Open Marriage

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

Weddings have been unconventional, but never to the extend of this one.

If not you’re already familiar with international language Peoplese, now is your opportunity to jump in and get your feet wet.  The story below is written in Peoplese’s Alike English version, completely understandable to English speakers (and for non-English speakers, ten times quicker to learn).  Optional:  enhance your reading experience with a look at www.peoplese.org , and spend ten minutes reading the jumpstart page.  Writers, vastly increase your long-term readership by switching to Peoplese.

 

Open Marriage

 

On a beautyful Sunday afternoon aside Kapiolani Publicpark, by a patch of nature at the foot of Diamond Head crater, near King Kamehameha fountain a stone’s throw from the beach, the minister-ort park-d his convert-able (top-less) car, and stride-d across the meadow toward the tall stand of old ironwood trees tiltlean-ing toward ocean Pacific.  Young and tall, dress-d in white, his shoulder-length yellow hairs flow-ing rear-ward to reveal a roach-clip ear·ornament dangle-ing from his leftside ear lobe, he proceed-d toward the cluster of hippys on and around a shade-d wood-y bench.  A pink and yellow and orange banner stretch-d between two over·head trees announce-d Road Toad Wed-in, the print-in surround-t by sketches of mushrooms and a large green toad – artwork by the bride-to-be.

May 1977 in Waikiki, on Hawaii-y island Oahu, the weather idyllic.

The betrothed couple – Lancelot and Suzanna –sit-d on a bench chat-ing with three guests sit-ing on the grass lawn around they.  The bride, beautyful, with high cheek·bones, her long curl-y brown hairs dance-ing in the warm breeze, her face glow-ing with happy-ness, wear-d a snug-fit-y yellow trouser and a green flower-y silk scarf tie-d loose-ly around her chest at breasts-level.  The groom, tall and handsome, sport-ing a beard, a mustache, and thick brown hairs even long-er than the minister-or’s, wear-d only a fade-d blue denim trouser, patches sew-t upon patches.  The other guests – everybody there in they’s twentys – wuz dress-d alikewise casual-ly.  All but the minister-or’s foots wuz bare.

The minister-ort, after kiss-ing the bride-to-be and shake-ing hands with the groom-to-be, seat-d hisself upon the grass, and partake-d of a chocolate marijuana browny, which he wash-d down with magic mushroom punchdrink, offer-d in a milk carton.

"Taste alike cow shit!" he exclaim-d.

"Hold your nose and dont think about it," advise-d Lancelot.

"Eat another browny," offer-d Lancelot’s future wife Suzanna, hand-ing he the dish.

"What a day for a wed-ing!" exclaim-d the minister-or, and the others agree-d.  The set-ing sun, still 30 degrees over the Pacific Ocean, filter-d through the open-in between the tall ironwood trees, blanket-d the meadow around the fountain with a golden colorhue and illuminate-d the face of Diamond Head crater and beyond.  A mina bird, black with a yellow beak, hop-d on the grass nearby wait-ing it’s opportunity for another browny crumb.

The groom ask-d the minister-or, "What iz you plan-ing for the ceremony?"

"I iz throw-ing the matter back to you," answer-d the minister-or.

The groom appear-d pensive.  He finger-d his mustache.

The minister-or explain-d, "I walk-d down to the Catholic Church to obtain a copy of the traditional ceremony, but only tour-ors wuz around.  Do-d you bring any poems or anythin to include?"

"We have a couple of things," answer-d the groom.

The bride nod-d in agreement.  "If all else fail we can mime the ceremony."

The minister-or say-d, "Lets put somethin on paper."

The three rise-d, and head-d to a nearby clump of trees.  They sit-d in a triangle in a grass-y spot illuminate-t by sun·light.  From her lauhala (hala leaf) purse the bride produce-d paperback books of Lord of the Rings and Kahlil Gibran’s The Profit, while the minister-or dis-fold-d a sheet of blank paper and the groom stuff-d a pipe with choice Kona gold and ignite-d it.  He inhale-d deep-ly and pass-d it to the bride.  Thrice it circulate-d, burn-ing some of the best marijuana grow-d on planet Earth.

The mood create-d, the minister-or break-d the silence.  What do you want in the ceremony?”

The couple believe-d in marriage of freedom, rather than restraint, of growth rather than restriction, of spontaneity rather than blind subservient-ness to tradition.  As self-label-t road toads, they had hop-d around the Hawaii-y island dur two years, and mean-d they’s marriage to be a proclamation of they’s mutual love.  Yet as hippys, they believe-d in love-ing everybody, all, not only each other.

The books open-d, ideas wuz exchange-t.  The threesome busy-d theyselfs dur half a clockhour.

While the minister-or wuz copy-ing the last poem, the groom stand-d and say-d, "I iz go-ing to change clothes.”

"I suppose-d you wuz go-ing to wear those,”" say-d the minister-or, indicate-ing the patch-t denim trouser.

"Lancelot, your parents iz here!" exclaim-d the bride.  "And iz those your grandparents?"

The groom look-d over.  “Yes!” 

"I dint realize..." begin-d the minister-or.  "They airplane-d in from the mainland?"  North America continent.

"His grandparents all the way from Ohio!" answer-d the bride, refer-ing to a mid-continent province.

The minister-or nervous-ly rub-d his chin.  “You dint tell me your parents wuz come-ing.  Not to mention your grandparents.  Do they know I iz a mail-order minister-or?” he ask-d apprehensive-ly.  By mail-ing three dollars to Universal Life Church, the hippy had receive-d a bonafide minister-or license.

"They know we iz road toads," answer-d the bride.

"All mellow," reassure-d the groom.  "See you soon," he say-d to Suzanna, as he depart-d toward his family.

The minister-or turn-d to the bride and say-d, "You look beautyful, Suzanna."

She smile-d at he.

He kiss-d she.

"I have never been so happy," she say-d.

"Groove-y” 

"I have never in all my life been in love with so many peoples."

"How many iz you in love with?"

She smile-d again, look-ing deep-ly into his eyes.  When she look-d at he it wuz always with such depth, and always dur a long time, long-er than he could hold his gaze.  Once, while massage-ing his foots on his bed, she had tell-d he it wuz Lancelot who had teach-d she to look into a man's eyes.

"Iz Craig come-ing?" ask-d the minister-or.

"He and Karla iz airplane-d here from the Big Island this mornin." 

"Groove-y!"

He catch-d she watch-ing he with her infinite smile.

"Where iz you go-ing on your honeymoon?"

"As yet, no plans."

"Will you crash at Madeline's?"

She shrug-d.  A treebranch move-d with the breeze, and sun·light illuminate-d her face.

“You appear radiant.”

She take-d his hand.  She wuz always do-ing things alike that, touch-ing he.  They gaze-d into each other's eyes, then he kiss-d she light-ly.  He start-d to pull away, but she hold-d he there, so he kiss-d she again, they’s tongues mutual-ly caress-ing.

He squeeze-d her hand.  "What will the parents think?  And the grandparents?"

She smile-d that non-blink-ing smile.

They turn-d at foot·steps.  "Suzanna, you will marry within one clockhour!  Get it together!"  It wuz Aniela, a glamorous redhead.

"She iz together," the minister-or defend-d she, stand-ing.

"I hope so."  Aniela laugh-d.  "She iz have-ing her cake and eat-ing it also."

The bride rise-d.  The young womans hug-d.  The minister-or fold-d the paper and pocket-d it.  They three walk-d across the meadow toward the colorful Road Toads banner, where the wait-in group had increase-d four-fold.

After greet-ins, include-ing to recent-ly arrive-d Craig and Karla, dress-d as pilgrims, the minister-or realize-d it wuz time to meet his official responsibilitys, thus he stride-d over to the near-est old couple and introduce-d hisself.  "Hello, I iz Buckwheat Madison.  I iz a minister-or of Universal Life Church.  I will be pre-form-ing the ceremony."

The man, his hairs gray-ing, his suitset dark blue, and the woman, her hairs colordye-d red-ish brown and and her formal suitset red, blanch-d.  They introduce-d theyselfs as mistor and misses Evans, the groom's parents, from Sacramento city, California province, then by turn-ing toward the oceansea make-d it clear that the conversation had end-d.

Next, the minister-or walk-d over to the grandparents, who although a birthcycle old-er and from a conservative-er province appear-d more receptive to the non-conventionality wed-in.  They and the minister-or smalltalk-d about the horrid winter in Ohio, compare-d it to Hawaii's year-round tropical climate, and share-d enthusiasm about the beauty of the bride.

The groom return-d, dress-d in a pale-by blue short·trouser and a white lace-y blazer, with a yellow daisy flowerlei hang-d around his neck.  He re-join-d his parents and grandparents, hug-ing the womans and shake-ing hands with the mans.  Around he gather-d a group of admire-ors, the minister-or among they.  Long term friends of the couple, include-ing many road toads, they had trek-d south-ward from all over the island, some from the outer islands, and throughout the meadow could be earhear-t hearty greet-ins, follow-t by exchanges of news.

"Shall we begin the ceremony," ask-d the minister-or.

"The bestman's not here," answer-d the groom.  "Say, Buckwheat, could you find me a cigaret?"  He mean-d tobacco.

"Sure thing."

The minister-or drift-d off to the bride's camp, a satellite group shout-in distance away.  Enroute, he encounter-d a distinguish-y appear-ing Hawaiin man, who greet-d the minister-or and introduce-d hisself as mistor Kealoha from the island of Maui.

"I will give Suzanna away," he explain-d, thenupon put-ing a gorgeous flowerlei of red carnations around the minister-or’s neck.

The minister-or, overcome, shake-d the gentleman's hand repeat-ly, and express-d his admiration for the bride and groom.

"Could I bum a cigaret?" he ask-d mistor Kealoha.  "The groom iz nervous."

"Ofcourse.  Ofcourse."

The minister-or thenupon hand-d one over.

Mistor Kealoha say-d, "When you iz ready to begin, signal me and I will come over with Suzanna."

"We iz wait-ing for the bestman," the minister-or explain-d.

"I see."

The minister-or rub-d his chin.  "This iz my first marriage ceremony.  Uh, how do I ask you to give the bride away.  I mean..."

"Mere-ly say, Who iz to give Suzanna away?  And I will stop forward with she."  Wide smiles exchange-d.

The two mans drift-d into the bride's camp.  Suzanna wuz glow-ing with excitement, a sparkle-ing star surround-t by wellwish-ors, her beauty reach-ing ever-new heights.

"We iz wait-ing for the bestman," the minister-or explain-d.

"Or the worst man," contradict-d one of the ladys in wait-in.

"Or the best time-in,” suggest-d redhead Aniela.

"He wuz pretty stoned when we depart-d,” comment-d the bride.  "I hope he can find his way."

“If he remember to come at all.”

"Excuse me, the groom iz nervous,” say-d the minister-or.  “I must to take he this cigaret."

The ladys laugh-d.

The minister-or walk-d back across the publicpark, his yellow hairs a bit less kempt.  But see-ing that the groom wuz already smoke-ing a cigaret – in a crowd include-ing a pretty blond white-clad lady with who he wuz engage-d in a length-y kiss – the minister-or veer-d from his course and pause-d to sit beneath a tree to rehearse in his mind the ceremony.  Float-ing on the breeze come-d snatches of the deep soundpitch-y voice of a bachelor friend heckle-ing the groom, contrast-ing his own freedom with his friend’s imminent imprisonment, the handsome groom counter-ing that they’s wuz to be an “open marriage”, to a chorus of giggle-ing nymphs scant-ly wrap-d in bits of colorful cloth decorate-t with fresh flowers.  Above the ocean – it’s presence highlight-t by the periodic crash-in of waves – the sun, yellow-er and big-er and low-er, seem to hang, as though also wait-ing for the bestman.  North-ward, partial-ly visible through the ironwood trees, stand-d majestic Diamond Head crater, halo-t by a white, rise-ing not quite full moon.

Then come-d the bestman.  He could be see-t at the southern Waikiki beach end of Kapiolani publicpark, brown and tall, his head pad-d with a thick layer of frizz-y black hairs, amble-ing along with his blond galfriend, her two steps to his one.

They’s approach electrify-d the crowd.

It send-d the groom and everybody around he in motion toward the fountain.

It send-d stray guests from all over the meadow toward the same direction.

It send-d tingles along the spine of the minister-or, and, presume-ably, along the spines of the bride and groom.  Along with the youngstors congregate-d Lancelot’s parents and grandparents, and mistor Kealoha, as ladys in wait-in gather-d around Suzanna.

Greet-ins and hugs mark-d they’s arrival.  Smoke-ing marijuana cigarets pass-d from hands to lips to hands.  The minister-or stand-d with his back to the fountain, it’s three white spouts of foam-y water appear-ing yellow-ish-orange by the farewell rays of the set-in sun.  The groom and the bestman arrive-d by the minister-or’s side, as the guests gather-d around.

The minister-or wave-d to mistor Kealoha, and he and the bride and a group of ladys in wait-in begin-d they’s trek forward across the meadow.

Mistor Kealoha, the bride at his side, step-d over to the fountain.  Wide smiles all around.

"All please gather near-er,” ask-d the minister-or in a loud voice, motion-ing with his arm.  The guests stand-d or seat-d theyselfs, rest-ing against tree·trunks and sit-ing on blankets.  When all but the mina birds wuz silent, the minister-or say-d, “We begin with a poem from Lord of the Rings, by J. R. R. Tolkien:

 

“The road go ever on and on

Down from the door where it begin-d.

Now far ahead the road have gone,

And I must follow, if I can,

Pursue-ing it with eager foots,

Until it join some large-er way

Where many paths and errands meet.

And whither then? I can·not say.”

 

After a respect-able silence, the minister-or, look-ing down at his paper again, continue-d.  “And now for a poem by Libnanan poet Kahlil Gibran.

 

“Let there be spaces in your together-ness, And let the winds of the heavens dance between yous. Love one another but make not a bond of love: Let it rather be a move-ing oceansea between the shores of your souls. Fill each other's cup but drink not from one cup. Give one another of your bread but eat not from the same loaf. Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone, Even as the strings of a lute iz alone though they quiver with the same music. Give your hearts, but not into each other's keep-ing. For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts. And stand together, yet not too near together; Because the pillars of the temple stand apart, And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other's shadow.”

 

The minister-or then say-d, "We follow with another poem:  the first part Amerindian-y, the last part Road Toad.

 

The Eagle sing

the sun's rays

All along my wings

reach-ing out beyond

they’s tips

A gray little whirlwind

iz try-ing to catch me

Across my path

It keep whirl-ing.

 

Daunt-d not

the Eagle sores

On the world ever high-er

in love to stay

With share-ing

life and flight

Together forever.

 

Thenupon the minister-or ask-d, "Who iz to give Suzanna away?”

Mistor Kealoha and the bride step-d forward.

The minister-or turn-d to the bride and ask-d, "Suzanna, do you take Lancelot to be your lawful, marryed husband, in health and in sick-ness, until death do yous part?"

Suzanna, look-ing intent-ly into Lancelot’s eyes, reply-d, "I do."

"Lancelot, do you take Suzanna to be your lawful wed-d wife, in health and in sick-ness, until death do yous part?"

He answer-d, a bit shake-ly, "I do."

The bestman then hand-d the finger·ring to Lancelot, who slide-d it onto Suzanna's finger.

Declare-d the minister-or, "Lancelot and Suzanna, I now pronounce you man and wife."

The couple kiss-d, while the minister-or, who wuz also an astrologor, remove-d from his trouser pocket a pocket·clock, and note-d the exact time.  He add-d, "May God bless your union with happy-ness."

The prayer ripple-d, in varyous forms, throughout the guests.

The minister-or clear-d his throat.  "Now a final poem, from The Fellowship of the Ring."

 

“All that iz gold do not glitter,

Not all who wander iz lost;

The old that iz strong dont wither,

Deep roots iz not reach-t by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall awaken,

A light from the shadows shall spring;

Re-new-d shall be blades that wuz broken,

The crown-less again shall be king.”

 

The happy couple embrace-d and kiss-d again as the guests pour-d forth to shower they hugs and kisses.  A photo-ort, heretofore discreet, buzz-d around immortalize-ing precious moments.  Gifts wuz offer-t, marijuana cigarets ignite-t, corks pop-t from champagne bottles, as the sun sink-d non-notice-t into the darken-ing ocean.

The minister-or hug-d the groom.  "Congratulations!"

"For a three-dollars minister-or, you do-d good."

"Thank good-ness!” exclaim-d the minister-or with relief.  Notice-ing mistor Kealoha, he walk-d over, smile-ing wide-ly.

“A beautyful ceremony,” congratulate-d the Hawaiin man, hold-ing up a frost-y green bottle.  "Do you drink?"

"On occasions alike this, certain-ly."  He gulp-d a big swig of champagne.

As guests fan-d out in the meadow, the minister-or meander-d back ot the bride.  When he approach-d, she turn-d she turn-d and embrace-d he.

"Congratulations, road toad!"

"I have never been so happy!"

The embrace become-d a kiss.

The minister-or pull-d way.  "No more kisses."

"Why?"

"You iz a marryed woman.”

Her mouth form-d a pout, as a little frown appear-d between her eyes.  "Do you mean it?"

He kiss-d she again.  "You iz non-resist-able."

She pay-d back his compliment with her look of love.

"What iz you do-ing tonight?" he ask-d she joke-ly, a common way of ask-ing for a romdate.

She laugh-d and punch-d at he with her little fist. 

The minister-or rub-d his arm as though it hurt-d.

The glamorous redhead walk-d over, hand-ing a glass of champagne to the bride.  “Yous two again!”

The minister-or laugh-d.  "I want-d to marry Suzanna, and today I get-d my opportunity."

The redhead laugh-d, while the bride pay-d he with her infinite smile.

"Come."  The redhead lead-d the bride to her husband.

Champagne flow-d.  So do-d Kona gold.  So do-d mushroom punchdrink, refer-d to among the guests as cow shit punchdrink.  Merryment flow-d.  As the sky darken-d, the white moon rise-d high-er above the silhouette of the crater.

By chance the minister-or stand-d by the bride. 

"You again," she say-d when she notice-d he.

"Wuz not it a perfect afternoon?"

"Total-by perfect."  She always stand-d near he when they talk-d.

"You appear wonderful," say-d the minister-or.  "You iz so happy."

"I iz.  Terrible-ly happy."

They stand-d so near, he kiss-d she.  She caress-d his tongue with she's.

He withdraw-d.  "Why iz you so sensual?"

That look.

He tiltlean-d near-er.  "Have a minister-or ever depart-d a wed-in with the bride?"

She clench-d her little fist.  Then she say-d, "I love you."

The minister-or stand-d tall, his long yellow hairs glisten-ing in moon·light.  "Come," he implore-d she.  "My convert-able iz wait-ing."  He take-d her hands in he’s.

She stand-d look-ing up at he.  Such depth in her eyes!  Then she squeeze-d his hands.

They run-d light-ly across the meadow to the road and his car.  He lift-d she into the front seat and jump-d in behind the steer·wheel.

They look-d back across the darken-ing meadow.  The lights around the fountain had justthen switch-d on, reveal-ing three spouts of white foam, silhouettes of the guests, and the Road Toad banner.  Sudden-ly – as though somebody had call-d out somethin – everybody turn-d toward the car.  Talk stop-d in mid-wordsentence.  Champagne bottles halt-d in mid-swig.

The groom, surround-t by flower-adorn-d ladys, look-d over at his wife, who wave-d to he.  Energetic-ly, he wave-d back.

His parents and grandparents stand-d speech-less, all four with they’s jaws hang-ing open.

The minister-or turn-d the key, start-ing the powerful car engine with a roar.

The bride turn-d back to her husband, with a kiss-ing motion, her hand, palm up-ward, below her mouth, and blow-d he a kiss. 

He respond-d with one of his own.

The minister-or wave-d, as he shift-d the car into gear.  The ladys in wait-in – all but the pretty-est, white-clad, with long yellow hairs, who remain-d with her arm around the groom’s bodywaist – run-d forward and toss-d they’s flowers into the vehicle. 

Then the top-less car accelerate-d along the road.

Wind in they’s faces, hairs flow-ing rear-ward, the bride glance-d back, with a farewell wave, then snuggle-d near-er to the minister-or. 

He put-d his arms around she.  Tiltlean-ing toward she, they kiss-d.

"Wuz not your wed-in wonderful?" ask-d the minister-or.

"Wonderful!  I iz happy-er than happy," respond-d the bride.

***


Submitted: July 17, 2021

© Copyright 2021 grant moore. All rights reserved.

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