Spontoon Island
home
- contact - credits
- new - links -
history
- maps - art -
story
comic
strips - editorial - souvenirs - Yahoo forum
29 June
2009
| "The I Do's of
March"
by M. Mitchell Marmel & E.O. Costello © 2007-9 by M. Mitchell Marmel and E.O. Costello Willow Fawnsworthy, Reggie Buckhorn, Franklin Stagg, Orrin Brush, Leslie duCleds, Kara Karoksdottir, Charles Foster Crane, Inocenta du Cleds (nee de Ciervos), Carlos de Ciervos, Senora de Ciervos © Eric Costello Rosie Baumgartner, © M. Mitchell Marmel Marryin’ Sam and Lulubelle Mae Brunswick © E.O Costello and M. Mitchell Marmel Brenda and Covina Johnson © Walter D. Reimer Part Two
Willow/Grace: I think the main problem with my/our life/lives is that things just come a bit too quickly to digest. I mean, first it was the Revolt, and things have been moving almost too fast ever since. But after we both accepted Reggie's proposal, things have slowed down somewhat, in a sort of pleasant pink fog that was both comfortable and still downright scary. (I have to agree.) Hush, you. This is my internal narrative. Get your own. (...) About a week after that memorable Valentine's Day I was heading up to Luchow's on Meeting Island. Rosie had brought Da back from Tillamook, and assured me that he was doing a great deal better. That cheered us all up a lot, I can tell you, especially Rosie. When I got her phone call the day after they got back, I feared the worst but when she said "we" instead of "I" - well, it was the best news I could have had that day. Hard on the hooves of that news came the reason I was now on a water taxi headed from Casino to Meeting. Rosie had leased Luchow's, the only true restaurant on the island and vacant since its original owner had retired. No one seemed to know where the old boar went, but rumor had it he went back to Germany. Rosie, however, assured me that Luchow had had a heart attack, and was living in retirement on South Island, where it developed that there was a small expatriate German community. Good for him. I have no idea why anyone would want to go back there to live, with that Bohemian Corporal (as Baron von Kojote calls him – at least when the Baronin is minding his language) running things. The boat approached the dock and tied up, and after tipping the driver (tourist season hasn’t started yet, and I try to tip generously) I headed up the street. ***
Rosie: It was about a week into the Great Luchow’s Archeological Dig that I realized I might be ever so slightly in over my head. Being a showgirl on the Burley-Q circuit forced me to travel light, usually a trunk full of costumes and a small suitcase with toiletries in it. I never really figured on a place of my own, though I did figure I'd be settling down at some point. I was still getting gobsmacked over all the dreck Luchow had managed to squirrel away. Even if he was a boar. The kitchen equipment: Old but serviceable, most of it. The back storeroom...Oy. I finally managed to get most of that out to the curb for the rag and bone furs. This left the upstairs room. I was planning on making this my own little apartment (Living over the shop. Papa would be proud of his little Roseleh). Oy, redoubled in spades. Everything to cases of canned fruit, now bulging at the seams and some leaking, to parts from not one, not two, but at least FIVE different beds (that I could see). Not to mention tons of heavier trash, including a few large crates which looked full of porcelain. Frankly, I was kinda scared to look through them. Lord knows what was lurking inside. "Hello?" My heart lifted a bit, and I stepped out onto the small balcony (this, thank God, didn't need fixing, just a little cleaning and some paint on the iron railing) to see my favorite Mildly Meshugginah Doe waving cheerfully from the street. "Need a helping paw?" Willow's cheerfulness was catching. "Yeah," I grinned back. "Call LaGoatia and tell 'im I need a fleet of Gnu York garbage barges." "Heh," Willow mock-saluted me. "That bad, huh?" "Yeah," I nodded, grinning ruefully. "Gonna need a small army to clean out Fibber McLuchow's restaurant, here..." My pretty doe friend put a pretty finger to her pretty chin. "H'm. Some of the girls from the Lotus, mebbe?" "Yeah, I was thinking that," I said. "Say, could you-?" "Probably, but I'm happily engaged, remember?" Willow winked. I stuck my tongue out at her. "You're still young enough to spank, young lady." Willow sighed theatrically. "Promises, promises." She grinned. "So, I take it you'd like me to round up some help?" I nodded. "Lessee...you don't know many of the Lotus regulars...their loss..." A smirk from Willow. "Ask for Brenda or Covina. They're running things since me and Toni left." I grinned. "And if they give you grief, tell 'em they still owe me a favor from that night." "Oh?" Willow could outsly a fox when she wanted to. "Do I want to know?" "Never you mind, young lady," I said primly. I glanced about. Nobody within earshot. I leaned over a bit and stage-whispered, "I don't want to shock Grace!" A snort from my doe chum. "You'd be surprised, Rosie." With a cheerful wave, the best pair of friends in one cute doe body a cheetah ever had trotted off down the street. I sighed and went back to work. I'd pitch most of this stuff out the window, but it'd be a shame to crack the tiles on the patio... next |