pallidum and such – because I had been drilled and drilled in `Always use a rubber
except when you want a baby’, and my girls had been trained the same way. I didn’t
mention the far more numerous times when I had happily skipped those pesky sheaths
because I was pregnant and knew it. Such as the night before. Avoiding disease does
not depend on anything as trivial as a rubber purse; it depends on being very, very
fussy about your intimates. A woman can catch something bad in her mouth or in her
eyes just as quickly as in her vagina – and much easier. Am I going to copulate with
a man without kissing him? Let’s not be silly.
I can’t recall ever using a rubber after Theodore explained exactly how to chart my
fertile span. Or ever again failing to ring the cash register when I wished to.
Then I heard, ` – 29 October 1929.’
I blurted, ‘Huh? But you said you were leaving in 1926. August second.’
My husband said, ‘Pay attention, Carrot Top. There will be a quiz Monday morning.’
Theodore said, ‘Maureen, I was speaking of Black Tuesday. That is what future
historians will call the greatest stock market crash in all history.’
`You mean like 1907?’
‘I’m not sure what happened in 1907 because, as I told you, I studied closely only
the history of the decade I planned to spend here – from the gear after the end of
this War until shortly before Black Tuesday, 29 October, 1929. That ten years from
after the First World War -‘
‘Hold it! Doctor, you said “First World War – ” First?’
‘Doctor Johnson, except for this one Golden Age, from 11 November 1918 to 29 October
1929, there are wars all through this century. The Second World War starts in 1939,
and is longer and worse than this one. Then there are wars off and on – mostly on –
the rest of this century. But the next century, the twenty-first century, is far
worse.’
Father said, ‘Ted. The day war was declared. You were simply speaking the truth as
you saw it. Weren’t you?’
‘Yes, sir.’
`Then why did you enlist? This isn’t your war… Captain Long.’
Theodore answered very softly, ‘To regain your respect, Ancestor. And to make
Maureen proud of me.’
`Mrrph! Well! I hope that you will never regret it, sir.’
`I never will.’
Thursday was a busy day indeed; Eleanor and I, with the aid of all my older children
and all her older children, with much help from Sergeant Theodore as my aide-de-camp
(‘dog robber’ he called it, and so did Father – I declined to let them get my goat),
with some help from our spouses and from Father – Eleanor and I mounted a formal
church wedding in only twenty-four hours.
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Oh, I must admit that Eleanor and I had done spadework ahead of time – guest lists,
plans, alerting of minister and janitor and caterer as soon as Brian’s first phone
call had made it possible, engraving of invitations on Tuesday, envelopes addressed
on Wednesday by her two best penmen, invitations delivered by my two boys and two of
hers, with RSVP to Justin’s office by telephone, etc., etc.
We managed to have the bride dressed correctly and on time because Sergeant Theodore
displayed another unexpected talent: ladies’ sempstress – no, sempstor – no, I think
it must be ladies’ tailor. I had already accomplished my prime purpose of using
Eleanor’s special telepathic talent by having Theodore drive me to Eleanor’s house
out south on Thursday morning and there putting my problem to her bluntly – speeding
things up by peeling my clothes off the instant the door was locked on El and me in
her private apartment, then bringing her up to date – then Eleanor had her maid show
Theodore to El’s private suite.
Never mind the sweaty details; in another thirty minutes Eleanor reported to me,
‘Maureen love, Theodore believes every word of what he has been telling us,’ which
Theodore countered by pointing out that every Napoleon in every insane asylum