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26 August 2007

Valentines Dazed
by E.O. Costello, M. Mitchell Marmel, & Walter D. Reimer
January & February 1937, from some different points of view.

Chapter 1


"Valentines Dazed"
by E.O. Costello,  M. Mitchell Marmel, & Walter D. Reimer

Reggie Buckhorn, Lodge, Carlos de Ciervos, Consuela de Ciervos, Inocenta de Ciervos, Baron Heinrich von Kojote, Baronin Sofia von Kojote, Bernie Phlute, Grace Stagg
© E.O.Costello
Les duCleds, Rosie Baumgartner, Willow Fawnsworthy, Toni de Pantera
© M. Mitchell Marmel
Toby Trotter © Simon Leo Barber

  Chapter 1

    I, Carlos de Ciervos y Comamenta, am in making with the wholehearted agree with that fur of wisdom who say that the parent, they no want the justice, they are merely wanting the quiet.

    Ah, but there is the rub in this matter, in that the Casa Ciervos has been much of the quiet now, and Carlos de Ciervos is thinking, pouf!, that there is being entirely too much of the quiet.  I am knowing, where there is quiet in Casa Ciervos, there is the plotting.  If no by my mate Consuela, then by my daughter Inocenta.  So!

    It is quite in the possibility that I, Carlos de Ciervos, am of the mistake, that that this is of a one with Inocenta spending the hours of the wakey-wakey sitting by the sickbed of that... that... that... pouf!  I am finding the word of justice, it stick in the throat.  I can only pray that Senor Buckhorn, he is correct when he claim this... this... gah-pouf!... that this one who have the heart of my precious little Inocenta has the honor within him.

    Houmph!  I know from making the conversation with the valet of Senor Buckhorn, who have as his affair the knowing of the everything, that Inocenta's... erah, fancy man, was from the hospital to be released this morning.  Hmmmmmm. Why Inocenta no come home for the luncheon, or for the tea?  Where is she, my jewel-like daughter? And where is it, this... fancy-man-pouf!?  I, Carlos de Ciervos, am being kept in the darkness, and it no good.  Again, I am asking: where is...

*****

    "Inocenta..."

    I traced a finger up a darling little waist.

    "Isabella..."

    The finger moved across to an adorable little navel.

    "Maria..."

    A soft giggle as the finger detoured in a ticklish area of the ribcage.

    "de Ciervos..."

    Up to the lovely collarbone, detouring around an area already well-explored.

    "y Comamenta."

    The finger moved up to a delectable chin, where it (my finger) was kissed.  There was nothing for it but to plant a nice, lingering smooch on the rosebud cervine lips, which stifled a giggle.

    "Will you marry me?"

    My darling doe suddenly stiffened, and rolled a bit away from me on the bed, giving me the eye.  I blinked.

    "Was it something I said, Inocenta?"

    I got an odd look in reply.  "It... it is very much of the depending.  If it so, that you the Leslie-puppy feel the obligation moral to make the marriage with Inocenta because you ravish Inocenta, Inocenta slap you face and scream "No! No! No! No!"

    I could feel the heat in my cheeks as I blushed, and Inocenta smirked, seeing the proof of my (partial) guilt. She continued.

    "And after Inocenta slap you, she take you by the tail, and make the throw out of the door.  Voot-whoosh! And out is the Leslie puppy.  Inocenta then make the throwing out of the clothes into the street. If she is generous feeling.  And maybe a makewater pot, too.  So there!"

    I could tell there was no real anger behind the words, so I smiled mischievously.  "All right, go on..."

    Inocenta lowered her voice.   I didn't know deer could purr.

    "Now, then.  If this question you give to Inocenta, is because on the other paw that you love your Inocenta, and you no like the idea of being in the bed lying at night without the touch of deerie flag on your cute little tushie, or maybe it is being the feeling in the blood that go fizzie when you catch Inocenta's scent on your fur in the morning, if this is why you make the question to Inocenta, then si, let us now make the arrangement that we agree to make the engagement to the engagement, si?  Pouf!  Details, we make Papi figure out later.  That is what the sires, they are there for. Is more important that Inocenta and her one and the only Leslie-puppy have the understanding, no?"

    I put out my paw to seal the deal.  Inocenta is obviously not familiar with our customs, and chose to seal the deal in another way.  Not, frankly, that I had any objections.  I quickly adopted her method.

*****

    Toss.
    Catch.
    Chomp.
    Swallow.
    Thirty-one.

    Toss.
    Catch.
    Chomp.
    Swallow.
    Thirty-two.

    "Señor Buckhorn?"

    "Ah!  Señor de Ciervos!  What can I do for you this fine day?"

    "Do you mind, Senor Buckhorn, if I make the question ask to you?"

    "Not at all!  Fire away!"

    Toss.
    Catch.
    Chomp.
    Swallow.
    Thirty-three.

    Toss.
    Catch.

    "Señor Buckhorn, what is it, how you say in English, a 'nooner'?"

    This rather startling request for the old G-2 caught Yr. Humble Servant at an unfortunate moment, as the salted acorn was at the crossroads between gullet and windpipe.  As anyone familiar with the layout of a cervine skull knows, there's quite a distance between the back of the c. throat and the front of the c. phiz.  The aforementioned salted acorn was thus projected some distance across the barroom, landing in a neatly polished (and, thankfully, neatly cleaned) cuspidor.  One of the other habitués promptly bet me a guinea I couldn't do that again, but I gave scant notice, as I turned to the elder de Ciervos with the look bewildered.

    "Beg pardon?  A *what*?!"

    The father looked apologetic as he thumped my back.  "You are the better now?  Bueno.  Please, my apologies, Senor Buckhorn.  Just this past hour, on the telefono device I was with.  It was with the former hotel of residence, making the arrangements for the bill, you see.  There was the item on the bill, a room for my little flan--"

    "Flan?"  I asked.

    "A sweet little dessert.  Sometimes I call my Inocenta 'my little flan'."

    "Anything like a cupcake?" I asked tentatively.

    Señor de Ciervos nodded enthusiastically.  "Si, si!"

    I returned the nod, no wiser but possibly better informed.  "Do go on."

    "Si.  As I was relating, there was the charge for this room, for the one night of staying.  I no order this, so I, Carlos de Ciervos, ask the clerk for why this was done.  He give to me the rude answer with the laughter, and make the suggestion that 'maybe she wanted to have a 'nooner.'  There was the insulting insinuation, so I slam down the telefono, and I make to come here."

    "Errrr.  I see."  This was a somewhat mixed budget of news. Remarkably, I did in fact see.  Association with La Fawnsworthy has, as has been noted elsewhere for the record, sharpened the Buckhorn synapses tenfold.  Even if that's starting from a rather small base.  Still, there was a great deal of unease that was felt in the area of the guts that I was being looked upon as some species of Delphic oracle.  Mark you, I vaguely recall from my Latin classes...or was it Greek?...that the Oracle at Delphi was usually whacked on some sort of fumes while spinning out some gibberish yarn. I could relate in a manner that no classics professor could possibly understand.

    Senor de Ciervos was persistent in his enquiry.  "Please, what is it, this 'nooner'?"

    This was a dashed awkward question.  On the one paw, this involved what could delicately be called the social life of his daughter, a doe of rather alarming pulchritude and an equally alarming desire to use it to the full extent God had granted it to her. The memory of the night I met her ( by accidentally breaking into her bedroom) is seared into the brain.  Right next to the memory that her father was known for having a fiery temper and a great deal of skill with the instruments of honor, like pistols and swords.  This was a kind of question far removed from the radio quiz programs. The light and delicate path of half-truth was called for.

    "Well, a 'nooner' is something you do in bed in the middle of the day."   Mark you, I was not speaking from experience in this matter. Least of all with the doe in question.

    "Ah!"  The phiz of the elder de C. lit up like the Buckhorn's Salted Acorns sign in Times Square.  "But that makes the excellent sense. That little...er-houmph, I beg your pardon, the honorable Senor duCleds was leaving the hospital yesterday, as I have informed been.  My little flan no leave him while he is in hospital, and there is no doubting she would be wishing to be near.  So!  Since she would, naturally, not be staying in his room..."

    There was enough of the old denial in that statement to float Cleopatra's barge, but I decided keeping the peace was the sound and statesbuck-like policy.  I was not going to share my assumption that Inocenta's definition of "near" differed sharply from her sire's.

    "So!"  This said with blind triumph.  "Inocenta, she stay in the room separate for the having of the siesta. This makes the explanation why it is, that she make the return to Casa Ciervos looking very much the refreshed and cheerful doe!"

    Surely, Sr. de Ciervos, being the buck of the world he was, would know that there is more than one way to make a doe cheerful, but I felt it was tactful and wise to merely nod and smile. Clearly, a conference with Lodge was in order, as there were certain elements in this narrative that flashed warning signals.

*****

    It was in the waving of the friendly arms from the table nearby in the cafe that I saw my friend of old, the Baron von Kojote.

    He address myself.  "Lieber Carlos!  What is it that brings you out and about on this fine morning?"

    I, Carlos, address with the sigh disconsolate.  "Alas, comrade of old, it is necessary for to going for the former hotel of residence, there to settle the matter of the bills."  To this, I had the sour frown.  "It is additionally necessary to find and have a conversation with the...ahem, Senor duCleds."

    The eyes of my comrade, they light up and gleam.  "Ach! Permit me to offer my services as your second!  I admire the government of these islands, they have the advanced thinking to allow affairs of honor to be settled like MEN!"  The flat of the paw hit the table, make the glasses go rattlie.

    From I, Carlos, the sigh enormous.  "Your gracious offer is noted, friend of old.  Much as it may be in the desiring, I am thinking that it is not judicious to be making with the guns or swords or such at this point."  More sour frown.  "Senora de Ciervos has absconded with the key to my gun case, besides.  I am suspecting that there is the plotting with Inocenta."

    The nod solemn from Heinrich, who do not hide the disappointment that there is no pistols for two, coffee for one at dawn in the offing.  "Ja, ja, ja.  Ach, it could be worse, mein lieber Carlos.  Supposing that they draw the Baronin into the plotting, nicht wahr?"

    The shudder from myself.  Indeed, a thought blood-chilling to shake the antlers.

*****

    So it is that I, Carlos, find myself at the hotel.  So.  Pouf! I make with the bell-ring, so.  "Ahem! Senor!"

    To me, the desk clerk turn with the smirk.

    "Eeeyesssssssssssss?"

    This is of the informality greatly gross, but I, Carlos, choose to overlook this at this point in time, and choose instead to assert the manner dignified.

    "I have come, Senor, about my bill."

    The desk-clerk, he turn from the smirk on his badger face to the sneer.

    "Oooooh, that's strange.  It looks like you've got a nose, instead."

    The blood of generations of de Ciervoses boil.  "Now cut that out!"

    The sneer go back to sigh.  "Oooooh, all right.  Name?"

    "Don Carlos Jaime Miguel Juan Enrico de Ciervos y Comamenta," I say with the great pride, for that is my name.

    "OooooooooHHHHHH!  Nooner-Boy!"

    "Que?!  Que?! No-no-no-no.  In that you are the mistaken altogether."  Once again, I assert the manner haughty.  "You speak, instead, of my daughter, who take the afternoon siesta."

    "Youngish doe?"

    "Si."

    "Got carried out naked a couple of weeks ago by Leslie duCleds?"

    If in this, this is how this insolent one view Inocenta, and he think that he may make the insinuation vile with this comment, this insolent one is altogether the mistaken, and will feel my wrath. Alas, this coward, he see the purple boil in my face, so he make with the paw-motion of the backing off.

    "Errrrrr, I'll take that as a yes."

    Heinrich, comrade of old, assert himself like the officer of the Kaiser that he was once the being.  He bang the fisted paw on the table, bare the wolfie teeth, and howl out.

    "YOU WILL GO, AND YOU WILL FETCH THE MANAGER!  MACH SCHNELL!"

    I am very proud of knowing Heinrich.  He is a good, how he would say, kamerad.

    The desk clerk, pouf!  He make with the shrug insolent and walk to the office of the back.  "Oooooooh, all right. But you won't like it."

    It was within the moments of the few that this manager appear before Heinrich and myself, Carlos de Ciervos. This manager, there is not much of him to see, for he is how you say the Mexican...ah, yes, the Chihuahua.  He peer at Carlos-self and Heinrich with the sad little eyes just above the little mustache of the pencil. Heinrich continue being the Kaisermann, and address the poochie with the manner parade-ground.

    "You are the manager, ja?"

    "Si."

    "Sehr guht.  Your name, mein Herr?"

    "Sy."

    "Sy?"

    "Si."

    Heinrich, he gives of himself to myself the look of the unease.  "Ach, Himmelherrgott, we have the Karl Bay Amerikaner Red Indian speaking to us with the monosyllable."  It is only with the difficulty that I do not ask the poochie (by which I am meaning the manager, not Heinrich) "How?"

    Heinrich, he address back the manager.  "So!  You are by chance being the Red Indian, ja?"

    "Si."

    "Ah!  What tribe?"

    "Sioux."

    "Sioux?"

    "Si."

    "Oh-ho-ho," Heinrich say.  "Mein Herr, have you ein sister?"

    "Si."

    "And her name?"

    "Sue."

    "Sue Sioux?"

    "Si, si."

    "And what does she do for a living?"

    "Sew."

    "So, sister Sue Sioux sews, Sy?"

    "Si."  (#)

    Myself and the Baron, we go out the quick, before the Baron, as he say, go krank in der Kopf.  I am thinking that somewhere, somehow, some fur create the policy deliberate and insidious.

*****

    It was being transpired that Senor duCleds was not in casa when he receive the party visiting.  His secretary, the Senorita Fawnsworthy (she is being the doe of Senor Buckhorn, who have, as Heinrich and myself are seeing, the very excellent taste), she give to us the advices that Senor duCleds has journeyed to the Eastern Island to have the inspection of his flying machine at the works there.  So!  Heinrich and myself engage the conveyance for this works, so to have having the conversation.

    It is with the mood black and the dark of soul that I, Carlos, utilize my seat.

    "Comrade of old," I say to my comrade of old, "this duCleds, this poochie, he is for to causing me the anxiety and the worry.  I am fully of the knowledge that he is the possessor of the great wealth, but what kind of gentlefur is it that goes around with the crash-bang-boum of the plane all over the runway, hmmmm?  This is not even to speak of the entrance into the formalities of the ball dressed like the beggar in the rags, and reeking of the ordure of the gull.  Is it being the unreasonable to worry like this?  Speak to me, Heinrich, the words of the truth."

    Heinrich, he sigh and polish his monocle.  I know my comrade of old, he is choosing his words with the care and gentleness, like the great gentlefur he is being.

    "Lieber Carlos!" he say, "you must steel yourself to the knowledge and fact that your liebchen, your how you say flan, has offered her fancy to him.  We, the gentlefurs, we do not much have the say in these kinds of matters.  It is a crushing truth, but it is the truth for all of that, nevertheless.  This has been said to me many times by the Baronin, and has been reinforced with the pottery and the silverware for the emphasis."

    I cast my eyes to my wrist, the poor wounded wrist, which is wrapped in the plaster of the wrapping.  This, this is courtesy of Inocenta, who make it clear to her Papi that she resist the intent of the attempt to physically separate her from this... this... THIS... pouf!  This duCleds.

    "Dios, Dios...I am suspecting that in that, you are true and correct altogether, my friend of old."  I brood.

    So!  We pass the machinery making the bim-bam-boum at the works.  I espy this blue-and-whiteness being of aeroplane, which is making the growling sound, and is making the pointy with the nose at this mound of earth about the 100 hoof-steps in the distance.

    "Pouf!  I am knowing, comrade of old, what this is.  I hear Inocenta speak of this in the tone rapture.  This is the how you say Birchie Eighteen Model."

    Heinrich correct myself, Carlos, saying the name is "Birchcraft."

    "Pouf!  Okeh, it is Birchcraft the Eighteenth.  It is nevertheless, the new aeroplane for the... the... pchtach!  The Senor duCleds!"

    Heinrich, he survey the plane with the eye approving through this monocle.  He was once the flyer for the Emperor, and the sight of the aeroplane make him happy.  I know this from the Baronin, that he has the great excitement and enjoyment thrilling of the engine that go vroum-vroum!

    And speaking of the vroum-vroum!  There is the boum-boum-karakarakah! from the front of the nose of the aeroplane, shooting out the fires and making the how you say confessioni of the target that is or was being the emplaced on the earthie mound.

    I am knowing that Heinrich is move by this sight.  His monocle, it pop out of his eye, and make swing the free.  He get the look strange and gleamy in the eyes. 

    "Gott in Himmel.  Ich bin in der Liebe."

    For myself, I am sitting with the air stunned.  What manner of lunatic is this, who make with the boum-boum-karakarakarakah! that my Inocenta to him offer her heart?


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