*.*.*.* One Week Earlier *.*.*.*
We create our own instruments and sing our own songs. Although English is the prominent language which we all understand, we tend to speak one of our own, it's tradition. And we are people of tradition; proud people too I may add.
The market place thrives this time of day, around the time when shadows begin to grow along the ground and the Lilian flowers which prefer to face the sun, loose direction of where to look. The Market is shaped as a large circle all aisles leading to the open centre where a fire pit thrives snapping and releasing smoke which makes my eyes tear the slightest. Lanterns lined with red paper along the jagged wooden beams which hold the market together, signify the beginning of the new season. 'Säsongen av Född' we call it, or 'Season of Birth'. Although, now that I think about it, its falsely named because the only tradition of today is to find a mate, pick a date, marry, and attend every other marriage within your family.
The sound of common chatter and debating surrounds me as all I can do is stay still, hold my posture, and look like something every man would want.
I stand upon my pedestal like the other girls my age all posing in the same position. One hand is curved above my head and the other curved behind my lower back. My frilly shirt sits lower on my chest than most would be comfortable with, I have to look desirable.
Everyone can identify this posture as "looking for a mate" but to me, it feels more like "hungry".
I am of age now to start my own family, my mother has been trying to sell me off since I was a hundred and forty four moons old. Now I am the bitter age of 198 moons, I am well beyond my time, in her eyes anyway.
Many of the women here are older than I am, and they still get chosen by lovely men who will soon become their husbands and start a family. Where the women stay home and cook an lead a very pleasant life for themselves.
Many fair men pass me of all classes, I prefer the ones who wear orange, colour signified class and I know if I marry within my class I will do well for myself. A part of me however also looks for men in green, they are a class higher than myself but equally something I could achieve.
Through the distant pinegreen doors and smokey room I see two men burst through the frame shouting and laughing.
No one thinks twice if a man makes a scene. But god forbid a woman blinks the wrong way, she could be shamed for life.
"I have every opportunity in my fingertips!" The first man brags opening his arms to the women in the room. He wears a tight blue shirt which signified first class, and he holds a drink in his hand, judging by his actions, there is a percentage of alcohol within it's contense.
"Don't choose some poor dwarf, what about money? The bank isn't an endless pit Ove." His partner answers back, clearly more sober.
"Unless you're me of course!"
The boys direct themselves down the long rows of ladies skipping over the women who wear orange and brown. Orange signifies a middle to lower class to say politely. I wear orange, perhaps (and I hope to god) they will pass me like all the other women who don't seem to phase them at all.
"I can live my life care free of such problems! I could practically pick a partner with my eyes shut and still leave successful after a years time." the first one snickers sipping his drink.
"Could you now?" His friend laughs and pulls off his green tie covering his eyes. "Prove it then!" He pulls the drink out of Ove's fingertips and pushes him down a row of women.
"How will I choose without any eyes? Shall I touch?" He reaches out to a woman placing his hands upon her breasts. She slaps his face shocking him and I cannot help but to giggle to myself.
I then realize a man in front of me is considering taking me for himself but suddenly frowns upon my abrupt reaction to the humour and moves along to the next woman.
Damn it, that was almost my chance. I lower my arms because they are tired of holding the same position for that amount of time. I don't understand how all the ladies here can hold this odd position without some sort of cramp within the back or the arms.
"Put your arms up you fool!" Saga whispers harshly beside me. She straightens her brown shirt and returns her arms.
I roll my eyes and hold the position again feeling the pain build in my back.
I look at the end of my row and I see Ove and his friend wander down in my direction.
"You're running out of ladies to choose from Ove." his friend warns.
"I know Arvid! She's at the end that's why!"
He stands with his feet apart and hands straight out to ensure he keeps his balance while he wanders aimlessly down the aisle. I hold my breath as he passes me, maybe this careless fool will pass me if I do not make a sound.
One foot in front of the other he passes my pedestal but pauses in front of Saga. I am about to breathe a sigh of relief once he faces her instead of me, until he points in my direction.
"I choose her."
His index points to my knees as Arvid removes his tie off Ove's eyes. The first moment he catches a glance at me I can see his disappointment. It's not often someone in first class marries someone such as myself in orange.
"Congratulations Ove!" Arvid raises Ove's drink to the both of us and downs the remaining alcohol which coated the bottom of the bottle. But the celebrating stops there. I can tell Ove doesn't want a mate of such low class and I don't want to clean up after such a fool.
Ove takes my hand lowering me from the pedestal and takes me out of the room escorting me to a registry desk to allow us to leave together.
"Hand please." A woman in green framed glasses asks.
Ove and I place our fist down on the table and she inserts a chip into Ove's wrist which makes him wince a little.
"Blue and orange, that's a first." She raises an eyebrow at Ove while picking up my arm.
"Trust me, it wasn't my first choice." He laughs. I feel my guts crunch, how can he say such an awful thing? Especially since I stand right here.
The woman looks up from her needle at Ove. "Yes she was."
"No, it was a dare to choose blindfolded." He protests like a smart ass.
"And a first choice nonetheless." She looks at Ove while pushing the needle into my skin, how can she see where she's aiming? the needles hold in my skin for a brief moment, it only stings when she pulls the needle out.
"Be careful who you tell about this, yea? As you know, marrying outside your class is... odd."
I see Ove look at me from the corner of my eye but I choose not to return his gaze. He shakes his head and chuckles quietly in his throat.
"We'll be fine, thank you." Ove takes my hand forcefully and leads me out of the round market place tent and into the middle of the street.
Ove is first class, so he would live on the opposite side of town as myself and my family.
We walk down an open street with the sun beating down hot on our backs and the wind brushing quickly between my legs hauling my skirt along with it. Each block of houses all fit snug close to one another ranging from bright yellows and oranges and even greens. A further distance I see the ocean, rows of white caps lap against the rugged grey rocks exploding back towards the horizon.
This place is paradise nothing like my place back home where we hold ten of us in one small cottage and decide between us all which four of us can shower for the day because of the lack of water to do it with.
"Come with me, were buying you some clothes."
Ove takes my hand pulling me into the closest shop he can find, wearing orange must be too embarrassing for him.
A bell rings as the door closes behind me and he immediately moves to the blue women's clothing section.
"What about orange?"
"You don't live there any more. You are part of my family now, you must dress like us." He hands me two shirts a pair of pants, one skirt and a dress.
I move into the change room to remove my old class' clothes and replace them with the blue dress Ove chose.
I like it, more or less. The baby blue fabric hangs just below my knees with an apron lined with lace. I feel like a princess before she got discovered by her true love. I exit the change room to show Ove, unfortunately I think I have found my life partner.
He nods in approval and takes my hand once again pulling me out of the shop.
"We are meeting up at Laurent de Rouges."
"Who are we meeting?" We move around tables and streets until I see the sign with the words clearly written in handwriting.
"My parents." He opens the door and I expect him to hold it for me as I enter but instead he drops it on my side. We stand in a front entrance and are placed in a seat by a hostess wearing a velvet red vest, slick white tie and black pressed trousers.
Ove sits in across the table from me, now that we are still I can't help but notice his wide jaw, long quaffed brunnette hair which hangs just below his eye and clings together, his full lip, and strong arms. Most would be impressed with the fact that I earned such a man, but I guess in truth I won him by accident. He raises a glass of water slurping and leans back in his chair while I sit with my back straight and sip my water respectfully. I look into his eyes waiting until he wants to engage in some sort of conversation with his new partner but he doesn't seem to have much interest.
"My name is Astrid Solem." I say releasing a weak smile. I take a sip of the cold water behind my empty that carries a slight metallic taste which appalls me but I must keep my form.
"Ove Lyreborg, and your name is Astrid Lyreborg now, I'd get used to addressing yourself as such." He lights a cigarette, at least he has enough manners not to blow it in my face.
I look down at my fidgeting hands, it's hard to bite my tongue when he speaks to me like this. I'm not used to being spoken to with such a tone.
"What can I get for you tonight?" a waiter asks as he approaches us. He also wears a beautiful red vest and stands with such as posture like myself. Why couldn't I end up with a partner like him? I take a moment glancing at the menu.
"Spaghetti Bolognaise if you please." I smile. By habit I choose the cheapest thing possible, money wasn't always easily accessible on my side of town.
"I want the Steak and Crab meal." Ove blirts out, he speaks of other expensive things he feels like having as an appetizer something in French I cannot quite recognize.
The waiter nods and turns away with our order.
"Hello Ove." A woman sits beside him, she is quite fair, I would never have guessed she was his mother just by looking at her. Her hair is thinning but is long and blonde. She looks like a respectable lady, nothing like her son unfortunately. She takes a moment to sit in her seat while her husband sits across from her.
"Mother, Father, this is Astrid." Ove holds out his hands presenting me his lips spread like he is trying to smile but doesn't quite feel up to it, while his hand is out he grabs a small biscuit off a wicker basket bringing it to his lips.
"Hello." His mother smiles and kisses my cheeks. "So tell me about yourself." She folds her small hands under her chin.
"Well my name is Astrid Solem... I mean, Lyreborg." I correct swallowing hard. Based on her eyes watching my face and my hands, that was the wrong thing to say.
"How nice.." She takes a sip of water making sure her red lip doesn't leave a mark on her glass. The waiter returns once again to order the last two meals and leaves back to the kitchen.
"So, where is your family from?" Ove's father asks. His beard is shaped rather eccentrically, the ends curl upwards reaching half way up his cheeks, he must mash wax between the hairs for it to hold it's shape.
I take a deep breath before I speak. "I am from the south end of town? I live in an orange tag family." I raise my glass so I can hide behind it, even though I know it doesn't make a difference.
Ove's father suddenly looses his smile and mumbles some whispers to his wife. With his concrete fists tense. I knew they would have this kind of reaction. They both stop bickering at once and look at Ove who covers his eyes.
"I didn't choose her, I was blind folded and it just happened." he stabs his knife into the table shaking me up before standing to leave.
"Sit down Ove." His father says sharply and grabs his shoulder placing him in his chair effortlessly.
"Astrid you are a lovely lady." He tried to smile at me. "And I look forward to getting to know you better." I can tell he lies to me, I'm sure if he had a choice he would kick Ove's ass back into the Market Place to choose someone of higher class with his eyes open.
"Your wedding will be next Thursday, understand?" Ove rolls his eyes because he knows he cannot refuse his fathers wishes.
Ove slams the table and finishes leaving like he tried to do earlier.
"Don't worry Astrid, it'll come with time." His mother takes my hand trying to assure me, Secretly I can even see within her she is not impressed by me.
We don't eat at the restaurant that night.