Page 239 of Storm over the Caribbean
“Since meeting and getting to know my wife, my views of the fairer sex have changed dramatically,” I continued, speaking the complete and utter truth. In the past, I had merely regarded females as a mild annoyance. Now, though? Locust plagues were less dangerous. Also much less threatening to my wallet, as evidenced by a recent atrocity called shopping trip. “Women play an integral part in our lives. We live with them, wetrustthem…” With a pregnant pause, I sent a glare at my even more pregnant wife. The one who had gotten me into this whole mess. “Never do we realise how horrific it would be if, one day, that trust were to be betrayed.”
Folding her hands over her baby bump, she glanced away and started to whistle in a way a fool might consider innocent.
“Now, some might say that is unlikely, but I know what women have to go through on a daily basis.”Mostly because I am the inventor of the twenty-two hour workday, but who cares about such details?“Day in, day out, they have to work, and work, and work, and never receive a word of thanks or recognition for it.”As long as they work for me, at least. After all, it would be foolish to waste my time and breath on something so useless.“Why, some even have towork while they are pregnant!”
Boos and jeers rose from the outraged crowd. And, for once, I wholeheartedly agreed with them. Watching my wife race through the office with twenty pounds of files in her arms was quite the pleasant experience. But doing the same while she was pregnant?
“I say, enough! I say, it is time we start treating women differently! It is time we treat them exactly. How. They. Deserve.”
Such as tying them to a bed so they can’t overwork themselves during pregnancy. Or forcing them to do needlework, dust and wash dishes at home till they beg for forgiveness for making me go through with this charade.
The boos were swiftly replaced by cheers and clapping. Would they still be clapping if they knew how, right now, I was fantasising about tying my darling spouse to our marital bed and teaching her the duties of an obedient wife?
All around, women rose to their feet, their cheers growing louder and louder. “Wo-men’s-rights! Wo-men’s-rights!”
Among the crowd, I found my wife, who was cheering along while wearing a somewhat strained smile.
“Wo-men’s-rights! Wo-men’s-rights!”
Your right to beg for forgiveness if you dare to set up your husband, you mean? Your right to be taught your place—i.e., beneath me, preferably in our marital bed? Yes, cheer me on! Cheer me on!
This reminded me of the time my employees had applauded my “financial restructuring of operational expenses” that was, in fact, their pay cut. Ah, the good old days…
“The laws regarding women in this society must be changed!” I thundered, pounding the lectern with my fist. I was really getting a feeling for this. It was almost…what was the word? Ah, yes. Fun. “And I know exactly what changes I would like to implement.”
Hm…how about matrimonial bondage? Spousal servitude? There are so many pleasant possibilities to contemplate.My gaze bored into my wife, who seemed to be blushing for some mysterious reason.So many possibilities…and such intriguing mental images they conjure up.
“We must stand firm! We must unite to fight for what is right, and ensure that women across the country receive what is due to them!”
Hm…do I still have that riding crop somewhere?
At the very least, I had to have that rope still lying around. After all, sometimes, competitors were simply too annoying to not invite them for a little chat.
Again, cheers exploded from everywhere, interrupting my important deliberations. I gave the crowd a nod, signalling my appreciation of their fervour for feminism. Or acknowledging my new minions, depending on how you looked at it.
It was then that anifritraised her hand and interrupted my moment.
“Excuse me, Mr Ambrose, could you elaborate a bit on that? What exactly is it that’s due to women? What do they deserve?”
You sneaky little…
I felt my little finger twitch.
She gave me the sweetest, most innocent smile I had ever seen on her. Oh yes, I was going to need that rope. And that riding crop.
My little finger twitched again.
Calm. Calm. She asked you a question, remember? You must reply.
Unless, of course, I wanted to dispense with this charade and call my subordinates to dunk all those over-excited ladies in the nearest lake to cool off. That was always an option, right?
Not if you want to avoid the wrath of a few hundred feminists, with your wife leading the charge.
Tarnation!
There was no way around it, was there?
On principle, I was firmly against such extraneous things as facial expressions. But if I weren’t, in that very moment, the expression on my face would have been very…interesting.
