PREPARATIONS FOR CTHULHU'S RETURN EW Farnsworth

 

Olive was not the only person hoping Charles would get his act together. The Hudibras couple—both Sir Douglas and his Lady Lucille—were well into planning to orchestrate a celebration high tea on the Saturday just after the proposal. Sheriff Fatty Millstone had finished building out Charles’ and Olive’s new living quarters in the tenement and planned with Sarah to host a feast in the young people’s honour on the Sunday following the Saturday of the high tea. For all these expectations, Charles seemed to be oblivious to the signs of growing social acceptance, but he was completely focused on his beloved’s psychic preparation for the moment he popped the question.

Rigorous about every aspect of his own life, the young man wanted to let Olive know exactly what she would be getting herself in for as his spouse. He had budgeted their time together so his future bride would be aware of how demanding his own schedule would be, what he expected of her as his coworker and wife, and how their family planning would play out once they had agreed to wed. Fatty could only approach the subject of time gingerly as he knew Charles’ hot temper when someone else tried to drive his schedule. Of course, Olive’s parents were on tenterhooks as they were reluctant to pressure their daughter when she was already stressed to her limit in anticipation.

As Olive had now passed all the stringent security requirements for becoming Charles’ partner in every respect, including his most secret, caveated work, she had made the transition from the Cracked Bell pub, where she still was serving as a waitress three days a week, to the Space Command Centre where she had assumed the watch rota with her husband and his team. The couple’s current focus on Cthulhu was a natural outgrowth of Sogguth’s latest despatch informing the prime minister and the sheriff that his wife was expecting their first child, the imagery for whose embryo indicated an astonishing likeness to the tentacled god himself.

The surprise, shock and delight about this propitious pregnancy pleased everyone who was privileged to know about it. Dr Sarah Millstone was fascinated by the prospect of witnessing a birth her late first husband had counselled her to expect to see within her lifetime. From her learned point of view, the early signs were, well, auspicious. She was aware of the historical significance of the god’s return, which overshadowed and even dwarfed the recent alien military escapade at the South Pole. As she put it to her husband, ‘This birthing event will have cosmic dimensions, and it will impact all the old ones, who have spread themselves throughout the universe. Though her return to Earth for the birth will be risky, I believe Sogguth and she have made the right call from all standpoints. After all, if Cthulhu is returning, it will not matter where the birth occurs. It will, however, matter that his return is validated as such.’

Charles said, ‘I agree. The only person I know who has borne anything like the baby in the photographs Sogguth sent is the PM’s amanuensis’ wife. Though hers was a close call, the infant not only survived the birthing but thrived thus far afterwards. In fact, you should be talking with her about the entire process so you can advise Sogguth of psychological factors that he might be observing in his expectant wife.’

Olive smiled. ‘I now have a separate conduit to his pregnant spouse, and I have already been sending her the amanuensis’ recommendations and those of his wife. We are planning to model the newborn’s nursery and furniture on the artifacts now being used by the baby. Dr Sarah has been advising too about symptoms and fears of the mother as well as expectations in the parents, who have no notion of how to care for and raise a god.’

Charles asked, ‘How would you feel if you were the one bearing the Cthulhu god?’

Olive looked at her beau through the sunlight streaming through the glass of the outdoor building they were traversing. ‘I would naturally lean on my husband to support me through every trial. But we are not talking about me now. I don’t even have the prospect of a husband. What a scandal it would be for me to bear a god child under the circumstances.’

Charles was no longer standing by her side. He was on his knees and taking his fair lady’s hand. She felt self-conscious but unusually warm and teary eyed too.

As Lady Lucille stood to her full height to witness the spectacle she sensed must be coming, the young man said, ‘Olive, I have been cruel making you wait so long. Now I fear you will deny what I most need to hear.’

‘And what do you most need to hear, Mr Millstone?’

‘I need to hear you answer the question, “Will you marry me?” —with a yes.’

Olive was now weeping uncontrollably. She needed to grab a hanky, but she did not want to have her beloved pull away his hand from hers. She saw the flash of the diamond in the ring he was already placing on her ring finger. From behind, she felt the tap of Lady Lucile’s finger on her shoulder. With her free hand, she reached back and found the great lady had given her a handkerchief she could use to wipe her nose.

‘Thank you, Lady Lucille, and, to your point, Charles, my answer is yes, I will marry you. Even if it should mean my bearing the like of Cthulhu, the tentacled god.’

From behind, she heard the PM’s wife say, ‘Hallelujah! At last!’

Now she was in her man’s arms, which were pressing her against his strong body. She was being kissed and nuzzled as she had longed to be. Then she remembered her shift at the Cracked Bell pub. She gently pushed Charles away and stood tall. She smoothed out her chiffon dress and blew her nose on Lucille’s handkerchief. Then she was off, saying, ‘I may be late for my shift at the pub. Tell me we shall dine together tonight!’

‘You have made me terribly happy, Olive. Yes for your yes, and we shall meet for dinner tonight at the tenement. There is no problem showing off your new ring. From what I have heard, everyone expects you will be wearing it. When they ask about the wedding, tell them we’ll have the ceremony as soon as possible, and we’ll work out the details for everything else on the fly!’

So, Lady Lucille and Charles Millstone were left among the hordes of butterflies. The Lady said, ‘take your time getting my handkerchief back to me. This Saturday, please bring your fiancé to the Hudibras estate for high tea at four in the afternoon. I understand that on Sunday the sheriff and his wife will host a feast in honour of the occasion. All you must do is show up with Olive at these festivities. Enjoy being the reason for good food and drink. Hadn’t you best let your parents know the good news?’

As if brought out of a deep trance, Charles stammered out his thanks for her support. Then she was smiling as he raced down the hill to find the sheriff first and then the space doctor.

Meanwhile, Olive could not hide the enormous diamond ring that graced her ring finger. Her associates among the wait staff crowded her with a thousand questions, and the newshounds were not far behind them. The tapster knew when to announce, ‘Drinks on the house,’ and like an oversized fairy princess, Olive led the charge to make sure every patron had a fresh pint of bitter. When the furor settled somewhat, Mr Crenshaw and Mr Straight asked all the proper questions about the wedding. She was so happy to be concerned that she had few answers for them, but she promised everything would be clarified in the days ahead.

Crenshaw said, ‘Straight and I knew something extremely good was going to happen for you. Your smile has been beaming, and you have never stood so confident and proud. Please accept my best wishes to you and your lucky future husband. I have seen you two walking in the park on many occasions. We had an anchor pool going about the timing, and I won the pool. So thank you for providing the mystery for our games.’

‘Mr Crenshaw, will you promise not to write scabrous things about Charles and me for your tabloid?’ Her focused gaze brooked no nonsense from the newshounds.

‘Oh, be a good sport, Olive. You know we scribblers would not hurt a fly.’

‘Don’t pretend to be the injured party,’ she rejoined. ‘We both know how you could ruin a lady’s reputation or besmirch a gentleman’s honours with the flick of your hand. Such is the power you wield.’

Crenshaw recoiled for a moment, but he came back fighting. ‘And you, fairy lady, is it not true that with the turn of your head or the bat of your eye, a man can be buoyed up or thrust beneath the waves? La belle Dame sans merci! That’s what you are, and we males are helpless and hopeless on account of your power.’

Considering she had won the day, Olive continued serving pints of bitter until all patrons had enough to drink to quench their thirsts until the last call.

The sheriff made his way to his usual table, and Olive made a special trip to the bar to fetch his pint. When she set the drink before her future father in law, he espied her ring and rose to kiss her on the cheek. He then shouted out, ‘This round is for my future daughter in law, who finally wears the ring my eldest son has given her! She must have said yes to his proposal. Soon, therefore, announcements will clarify the betrotheds’ plans. Believe me, there will be plenty to write about, Newshounds. But now let’s celebrate!’

The carousing and merriment continued through the last call and up to closing time. Fatty was among the first to depart that evening as he wanted to see the happy expressions on the faces of his wife and clones in the hot tub at the tenement. Encouraged by her associates and the barkeep, Olive left the pub early on the sheriff’s arm. They walked up Picklock Lane in the summery night air, with moths beating their wings at the electric lamps and occasional bats winging overhead.

When they reached the tenement, Fatty invited Olive inside to change into bathing attire and join the gathering in the hot tub. There she and Charles were given an ovation, led by Charles’ proud parents. After everyone had seen and admired the ring, Olive announced she must get home to deliver the good news to her own parents. When she had towelled off and dressed again in her chiffon, Charles escorted her all the way home, where her parents were patiently waiting.

Charles said good evening to Olive’s folks, whom he had previously advised that today was the day for his proposal. They pretended not to have known about the proposal, but Olive knew they knew. She was, after all, percipient, and she also knew her future husband would never make a major decision without informing everyone concerned about it beforehand. Charles might have stayed for a drink, except he had a watch section to run at the command centre, a fact Olive knew by the rota. So, the two kissed sweetly before he returned to the tenement.

Olive spent the rest of her evening explaining how the proposal was done and answered, the proof of which was the gigantic diamond on the third ring of her left hand. Before she and her parents retired for the night, Olive reminded them that her new lodging for her husband and herself was ready for occupancy immediately after their honeymoon.