THE RUBBER HITS THE ROAD
Sonia: Hey, girl, sorry I'm late. How's it been?
Serena: Not bad. Can we talk…..
Sonia: -interrupting - What's wrong? Hold that thought, my coffee is up.
- Sonia returns with her latte -
Sonia: Ok, where were we? Yes, don't take this wrong, Serena, but you look horrible. Looks like you and me need to go back to Barbuda. Princess Diana, she beckons!
Serena: Damn, my drink is cold. I'm going to get another one. I'm sorry to be asking, but do you have any cash? I have just enough for the bus home.
Sonia: Cash!? The bus!?
Serena: - silently, looking away - Fred's canceled my cards.
Sonia: What!? He can't do that! They're your cards! Your own money!
Serena: Look, can you spare $50? I came out today to pick up a few things. The cab took most of my cash.
Sonia: Tell you what. I've got no cash, let me get your drink.
- Sonia returns with Serena's coffee -
Sonia: I think I know what this is about. Ray's been out every night this week.
Serena: Same with Fred.
Sonia: Two nights ago he came back to the house without our car. Get this: instead of coming in, he stayed out in the military vehicle which had brought him. I watched from our window as he got out, some corporal came around to open the door for him. Fancy! Then, God as my witness, Andrew Pryce got out the other side, was talking to Ray over the top of the car. Then a military guy got out, looked like a General or something. The three of them talked out on our driveway, for over an hour.
Serena: Did you ever get your car back?
Sonia: Even though Ray came in after, the car was in the drive in the morning. I have no idea how it got there.
Serena: Do you have the car with you?
Sonia: Yes, why?
Serena: If you give me a ride, I'll tell you what happened on Antigua.
Sonia: You'll tell me anyway, honey. It's what we do.
Serena: - silence - Ray and Fred had been arrested. First night we were on Barbuda. I confronted Fred about it. He denied it. It had been a fight, over one of the domestics at the hotel.
Sonia: Fred fought? You mean one with punches? That's Ray's routine. But it explains a lot.
Serena: Now my cards have been suspended. I'm no longer insured for the car.
Sonia: What!? Really? Can Fred do that? - pauses - It's happening, Serena, it's happening.
Serena: Then why are your cards working? Geez, Sonia, I never intended this?
Sonia: 'Embracing one's reproductive destiny'? 'Being freed from parochial, daily demands to focus on family'? Those were your words, Serena. And you know what, you were right. No argument from me.
Serena: C'mon, Sonia, it's one thing to commit yourself personally to all that. I made that clear in the book. It's not something I would sign up for.
Sonia: - looks up, pauses, then looks down - Ray and I have been trying ever since he graduated Economics. He even made a joke about it.
Serena: Ray made a joke?
Sonia: Yes, my Ray. Said going off of birth control was our little way of conforming to the future. Said that birth control needed to be criminalized.
Serena: A year ago, I would have been shocked. I have a feeling that Ray wasn't joking, Sonia.
Sonia: I bet once it settles down between you and Fred, you'll find yourself with cards again.
Serena: Why aren't you asking, Sonia?
Sonia: About what?
Serena: I just told you that Ray had been arrested.
Sonia: - pause - I knew all along.
Serena: How?
Sonia: When he's been drinking, Ray is sloppy with used condoms. Whoever he was with down there, they'd used our room.
Serena: Geez, Sonia, that's gross. - silence- Why didn't you tell me?
Sonia: You really want to know?
Serena: Yes, I really want to know!
Sonia: O help me Lord. - long pause - He'd been with at least two people. There were two brands of condoms in the waste. Not one brand, two. I knew that Ray had used one of the brands. Not the other. That one was a brand only sold in Antigua.
Serena: What!?
Sonia: He'd never used condoms, never with me. He wouldn't do that. But he was sloppy. - pause, tears welling up - There was also an Antigua cop: Browne. Called the house last week. I don't think you're ready for what he said.
Serena: Try me.
Sonia: - welling up in more tears - He said that Fred and Ray were not welcome back on the Island. Same-sex activity can land you in one of their jails for 15 years. - pause - You don't look surprised, Serena.
Serena: What are you saying? Fred and Ray?
Sonia: -in tears- Fred and Ray.
Serena: -standing- Just stay away from me, Sonia. I can call a neighbour to get a ride home. Just stay away. -leaving-
REPRODUCTION - A MORAL IMPERATIVE
The closer that they came to 'the day', the more short-tempered Fred became. As it was, tonight's 'gala' was a command-performance. Andrew Pryce had given marching orders to all of Boston's fledgling Sons of Jacob, which, as Fred explained to Serena, meant that it was not optional.
Especially not for her. Her name as an antifeminist author was too well known.
And why not. For the first time one of Massachusetts' US Senators was going to be in attendance, together with some top brass from all six of the State's military bases. US Army Garrison Fort Devens was perhaps the most important. There would be a few full colonels, which was 'the big catch', as Pryce had put it - although the other 'catch' was that the men would only appear in civilian clothes. Fred told Serena that Pryce had been bragging that nearly every State on the eastern seaboard was having meetings/galas like this.
The only thing that Fred had said about the teal dress, elbow-length gloves, and cape was to order, "Look! Put them on!" His specialty was image. Serena hated the colour. Blue-teal reminded her of the West Coast of the country, a place she completely despised. Her family here in New England had been 'old money'. Those tech-rubes in California and Washington State were all 'new money', and as such did not know anything. Teal was their colour, not hers.
She decided to submit, at least as far as the outfit was concerned. Fred was right. Image was often more important than substance. Just before Fred left the bedroom to see if the limousine had arrived, Serena had said firmly to him, "Never mistake a woman's meekness for weakness." When her book on 'domestic feminism' had come out, Fred had thought it genius.
He just resented having it thrown in his face on such an important night.
Seeing him leave the upstairs level, Sally, the Waterford maid, knocked on the bedroom door, opened it and stuck her head in. "I'm going home now, Mrs. Waterford. Just to remind you, I won't be in tomorrow. My daughter has her parent-teacher day." Serena said that she'd remembered that as being the next week. "Mrs. Waterford, we've talked about this. I've got all meals in the freezer, all you have to do is heat them."
Uttering an annoying sigh of exasperation, Sally said goodbye, and headed out.
Checking herself in the mirror Serena thought, "This gala had better be worth it." She preferred her hair hanging loose to the shoulder. For the sake of the image they were trying to sell, she quickly tied it back into a neat and tidy, tight-as-a-spring bun.
She thought if she was going to cave in on Fred's stuff, he was going to have to agree to what they were about to talk about in the vehicle.
In the limousine, Fred started by rehearsing the choreography for the evening. There was no need, Serena herself had gone over it with him, reminding him of all the check-boxes they were going to have to see to in that company of so many influential people. The people to schmooze with.
"We're close, Serena, we're close." Yes, she knew that.
"Fred," she said, "I want to tell you something. I'll probably be kibitzing about it at the gala. I know I should have run it by you first, but I've already talked with the publisher."
Fred looked away from her, out the window to the darkened city streaming by. "Serena, it's probably best if I make the announcements for our family. Remember what it is we're trying to sell, dear."
Without acknowledging him she said, "Two more books. That's what the publisher wants."
"Are you sure that's wise, my dear?" he asked turning to look at her. "'A Woman's Place' is already giving us all we need to structure things, all the talking points we need - if we can just get past this goddamned gala!"
"Fred - if there's going to be a revolution, it has to be a proper and righteous one. You may not care, but I care deeply. About women. About the filth that women are exposed to, all while our country falls apart."
Fred thought, that's my girl! But he got all fidgety thinking that they were close, so close, they couldn't always be inventing things on the fly - eventually they had to deliver. It was impossible to control the moment when 'delivery' presented itself. He said, "You can't write a never ending series of books, Serena."
"Wanna bet?" she said smiling. Restoring her seriousness, she said, "I think I worry about women more than you do. My publisher says it's my strength. Wants me to write more directly about the fertility crisis. Women, not men, will control the solution to that."
It was Fred's turn to smile, "You think so, do you!"
"Look, Fred. Let's not have this conversation. Not about us, in any event. I've told you repeatedly, I want to have a family. We can't. I can't. You'd have to be blind not to see fertility as a national resource in the new world, as well as reproduction as a moral imperative. You and I know what that is about. In spades."
Fred smiled, "Serena, we have it in hand. That part is just logistics. We have to first be in the place to implement it, that's the hard part, being in place. That's what the gala is about - bringing the right combination of players together."
"I know it is, Fred," she smirked, "you're simply quoting from the position-brief I wrote for you. That was me, Fred, remember?"
The hum of the tires on the road was all that occupied them for a minute.
"Do you think she'll be there?" Fred asked 'who'? She replied, "Sonia? We're not exactly on speaking terms."
Fred got angry. "You're going to have to stow that, Serena. Cushing is an ass, but he gets things done. Pryce likes him. So whatever it is you've got with Sonia, stow it."