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Tzimmes Cracked Corn (And I Don’t Care)
A Spontoon Island story
© 2022 Walter Reimer
(Characters courtesy of M. Mitch Marmel and E.O. Costello. Thanks!)
Thumbnail art by
katiekat
12.
Allan:
Vee and I had taken a late breakfast, almost lunch, at the hotel restaurant. We had stayed at the Marleybone the last time we’d come out to the Spontoons for Willow and Reggie’s wedding, but the food at Shepherd’s was easily as good.
With that taken care of, we decided to drop by and visit Willow. The odds were high that she and Reggie would be awake if I recalled how much of an early riser me and Vee’s children had been. Something, I must add, that Vee likes to remind Allan IV of every now and then.
The door was answered by Lodge, who Willow had assured me last year that he was in the know regarding her past and her connection to Minkerton’s. “Good morning, Lodge.”
“Mr. Minkerton,” the beaver said. “Please come in.”
“Is Mrs. Buckhorn in?” Vee asked.
“Indeed, Ma’am,” Lodge replied. “I shall go see if she’s seeing visitors,” and he made himself scarce.
We weren’t kept waiting long. “Well! This is a surprise! I was just coming to see you,” Willow said, giving both of us a hug and a kiss. “Are you starting to get premonitions, Aunt Vee?”
My wife snickered. “Hardly, dear. You were coming to see us?”
“It’s been a while since you reported in,” I said.
My goddaughter and reserve agent gave me a smile. “Reggie and I were having breakfast at Luchow’s, and we heard the New Haven Embassy warming up. Same old song, though.” She looked a little grim. “I’m not having them disturbing Da and Rosie’s wedding.” Willow gestured for us to take seats and she said, “I want to make sure they can’t interfere.”
I glanced at Vee.
Yep.
I took a breath. “Agent Fawnsworthy,” I said.
She held up a paw. “Nothing violent. I don’t want Da getting involved.”
“So, what do you have in mind, dear?” Vee asked.
“Vee?”
She gave me a very intense look and said one word. “Giri.”
My ears went flat as I sighed. It’s a Japanese word that means ‘obligation.’ Franklin’s one of my oldest and closest friends, and that places a heavy obligation on me. “All right,” I said to my godchild. “Go on, and it had better be good.”
Willow caught my tone of voice. “What I want to do,” she said in a careful, professional tone, “is to distract them, keep them busy so that they won’t have the opportunity to harass Da and Rosie, or disrupt their wedding.”
“Uh huh. Do you plan on trespassing?”
“No, sir.”
“Not even to write Bolshies Go Home on the wall of the building?”
Despite herself, Willow giggled. “Not even that. I was going to start by doing some reconnaissance.”
I blinked. “After all the time you spent here, you never surveilled the Embassy?”
“I avoided the entire area,” Willow said. “Most of the time I was dealing with Leslie duCleds, and the rest of the time I was with Reggie.”
“Uh huh. Agent Minkerton?” My wife perked her ears. “I fancy a walk, to enjoy this lovely weather. Would you like to come with me?”
Vee gave me a delighted smile. “Yes, sir!”
“And you, Agent Fawnsworthy,” I said to Willow, “I expect you to start coming up with a plan, understood?” She nodded, and I said, “Good, that’s settled. Now, is it all right if your Aunt Victoria and I visit your son before we go for a walk?”
“Sure!”
***
Ranua:
“Hey, Ranua?” I looked up and saw Paul Scarlet, the boss of the base’s Intelligence shop, wave at me. “Need a word with you.”
“Sure.” I turned the papers I was looking at face-down and stepped into his office, standing so I had my desk in my peripheral vision. “What’s up, Paul?”
The wolf also stood so he could spot anyone coming over to my desk. There are hints that he did field work before he got promoted to the Moon Island office, and he’s still good at it.
What papers was I looking at? Can’t tell you.
“This came to you from The Magician,” and I felt a bulky envelope placed in my paw.
“Priority?”
“Not really,” Paul said, so I took it back to my desk.
Once I got done with what I was doing and put the papers back in my safe, I opened up the envelope and took out another sealed envelope and a cover letter.
Sure enough, the letter was from Vice-Commodore Broome. “I expect that you’ll be attending Inspector Stagg’s wedding on 2 October. Please make sure that he gets this envelope. Richard.”
The envelope’s addressed to the Inspector, so I won’t open it.
Obviously Miri’s going to wear her best dress to the church, but should I wear my suit, or my formal uniform?
There’ll be time to figure that out.
***
Lodge:
After duly admiring young Master Thomas, the Minkertons left. Shortly thereafter, Mr. Buckhorn returned to the room.
I was somewhat relieved to see that Mister Buckhorn was not inebriated following his brief foray to the Long Bar of the hotel. One thing that I may be so bold as to add to Mrs. Buckhorn’s credit is the fact that she has been a wholesome influence on him.
Still, the look in his eyes began to fill me with a certain, and familiar, sense of resigned dread.
“Lodge! There you are.”
Mrs. Buckhorn shushed him. “Tommy’s sleeping.”
“Oh! Righto,” and my employer moderated his tone somewhat. “Lodge, I have had an idea, and am motivated to act on that idea, in the interest of cervine solidarity.”
“Indeed, Sir.”
I saw Mrs. Buckhorn look up from her magazine, with her ears swiveling.
Mr. Buckhorn gave his wife a broad smile before returning to his idea. “I’ve had a brief interview with Fausti, one of nature’s noblemen and a fine, albeit nearly invisible, mixologist of no mean repute.”
“Yes, Sir?”
“And would you believe it, Lodge, that none of the bookmakers in the Spontoons would allow Fausti to place a wager on me?”
Mrs. Buckhorn’s ears began to swivel more rapidly as she listened. “A wager, Sir?”
“Just so. Imagine all the punters laying odds on when I’ll go off the rails, having departed the gloom of Olde England for the sun-kissed Spontoons, only to find that I do nothing to excite comment or the attention of the Riot Squad for my entire sojourn.” He started to clap his paws together, suddenly recalled that his son was sleeping in the next room, and after a moment dropped his paws to his sides.
“Reggie?” Mrs. Buckhorn set aside her magazine.
“Yes, Willow?”
“No alcohol.”
“Of course not, my dear. Would you like to have lunch before I shift ho for the purlieus of Casino Island?”
Mrs. Buckhorn smiled. “Yes, I would.”
I decided to trust Mrs. Buckhorn’s instincts to guide her husband into safer waters.
***
Rosie:
Later, that night, while giving him a hoofrub, I decided to bring up the subject.
“Um, Franneleh?”
“Yes, Rosie?”
“Well, it’s about those indefinites at the New Haven Embassy.”
A short silence. “Ye-es?”
“We can’t have them sticking their fool muzzles in and ruining the wedding – “
“Rosie?”
“Yes?”
"Are you about to tell me what you or someone else may be planning?"
"Erm, yes?"
"Please don't.”
“Why?”
“I want to be able to deny everything."
"Ah. Gotcha."
<NEXT>
<PREVIOUS>
<FIRST>
A Spontoon Island story
© 2022 Walter Reimer
(Characters courtesy of M. Mitch Marmel and E.O. Costello. Thanks!)
Thumbnail art by
katiekat12.
Allan:
Vee and I had taken a late breakfast, almost lunch, at the hotel restaurant. We had stayed at the Marleybone the last time we’d come out to the Spontoons for Willow and Reggie’s wedding, but the food at Shepherd’s was easily as good.
With that taken care of, we decided to drop by and visit Willow. The odds were high that she and Reggie would be awake if I recalled how much of an early riser me and Vee’s children had been. Something, I must add, that Vee likes to remind Allan IV of every now and then.
The door was answered by Lodge, who Willow had assured me last year that he was in the know regarding her past and her connection to Minkerton’s. “Good morning, Lodge.”
“Mr. Minkerton,” the beaver said. “Please come in.”
“Is Mrs. Buckhorn in?” Vee asked.
“Indeed, Ma’am,” Lodge replied. “I shall go see if she’s seeing visitors,” and he made himself scarce.
We weren’t kept waiting long. “Well! This is a surprise! I was just coming to see you,” Willow said, giving both of us a hug and a kiss. “Are you starting to get premonitions, Aunt Vee?”
My wife snickered. “Hardly, dear. You were coming to see us?”
“It’s been a while since you reported in,” I said.
My goddaughter and reserve agent gave me a smile. “Reggie and I were having breakfast at Luchow’s, and we heard the New Haven Embassy warming up. Same old song, though.” She looked a little grim. “I’m not having them disturbing Da and Rosie’s wedding.” Willow gestured for us to take seats and she said, “I want to make sure they can’t interfere.”
I glanced at Vee.
Yep.
I took a breath. “Agent Fawnsworthy,” I said.
She held up a paw. “Nothing violent. I don’t want Da getting involved.”
“So, what do you have in mind, dear?” Vee asked.
“Vee?”
She gave me a very intense look and said one word. “Giri.”
My ears went flat as I sighed. It’s a Japanese word that means ‘obligation.’ Franklin’s one of my oldest and closest friends, and that places a heavy obligation on me. “All right,” I said to my godchild. “Go on, and it had better be good.”
Willow caught my tone of voice. “What I want to do,” she said in a careful, professional tone, “is to distract them, keep them busy so that they won’t have the opportunity to harass Da and Rosie, or disrupt their wedding.”
“Uh huh. Do you plan on trespassing?”
“No, sir.”
“Not even to write Bolshies Go Home on the wall of the building?”
Despite herself, Willow giggled. “Not even that. I was going to start by doing some reconnaissance.”
I blinked. “After all the time you spent here, you never surveilled the Embassy?”
“I avoided the entire area,” Willow said. “Most of the time I was dealing with Leslie duCleds, and the rest of the time I was with Reggie.”
“Uh huh. Agent Minkerton?” My wife perked her ears. “I fancy a walk, to enjoy this lovely weather. Would you like to come with me?”
Vee gave me a delighted smile. “Yes, sir!”
“And you, Agent Fawnsworthy,” I said to Willow, “I expect you to start coming up with a plan, understood?” She nodded, and I said, “Good, that’s settled. Now, is it all right if your Aunt Victoria and I visit your son before we go for a walk?”
“Sure!”
***
Ranua:
“Hey, Ranua?” I looked up and saw Paul Scarlet, the boss of the base’s Intelligence shop, wave at me. “Need a word with you.”
“Sure.” I turned the papers I was looking at face-down and stepped into his office, standing so I had my desk in my peripheral vision. “What’s up, Paul?”
The wolf also stood so he could spot anyone coming over to my desk. There are hints that he did field work before he got promoted to the Moon Island office, and he’s still good at it.
What papers was I looking at? Can’t tell you.
“This came to you from The Magician,” and I felt a bulky envelope placed in my paw.
“Priority?”
“Not really,” Paul said, so I took it back to my desk.
Once I got done with what I was doing and put the papers back in my safe, I opened up the envelope and took out another sealed envelope and a cover letter.
Sure enough, the letter was from Vice-Commodore Broome. “I expect that you’ll be attending Inspector Stagg’s wedding on 2 October. Please make sure that he gets this envelope. Richard.”
The envelope’s addressed to the Inspector, so I won’t open it.
Obviously Miri’s going to wear her best dress to the church, but should I wear my suit, or my formal uniform?
There’ll be time to figure that out.
***
Lodge:
After duly admiring young Master Thomas, the Minkertons left. Shortly thereafter, Mr. Buckhorn returned to the room.
I was somewhat relieved to see that Mister Buckhorn was not inebriated following his brief foray to the Long Bar of the hotel. One thing that I may be so bold as to add to Mrs. Buckhorn’s credit is the fact that she has been a wholesome influence on him.
Still, the look in his eyes began to fill me with a certain, and familiar, sense of resigned dread.
“Lodge! There you are.”
Mrs. Buckhorn shushed him. “Tommy’s sleeping.”
“Oh! Righto,” and my employer moderated his tone somewhat. “Lodge, I have had an idea, and am motivated to act on that idea, in the interest of cervine solidarity.”
“Indeed, Sir.”
I saw Mrs. Buckhorn look up from her magazine, with her ears swiveling.
Mr. Buckhorn gave his wife a broad smile before returning to his idea. “I’ve had a brief interview with Fausti, one of nature’s noblemen and a fine, albeit nearly invisible, mixologist of no mean repute.”
“Yes, Sir?”
“And would you believe it, Lodge, that none of the bookmakers in the Spontoons would allow Fausti to place a wager on me?”
Mrs. Buckhorn’s ears began to swivel more rapidly as she listened. “A wager, Sir?”
“Just so. Imagine all the punters laying odds on when I’ll go off the rails, having departed the gloom of Olde England for the sun-kissed Spontoons, only to find that I do nothing to excite comment or the attention of the Riot Squad for my entire sojourn.” He started to clap his paws together, suddenly recalled that his son was sleeping in the next room, and after a moment dropped his paws to his sides.
“Reggie?” Mrs. Buckhorn set aside her magazine.
“Yes, Willow?”
“No alcohol.”
“Of course not, my dear. Would you like to have lunch before I shift ho for the purlieus of Casino Island?”
Mrs. Buckhorn smiled. “Yes, I would.”
I decided to trust Mrs. Buckhorn’s instincts to guide her husband into safer waters.
***
Rosie:
Later, that night, while giving him a hoofrub, I decided to bring up the subject.
“Um, Franneleh?”
“Yes, Rosie?”
“Well, it’s about those indefinites at the New Haven Embassy.”
A short silence. “Ye-es?”
“We can’t have them sticking their fool muzzles in and ruining the wedding – “
“Rosie?”
“Yes?”
"Are you about to tell me what you or someone else may be planning?"
"Erm, yes?"
"Please don't.”
“Why?”
“I want to be able to deny everything."
"Ah. Gotcha."
<NEXT>
<PREVIOUS>
<FIRST>
Category Story / General Furry Art
Species Deer
Size 714 x 1068px
File Size 199.1 kB
I took a breath. “Agent Fawnsworthy,” I said.
She held up a paw. “Nothing violent. I don’t want Da getting involved.”
"..and the fire department.."
She held up a paw. “Nothing violent. I don’t want Da getting involved.”
"..and the fire department.."
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