The Rebellion of Yale Marratt Read online

  THE REBELLION OF YALE MARRATT

  ROBERT H. RIMMER

  All characters and situations in this novel are entirely fictional and any resemblance to any persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Note

  In the last portion of this novel, Yale Marratt creates a foundation called Challenge Incorporated. The similarity in name to that of the original publisher of The Rebellion of Yale Marratt is purely coincidental. In neither fact nor fiction does any familiarity exist.

  For all women, especially two.

  Prologue

  The trial started promptly at nine thirty in the morning. The courtroom was packed five minutes after it opened with a jabbering mob of the curious and prurient. They had waited in the chill October fog with more than a thousand others for a glimpse of Cynthia and Anne, and the man, Yale Marratt, who lived so disgustingly with two women. The freak of a man . . . who had been headlined in the morning papers with that queer one, Agatha Latham, who was going to leave him her entire fortune. The man who it was said had founded a multi-million dollar religion using some strange and weird power he exerted over women both young and old.

  When Ralph Weeks drove the Buick in front of the Buxton County Courthouse, Yale, Anne, Cynthia, and Agatha were immediately surrounded by a mob of excited women who shoved and pushed at each other, yelling and screaming. Some seemed friendly, others stared disdainfully. The police broke a path through the crowd up the steps toward the courthouse.

  Anne grinned at Yale for a fleeting second. "There's no half-way, Yale," she said, "they either love you or hate you."

  Walking side by side, following Agatha who was being helped up the long stairs to the courthouse by Yale and Ralph Weeks, Cynthia and Anne ignored the jibes. For some curious reason many of the women who stared at them seemed to like Yale but were angry at the girls. One woman, slipping by the police, said, "Pay no attention to them, dearies. They're just put out because you two got him and not them. I don't blame you a bit. If he asked me, I'd marry him. You hang onto him." The police pushed the woman back but Anne and Cynthia couldn't help smiling at each other.

  Anne and Cynthia tried to conceal their nervousness. Here and there the milling crowd would feel the impact of their contrasting beauty and the youthful grace in their clean young faces, and would become silent for a moment. It was as if the people staring at them suddenly realized that these were not sordid females championing an unholy alliance, but two lovely girls with a fresh ardor and wonder for life. Were these spectators aware for a second of the proud strength of these women?

  Cynthia, Anne and Agatha were directed to a row of bench-like seats already partially occupied by Barbara and Liz Marratt. Cynthia sat next to Liz, looked at her timidly, and smiled back when Liz squeezed her hand. "Pat isn't coming," Liz said. "I'm sorry it has come to this. I really don't know. . . ." Liz sighed. She looked distraught. "When people see you and Anne they get confused. You look like such nice kids. I think a lot of people feel that if this is the way you want it . . . why does anyone have to interfere? There are worse things. It would be nice if there were some simple solution. . . ."

  Cynthia smiled at her but didn't answer; her eyes were liquid with tears. She tried to grin at Yale who sat next to Saul Angle at the table set aside for the defense. Yale's lips formed the words "stop worrying." But Cynthia couldn't help herself. She prayed by some miracle that they would continue their lives together. The words of Saul Angle kept circling in her brain. "We could work this out, Yale," Saul had said just last night. "It doesn't have to come to trial. Don't forget there are people in this city after you . . . not for bigamy, but for other things. You've stirred up a lot of rancor. People are afraid of what you'll do next."

  Yale had asked Saul just how he proposed to "work it out." Saul had suggested a closed hearing with Judge Rufus Small who would preside on the case. Make an admission of guilt and pay the fine. If they wanted to stay together, then they could move to Mexico or South America.

  Yale had looked at Saul unbelievingly. "Saul . . . you miss the point. Cynthia, Anne and I have work to do right here. We have discussed this thoroughly. I believe that the anti-bigamy statutes in this country were instigated years ago by politicians who used the hatred they unleashed to get themselves elected. I believe that Challenge would be denying its validity and its right to existence regardless of money, if it failed to contest the law. I've told you that I am not proselytizing for bigamy any more than I am for monogamy. In the area of marriage patterns, I believe that the only responsibility of the government is to insist on the kind of marriages and families that will contribute to the perpetuation of society. In the case of my marriage to Anne and Cynthia society has this assurance. Beyond this, society should not interfere."

  While Cynthia could agree, she couldn't allay the fear that she might lose Yale. Worse, she had no confidence that Yale would be able to force society to conform to his views.

  Judge Small entered the courtroom from his chambers and the clerk called the court to order. Ralph Baker, realizing the publicity value of the trial, was prosecuting the case himself. Looking smug and righteous as he made his opening remarks, Baker dramatically let his eyes rove the courtroom.

  Then he turned to the jury. "Bigamy or polygamy is the name given to the crime of unlawful cohabitation with two or more wives," he said, emphasizing each word. "Seventy-five years ago this country was plagued by a group of egomaniacs who insisted that plural marriage, the taking of many wives, was a divine command of their religion. In defense of their beliefs, some of these misguided men went so far as to try to prove that Jesus himself was a polygamist and Martha and Mary Magdalene were his wives. . . ." Baker smiled at the gasp of disgust that he had evoked from the courtroom. He continued: "To prevent the growth of this pernicious doctrine our fathers in their great wisdom agreed with these people that they had the right under the First Amendment to the Constitution to establish a religion. However, when they invoked the First Amendment to the Constitution to protect their right to enslave women and destroy the morals of the state, then our fathers, in their great wisdom, denied that this Constitution would permit a foul doctrine of this kind to sap the roots of the state itself.

  "Polygamy is a heinous crime. In the words of John C. Bennett who in 1842 made a study of life in a polygamous society, polygamists are guilty of infidelity, deism, atheism; lying, deception, blasphemy; debauchery, lasciviousness, bestiality; madness, fraud, plunder; larceny, burglary, robbery, perjury; fornication, adultery, rape, incest; arson, treason and murder. . . ." Baker whipped the words like lashes at the jury who stared at him in horror, then he continued in a softer voice. "In 1882, aware that polygamy must be stamped out in this Christian country, the Congress of the United States clarified the issue for once and all with the Edmunds-Tucker Act which has since become the law of the land, and is the law upon which our own state statutes against bigamy and polygamy are based. Not only is polygamy clearly defined as a crime in the Edmunds-Tucker law but the law in its insistence on eliminating this crime from the land takes away the right to vote of the polygamist thus disenfranchising him as a citizen. The law also permits the husband or wives in a polygamous marriage to be called to the witness stand and, if they wish, they may testify against each other.

  "Today," Baker continued, "we have before us a problem even more dangerous to the welfare of the state than this now repudiated belief in polygamy. More dangerous because the beliefs of the defendant as espoused in that blasphemous book, Spoken in My Manner , do not even have the face-saving grace of divine inspiration. We have before us a young man who thinks, because of his ill-gotten wealth and a future inheritance from a befuddled old woman, that he can defy
the laws of this state. This man has the same kind of awe-inspiring ego complex that motivated men like Hitler and Mussolini; the kind of man who feels that he is some god who can make other men conform to his insane philosophies.

  "We have before us a man who brazenly admits that he has contracted a bigamous marriage, and has the effrontery, despite the evidence, to plead not guilty." Baker's voice cracked with anger. "He pleads not guilty while in the front row of this courtroom are two women whom we will in the next few moments prove to you incontestably are living with him in this county at a place well known to all of us, that they have now chosen to call Challenge Farm. Before I call the first witness and bring this travesty of a trial to a conclusion as quickly as possible, I feel that it is instructive for us to consider what kind of man we are dealing with." Baker picked up a copy of Spoken in My Manner . "Here is what the defendant has the temerity to call the Ninth Commandment of this godless religion called Challenge.

  Baker read slowly. "Challenge believes that its beliefs are so honestly right for today's civilization that if men everywhere would accept them and teach them to their children for several generations . . . eventually a crusade would result that would drive tyranny and oppression and hatred and war from the earth."

  Baker slammed the book shut. "This is the militant article of faith of a man who is intent on destroying our churches, making a joke of our marriage laws, and corrupting the very family system that has carried the Western nations of this world a rung higher up the ladder of civilization than our poor, benighted neighbors who live in slavery in societies that permit bigamy and enslavement of women."

  A hum of approval spread through the court as Baker spoke. There was no denying his ability to sway his audience. Anne and Cynthia listened to him both frightened and disgusted by the half-truths that he stated so impressively.

  Baker was continuing:

  "Whatever magic incantation the attorney for the defense has prepared for you, I know not. It is apparent that all the prosecution has to accomplish in this case is to prove the cohabitation or bigamous marriage of Yale Marratt. Since these marriages have been calmly admitted by the defendant in all his public utterances, we will simply be going through the motions here today for the official record."

  Baker called as his first witness the justice of the peace who had married Yale and Cynthia. The meek, grey-haired man who had wished them luck less than a year ago quickly identified Yale and Cynthia. Their marriage certificate was admitted as evidence. Saul Angle shook his head when asked if he wished to query the witness.

  "As I have pointed out," Baker said, "the law permits, in a case of this kind, any of the wives to testify against her husband. In calling the woman Anne Wilson Marratt to the stand, the witness should fully understand that this is permissive; the law does not insist that she has to testify."

  A hush spread over the courtroom as the spectators craned to see Anne. Dressed in a pale green sheath that clung to her figure, Anne walked crisply to the witness stand, her high heels making an incisive staccato on the wooden floor. She took the oath and sat in the witness chair looking at Ralph Baker with a frankly querulous expression.

  "Since this court has no evidence that a legal marriage has ever taken place between you and Yale Marratt, perhaps you will enlighten us, Mrs. Marratt. Were you or Yale Marratt ever married in a civil or religious wedding ceremony? Before you answer, and before the attorney for the defense raises any objection I will point out to you again that your answer will be considered as evidence against the defendant, and you are not required to answer."

  Saul got up and said quietly, "Your honor, Anne Marratt is well acquainted with what the law does or does not require in this case."

  Anne smiled. "I am proud to answer. Yale Marratt and I were married in a Hindu wedding ceremony by a Hindu priest named Sri Sundari in March of last year, in the village of Talibazar in Assam province." Anne ignored the sudden amazed whispering of the spectators. Several reporters edged toward the door. This was headline stuff within minutes after the trial had opened.

  Anne continued, "While it is not of supreme importance to me, Mr. Baker, I can tell you that Yale, Cynthia and I have checked; my marriage to Yale is recognized as legal by the laws of the United States."

  Baker frowned at her. "It is not necessary for you to teach me the law, young lady," he said drily. "Just answer the questions that I ask you, if you please. Is it true that in March of this year, knowing that Yale Marratt had contracted an illegal marriage with Cynthia Carnell Chilling, that instead of bringing this action to the attention of the law you and Cynthia decided to live under the same roof with Yale Marratt?"

  "Yes," Anne said calmly, smiling at Baker. "We agreed that it seemed to be the most practical thing to do under the circumstances. Since we loved Yale individually it didn't seem an insurmountable problem to join forces."

  A roar of laughter greeted her remark. Judge Small, maintaining a poker face, rapped for order and threatened to clear the court.

  Baker looked at her disgustedly. "It seems superfluous for me to ask whether you have regular sexual intercourse with Yale Marratt."

  "Yes," Anne agreed, "it is superfluous."

  "Then you do have regular sexual intercourse with Yale Marratt?"

  "We are normal human beings," Anne snapped. She looked at Baker disdainfully. "If you want a yes answer, the answer is yes. . . ."

  Baker asked Saul if he wished to question the witness. Saul rose leisurely from his chair. "The court will notice that while the defense has not objected to the manner of questioning the witness, it is not because the defense approves or admires the approach of the prosecution. However, to save the time of this court we wish to make it as simple as possible. . . ." Saul grinned at Baker. "So that even a legal novice could prove, if he wished, that Yale Marratt is responsibly living with, and married to, these two women. The defense feels that Anne Marratt has handled herself creditably. While it has no bearing on this case, the defense would like to point out that the law itself is certainly questionable, regardless of circumstances, that could allow a wife to testify against her husband. The defense has no questions for this witness." Saul sat down, amused at Baker's flushed countenance.

  Baker called Cynthia to the stand. While not quite so self-possessed as Anne, Cynthia looked so virginally fresh with her large brown eyes open and innocent that she unnerved Baker a little. He didn't want to give the impression that he was asking an innocent child dirty, sexual questions. Gently, he queried her on her feelings about sharing the same household with another woman. He wondered if when she married Yale Marratt she was fully aware that he was in fact already married. He probed into her marriage with Mat Chilling, and discovered, to the interest of the spectators, that the child, Adar, was really Mat Chilling's child.

  "What you have really done, Cynthia," Baker said sadly, "is to tolerate this dual relationship and enslave your body to this man's whims for the protection of Mat Chilling's child. Isn't that so?"

  "That is not so, Mr. Baker," Cynthia said indignantly. "I love Yale Marratt. We don't use each other's body as you so disgustingly put it. We share each other's love. In our family we are on an endless voyage of discovery of the possibilities of any human being bridging the gulf of flesh and blood and bones that separates him from another, and by using the gift of our brains instead of animal emotions such as you are invoking, discovering what love really means." Cynthia looked coldly at Baker. "If it will make the situation any clearer to you, Mr. Baker, I love Anne as much as I love Yale, and the children we will have will be taught this kind of love."

  Baker looked at her thoughtfully. "You mean that you are pregnant!" Cynthia smiled. "Both Anne and I will have our babies sometime in April next year."

  Amidst the confusion and excitement that Cynthia's statement made, Baker concluded that the testimony was sufficient for conviction without going further.

  He turned the case over to the defense.

  PART ONE

  Liv
e, my Lesbia, love. I live -- I love you. Not a fig will we care what grim old men say. Setting sun will come back again tomorrow. We, when once our brief daylight has faded, Needs must sleep an unending night forever. -- Catullus

  1

  Pat Marratt drove his Packard convertible slowly down the elm-lined street that bisected the campus of Buxton Academy without speaking to his wife. At the highway he jammed the accelerator to the floor and pushed his massive body back in the seat with a sigh of relief. Yale's graduation day was over at last, capping the disappointment that had been building in him for the past two years.

  "I don't care whose fault it is, Liz. Maybe it's mine maybe it's yours. There's no use of any further postmortems. The plain truth is that I don't know what the hell I'm going to do about Yale. As for Buxton Academy . . . thank God we don't have to continue driving up here once a month." Pat looked at his wife expectantly, wondering why their son's failure to be admitted to one of the Ivy League colleges didn't seem to bother her.

  "Please watch the road, Pat! I can hear you without you looking at me . . . especially when you are roaring in that frustrated executive voice." Liz Marratt took off her hat, a wide-brimmed straw affair decorated with artificial flowers. She flung it carelessly on the back seat. "God" she moaned, "it really was an ordeal. I think those deans and professors just gloat over graduations. Did you ever hear such a collection of platitudes and nonsense? Right out of Benjamin Franklin with a little frosting added." She fiddled with her girdle. "You'll have to stop at the next filling station, Pat. I can't stand this thing a minute more. It's cutting me to pieces."

  "That's about how much Yale has worried you over the past few years," Pat said grimly. "Your son has been turned down by every major college in the East. Now he has the nerve to tell me that I should send him to Europe for a year just to bum around. . . . And you worry about a tight girdle!"

  "My son! He's your son, too!" Liz retorted. "How much time have you spent with Yale in the last four years? All you have ever done is gripe to me. You complain that he reads too much. Yet . . . what do you know about him? No one can get close to Yale. Your only contribution was teaching him how to play golf. He confided to me last summer that he only played to please you. Golf bores him."