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Melda, still holding the Tessie-thing by the hair
(it fights and kicks, but she’s hardly aware of
it), spins clumsily in the water and sees her,
standing at the rail of her ship in her cloak of
redHer hood is down, and Melda sees she is not
even close to human, she is something other,
something beyond human understandingIn the
moonlight her face is ghastly and full of knowing
Rising from the water, thin skeleton arms salute
her
The breeze blows apart the snakes of her hair;
Melda sees the ladies watches gucci third eye in Perse’s forehead; sees
it seeing her, and all will to resist is snuffed
out in an instant
At that moment, however, the head of the bitchgoddess
snaps around as if she has heard something
or someone tiptoeing up behind her
She cries What?
And then: No! Put that down! Put it down! YOU
CAN’T DO THAT!
But apparently Libbit can – and has – because the
shape of the thing at the ship’s rail wavers,
turns wateryand then becomes nothing but
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moonlightThe skeleton arms slither back wallet chanel beneath
the water and are gone
The Emery-thing is gone, too – disappeared – but
the twins shriek together in shared pain and
desolation at their abandonment
Melda cries to the Mister It’s goan be all right!
She turns the one she’s had by the hair a-loose
She doesn’t think it will want anything to do with
the living, not now, not for awhile
She cries Libbit’s done done it! She -
John Eastlake shrieks GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY
DAUGHTERS, YOU BAD NIGGER!
And he fires the harpoon pistol for the second
time
Do you omega moon watch see it strike home, piercing Nan Melda
through? If so, the picture is complete
Ah, God – the picture is complete
20 – Perse
i
The picture – not the last full-blown Edgar
Freemantle work of art, but the second-to-last -
showed John Eastlake kneeling on Shade Beach with
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his dead daughter beside him and the sickle moon,
just risen above the horizon, behind himNan
Melda stood thigh-deep in the water, with one
little girl on either side of her; their damp,
upturned faces were drawn long in Tiffany Earrings expressions of
terror and rageThe shaft of one of those short
harpoons protruded from between the woman’s
breastsHer hands were clasped upon it as she
looked unbelievingly at the man whose daughters
she had tried so hard to protect, the man who had
called her a bad nigger before taking her life
“He screamed,” I said”He screamed until his nose
bledUntil he bled from one eyeIt’s a wonder he
didn’t scream himself into a cerebral hemorrhage
“There’s no one on the ship,” Jack said”Not in
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