Ishtar, and Hamadryad – and co-husband to another, Ira Weatheral. Probably –
certainly – other connections, but Maureen was right; I checked the archives only
for my own ancestors. I didn’t guess that I would meet you, El of the beautiful
belly. I’m almost through. Shall I go ahead and make the alterations? Or do we take
this to your ladies’ sempstress?’
El said, `Maureen? I’m willing to risk the dress; I have confidence in Lazarus – I
mean M’sieu Jacques Noir. But I won’t risk it for Nancy’s wedding without your
permission.’
I answered, ‘I don’t have any judgement about Theodore, or Lazarus, or whatever name
he’s using today – I mean this stud who’s treating me like a dressmaker’s dummy. But
Sergeant, didn’t you tell me you had retailored your breeches yourself? Pegged
them?’
‘Oui, Madame.’
` “Oui, Madame” my tired back. Where did you leave your pants, Sergeant? You should
always know where your pants are.’
‘I know where they are!’ said El, and fetched them.
`Around the knees, El. Turn them inside out and look.’ I joined her in checking
Theodore’s tailoring. Shortly I said, `El, I can’t sec where they were altered.’
‘I can. See? The original thread is just barely faded; the thread he used in
altering is the same shade as the cloth of the outlets – the cloth that has not been
in sunlight.’
I agreed. ‘Hmm, yes, once I get it into stronger light. If I look closely.’
El looked up . ‘You’re hired, boy. Room, board, ten dollars a week, and all the tail
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you can use.’
Theodore looked thoughtful. ‘Well… all right. Though I usually get paid extra for
that’
El looked surprised, then laughed merrily, ran to him, and started rubbing tits
against his ribs. `I’ll meet your terms, Captain. What is your stud fee?’
‘I usually get the pick of the litter.’
`It’s a deal.’
The wedding was beautiful and our Nancy was dazzlingly lovely in a magnificent dress
that fitted her perfectly. Marie was flower girl; Richard was ring bearer, both in
Sunday white. Jonathan was (to my surprise) in formal cutaway, ascot in pearl grey
with pearl stickpin, grey striped trousers, spats. Theodore was his best man, in
uniform; Father was in uniform and wearing his many medals and acting as usher and
groomsman; Brian was utterly beautiful in boots and Sam Browne and spurs and sabre
and his ’98 medals and forest-green jacket and pinks.
Carol was maid of honour and almost as dazzling as the bride in lime-green tulle and
her bouquet. Brian junior was the other usher and groomsman and was dressed in his
grammar-school graduation suit; brand new only two weeks earlier – double-breasted
blue serge and his first long pants and very grown-up in his manner.
George was charged with just one duty, to see to it that Woodrow kept quiet and
behaved himself, and was authorised to use force as necessary. Father gave George
this instruction in Woodrow’s presence… and Woodrow did behave himself; he could
always be counted on to act in his own self interest.
Dr Draper did not indulge in any of the nonsense with which the Reverend Timberly
had almost spoiled my wedding; he used the M.E. service straight out of the 1904
Discipline, not a word more, not a word less… and in short order our Nancy was
going back down the aisle on her husband’s arm to the traditional strains of the
Mendelssohn recessional, and I sighed with relief. It had been a perfect wedding, no
rough spots whatever, and I thought to myself how dumb founded Mrs Grundy would have
been had she seen a majority of the wedding party thirty-six hours earlier, behind
locked doors, in a gentle orgy inaugurating Carol’s Day.
It was the first celebration of the holiday that would spread at the wave front of
the diaspora of the human race: Carol’s Day, Carolmas, Carolita’s Birthday (it was
not!), Fiesta de Santa Carolita. Theodore had told us what it had become (would
become) – the midsummer fertility rite for all planets, anywhere. Then he had
toasted Carols graduation to womanhood in champagne, and Carol had answered his