Very Fawnedly Yours

© 2013 by Walter Reimer

(All characters courtesy of  EOCostello,  MercMarten and  Major Matt Mason. Any resemblance between characters depicted herein and any real person, living or dead, is too bad for them.)

The setting is Spontoon Island, in the story section Let's Doe It (Let's Fall In Love).

Art by  turnbolt


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Part 62.



Der Tag! – You’re It.

Reggie:

Quite unaccountably, I had been having an extremely vivid dream about Samoa.

There I was, encircled by rather large native chappies intent on displaying to me their impressive chest measurements and intent on demonstrating the sharpness of their shark spears.

Said demonstration being in my vulnerable flesh was the occasion of a great deal of apprehension on my part.

And then . . .

My first thought was “Good Lord! I haven’t done anything like that since I was a fawn!”

I laid a paw on Willow’s shoulder as she stirred. “I’m so dreadfully sorry, my dear – “

“Reggie . . . “

“Yes, Willow?”

“My water’s broken.”

Why would she be worried about something like that?

“Oh. Well, I suppose we’ll have to get it repaired, then.”

“No, Reggie. My water broke.”

“I can get you another, love.”

She rolled over in bed – rather slowly, I think – and grabbed my antlers. In the darkness, I could see her looking intently at me.

I returned her gaze soulfully.

“Reggie,” she said slowly, “I am going to have a baby.”

“I know that, Willow.”

“No. I’m going to have a baby. Right. NOW.”


***


Willow:

Reggie nodded.

And then he froze.

Even in the dark, I could see his eyes getting about as big around as dinner plates.

Again.

I wasn’t certain he was even breathing.

“Er . . . Reggie?”

In a literal explosion of bedclothes, Reggie erupted from the bed in his pajamas and started dashing about. On at least two occasions he crashed headlong into walls, but I doubt he was feeling anything at this point.

I, however, was starting to feel.

Far too much.

Inside, Grace made an appearance, in bathrobe and curlers. (What's happening?)

(Whaddaya THINK?!)

Grace flinched at the shout, but her outrage at being talked to in that manner – and by me, who she sometimes considers the ‘junior partner’ in my head – came a cropper when she spotted the flashing red light.

(Uh, oh.)

(Uh oh is right. Battle stations, Grace.)

Grace obligingly changed to wearing oilskins. Since my water had broken, I didn’t think this was funny at all.

But a thought did occur to me.

(Grace!)

(Yes?)

(When our labor starts, Twin . . . )

(What?)

(I want you to grab something and hang on.)

(Oh, surely, Willow - )

(You don’t want to end up in the FAWN, now do you?)

( . . . )

(Didn’t think so.)

Interestingly, a boat anchor and plenty of rope had appeared by the time I resurfaced.

Meanwhile, Reggie had apparently found the door (or maybe had battered it down) and was running about the house, shouting incoherently.

I started to get out of bed. I didn’t think any real contractions would –


!


Wow.

Really takes your breath away.


***


Gwladys:

“What the blazes is all that shouting?” Joss demanded. “Sounds like your idiot fawn.”

I looked up from my reading, and flicked an ear. “Yes, that does sound like Reggie. Can’t quite make out what he’s saying, though. Sounds very agitated about something.”

Josslyn merely grumbled, and rolled over in bed. He stuffed his bedclothes tightly around his ears.

I got up and put on a housecoat and slippers. Might as well see what’s going on.


***


Reggie:

WhatdoIdo WhatdoIdo WhatdoIdo WhatdoIdo WhatdoIdo WhatdoIdo WhatdoIdo WhatdoIdo WhatdoIdo WhatdoIdo WhatdoIdo WhatdoIdo WhatdoIdo WhatdoIdo WhatdoIdo WhatdoIdo WhatdoIdo WhatdoIdo WhatdoIdo . . .

“Excuse me, Sir?”

WhatdoIdo WhatdoIdo WhatdoIdo WhatdoIdo WhatdoIdo WhatdoIdo WhatdoIdo WhatdoIdo WhatdoIdo WhatdoIdo WhatdoIdo WhatdoIdo WhatdoIdo WhatdoIdo – Whuh?

“Mister Buckhorn?”

Lodge?

Lodge!

“LODGE!”

My beaver chum was standing right there in front of me, dressed as he usually is.

Does he SLEEP like that?

Never mind.

I grabbed him by the lapels. “W-W-W-Willow’s – “

“Having her baby, Sir?”

As usual, Lodge Knows All.

I didn’t want him to slap me again, so I took a deep breath and nodded.

Lodge smiled. “I am very happy for you both, Sir. I have instructed Mr. Gumpert to bring the car around.”

I nodded dumbly. Well, dumb as well as daft.

Lodge cleared his throat delicately. “I believe, Sir, that you may want to get dressed.”

“I – but – I AM dressed!”

“I would suggest something more appropriate than pajamas, Sir.”

Good Lord, he’s right.

As I shifted off to my room, I think I saw Mummy walking up the stairs.


***


Gwladys:

“Josslyn?”

“Mrrrmmmm.”

“Willow’s having her baby.”

There was a pause, and with a startled whistle-snort the blankets flew off the bed and Josslyn pronked halfway to the closet door.

For a brief moment, I was concerned for his health.

“I said, Willow’s having her baby.”

“HERE!?”

I planted my paws on my hips. “Why not? Reggie was born here in the house, after all – well, the old house, but you know what I mean. I can’t think of a better place.”

Josslyn’s paws started to shake.

“But I think they’re going to go to the hospital in Chipping Buncombe. Willow told me that it’d been arranged in case there are any complications.”

He still looked very nervous, and I went to go get dressed.


***


Josslyn:

Good Lord, NOW!?

NOW!?

Where . . . where are those dratted tranquilizers? Damned doctors . . .

There they are.

Must wash them down with something.

Scotch decanter’s full . . .


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