Chapter 13: Clear Sailing Ahead!

    The sky was clear, the air warm, and activity going on board the buoy tender Ida Lewis.  For a June morning in the Spontoon Islands, it was a perfect day for a wedding.  And a double wedding was about to commence on the boat!

    At the forecastle, a dais had been constructed to accommodate the minister performing the ceremony as well as a podium from which he would direct the proceedings.  All around the ship had been strung colorful streamers, Chinese lanterns, and banners proclaiming good luck to the newlyweds.

    By the starboard railing, Captain Silas Stanbridge stood with his party.  The mallard detective, Jacob Breckenridge, had agreed to be best man, while a trio of the ship’s officers gladly accepted the positions as groomsfurs.  To the portside of the forecastle, the young rabbit engineer, Geoffrey Boswell, stood with his party, including Ben Fraiser and Karl Mueller.  And at the podium, the base chaplain, a fox squirrel bearing the rank of commander in the Spontoon Militia.  There had been some debate as to who would be performing the ceremony and of what denomination.  Silas said he was Presbyterian, while his intended, Beverly Plumb, announced she was Methodist.  Jennifer Monroe, Pilot Officer assigned to the Ida Lewis, had no preferences, as she didn’t attend church.  But Geoffrey Boswell was Anglican from birth, and said that he was not picky about other furs' beliefs.
   
   The rest of the deck, as well as the flying bridges, were filled with the crew and their families.  On the docks and piers were crowds of militia personnel and their families gathered to watch the ceremony.  And out on the waters around the tender were the curious and news-types in rented water taxis and personal craft.
 
   The sight of his furs in their best uniforms, the ship cleaned and polished and festooned with the symbols of this important day, made Silas’ mind roll back to that time two weeks before, of what he could remember and of what he’d been told.

    After having been found in that tourist resort on South Island, Silas Stanbridge was quickly transported to Moon Island and the naval hospital there.  On his arrival a distraught Beverly Plumb was waiting with Marge Clements, the wife of his First Officer.  The two humans had but the briefest of reunions as the medical staff transferred the patient from stretcher to gurney and wheeled him down to the surgical theater.  Tears of joy splashed across the man’s face as his fiancé tried to smother him in kisses while trotting along with the party.  Beverly pulled up short as the gurney crashed through the doors and barred her entrance thereafter.  For a long moment she stood before the swinging doors as the muffled shouts and orders came through to her ears, filling her trembling figure with worries, delights, anxieties, and a touch of anger for Silas letting himself get hurt.

    Large brown hands softly took her shoulders.  “Come on, dear,” said Marge softly, “let’s see if we can get a cup of coffee or something around here, okay?”

    The woman turned to regard the dark simian face beaming up at her.  Emotions warred with one another across the round human face until a smile slowly won out.

    “Okay,” was all she could get out as the chimpanzee femme guide them back down the hallway.

    It was two hours later that the surgeon came out with the good news.

    “Everything went well,” stated the baboon as he settled into a chair across from the women.  “The bullet passed clean through the flesh and muscles, missing any vital arteries and bones.  And what was really amazing was the herbal poultice that had been packed into the wound.”

    “Poultice?” echoed Beverly.

    The doctor nodded.  “It appears to be some Chinese compound specifically made for such an injury.  It helped to stop the blood loss and prevent any infection from getting a toehold.”  The baboon shook his gray-brown head slowly.  “Someone was really looking after the Captain on this one.  They seemed to have cared about him.”

    Beverly sat numbed by this pronouncement.  Who would do such a thing, and why?  She doubted there would be an answer coming soon so she pushed it to the back of her mind and thanked the simian.  He simply smiled and left.

    Marge’s thick brows furrowed.  “Now why would anyone want to treat the Captain in such a manner?”

    Then it came to the woman.  She sat up and stared into those large brown eyes.

    “Celine Monvel.”

    Marge looked doubtful.  “The Asian actress?”

    Beverly nodded, then launched into what Silas had told her about his dinner date with the Burmese the other night.  When she had finished she waited for the simian’s response.  Marge sat silent for a long time as what she had heard sunk in.  Then she shook herself and settled her gaze on the expectant woman, and smiled.

    “Consider yourself lucky, Beverly, to have Silas for yourself.  I think Miss Monvel is one of those furs who would think of a human male as a special treat to have.  She may have believed that it would improve her status as an actress.”

    Beverly sat and thought about what was said.  She then smiled.

    “Yes, he is someone special.  And I’m glad that he asked me to marry him.”

    The next day she found the captain sitting in a chair by the window, his left arm in a sling.  He was dressed in a bathrobe, reading a newspaper by the window.  Silas turned and smiled at her.

    “Hello, dear,” he said, turning in his seat to face her.

    “Hello, yourself,” the woman answered as she pulled up another chair to sit by him.

    They leaned together and kissed.  For a long time afterwards they just sat and stared at each other, drinking in the other’s face, hair, body.
 
    “How are you feeling?” Beverly finally asked to break the silence.

    “Doing fine, considering I was shot.”  He made a vague motion with his left arm then held up the paper.  “Have you read the news?  Seems there was some disturbance at a small shipping company down on Casino Island last night.  People reported hearing gunfire, and the owner told the police that the garage doors had been broken down but nothing was taken.  Said there was a lot of cartridge brass lying around.”  Silas chuckled.  “And next to it is a police report of a big fight down at the Tum-Tum Club.  It says that shots were fired and the door-ape died from a gunshot outside the place.”  He shook his head, laying the paper in his lap.

    “Are you sure you’re okay, dear?”

    The man frowned.  “I said I was fine.”
 
    “Good,” she replied, then slapped him.

    The look of shock on his face, along with the reddening cheek, gave Beverly the ammunition she needed.

    “That was for the slap you gave me last night, you sonovabitch!  Do you think you can get away with knocking me around like that?”
 
   Silas merely shook his head.
 
   “Good, because if I’m going to marry you, then we better set down some rules first.  If you ever hit me again then I’m gone from your life and these islands.  Understood?”

   The man nodded, his hand dropping back into his lap.

   “Good,” Beverly repeated, “because I’ll be no man’s punching bag.  I’ve treated too many femmes who were beaten up by boyfriends or husbands.  Next, I don’t expect to be lorded over like some chattel.  We may be the last human couple around and I want us to be around a long time from now, which means there will be an equal footing with this relationship.”

   After a long moment Silas asked quietly, “Any thing else?”

   “Nope,” the woman answered sweetly.

   With a nod Silas remained quiet for awhile, then turned his attention out the window.

   “Have you seen Jenny yet?”

   “I need to.”

   Again Silas nodded.  “She’s just down the hall a coupl'a rooms from here.  I heard she’s pretty much fallen in on herself, not wanting to see anyone, not even Geoffrey.” He cocked an eyebrow at her.  “Think you can pull her out of the hole?”

   The blond woman shrugged.  “I can give it the old college try, if that’s what you’re asking.”

   Silas smiled.  “Tell her it’s a double wedding or nothing.  Its what you wanted, isn’t it?”

   Taken back by this, Beverly could only nod in return.  Giving her hand a squeeze the man next pulled her into a tight embrace.  They held it for a minute before separating, murmured something about seeing each other tomorrow before Beverly left.

   The next day found the woman standing before the door to Jenny Monroe’s room, knocking softly.  She held a large box bound together by string.  At the knock a soft inquiry came from within.
 
   Jennifer Monroe lay propped against her pillows, staring gloomily out the window.  She brightened a little when she recognized her visitor.  Beverly was taken back by the swollen eye and lip.  But what made her eyes widen was the stocking cap pulled tight down over the lepine’s head.

   “That must have been some fight you got into, Jenny,” said the woman trying to make light of her friend’s condition.
 
   Jenny made a vague motion of her hands.  “Not as bad as the other guy,” she mumbled.

   An awkward silence followed as Beverly drew a chair up to the bed, setting the box by her friend.
“A little something I got for you, considering it’ll be a double wedding.”

   Jenny blinked, then stared at the other.

   “What makes you think there’ll be a double wedding?”

   The woman frowned.  “Do you think I’m going to be the only one walking down that aisle?  You and Geoffrey have been together, what, two years?  And Silas and I just met a few days ago?  What better time to tie the knot than with a friend, okay?”

   The rabbit femme turned her head away, her swollen lip trembling a little.  “What makes you think Geoffrey will marry me now?” She looked back at the blonde woman.  “Look at me!  Do you really believe he would want to see me like this, let alone being seen with me?”

   Anger had bubbled up in the lepine’s words as the tears welled up and splashed over her cheeks.  But Beverly was unmoved by the other’s display.  Calmly she placed the box into Jenny’s lap.
“This might help,” was all she said.

   An awkward moment arose again as the two looked at each other.  Presently the rabbit femme began to untie the string and lifted the lid off.  She looked in, blinked a couple of times, then burst into tears.  Beverly leaned forward to take her friend into her arms.  They rocked softly as Jenny bawled like a baby until her energy was spent.  After several minutes of silence they separated before Beverly reached into the box and pulled out the object.  It was a wig of honey blonde curls.

   “Let’s see how well you look in it, shall we?”

   The lepine was hesitant in touching it until the human reached up to ease the stocking off her head.  Short hair covered Jenny’s head.  Immediately her hands shot up to cover it.  Once more Beverly reached up to remove those hands.  Then taking the rabbit woman’s face between her hands, the human woman pulled that head forward until she could plant a soft kiss between the ears.  That brought another burst of crying.

   “You think I haven’t seen a shaved head before?  I’ve seen quite a few as a nurse; even had to shave a couple for Dr. Singh to do any surgery on.  So don’t think you’re unique.  And it won’t take long for the hair to grow back.”

   Without another word Beverly Plumb picked up the wig and began threading the long rabbit ears through the holes in it until it finally was fitted onto the rabbit’s head.  With some last minute adjustments she sat back, pretty pleased with the results.  Finding a hand mirror on a table the woman brought it back and held it up for the other to see.

   At first Jenny wouldn’t look, keeping her head averted.  Eventually she spared a peek.  She blinked, before turning her attention fully on the mirror.  Next the femme turned her head one way, then the other, all the while keeping her eyes on the reflection. For a full minute Jenny Monroe simply stared at herself as a slow smile formed on her swollen lip.  She looked up at Beverly.
“Thank you,” she said softly as the lepine returned her attention to the mirror.
 
   There came a soft knock on the door, with Geoffrey Boswell entering the room.  He stopped when he saw Jenny sporting the wig.  A low whistle came from his lips.

   “Baby, you look fabulous.”

   That brought another round of crying as Jenny held out her arms to him.  Knowing when it was time to leave, Beverly picked up the box and lid before retiring from the room.  Her last look of the rabbit couple was of Geoffrey sitting on the edge of the bed, Jenny in his arms, and both locked into a deep kiss.

   As she approached Silas’ room the door opened and the mallard detective, Jake Breckenridge, stepped out.  When he saw Beverly Jake smiled and tipped his hat.

   “Good day to you, Miss Plumb.  Are you going in?”

   She nodded her assent, allowing the drake to hold the door open for her.  Inside Beverly found Silas at the window.  The sash was open, allowing the man to smoke his pipe.  The woman pulled up a chair across from him, setting the box aside so she could fit a small cigar to a black holder.

   “What did Mr. Breckenridge want?” she asked through a cloud of blue-gray smoke.

   “He needed me to help clear up some questions about my kidnapping.”

   “Oh, really?”

   Silas nodded, blowing smoke at the window.  “The police were curious as to why Miss Monvel would take my wooden foot but leave her cigarette holder.”

   Beverly knocked ash into an ashtray.  “And?”

   He shrugged.  “It was an exchange of gifts, nothing more.”  He didn’t add that the holder and its case of teakwood, along with two hundred dollars, were given to the co-owner of the most notorious dive on Casino Island.  Silas felt that Nola Stevens deserved these gifts in view of what had crashed through the club’s doors the other night.

   “And that was all Miss Monvel took from you?”

   Feeling color warming his bearded cheeks, the man looked out the window before answering.
“No.  It seems that while I was under the effects of some drug given to me after I was shot, Miss Monvel had her way with me.”

   Brown eyes flashed, as Beverly was about to take the bit of her holder between her lips.


   “Her way with you?”

   Silas could only nod, not wanting to look his fiancé in the eye.  In a soft voice he continued.  “When the doctor was examining me before working on my bullet wound, he told me in a quiet voice that I seemed to have had an, ah, ejaculation.”

   Beverly blinked while taking a draw of her smoke.  She should have been outraged at this violation of her man’s body.  But somewhere in the back of her mind was a quiet smirk over this bit of news; the worthy prize of any femme wanting such a unique encounter.  The woman blew smoke rings before speaking again.

   “If it was good enough for our Miss Monvel then it must certainly be good enough for me, don’t you think?”

   Silas looked up, startled.  His fiancé had a quiet smile on her face as she took another draw of her little cigar.  He could only shake his head as he reached a hand out to her.  Beverly took it.  It was several minutes later that Geoffrey Boswell and Jennifer Monroe entered the room to announce that they would be delighted in having a double wedding with the humans.

   Two days later Silas and Jenny were discharged from the hospital, the man sporting a new artificial foot, and what followed would be best described as a whirlwind of activities.  Marge Clements took on the task of arranging the wedding of the century.  Her husband, in temporary command of the ship, saw to it that the vessel was completely cleaned and repainted as it had been decided upon to hold the wedding there.

   As word spread throughout the base over the upcoming nuptials, it seemed like every officer and rating wanted to lend a paw in the proceedings.  Even Admiral Hawthorne Sebastian was near to busting with pride when Silas had asked if he would be kind enough to give Beverly away.
“Seeing as I have already handed over three daughters before, I should say that I have enough experience under the belt,” had been his reply to the request.

   Rabbit and human femmes had decided to keep the dresses simple; no elaborate trains or veils, with Beverly wearing a cloche and short veil while Jenny settled on a glengarry.  Jake Breckenridge had approached the two with a request from his secretaries asking if they could be bridesmaids for the lepine.  The Pilot Officer consented.

   Bachelor and bachelorette parties had been hastily thrown together for those involved.  Marge had both Beverly and Jenny at the Clements’ residence with a full complement of the wives from the buoy tender crew.  As for Silas and Geoffrey, each suffered through separate gatherings awash with liquor and ribaldries to the wee hours of the morning.  It took both the better part of the day to sober up for the wedding rehearsal that evening.
  
   The rehearsal was held at the officer’s club the night before the wedding.  Afterwards they all settled down to a meal put together by Eustis McCracken, the chief cook of the Ida Lewis.  In Beverly’s mind was the thought that this dinner was far superior to what she had been served on the buoy tender days ago.  And what was given then had been one of the best meals she had enjoyed since leaving home so many years ago.  Toasts had been made as everyone took their turns at recalling some anecdote about either a bride or groom, though the captain and his Pilot Officer bore the brunt of such antics.  Afterwards, there had been the giving of small gifts to the members of the wedding party.  When Jenny and Beverly began to exchange their gifts to each other, they paused when noticing the similarity of the size of the package as well as the wrapping.  Hurriedly they torn them open before giving little shrieks of laughter.  Each had given the other a handcrafted ivory cigarette holder!  The two holders had been part of a set offered by the tobacconist who sells the little cigars the two women enjoy.  Then Silas gave each a silver cigarette case with a built-in lighter and their initials engraved into them.

   Afterwards, when everyone was heading homeward – Beverly was staying at the Clements – Silas took his bride-to-be aside and suggested that they should elope instead.

   “What, and have Marge hot after our hides?” retorted the woman.

   Silas smiled.  “Just a passing thought,” he said as he took her into his arms for a goodnight kiss.

   The sound of a piano striking up the wedding march snapped Silas Stanbridge back to the present.  The crew had managed, without incident, to remove his piano from the wardroom and lowered it to the deck for the ceremony.  The first figure down the aisle was little Brigit Clements acting at the flower girl.  She casually scattered the flower petals along the carpet laid out for the wedding party following.  Her brother, Peter, not looking pleased in his suit, followed bearing the silken pillow to which the wedding bands had been pinned.
 
   The first bridal pair was Beverly and Admiral Sebastian.  The captain noted that her blonde hair had been marcelled again as the night of their dinner.  And the admiral looked outstanding in his dress whites with practically every square inch of material covered by an award or medal.  Behind came Jennifer Monroe and Orin Clements.  The swelling on the lepine’s face was gone, letting her look beautiful again under the curls of her wig.  And pinned to Orin’s uniform was the silver Life Saving medal he received when Silas Stanbridge got his gold one.

   When all were gathered before the chaplain, the squirrel smiled to all before calling out in a clear voice the beginnings of the wedding.  At the time of exchanging rings Silas had to take it slow and easy as his left arm was still paining him from the gunshot.

   But when the end of the ceremony came and the couples sealed their vows with a kiss, the crowd erupted with cheering, and from further inland came the rattle of gunfire from the antiaircraft positions.

   As Silas turned to lead Beverly back down the aisle, he pulled up when he noticed three figures in maroon and green stepping aboard the ship.
 
   “Ships company, aten-SHUN!”

   Vice Admiral Anthony Wallace, chairfur of the Rain Island Naval Syndicate council, followed by his adjutant and another officer, made his way down the carpet to meet Silas and Beverly where salutes were exchanged with him and the other officers present.

   “Congratulations, Captain, on your nuptials,” said the black bear, pumping the man’s hand.  He turned to take Beverly’s hand.  “And to you, Mrs. Stanbridge, for such a special catch.  But I must interrupt this ceremony for something of equal importance.”

   So saying the Syndic party proceeded to the dais.  The chaplain gladly stepped aside as the trio turned to face the ship.  Admiral Wallace turned to the gray wolf commander and nodded.  This furson stepped forward after receiving some papers from the raven sporting lieutenant’s tabs on his epaulets.

   “Captain Silas Stanbridge, front and center!” called out the wolf.

   Looking a little confused the man left his new bride and approached the party.

   “Captain Silas T. Stanbridge reporting as ordered, sir,” he said while snapping a salute.
 
   The wolf commander read from the paperwork.  “Captain Silas Thomas Stanbridge, service number 7272097, commanding officer of the Spontoon Island Navigational Aid Service buoy tender Ida Lewis has completed ten years of service with said service.  And showing great endeavors in solving the destruction of Spontoon Islands’ aids to navigation, risking his own life in the rescue of a member of his crew, and in uncovering the perpetrators in the destruction of said aids to navigation, has hereby been promoted to the rank of Commodore, by unanimous decision of the Syndic council.  This promotion is to be effective this day, the 14th of June, 1938.”

   The bear quietly ordered the man to turn around and face his crew.  He looked beyond the stunned human and smiled.  “Mrs. Stanbridge, would you please join me in this?”

   Looking as puzzled as her husband, Beverly took her place with the pair.  With a few quick words from the admiral the woman reached up and began to remove the rank board from the left shoulder of her husband’s uniform.  The wolf took both boards before passing two others to them.  Handing one to the woman the bruin admiral showed her how it was fitted to the catches on the uniform.  Beverly stared briefly at the board; instead of four broad gold stripes it now bore a single broad stripe with a loop pointing towards the image of a gold spontoon head between two silver wreathes.
 
   After the boards were fitted the admiral shook the man’s hand.  “Congratulations, Commodore Stanbridge.  You will be given your orders later, after the reception, if it’s alright for our attending.”
Silas readily agreed.  Then the bruin shook his wife’s hand over the new promotion.  Instantly the boat’s crew exploded into applause and a rousing chorus of “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow”.  The hooting and hollering from the crowd on the docks followed this.  It lasted for about two minutes before a shout of  “At Ease!” from the gray wolf settled the company down.

   Then the admiral indicated for the Stanbridges to step aside, as the proceedings were not over.
 
    “Lieutenant Commander Orin Clements, front and center,” called out the wolf.

    Startled at being singled out the chimpanzee took his place before the bear.

    “Lieutenant Commander Orin C. Clements reporting as ordered, sir,” said the simian as he saluted.

   “Lieutenant Commander Orin Charles Clements, service number 7302305, First Officer of the Spontoon Island Navigational Aid Service buoy tender Ida Lewis has completed ten years of service with said service.  And aiding in solving the destruction of Spontoon Islands’ aids to navigation, and organizing the rescue of his commanding officer, has hereby been promoted to the rank of Commander, by unanimous decision of the Syndic council.  This promotion is to be effective this day, the 14th of June, 1938.”

   Another round of applause erupted after Marge Clements repeated the procedure performed by Beverly Stanbridge.  There came the striking of chords from the piano signaling the time for husbands and wives to descend the aisle.  Jenny and Geoffrey Boswell led the party with Silas and Beverly coming right behind.  Shouts, applause’s, and cries of well wishes rose from the ship and crowd as the wedding party proceeded down the gangway to waiting cars ready to carry them away to the reception.

   The crowd parted like the ocean waves before the prows of ships.  The people waved and threw rice at the vehicles as they headed up the thoroughfare to the officer’s club and the reception awaiting them.  Beverly turned to her husband while ducking the grain shower.

   “Silas, dear, I do have one terrible thought about this marriage.”

   The words struck the man like a bolt out of the blue.

   “And what’s that, love?”

   Ducking her head sheepishly Beverly spoke her thoughts.  “At our age, having any children would be nigh impossible.  And I’ve always wanted children.”

   After a moment’s hesitation Silas replied, “Oh, I don’t think we’ll have to worry about that.”

   Confusion clouded his wife’s lovely face as she looked up at him.  “Silas, how can you say that when I want this more than our being together?”
 
   A smile flashed through those bearded lips.  “Because if it worked for Abraham and Sarah it should work for us!”

   She blinked twice as those words sunk in.  Then laughter erupted from painted lips as the wedding party wound its way through the naval base to the reception, and the beginning of a new life for two pairs of newly weds.

next (Epilogue)