part of my job is keeping track of foodies and their trends. Do you like a T-bone?” She pointed to an item on the menu. “Braai-style steak, think of it as South African barbeque. It’s best served with potato wedges cooked in butter. Lots of exotic flavors, but not a hot, spicy type dish. Umm, do you usually have a beer with your steak?” Ralph almost laughed; she’s slipping into hostess mode.

“Naturally. Only tourists drink wine with steak in Wyoming. I usually have Negra Modelo, the dark Mexican beer, if I’m at a gourmet place.”

She giggled. “I can imagine, sir. If you like dark beer, then you might try Laurentina Preta, a dark lager from Mozambique. A lot of traditional African beers use sorghum malt, not always the best choice for Westerners.”

“How about you? What would you like?” There was a reason he had to know in advance.

“Durban-style curried prawns, sir.” Erin pointed it out on the menu. “And Chibuku to drink.”

He felt lost now. “What is that? It sounds like a tongue-twister.”

“Traditional African beer, sir, one of those made from sorghum instead of barley. The recipe goes back thousands of years. It’s marketed to the, umm, less affluent clientele. You can even find it in paper cartons. The texture is hard to take if you aren’t used to it. It sounds awful but I’ve developed a taste for it.”

Ralph was starting to feel like the country hick having dinner with a very cosmopolitan lady. He was quickly learning to appreciate she was just as much an expert in her field as he was in gas and oil contracts.

When the waiter came to take their order, Ralph spoke up first. “She’ll have the Durban prawn curry, and Chibuku to drink. I’ll have the Braii T-bone with potato edges, and…what was the name of that beer?”

“Laurentina Preta, sir.”

Was it presumptuous for him to order for her? Sure, but this was a special case. It was significant that she didn’t interrupt him or speak up on her own. Even though it had only been a day there was shift in the dynamic between them. He felt it; she must be affected by it too.

“I had a good day, sir.” She didn’t continue. She’s looking for my okay to continue, but doesn’t want to appear as if she’s turning the conversation to be all about her.”

“Tell me all about it.”

“After I woke up I started the laundry before I made breakfast. While sitting at the table, sipping on my coffee and eating a muffin, I did as you asked, going over our meeting yesterday. After I finished I put the laundry in the dryer, the breakfast dishes in the dishwasher, and then back to the table to think some more. I like a well-ordered world, sir, one that includes keeping the home neat and tidy. I suppose I get that from my father.”

Her father? Of course! Erin had mentioned how she loved the times she’d tell her father how she’d been a “good girl”. Now Ralph had become the authority figure, though he was in no way a substitute for her father. A daughter out with her family didn’t dress like the woman across the table from him.

End Game Two months had gone by for Ralph and Erin. During that time, she had moved in with him on an interim basis. It was going so well between them Ralph had decided to advance to the next step. It started on a Monday morning, her day off, before they left to have lunch at a new sushi place in the mall food court.

Before they left, sitting at the kitchen table he pulled out a chair and turned it sideways. “You sit here,” he motioned to Erin as she walked by. From their time together, he’d learned a firm, insistent tone had an instant effect on her. She immediately sat down, looking up at him with a puzzled expression. Ralph took another chair and placed it in front of her, so they were face to face. He carefully placed his leather portfolio on the table between them. She looked at it with some curiosity but said nothing.

“I prefer to be direct, so here goes.” He took a sheet of paper out of the portfolio and slid it over to Erin. At his nod she picked it up and began reading. It wasn’t long, yet she read it over and over again.

He set down a pen on the table. “Fill out your section, but don’t sign it. We have enough time to file it at the Registration office before lunch.”

She looked up at Ralph. “Sir…I have to ask. Do you feel pressured to do this?” She held up the sheet of paper.

Ralph smiled. “I should be asking you that question. No, no pressure. Impatient, that’s a different question.”

Erin picked up the pen and began filling in the form. She suddenly stopped to look over at Ralph, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Sir? Will you be good to me, take care of me?”

“Yes, I will. I won’t make promises I can’t fill. Judge me by what I deliver, not empty words.”

The short reply seemed to satisfy Erin. She finished the form and pushed it back across the table toward Ralph. He read it, nodded and slipped it into his portfolio. “You’ll need your passport for an ID. Bring me your purse too. Do you happen to have one of those kitchen plastic storage bags, the kind that seal at the top? I’ll need one.”

Erin made a quick trip to the bedroom and returned with the passport and her purse, which she placed on the table. Then she went to a kitchen cupboard and came back with a plastic Ziploc bag.

When she sat down again, he pushed the passport to one side before he opened the bag. “Remember the Island regulations? We need to check your purse. Put your phone, wallet, keys and any loose change in the bag.”

It only took Erin a few seconds to figure out what he was doing. “Of course, sir. I was distracted and forgot about the requirements. No loose change, I hate being disorganized. All the coins are in a coin purse.” She began transferring everything that would be prohibited or controlled by Ralph into the plastic bag.

“That’s all, sir.” She pushed the open purse toward Ralph. “Do you want to check?”

He picked up her passport and stuffed it in his jacket. The sealed plastic bag he dropped in her purse and closed it. “No, I’m sure you were thorough. Hold onto your purse until we get to the Registration office. After all, it isn’t official yet. You will hand me the plastic bag before we go in.”

Island IV – Meetings · Part 6 (6/21)
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