Tzimmes Cracked Corn (And I Don’t Care)
A Spontoon Island story
© 2022 Walter Reimer
(Characters courtesy of M. Mitch Marmel, J.T. Urie and E.O. Costello. Thanks!)

Thumbnail art by  turnbolt

6.


Brush:

The second day come around, an’ Fadder Merino read th’ banns out again. Done my heart good ta hear ‘em, ‘cause th’ Inspector’s been looking better’n I’ve seen him in years.

After he told me, an’ I agreed ta be his best man, Kiki an’ me went ta see a Wise One to tell her th’ good news. An’ no, she weren’t onea my or Kiki’s kin. She was glad ta hear it, blessed me an’ Kiki both fer comin’ ta her, and said that she’d spread th’ word ta th’ other Wise Ones.

Then she got serious, an’ took me aside. “Looked through the fire I have, Karok-son-Karok,” she said, “and I saw darkness trailing the hooves of Lawgiver-Who-Limps.”

I give the Wise One a nod, an’ b’lieve me I’m listenin’ wit’ both ears. “Please, Wise One, impart to self if you were able to discern anything of this darkness?”

She almost gives me a slap across the head, but holds off an’ sez, “Witnessing-Gods, Karok-son-Karok, all I have seen I have imparted. Stay on your guard, to shield Lawgiver-Who-Limps.”

“Witnessing-Gods, Wise One, I shall do as I have done.” That seemed to shut her trap, so she goes an’ has a chat wit’ Kiki while I start thinkin.’

Yeah, I know how t’do that, what are yez, a comedian or sumpin’?

Anyhoo, I get t’thinkin.’ Whoze th’ biggest threats ta th’ Inspector? Geeze, that’s simple, those yeggs on Krupmark, startin’ wit’ th’ Ni Family. Onea th’ big shots there hired some crazy New Haven guy ta try ta kill th’ Inspector a few years back, but I got ta him first.

Sent him back to Krupmark, postage due. Ashes fit real easy in an envelope, an’ it caused a ruckus over there that kept ‘em quiet fer a while.

Had some guy call me ‘Stagg’s Shadow’ and, heh, more truth’n poetry in that.

So I keep my eyes an’ ears open, an’ by th’ time me an’ Kiki head back ta th’ longhouse, I decide ta spread a little word ‘round that I ain’t puttin’ up wit’ no guff from anyfur about this.

An’ I think I know just where ta start.


***


Willow:

The responses to the telegrams were waiting for us, and both the Minkertons and the du Cledses were very enthusiastic and grateful. So, a little diversion of the FRB consist (a day here or there isn’t going to seriously dent our travel plans) was called for to meet my former boss and his wife, and Rosie’s longtime friend and her husband.

Tommy managed to make both sets of adults turn into puddles. They oohed and ahhed over him until Sophia shooed them away so he could have his nap. The consist set off for Chicago, and we all started to settle down.

While Pierre du Cleds and Reggie went off to discuss some business, with Reggie keen to learn how Leslie and Inocenta were doing, Allan took me aside. “Agent Fawnsworthy,” he said.

“Sir.”

“I see a decided lack of Agent Ritterherz with you. Wasn’t she feeling well?”

“I asked Gwladys, strictly on the Q.T. She begged off,” I said. “She told me that she wanted to look after her husband.”

Allan raised an eyebrow. “Lord Josslyn’s ill?”

“His same old irascible self,” I replied, “but she thinks there might be something at the bottom of it.” After that, Allan went to where Pierre and Reggie were sitting and three mels soon started discussing the world situation while I and the other femmes went elsewhere to talk.

“Willow, he is simply gorgeous,” Vee said. “With those beautiful eyes of his, he’ll break hearts.”

I grinned. Tommy’s eyes are a deep violet, just like my younger sister Margaret, may she rest in peace. “I already have a baseball bat.” I also had my special purse, the one with the armor plate and concealed pistol inside.

Toni chuckled. “To hit the girls, or bop him upside the head if he starts helling around?” We all got a little laugh out of that, and the tigress leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Did Rosie tell you?” she asked me.

I frowned. “No . . . ?”

Her grin got wider. “In her telegram to me, she told me that Hubby-to-be had knocked her up.” She sat back. “Ain’t that a hoot?”

“ . . . “

Vee asked, “Willow?”

“ . . . “

“Willow?”

“Hm? Oh! Uh . . . “

Vee knows about Grace, and the minkess’s tail swished. “That’s great news, isn’t it?” she asked, while giving me a significant look.

“Oh, yes! It’s wonderful news!” I said.

While setting up an appointment with Grace for later.

After we all turned in for the night, I lay there beside Reggie. “Grace?”

I found myself in an office, with Grace looking rather chic in a business suit and seated behind a desk. (“About time, Twin.”)

“Well, it couldn’t be helped, not without a lot of awkward explanations. Now, how do you feel about it?”

(“About Father and Rosalie having a child?”) Grace clasped her paws before her on the desk and looked down at them for a moment. (“Rosalie makes him happy, and – and I think a fawn will give him more reason to go on.”) She gave me a smile. (“What do you think?”)

We were suddenly on a grassy hill at night, while fireworks lit up the sky. “Does that answer your question?”


***


Brush:

“Mornin’ . . . Mrs. Ni.”

Took me about two hours o’ watchin’ ta spot her at the market on Casino. She’s showin,’ see, ‘bout a month or two gone, an’ I’m still shakin’ my head ‘bout her an’ Hao havin’ a kid. Anyhoo, she almost drops her bag before she gets unner control.

“Sergeant,” she sez. Went ta some high-tone girl’s school in Hong Kong, so I hears. Gives her English a slightly snooty accent. Makes me wonder what she sees in the little troublemaker.

At least she didn’t go ta Songmark. If I was gonna talk wit’ Wo Shin, I’d make an appointment. She’da had me spotted afore I could get this close.

So I make a point o’ glancin’ around. “Where’s yer hubby?”

“Hao’s away on business,” she sez. Yeah, business, heh. “Is there something I can do for you?” She’s glancin’ around.

I grin. “Yez don’ need yer bodyguards, although I seen all three o’ dem. I gotta message fer yer hubby an’ yer in-laws.”

“Oh.” She calms down quick. “What’s the message?”

“Inspector Stagg’s gettin’ married,” I sez, “an’ I ain’t wantin’ any trouble from th’ likes o’ yer family, or from Krupmark, yez get me?”

Takes her a minute to recall who I’m talkin’ about. Th’ Inspector showed up at her an’ Hao’s weddin.’ Th’ cowrie drops, and her ears twitch. “He’s getting married?”

“Yeah.”

She smiles at me. Yeah, a gangster’s moll she ain’t. “I’ll pass your message on, Sergeant, and please pass on my congratulations.” She glances down at her shoppin’ bags an’ her belly. “Is that all?”

“Yeah, fer now.”

“Thank you, Sergeant,” but she sez it t’ my back.

I get back t’ th’ office, an’ as I sit down th’ Inspector asks, “Anything going on, Sergeant?”

“No, Sir. So far.”

But I’m keepin’ my ears an’ eyes open.


***


Reggie:

The trip across America gave me the chance to get a look at how things were going. Allan and Pierre were great to talk to.

I wish I could say that things were going swimmingly, but on the few occasions we had to stop for water or supplies or what have you I kept seeing furs walking around wearing white armbands. Willow did her best to ignore it, but I could tell that Grace was seething.

Pierre shook his head. “Anti-Wealth League. Minkerton’s keeping an eye on them, Allan?”

“Two eyes, Pierre,” the former boss of Minkerton’s said. “President Long’s trying to hold the country together, but he’s refusing to repudiate the AWL.”

“It’s a sad thing to see,” I said.

Allan’s paw came down on my shoulder. “We’ll get through this. America’s stronger than you think. But that reminds me, how are things going in Europe?”

“Ah, well, that unpleasant fellow in Germany’s making noises at Czechoslovakia. Some of the papers are talking about the possibility of another war, but Mosley’s keeping mum about whether we’ll back up France in defending the Czechs.” I sighed. “Rather a muddle, I’m afraid. You lot here in America are well out of that.”

My canine guest, Pierre, gave a shrug. “Les has been telling me that orders for munitions are up, so if anything happens in Europe – or Asia, for that matter – we should be ready.”


***


Bernyce Pratt-Wallingford:

“Baroness?”

I looked up from the letter I was writing. “Yes, Angelica?”

“The bags are packed, Ma’am.”

“Excellent. We’ll leave shortly.” Angelica bowed and slipped out of the room, and I returned to my letter.

Although I would dearly love to attend your wedding, dearest Franklin, the situation here in Europe is becoming rather tense. The train stations and airports are very full of people attempting to get out of the way if matters devolve into open conflict. In some ways, it reminds me of the situation in New Haven City, all those weary years ago.

Although Liechtenstein’s neutral, it is far too small to be noticed if the Powers decide to go stomping all over the place. So while it may be a somewhat hackneyed statement, I am getting out while the getting’s good.

I have a chalet in Switzerland that suits me quite agreeably, so I am temporarily closing my home here in Triesen and quietly slipping across the border. The art and my library shall be following me as soon as practicable.

Rosie, my sweet girl, I am supremely happy for you, as well as jealous that you have succeeded where I have failed. Well, c’est la vie.

Best regards and all my love,

Bernyce




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