When All Is Said And Done

1987 - And Then There Was One - Alone

I knew Red was angry with me and I was angry that she was angry. Thus do stupid situations arise. We had had a strange previous few weeks; although not together for much of the time, when we were, Red was slightly argumentative, which was very out of character. She also seemed a bit distant as if her thoughts were taking her far away. I must confess that I wasn't much better myself. The body was starting to tell me about all the things I had let happen to it over the years. I suppose I could use this as an excuse for not paying more attention but it would be a lie. Also Pics was still much on my mind. The exit count was again starting to mount.
The bottom line was that I was sick and tired of everything. Sick of the bloodshed, sick of the fighting, sick of guns, sick of seeing my friends exit, sick of the punishment my own body was constantly taking, sick of being afraid, sick of the constant travel, and most of all sick of the times that Red and I were separated.
I wanted a small house we could call our own; To work 9 to 5 Monday to Friday and stop off for a couple of drinks with friends on my way home each evening

To sit and watch Bugs Bunny cartoons on a Saturday morning along with millions of other husbands. I wanted the anticipation of Christmas, to put up decorations and trim a tree. These things had become very important.
Plus, I was now at an age when looking back becomes very easy, the results from all your actions and inactions horribly clear. At that time my walls were still firm but I could hear many truths pounding on the door. I wanted out and had just about made up my mind to speak to Red about it.
* * *
We were in the south island of New Zealand and it was winter - hate winter.
But the change away from normal surrounds was good for both of us.
I thought Red was starting to show the signs of being a 'mature lady'. The little lines around her eyes were that bit more pronounced and (at last) she had put on a few pounds, not many but enough to give her a bit of extra padding. Over the years the sun had brought her freckles into the open and now, I am glad to say, she usually didn't bother to try and cover them up. To me that freckly face was part of the woman I loved. She didn't laugh quite so much these days but when she did, it was still a clear honest laugh that never spoke of deception.
We had only been together for twelve years, yet I couldn't remember a time without her. On paper, even if illegal, we had been married for two years. In reality I think we had really been married since the first day I saw her.
It must have been a strange existence for Red always being with eight or so not too sophisticated males. Even with her own 'differences', she must, at times, have felt a bit isolated. Again, at the time we were all just so glad that she was there that we didn't give much thought, if any, to the situation. We were all a bit selfish.

It was not an assignment as such. I had just been asked to give a situation report to a group of tanker owners regarding the pirate situation in and around the South China Sea. Few people realise how prevalent pirates are but they are pretty small time and don't hit larger vessels. I couldn't see where a large, properly manned, tanker underway was in much danger. For a start it would have caused too much publicity, forcing reluctant authorities to actually do something about it. Not at the present time, however, if the business went unchecked I could see it happening in the future. Piracy was growing and it was no hap hazard operation. No matter what I said I couldn't get it across that pirates were part of the money making machine of extremists and terrorists. Well, if they didn't want to listen, they could all go to hell.
I thought Queenstown was a stupid place to hold the pow-wow but it was not for me to comment. Red came along as she had a yearning for snow. I suppose when you grow up in a cold country you would get a bit tired of palm tress, sandy beaches, clear blue water, and warm balmy days - in case you missed it, I am being facetious. But that's being unkind. I had forgotten that she was, like me, the product of a colder part of the world and must, at times, yearn for something from her past.

I was now 41 years old and Red was 42. As I said, we had been 'together' for want of a better word for just on 12 years. Yet we had never shared a home, just hotel rooms and ships cabins. I guess we thought that the situation was right for us. At times they were prolonged hotel and ship stays, each year I suppose we 'lived' together for around six months. How time does fly. I knew I hadn't worn that well. My hair had a lot of gray; there was a multitude of dents, cuts and bruises all over my body. Whereas Red looked just about the same as that day I first met her, with Max at the Wentworth in Sydney.

The argument started in the hotel on the evening after I had given my verbal report. I got back to the hotel and found Red at a table in the lobby bar. There was no greeting smile, the one I had come to rely on.
A document lay on the table in front of her and I recognised it as one of my assignment reports. I had brought along reference material regarding pirate activities, which had become my passion - including the report about our action against the 'Toppai', the one report I had taken care never to let Red see.
As I sat down I could see she had been drinking, there was that slight 'hollowness' in the eye. Plus she looked ... confused. She leaned back in the seat, drink in hand and nodded towards the report. Somehow, when she did this, I felt as if a door was starting to close. Don't ask me to describe the feeling as I can't, it's just what it was.
"Tell me about the Toppai" she said - it was a very quiet voice.
I picked the report up but didn't open it. That night was long ago. The memory had been securely locked away and I had no wish to open the safe door.
"Nothing to tell that isn't in here", I replied. "I assume you read it".
She was very silent, just looking at me as if she hadn't seen me before. Then,
"You never told me. You lied".
There was nothing I could say, she was right but it had been for her own good. I had built my internal walls against the ugliness of reality. The Ducks had built a wall of silence to shield Red from the same. It was done out of love by all of us.
"How many men Harry"? It was spoken quietly. "How many men did you slaughter"?
I could feel a slight anger rising in me. Assumed guilt, no, I wasn't having that. Yet, if I were honest with myself, there was guilt there. Could I have handled the situation in a different manner, one with a less bloody outcome? I pulled up short, these were not only bad thoughts they were also useless thoughts, there was no purpose to them, and nothing could be changed.
"I didn't 'slaughter' any men. I exterminated some vermin, nothing more".
It was the wrong thing to say.
"How many Harry"? She now leaned forward almost hissing the words.
"If you have to know - about twenty five". I didn't say that, at least, one was a woman.
She slumped back in the chair.
"My god! Twenty five people".
"Twenty five rodents, not people". I was now getting a bit fed up with the whole thing. It was starting to stir unwanted thoughts - a woman's body in the light of flames.
"And if I hadn't got rid of them they would have killed many more than that".
I signaled to a waiter for a gin and tonic. Red was still staring at me.
"No remorse Harry"?
"No, no remorse" but for the first time I couldn't meet her eye.
It was a lie but I wasn't going to tell her about that, not now anyway.
About the nights I had woken up in a sweat, hearing the thunder of gunfire and the screams and the smell that always appears when a ship is sinking. All ships reek as they sink.
Of Taff being sick, and Morbid with tears in his eyes, Chris silently crying and poor lost Pics wandering the deck, confused.
I looked down, there was my drink on the table, and I hadn't even seen the waiter bring it.
Red stood up.
"I'm going to our room". She placed a hand on my shoulder but kept looking straight ahead. "Don't come up just yet". Now this bit is hard to explain but as she walked away I got the impression that she had almost become transparent. I could plainly see her slowly making her way to the lift, but she was 'intangible'. That's probably the wrong word but it was the one that sprang to mind at the time. I felt an icy knife in my stomach; something was happening over which I had no control or understanding. I shook the feeling off, telling myself that I was just tired and imagining things; either that or plain 'getting old'.
I should have felt lousy ... I did feel lousy but anger had taken control.
I had done a job that needed doing. The talkers and counselors of this world would have still been sitting around a table talking about what to do. In the meantime hundreds would, not could, would have died.
I, the Ducks, we had done something about it. The pirate traffic still continued, we had only taken out a small part of the operation but at least we done something besides talk. I knew that one day I would return to that theatre, there was still much to do.
OK if she wanted to play funny buggers that was all right by me. I did what I did because it had to be done. I wasn't the villain of the story ... I wasn't?
What I was forgetting in my curious state of mind was just how much this unique woman meant to me. The times we had been through together, what she must have given up to stay with me. I should have been accepting the fact that Red had every right to feel the way she did, and pondering how much better her life could have been if she had never met me.
I stayed in the bar for an hour then took myself out. It was snowing and even though my clothes were too light for this sort of weather, I didn't feel the cold.
There isn't really anything to do in Queenstown, especially for someone just wandering around. I found a small bar that seemed to be full of business people enjoying after work drinks.
It was such a sane, normal place, with sane normal people that I stayed for a while. When a Mucky Duck becomes a Lone Duck he finds that he doesn't really fit in the lives of others, the normal ones - he's surplus to requirement. Still, it was nice just to listen in on other conversations. They talked of bad bosses, of mortgages, of children, of sport, of anticipated holidays - and I loved every minute of it.
I got back to the hotel at around 11pm. Red was asleep and I left her that way. Even when I got into bed, I knew that tonight, for me, she wasn't really there. I did think of waking her for a chat but at the last moment chickened out. The dawn would set everything right, it always did.

The next morning Red was up and out before I woke. I went down and had breakfast, again alone. At around 9 am she joined me in the lobby. She was wearing a short fur coat, more like a fur jacket, which I assume had come with her from Europe, it must have been in storage for a long time.
"Walk with me" she said and without waiting headed for the door.
I got up and followed her outside. It was still gently snowing. The air was very still and sounds seemed to be muted as if far away. I was reminded of coming home from school for the Christmas holidays. The land and trees surrounding the house carried the same impression of nature resting. We walked out of the town centre and into parkland. As yet not a word had been said. Once in the open she stopped.
"Who are you Harry", she asked in a small husky voice.
I didn't get it.
"What sort of a question is that"?
"The Toppai - I do not know the man who did the things you did". Her accent seemed to be more pronounced.
So, we were still there. That blasted ship was never going to let me have peace.
"Yes you do", I was again trying to keep my voice soft. "It's the same man you have been with for the past twelve years".
"No" it came out slowly "That is a different man, a gentle, kind man". She paused. "Not a killer of men for money". The words stunned me. I don't know why I had such a severe reaction, perhaps it is true and 'nothing hurts more than the truth'.
Was that how she saw it? Were the Ducks nothing but mercenaries to her? I saw a different kind of red. The words tumbled out.
"How dare you"? I said, "I am not a bloody mercenary, I do what I do for good reasons, not just money". She turned and faced me, voice still small and distant. I almost fell back in surprise; there it was again that illusion of transparency. The world was not quite as it should be; I was seeing things as if in the lens of a defective camera. There was no park, no trees, no snow, just the two us, nowhere.
"But that is your motto isn't it, No Flags, No Medals, Just the money"? No longer 'our' motto, now it was 'your' motto.
How dare she? She should never have said that, it took away our honor, what we had left of it, it made mockery of all we were, or had become.
"I just never thought of it before". Her eyes never left mine.
I placed my hands on her shoulders.
"What, got a bit much for you has it"? I was searching for hurtful words "You liked it when we went away and had our little adventures - has reality only just got to you. God you make me sick. You accept everything until you have to face facts about the price - and there is always a price Red my dear old friend ... always", she tried to pull away but there was no strength in the attempt, she was sort of limp.
"Is the price never too high Harry"?
I squeezed her shoulders and she winced, not in pain, I could never do that, more in bewilderment.
"Perhaps Red, perhaps. What's your price, sleeping with the boss"?
"Stop Harry ... please".
"Yes I'll stop", I let go of her. "Just go away". I was myself too hurt to go on.
"Harry, please, I love you, just try and understand it is much. Too much ..." I though she was about to falter but then went on and her voice had become very firm. "Now is the last chance Harry. Step back now before it's too late. That's all you have to do, step back and we can be together for ever".
She struggled for more words and I, who should have softly pulled her towards me, kissed her and just gently held her, remembering all this woman had done for me, all the love she had given, instead plunged a verbal knife into her loving and hurting soul.
"Just leave will you, go back to your dyke wife or husband, whatever she is",
And then the biggest lie of my life.
"I don't want you around anymore".
She just looked at me for a second or two. There were no tears but the look she gave me was of a wound too deep for tears, a look that no mortal man should ever see. The light had finally been extinguished and I was the one that put it out. I had sunk to the bottom of humanity, becoming the most hateful creature nature ever allowed to walk this earth. It was the last act of my life as a human being, I don't know what I became in that instant of time, there wasn't enough humanity left for it to have a face.
Slowly she turned and walked softly away. There was no backward glance, no appeal.
For a second I wanted to run after her. To grab to her and tell her how sorry I was. That it was all a lie, that I was nothing without her - But being the world's biggest fool, I did nothing. I stood in a silent white world and watched my life begin to grow small as she faded into the falling snow and it got cold.
Except in dreams that haunt me to this day, I never saw Red again.

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From Plates Morgan
I think Harry got the last bit of this chapter wrong. It wasn't where the last of 'humanity' as he put it, left him. Rather, I think, it is where it struggled to come back. He just suddenly, clearly, saw what he had become, what we all had become and he found it 'ugly'.
A few months prior to this event I had overheard a conversation between Harry, Taff and Morbid. We had all had a few drinks and it was late into the night. Harry was talking about the house he had lived in as a very young boy.
"During the winter months", he said, "nights were not much fun for a kid. I slept in a huge bed in a cold, large ancient bedroom a fair distance away from any other occupied room. In fact it was the only bedroom in use in that wing of the house. There was a fire place and it wasn't too bad when there were flames to give a bit of cheer to the place but when it died down to embers it got very spooky. There was a fire guard around the hearth and this had a large vertical bar in the centre. From the bed this split the view of the fire in half making the glowing embers look like two red eyes. Across the room there were French windows that led out to a small balcony, these were great in summer but on winter nights the wind made them rattle as if somebody tapping at the door.
I found the answer to the problem by discovering what every child learns and that's that the ultimate defense against things that go bump in the night is to simply slip beneath the covers.
Mrs Thompson bought me a night light. It was quite bulky as it those days it took a bit to reduce the power down to something the size of a torch bulb. I took this under the covers with me along with food, drink, comics and books. An old wooden coat hanger became a sort of tent pole to prop up the heavy covers turning the bed into a small warm, cozy cavern.
Outside of the bed there was a large, dark, cold room set in a very large cold dark house, which itself was set in large cold grounds surrounded by trees turned to skeletons by the winter. But - under those covers I could slip away into a different word created by my comics and books. Nothing could touch me there.

While she was there I think Red became that 'safe place' for Harry. When she was gone, well, I think he just couldn't find another one.
.........................................

From Sylvia
I have to say something about this episode. For a seaman/photographer Plates got pretty close to the truth. I have no idea about some of the things Harry describes. Logic doesn't tell us that premonitions don't exist; it merely indicates that they are unlikely. Yet, if we are to believe him, Harry did sense that something big was about to happen. It could be that it was this ability that helped to keep him alive during those terrible years.
Being seamen and rather 'quaint' in their thinking, the Ducks believe that Red was not a mortal person, that she was somebody sent to Harry's side to help him through the years and that when the allotted time was over, she got called back to from wherever she came.
I am far more practical. I believe that it was just a coincidence that she had the combined face, eyes, hair and personality of the all the women Harry had ever cared about before he met her. There is sufficient unreality in this story without adding the supernatural.
However, in discussion with CT he did make one interesting observation. Following an operation back in around 1979, they were lounging around on the deck of a ship, which was in the process of bringing them home and he glanced over to where Harry was having a little doze in a shaded area. Then he looked towards Red. She was watching Harry in a peculiar way. CT said that, for a second, she looked exactly like a female tiger watching over an almost adult cub.
"How so", I asked.
"Well, I have seen the same look on the face of a female tiger. She appeared to be resting but you could see she wasn't. She was alert for something that could hurt her cub. You got the impression she was ready to attack anything that got too close".
I had often wondered who was the stronger of the two; this led me to believe that it was Anna Minet. I have no idea who she was but she was something very special. I also wondered how he continued without her but the answer, although sad, is obvious. Red, isn't really gone, she lives in Harry every day of every long year. She will always be with him, unseen and untouchable but there. This is not a healthy situation but one that no mortal will change, I wish it were otherwise.

WHEN ALL IS SAID AND DONE

1987 - And Then There Was One - Alone