Paula Guran - The Mammoth Book of Cthulhu

The grocer would not look at me. His face was a red mask of suffering and I could see the way his fists clenched. He would have hurled stones at me if he could. “There shall be no food for you, Miss Arkwright, not ever again. So don’t you come back, d’you hear? No more of that devil’s bargain, there shall be nothing given between mine and yours, not ever!”

But I did not make the journey to speak with him and so his curses meant very little to me. It is as Nan said, they will not touch me, not ever — for it is they who are afraid and their fear is well deserved.

Tom has filled out very nicely even without his handsome black suit. His hands are strong worker’s hands with thick pad on his thumbs. He has been raised coarsely but even I can see there is finer stuff within.

“You there!” I call to him.

He’s mute.

“Tom!”

“What is that you want, miss ?”

“I wanted to tell you about your mother.”

“My father is watching us right now,” he tells me sullenly. “He’ll go get the others if there’s any trouble. The deal’s broken now, isn’t it? We don’t want no more of it. You shouldn’t be here.”

But I ignore all this. The agreement isn’t necessary any longer. I’ve found a way to manage on my own. I have looked to my studies just as Nan said.

“Don’t you want to know what your mother had to tell you?”

He looks at me uncertainly. I know this is cruel, that I’m teasing him a little, but he was cruel to me once as well. I can’t help it.

“Very well then.”

“Wait!” he calls as I begin to cross the street. “Please! Wait, miss! What did she—” he’s almost shuddering now “—did she say something to me? Did she give you a message?”

I turn to look at him once more. He’s standing at the edge of the porch, straining forward. I can see that he’s breathing very heavily and his eyes are wet and shining like glass.

“She said she loves you very much. She says she longs to hold you in her arms once more. Will you come to her?”

I do not tell him the truth. I know what she whispers. She whispers, “ Morieris ” — and so it is, but not yet, not yet.

“I don’t know what you mean, miss.” I watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down.

“You know well enough, Tom.” His lips are very red. It is lonely without Nan, oh, not so lonely as you would think — I have my studies after all! — but still lonely enough.

“Come if you like, Tom,” I say, smiling my very best smile. From here I can almost taste the salt of his tears. How magnificent you are, I want to tell him! You carry within yourself the stuff of eternal life — and yet you shed it so easily! “The way goes down and down and down but it isn’t so difficult. And we shall be ever so happy to have you join us for a while.”

Sandra McDonald’s story draws specifically on H. P. Lovecraft’s ideas and language, albeit in a unique way. Its setting is R’lyeh, the city under the waves with its “slimy green vaults,” a place that calls to the darkness in all of our hearts.

McDonald served as a commissioned officer in the US Navy for eight years and remains fascinated by issues of tradition and protocol. More than seventy of her short stories and eight novels are in print, ranging from young adult to military science fiction to paranormal romance. Her first collection of fiction, Diana Comet and Other Improbable Stories , was a Booklist Editor’s Choice, an American Library Association Over the Rainbow Book, and winner of a Lambda Literary Award for transgender fiction. She holds an MFA in creative writing from the University of Southern Maine and teaches college in Florida.

Sometimes the nature of your husband’s work means you will not know exactly where he is going, or for how long, or what he will be doing in service to the Old Ones. He may not be able to answer questions you pose or discuss other details of his deployment. You might roll over in bed one gray, dreary morning to find him already gone. Perhaps he will return shortly, or several months from now, or not at all. But the little ones need breakfast or changed diapers, so get up with good cheer and face the day. A Navy wife never shirks from duty.

Many times your husband’s job will be “classified” and the details available only to those who “need to know.” As a Navy wife, you do not “need to know” anything beyond what it takes to keep your husband satisfied and your household run efficiently here in the city of R’lyeh under the waves. Put aside your worries and focus your energy on activities such as church, scouting, and baking contests. You and your family will be happier if you keep busy and useful.

Do remember, however, that effective security is the best way to protect our way of life and keep the Earth secure. This protection can only be as strong as the citizens who use common sense in their actions and speech.

Therefore, never press your husband for details about his job. Do not gossip with the other wives about ship schedules or activities, even when taking tea with the captain’s wife. Do practice the good habit of saying “I don’t know” if asked unnecessary questions by strangers. Do not be curious.

An important part of being a military wife is understanding that there are some things you can not know. Your life depends on it.

A military career requires many transfers and promotions. Details of your moving and transportation allowances will always be made available to you. Here is a word of advice from experienced wives: smile! We genuinely mean that. Your changes in station will be much less nerve-wracking if you keep your sense of humor and appreciate the uniqueness of each new location.

For instance, when you first moved here to R’lyeh you were frustrated by the narrow streets and alleyways that fold back on themselves like the long slimy tentacles of a mammoth sea creature. The foul climate and frigid waters made you long for the days of your girlhood, when the sun still shone in skies still blue. The thick mud and foul ooze that cover the city made it difficult to keep your carpets clean, and the reverberant bells from broken church spires gave you headaches that took root deep in your skull and blossomed with thorns.

Now, however, you drift through the city on currents of complacency, content to be pulled by forces beyond your control. You let the cold waters seep into you without struggle or concern. The ache in your head has faded to a dull throb that only flares when you think of those blue skies and lost sun. You beat the carpets with stones and soak in the gray-green sludge that fills your ceramic tub.

We know you are happy here in R’lyeh under the waves. We watch you with our unblinking eyes.

Yet one day your husband may come with news that you are transferring to Arkham or Innsmouth, or perhaps even Providence. Be flexible, as the move may be quite sudden. Set aside any grimoires or tinctures that you wish to carry yourselves. Cooperate with the movers and packers. They’ll appreciate some sweet iced tea or hot coffee while they work. Freshly baked cookies are always a nice treat.

Be aware that throughout your husband’s career, the way you furnish your house or apartment will reflect on him and your decorating skills. Versatile furniture works best. For instance, chests of drawers inscribed with ancient runes can be used in living rooms as well as bedrooms. When shifting from one home to the next, keep in mind that a bucket of paint can cover wall glyphs to better blend with family furnishings passed from generation to generation. If you are renting, however, don’t even paint a shelf until the landlord (and your husband!) give permission.