Back Net of Jewels Save as PDF
Chapters (44)
  1. Cover
  2. NET OF JEWELS
  3. Dedication
  4. Preface
  5. Part One
  6. Chapter
  7. Chapter
  8. Chapter
  9. Chapter
  10. Chapter
  11. Chapter
  12. Part Two
  13. Chapter
  14. Chapter
  15. Chapter
  16. Part Three
  17. Chapter
  18. Part Four
  19. Chapter
  20. Chapter
  21. Chapter
  22. Chapter
  23. Chapter
  24. Chapter
  25. Chapter
  26. Chapter
  27. Chapter
  28. Chapter
  29. Chapter
  30. Chapter
  31. Chapter
  32. Part Five
  33. Chapter
  34. Chapter
  35. Chapter
  36. Chapter
  37. Chapter
  38. Part Six
  39. Chapter
  40. Chapter
  41. Chapter
  42. Chapter
  43. Chapter
  44. Coda

“No, I can’t wait. Please get up. Please let’s do it now.” I picked up a pair of cotton underpants from the floor and put them on. I picked up a white satin slip and pulled it over my head. He reached out and pulled me into the bed and climbed on top of me. “Move,” he said. “See if you can move.”

“I want to have ten sons who look like you. Ten tall sons to carry my coffin to the grave.”

“Why do you always talk about dying?” He got up and stood beside the bed. “You’re only twenty years old.”

“I can’t help it. That’s how I think.”

“Don’t get your feelings hurt. I’m getting dressed. Come on, see if you still have the license. You didn’t lose it, did you?”

“No, it’s right here. I have it here.” I pulled the license out of my pocketbook and read it. He came and stood beside me. We moved into each other’s arms. Electromagnetism, Aphrodite, sun-spots, whatever explains such things.

“Do you want to get breakfast first?”

“No. I want to be the first person married today in South Carolina or in the world.”

“Okay, get dressed. Let’s go.”

* * *

The sheriff of Milan County had bought a pickup truck and a motorboat with the money he had made performing marriages on weekends, he later told us. Ten dollars here, five dollars there. It added up.

“Come on in,” he said. “Have a seat while I round up the bailiff. He likes to be my witness. Well, you got a pretty day for it. I’ll say that. How old are you?”

“I’m twenty,” I said. “He’ll be twenty next month.”

“Marrying an older woman. You both from Atlanta?”

“We go to school there.” Malcolm shook hands solemnly with the sheriff and handed him the license.

“That will be twenty-five dollars,” the sheriff said and Malcolm got out the money and handed it to him.

“We could let Denise witness it, if we can’t find Bobby. There he is. Come on in, Robert. They’re chomping at the bit to say the vows. Come on in. Stand by her, boy, that’s the way. Take her hand. You got the ring?”

“I’ve got it,” I said and produced it from my pocket and gave it to Malcolm. I had been wearing it off and on for days.