Spontoon Island
home
- contact - credits
- new - links -
history
- maps - art -
story
16 November 2007
| "Valentines Dazed"
by E.O. Costello, M. Mitchell Marmel, & Walter D. Reimer All
characters © their respective creators
Chapter 19I was a little disoriented, so I will have to take it on faith that on February 7th, yours truly was led like a good little fawn to Eastern Island, and Les' plane. Les informed me that pursuant to some ruling or other, I was barred from the cockpit. Frankly, I wouldn't have touched the cockpit with a twenty-foot pole, given my condition. I was still feeling woozy, and not altogether with full sets of wits (such as they are, in my case). Willow led me by the arm, and sat me down in one of the front seats. It was thus that I was able to see the passengers board: first came Baron von Kojote and the Baronin. He was wearing a happy expression, and one eye with a swirl of yellow under it. The Baronin was leading him firmly by the arm, and strapped him down very tightly in his window seat. The Baron sighed happily and gave his mate an adoring look. Next came the de Ciervos trio. Senora de Ciervos and Inocenta each gave me a smooch on the cheek, and Willow one too, for good measure. Senor de Ciervos had something on his mind, and moodily plumped himself into a seat. I saw Les leave the cockpit briefly, and poke his head out of the passenger door. After a short conversation, he went back to the cockpit, scratching his head. In bounced a slim tigress, one not familiar to me, who took the eighth and last passenger seat. Lodge supervised the loading of both our luggage, and some provisions for the flight, which included champagne for nearly everyone. And orange juice for yours truly. Uncanny how Lodge knows. The flight itself was pretty uneventful. Inocenta, during the flight, went back and changed into a stewardess' uniform, and happily served us champagne (or orange juice) and goodies. The Baronin kept a tight paw on the Baron, as the feel of the engines and the sight of Inocenta in a rather remarkably tailored uniform were proving very stimulating for him. Inocenta wanted to go and give Les something in the cockpit. Cooler heads, in the form of Willow and Inocenta's mother, prevailed, it being pointed out that Les was already occupied with something very important. Inocenta pouted, but took things like a lamb. The tigress kept to herself, which was not to say she was as gloomy as Senor de Ciervos. Far from it; she was humming cheerily to herself, and had two glasses of champagne. Willow seemed to have recovered from her funk of same days before (although she still seemed a bit on edge), and was determined to lift me out of the post-hangover brown study I had fallen into. This involved some gentle nuzzling on my ear, and the use of a paw. Truth be told, I was feeling the moral after-effects of my spree. There was a time when Reginald could have shrugged this sort of thing off, and would have been back for more, and then some. Somehow, the revels with Bacchus weren't as much fun as they were in years past. Willow, tactfully sensing that I was not in the whoopee mood, eventually settled for clutching one of my paws in hers, which truth be told was comforting. *****
Honolulu tower was asked, twice, if there were seagulls on the runway. I was assured that there were not, which helped make for a smooth landing. The Birchcraft flew like a dream, the engines in fine tune and purring like...well, like Inocenta. Which had me thinking (*after* I had shut the engines down, of course) about the arrangements. Lodge had tactfully put the von Kojotes and the de Ciervoses in one hotel, and Reggie, Willow and myself in three separate rooms in another hotel across the street. Lodge felt this was the best and most appropriate arrangement, and it was hard to fault his logic. What puzzled me was the sight of my Uncle Pete, who met the plane in Honolulu, and escorted the tigress off, arm in arm. I knew her slightly, she was one of Rosie's chums, but I was unsure exactly what was going on, especially since Uncle Pete gave her a jolly smooch in greeting. Oh, well. A lot of that going around. *****
Willow was still leading Reggie around by the paw. The poor guy seemed to still be down in the muzzle, and not his usual happy self. Guess his little rematch with ethanol had taken more out of him than usual. Willow was being as cheerful as she could under the circumstances, which I guess would help some. At least Lodge had gotten him into a decent blazer, Penn tie and all. It was about eleven when we got to downtown Honolulu, checked into our hotels, and then headed to the Royal Hawai'ian Club (where Reggie had a membership) for lunch. Reggie firmly insisted on an orange juice. He had to repeat the order, twice, as the waiter was confused. Guess he hadn't gotten the word that Reggie was back on the wagon. Inocenta insisted on one item from the menu: poi, with broiled mackerel on the side. I was puzzled. "Mackerel, Inocenta? Deer don't eat fish." "Pouf! Inocenta has the hungry appetites for the thing, the fishie chop-chop. Why? You are perhaps thinking that Inocenta may be doing the pushing of the leg?" Reggie was puzzled, too. "Well, I mean to say, Les has a point, Inocenta..." “Inocenta?” Senor de Ciervos put in. “Porque you eat the fish?” Inocenta tossed her headfur. "Again, pouf! It is being said that the fishie is good for the brain-feeds. You no eat the fishie brain-feed, Reggie?" That shut my brother Quaker up. Anyhow, the food came, and Inocenta polished her order off. Then went for seconds. Reggie, Papi and I exchanged nonplussed glances. Uncle Pete came bouncing in just as the entrees were being cleared out, tigress in tow. "Waiter! Never mind the dessert! More champagne!" "Er, I'll have another orange juice-" Reggie began. "One doesn't drink orange juice to celebrate a marriage, m'boy." "WHAT?" I gasped. A theatrical smack to his own forehead. "What a head I have on me. Mind elsewhere on this day, but who can blame me? Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce Mrs. Toni duCleds." I vaguely noted some applause and pawshakes and kisses and such over the buzzing in my ears. *****
Uncle Pete put an arm around my shoulder, and steered me toward the window. "Shocked, m'boy?" I could only nod, dumbly. "Heh, heh. Can you imagine what things are going to be like back in Delahare? Oh, this will set those bluenoses in the Social Register spinning, just you watch!" He rubbed his paws together in glee. I could only look at the window. Uncle Pete put his arm around my shoulder again. "Look, Les, I know what's on your mind. You're thinking this is the end for you, that you're never going to run duCleds Chemicals, right?" "Well, it looks that way, doesn't it? I mean, if you and Toni have kids, they're going to be ahead of me in the succession..." Uncle Pete shook his head. "Won't be happening, Les. Toni doesn't want children, and frankly, I'm too damned old to have kids. By the time any kids of mine are ready for college, I'm going to be past retirement age. Way past it. And the family has put way too much into you, Les, to just simply toss you aside." Uncle Pete turned to face me, paws on shoulders. "Toni signed a letter this morning. If, for some reason, we do have children, she's agreed that it isn't going to disturb the inheritance that's due you. You are going to be the head of the family, in due course, Les. I liked your father far too much to pull such a rotten trick on his son." He reached into his jacket, and pulled out a sealed envelope. "This letter is from me. It's your copy of a letter I sent to the Board last night. You're going to be a director of duCleds Chemicals, effective with the annual meeting next April, and Vice-Chairman. And my designated successor." I took the letter. It was very hard to answer that kind of a statement, and I was trying to search for something to say. Uncle Pete saw me struggling, and gave me a hug. "Don't bother, m'boy. I know what you're thinking. Just do me a favor. Do the right thing by your sweetheart, over there." "Good God, how the hell did you...?" "M'boy, even with only a casual glance in the room, it's pretty obvious where your attention is focused. And, for that matter, on whose attention your target is focusing *her* attentions. Listen, boy, don't make the same mistake I did. Don't find love too late in life. Grab it, now." With that, he left to go back to his lady-love, and down a glass of champagne or two. I barely touched mine. I had a lot on my mind. *****
Fortified with champagne, the whole group went out into the mild Honolulu sunshine. Mr. and Mrs. duCleds, with a cheery wave, strolled off arm in arm into a waiting limousine. The rest of us were breathing in the flower-ridden air, when Senor de Ciervos stretched a bit, and turned to his mate. "Consuela, mi amor?" “Si, Carlos?" "I am feeling that it is the most appropriate action, after the meals and the champagne and such, to make the necessary thing." "Ah?" "Si. Permit me to suggest that we go back to the hotel. Perhaps we have the "nooner," I think that is being the expression, yes?" At this, the eyes of Consuela de Ciervos grew as wide as saucers, and there was an intake of breath. I turned to look at Willow, who was suppressing a giggle behind a paw. When I turned back, all I could see was Senor de Ciervos' straw boater, slowly rolling down the sidewalk. All trace of Senor and Senora de Ciervos had vanished, as if by a magician's trick. The Baron polished his monocle, and blinked through it, at the hat, as if he expected to pick it up, reach into it, and pull out a buck. The Baronin had more presence of mind, and picked up the hat, and gently led her mate off to do some shopping. Willow and Inocenta whispered together, and trotted off. Les shrugged, and said he was heading back to his hotel room. I decided to poke around at the local F.R. Buckhorn & Sons office. Perhaps they'd finally let that skunk out of the closet, the one I had locked up just before Christmas. A surprise visit would no doubt prove interesting. *****
Inocenta was being told by the Willow that the best thing to make for the Leslie-puppy would be the surprise visit. Pouf! As if Inocenta was not in the knowledge of this already. Still, Inocenta is thinking that Willow have her heart in the placing appropriate. Inocenta thinks: how does she get into the room of the Leslie-puppy? Leslie-puppy is very shy, Inocenta is thinking, and does not wish to make the broadcast of the fact that he love Inocenta. The Willow smile at Inocenta, the very crafty smile like Mami has so often, and reach into her purse. Ah-hi! Willow have the extra lockie-key for the Leslie-puppy room. But of course, the Willow is the secretary for Leslie-puppy, and it is not of the outrageous that the secretary have the key to get to the boss. Pouf! It is the work of the moment to get the lockie-key for Inocenta. Reggie is so very lucky to have such a clever lady deers for his lover. Just like Leslie-puppy! *****
A nice, hot shower, followed by a good long nap would probably set me up well for dinner, and then a good night's sleep before the return flight. Still, it was a bit lonely. Seeing Uncle Pete with (gosh!) Aunt Toni was making me think. Lodge was right about the arrangements, of course, but still, I wish he wasn't always so right. I wrapped a towel around my midsection, and went yawning back to the bed. I had almost reached it, when a paw came out of nowhere and yanked my towel away. The paw had a connection with a soft giggle. Turning around, I could see that the paw and the giggle were connected with a very charming doe, in fact, the best looking one in the world, who right now had changed back into her Pan-Nimitz uniform. It was enough to make me wag my tail, as any red-blooded pooch would do. "Give that back, Inocenta." "No." She hid the towel behind herself, and stuck her tongue out at me. "Inocenta, give me the towel." "Pouf! You are wanting the towel so much, Leslie-puppy, you come here and take it from Inocenta, yes?" This set her tail flagging, and she stuck her tongue out at me, and began to maneuver around the room. I did, eventually, get the towel away from her. And a lot more, too. Damnit, not only is Lodge right, but so is Uncle Pete. next |