Free First Blast of the Trumpet Against the Monstrous Regiment of Women by Eric McCormack

sons are married and don’t even invite her for a visit. And now she’s old enough to appreciate what she didn’t when she was young—now that it doesn’t exist any more.”
    “Why is she wearing the funny clothes?”
    “They’re her husband’s,” Harry said. “It used to be the custom on San Marco when a man died for his widow to wear his clothes for a while. The islanders stopped doing that kind of thing a long time ago.”
    After telling me all this, Harry put a hand on my shoulder and his eyebrows lowered as they did when he was most serious.
    “You know what, Andy? I’m going to make you a promise right now. If there is a Paradise on this earth, and if I ever find it, I’ll let you know. It’s a bit late for me. But maybe you can go there and live happily ever after. Right?”
    The night after that, a very curious thing happened. Harry and I had gone for a stroll forward. Again, it was around dusk. We stopped at the rail amidships to talk. He liked it there, because it was well away from the crew, and we might have been alone on a little island in the middle of the ocean.
    On this particular evening, we saw a disturbance in the sea about half a mile to port. As it came nearer, clearly visible in the dark water, we could make out a huge yellow shape. It was coming, at speed, directly at the port side of the
Cumnock
. We thought it might veer away when it became aware of us, but it didn’t. This yellow creature, which was as big as the ship, and looked as ponderous, continued straight at us. Both Harry and I grabbed the rail, ready for the impact. But just as it was about to hit, the creature suddenly split into two distinctive forms, one green, one orange, and went round the ship, fore and aft. The
Cumnock
trembled gently from end to end, like a cat being stroked.
    “Come on,” Harry said.
    We ran across the deck to the starboard rail. There we saw the green and the orange masses recombine into thatgreat yellow shape and continue on its way towards the western horizon and the blood-red sun.
    “God’s rope!” said Harry. “I thought for a minute it was going to sink us, whatever it was. Isn’t it strange how something that looks like a monster is really quite harmless.” He looked at me sternly. “You just remember that, Andy. ’Tis often the most innocent-looking creatures that are the real monsters.”
    When we got back to the stern, some of the crew members who had come out on deck to see what had disturbed the ship were still staring in the direction the shape had disappeared in. They seemed scared, and relieved that it was gone.
    On another one of those inseparable days, we were sitting in Harry Greene’s cabin. The weather was rough and the books were stirring on the floor. His chair was like a reef in a sea of books. I sat on his bunk. We were talking about this and that, when all at once his bushy eyebrows lowered.
    “Now, Mister Andrew Halfnight. Let’s get down to business. Who exactly are you? Where do you come from? And why are you on this ship?”
    This was the first time he’d ever asked me these questions. He was a man who preferred to talk about himself and his interests, and I understood that and accepted it. I was flattered that he should ask, so I answered all his questions as well as I could. In fact, I told him just about everything about myself.
    That was the first time I ever put my life story into words. I realized then what a strange procedure that was—how different from the actual experiences themselves. Some of the experiences hadn’t been at all pleasant, but the telling of them was.
    At the end of it all, Harry shook his head.
    “God’s oars!” he said. “So you’re from Stroven. What a coincidence.” Then he said: “I’ve known sailors who came from Stroven. And Muirton, too, and Carrick, and some of those other hill towns. They were good shipmates.”
    Then he spoke very softly, as though it was a great secret.
    “And let me tell you something else.