Now the whole pact-sealed-with-consummation made more sense. Kar Yee, the pragmatist, asked the most pertinent, nonsexual question we all were thinking: “He can’t live underwater—how was he supposed to be your husband?” “Our agreement was that he would visit me once a fortnight,” the first head explained. “He only upheld the bargain for one year,” the second added. “He promised me a lifetime,” said the third. “I was young and reckless,” the captain argued. “You were thirty and eight years,” Onna said in unison. He tried again. “I was doing a lot of coke. I wasn’t in my right mind. I didn’t think she really meant forever, you know? Then I got set up by that damned hedonist erotic cruise company and went to jail for six months . . .” He turned to Lon with a thoroughly misguided help-a-brother-out look.
