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A Matter of Survival
A modern Spontoon Island story
© 2023 by Walter Reimer
Thumbnail art by
rabbi-tom
Sixteen.
The next day, Stagg sat on his hotel bed cross-legged and dressed only in his fur as he gazed down at the screen of his laptop. Digital images scrolled across the surface as he read through them, aware from the rumbling in his stomach that it was getting on toward lunch.
Jill had certainly come through, and he made a note to go talk to her and thank her when he returned to Spontoon.
His phone rang, and he absently groped for it before accepting the call and bringing it to his ear. “Stagg.”
“Frank, Kent here. I’m on my way to pick you up.”
The hybrid tore his gaze away from the documents on his laptop. “Why?”
“Judge Gore wants us in her chambers ASAP.”
“Right. I’ll meet you in the lobby.” The call ended, and the cheetah-cervine closed his laptop and started moving. Fortunately, he could move fast if he wanted to, and he’d already had a shower. Getting dressed was a simple enough matter.
He stepped out of the hotel as Twyford pulled up. Stagg climbed in beside the buck, and as they pulled away from the curb the hybrid asked, “Good news?”
“I hope.” Kent’s expression was set. “She sounded angry.”
Stagg felt his ears dip. Judge Gore was rather harsh in a good mood, from what he’d seen.
***
The secretary passed them right through her outer office and into the feline’s office. “Judge Gore,” Twyford said as he led Stagg into the room. There were two other furs in the office with the gray tabby; one was Kinney, his ears flat against his head, and the other was a stern-looking red fox tod. “Sorry we’re late.”
“No matter, Mr. Twyford. Sit down. I’m afraid there are no extra seats, Mr. Stagg.” The fox did a small double take at the sight of the cheetah-whitetail, but didn’t say anything.
“I’ll stand, thank you, Your Honor.”
Gore acknowledged this with a nod. “Mr. Twyford, this is Mr. Tainafi, the Spontoonie Consul here in San Francisco.” The two shook paws, and the judge said, “I invited Mr. Tainafi and called you two in here because Mr. Kinney has something to say.” She glowered at the Alsatian.
Kinney cleared his throat. “Er, yes. The detectives contacted me earlier yesterday to inform me that they were unable to find any evidence that Jasper Wu murdered the woman found in his hotel room.” He shifted slightly in his seat. “Therefore the District Attorney will be dropping the remaining charges against Mr. Wu and releasing him immediately.”
Tainafi smiled, his brush flicking slightly.
Twyford’s flag remained still. He gave Kinney a speculative look. “That includes all items of his personal property seized as evidence?”
The Alsatian sighed. “Yes, everything.” He glanced at the judge, who tipped her head toward him, and he said, “I would also extend my personal apology to Mr. Wu and his family for this unpleasant incident.”
“Mr. Twyford?” the judge asked. “Is this acceptable?”
The whitetail buck glanced at Kinney. “Clean record?” The canine nodded, and Twyford said to the judge, “This is acceptable, Your Honor.”
“Mr. Stagg?”
“Yes, Your Honor?”
Gore smiled. “It seems you won’t have a roommate now.”
“Thank you, Your Honor.”
***
Wu stepped out of the jail and stood for a moment, blinking in the sunlight as he put his suitcase down. The Shar Pei-wolf turned as a tod-fox in a business suit walked up and the two began speaking in rapid Spontoonie as they shook paws.
Twyford turned to Stagg. “Job well done, I think,” and he offered a paw.
Stagg took it. “I think so, yes,” he said after they shook paws. “Will Mr. Kinney be in any trouble?”
“Some level of reprimand, possibly,” the older buck said. “The detectives will be in more trouble.” They turned as Tainafi clapped Wu on the shoulder, shook paws with him again, and went back to his waiting car. “Congratulations on your release, Mr. Wu.”
“I have both of you to thank for it, Mr. Twyford,” and he shook paws with both attorneys. “Witnessing-Gods, self-same am relieved-emphasis, also pleased-emphasis, that you-same came to help me,” he said to Stagg in Spontoonie. He reached into a bag containing his cell phone, poked at it, and grimaced. “I want to call my wife.”
“You said that your phone was deactivated,” Stagg said, “so I took the liberty of obtaining one from a pharmacy,” and he fished a burner phone from his suit pocket. He gave the device, much simpler than Wu’s phone, to the canine, who thanked him and started dialing. He connected and for a while the two lawyers stood and listened as the canine wept while speaking to his mate.
Twyford went to get his car while Stagg opened his own phone and dialed. “Good afternoon,” he said. “This is Frank Stagg, calling from America; I’d like to speak with Mrs. Ni Xia, please. Yes, I’ll hold.”
He wasn’t kept waiting long. “Hello, Mrs. Ni. I’d like to report that Mr. Wu was released from jail – yes, just a few minutes ago. Yes, he’s talking to his wife right now . . . Of course, Ma’am, I’ll pass that on to him. Thank you, Ma’am. Goodbye.” He switched off the phone as Wu completed his call and told the Shar Pei-wolf, “I just finished speaking with Mrs. Ni. She’s asked me to tell you to call her.”
“Thank you,” and he started dialing again as Twyford pulled up, this time speaking Mandarin. His tone of voice was difficult to place and he closed the call as the car pulled away.
“Are you going back to Spontoon?” Twyford asked.
“Mrs. Ni has told me that I still have business to transact,” Wu said, “but I must get cleaned up – and eat – before I make that call.” He gave a short laugh. “I doubt that my hotel will want to take me back.”
“I took the liberty of reserving a room for you at my hotel, Mr. Wu,” Stagg said.
“Thank you!” the canine said in a pleased tone. He sat back, resting an arm on his suitcase and leaning back against the back seat.
Wu was pleased that Ni Xia still had confidence in him to complete the business he had come to America for, but when he asked if she knew who had arranged his arrest, the red panda femme had simply said in Mandarin, “Do not worry. The matter is being taken care of,” and refused to elaborate.
Somehow, he was glad that he didn’t know the details.
***
The place was easy to find, the owner doing a few bits of business here and there with a few concerns down in Mixteca and Piccucapac and willing to accept and hold the package for the slightly overweight red panda. The owner asked no questions about the small box, and the person claiming it didn’t offer any information.
After a long day of driving, Ni Lu stopped at a hotel, not the best but not the worst either, and settled in before opening the package. Surrounded by packing foam were a hard plastic case and a small box.
The case contained a Glock 43, chambered for 9x19mm ammunition and with absolutely no record behind it. It had only a six-round magazine, but he recalled his father and uncle telling him, “If you can’t hit your target in six rounds, you may as well throw the gun at him.” The smaller box held ammunition, and there was a holster that attached to his belt at the small of his back.
He felt better having a firearm ready to paw.
Dialing his phone, he waited two rings, hung up, waited for a long ten seconds, and dialed again. “Hello, Cousin . . . no problems so far, and I’m here . . . you have? Excellent; who? Oh . . . thank you,” and he hung up, his thick-furred, banded tail twitching.
He dialed again. “Hello! Yes, it’s me. Good to hear from you, too . . . no, no, I’m here, in San Francisco . . . oh, no, that won’t be necessary right now, but I may call on you for a little help . . . “
***
As soon as he settled into his room, he had called his wife again. After finishing the call, he had showered.
Twice.
Stagg had chosen a good hotel. His suit and some of his clothes were being cleaned, and lunch was on the way as he dialed Mr. Han’s number. “Hello, Mr. Han.”
The li hua mau gave a startled gasp. “Mr. Wu! Are you – have you been released?”
“Yes, I have. The police have dropped the charges, and I’d like to come speak with you tomorrow after I rest.”
“Of course, of course! I’ve spoken with Ni Jin-tao, and we agree on this business going through.”
He caught himself almost sighing in relief. “I’m very glad you agree. I have to admit I was worried. I’m now at the Sinclair, for obvious reasons.”
“I’ll pick you up myself. Would nine be suitable?”
“Perfectly. “
***
Lunch had been a sandwich, a variation on a banh mi where the meat was very tasty and tender smoked brisket. Stagg savored the taste of it as he relaxed in the restaurant.
His job was done. Wu had been exonerated and released from jail, so the hybrid could book a return ticket to Spontoon. He returned to his room and changed out of his suit to a pair of nondescript brown trousers, a short-sleeved shirt and a light jacket before opening his laptop.
Flying B, the Sea Bear Republic’s national airline, had the first available flight the next day. It was fairly affordable but, the whitetail-cheetah thought, he wasn’t paying for it. He upgraded the ticket to first class, confirmed the reservation, and exited the website.
Well, nothing left to do until his flight left, so perhaps some sightseeing. There had been quite a lot of things he hadn’t seen on his last trip to San Francisco. He scrolled through a few likely places.
Hm, Coit Tower.
Not something he’d try BASE jumping from, but it offered a good view of the city. Bus to here, then there, then up the hill to the base of the tower; it looked good, so Stagg left his room to go to the nearest bus stop. He looked up and noted the weather was holding up.
Two young canines got on the bus with him when it pulled up to its stop and he climbed aboard.
<NEXT>
<PREVIOUS>
<FIRST>
A modern Spontoon Island story
© 2023 by Walter Reimer
Thumbnail art by
rabbi-tomSixteen.
The next day, Stagg sat on his hotel bed cross-legged and dressed only in his fur as he gazed down at the screen of his laptop. Digital images scrolled across the surface as he read through them, aware from the rumbling in his stomach that it was getting on toward lunch.
Jill had certainly come through, and he made a note to go talk to her and thank her when he returned to Spontoon.
His phone rang, and he absently groped for it before accepting the call and bringing it to his ear. “Stagg.”
“Frank, Kent here. I’m on my way to pick you up.”
The hybrid tore his gaze away from the documents on his laptop. “Why?”
“Judge Gore wants us in her chambers ASAP.”
“Right. I’ll meet you in the lobby.” The call ended, and the cheetah-cervine closed his laptop and started moving. Fortunately, he could move fast if he wanted to, and he’d already had a shower. Getting dressed was a simple enough matter.
He stepped out of the hotel as Twyford pulled up. Stagg climbed in beside the buck, and as they pulled away from the curb the hybrid asked, “Good news?”
“I hope.” Kent’s expression was set. “She sounded angry.”
Stagg felt his ears dip. Judge Gore was rather harsh in a good mood, from what he’d seen.
***
The secretary passed them right through her outer office and into the feline’s office. “Judge Gore,” Twyford said as he led Stagg into the room. There were two other furs in the office with the gray tabby; one was Kinney, his ears flat against his head, and the other was a stern-looking red fox tod. “Sorry we’re late.”
“No matter, Mr. Twyford. Sit down. I’m afraid there are no extra seats, Mr. Stagg.” The fox did a small double take at the sight of the cheetah-whitetail, but didn’t say anything.
“I’ll stand, thank you, Your Honor.”
Gore acknowledged this with a nod. “Mr. Twyford, this is Mr. Tainafi, the Spontoonie Consul here in San Francisco.” The two shook paws, and the judge said, “I invited Mr. Tainafi and called you two in here because Mr. Kinney has something to say.” She glowered at the Alsatian.
Kinney cleared his throat. “Er, yes. The detectives contacted me earlier yesterday to inform me that they were unable to find any evidence that Jasper Wu murdered the woman found in his hotel room.” He shifted slightly in his seat. “Therefore the District Attorney will be dropping the remaining charges against Mr. Wu and releasing him immediately.”
Tainafi smiled, his brush flicking slightly.
Twyford’s flag remained still. He gave Kinney a speculative look. “That includes all items of his personal property seized as evidence?”
The Alsatian sighed. “Yes, everything.” He glanced at the judge, who tipped her head toward him, and he said, “I would also extend my personal apology to Mr. Wu and his family for this unpleasant incident.”
“Mr. Twyford?” the judge asked. “Is this acceptable?”
The whitetail buck glanced at Kinney. “Clean record?” The canine nodded, and Twyford said to the judge, “This is acceptable, Your Honor.”
“Mr. Stagg?”
“Yes, Your Honor?”
Gore smiled. “It seems you won’t have a roommate now.”
“Thank you, Your Honor.”
***
Wu stepped out of the jail and stood for a moment, blinking in the sunlight as he put his suitcase down. The Shar Pei-wolf turned as a tod-fox in a business suit walked up and the two began speaking in rapid Spontoonie as they shook paws.
Twyford turned to Stagg. “Job well done, I think,” and he offered a paw.
Stagg took it. “I think so, yes,” he said after they shook paws. “Will Mr. Kinney be in any trouble?”
“Some level of reprimand, possibly,” the older buck said. “The detectives will be in more trouble.” They turned as Tainafi clapped Wu on the shoulder, shook paws with him again, and went back to his waiting car. “Congratulations on your release, Mr. Wu.”
“I have both of you to thank for it, Mr. Twyford,” and he shook paws with both attorneys. “Witnessing-Gods, self-same am relieved-emphasis, also pleased-emphasis, that you-same came to help me,” he said to Stagg in Spontoonie. He reached into a bag containing his cell phone, poked at it, and grimaced. “I want to call my wife.”
“You said that your phone was deactivated,” Stagg said, “so I took the liberty of obtaining one from a pharmacy,” and he fished a burner phone from his suit pocket. He gave the device, much simpler than Wu’s phone, to the canine, who thanked him and started dialing. He connected and for a while the two lawyers stood and listened as the canine wept while speaking to his mate.
Twyford went to get his car while Stagg opened his own phone and dialed. “Good afternoon,” he said. “This is Frank Stagg, calling from America; I’d like to speak with Mrs. Ni Xia, please. Yes, I’ll hold.”
He wasn’t kept waiting long. “Hello, Mrs. Ni. I’d like to report that Mr. Wu was released from jail – yes, just a few minutes ago. Yes, he’s talking to his wife right now . . . Of course, Ma’am, I’ll pass that on to him. Thank you, Ma’am. Goodbye.” He switched off the phone as Wu completed his call and told the Shar Pei-wolf, “I just finished speaking with Mrs. Ni. She’s asked me to tell you to call her.”
“Thank you,” and he started dialing again as Twyford pulled up, this time speaking Mandarin. His tone of voice was difficult to place and he closed the call as the car pulled away.
“Are you going back to Spontoon?” Twyford asked.
“Mrs. Ni has told me that I still have business to transact,” Wu said, “but I must get cleaned up – and eat – before I make that call.” He gave a short laugh. “I doubt that my hotel will want to take me back.”
“I took the liberty of reserving a room for you at my hotel, Mr. Wu,” Stagg said.
“Thank you!” the canine said in a pleased tone. He sat back, resting an arm on his suitcase and leaning back against the back seat.
Wu was pleased that Ni Xia still had confidence in him to complete the business he had come to America for, but when he asked if she knew who had arranged his arrest, the red panda femme had simply said in Mandarin, “Do not worry. The matter is being taken care of,” and refused to elaborate.
Somehow, he was glad that he didn’t know the details.
***
The place was easy to find, the owner doing a few bits of business here and there with a few concerns down in Mixteca and Piccucapac and willing to accept and hold the package for the slightly overweight red panda. The owner asked no questions about the small box, and the person claiming it didn’t offer any information.
After a long day of driving, Ni Lu stopped at a hotel, not the best but not the worst either, and settled in before opening the package. Surrounded by packing foam were a hard plastic case and a small box.
The case contained a Glock 43, chambered for 9x19mm ammunition and with absolutely no record behind it. It had only a six-round magazine, but he recalled his father and uncle telling him, “If you can’t hit your target in six rounds, you may as well throw the gun at him.” The smaller box held ammunition, and there was a holster that attached to his belt at the small of his back.
He felt better having a firearm ready to paw.
Dialing his phone, he waited two rings, hung up, waited for a long ten seconds, and dialed again. “Hello, Cousin . . . no problems so far, and I’m here . . . you have? Excellent; who? Oh . . . thank you,” and he hung up, his thick-furred, banded tail twitching.
He dialed again. “Hello! Yes, it’s me. Good to hear from you, too . . . no, no, I’m here, in San Francisco . . . oh, no, that won’t be necessary right now, but I may call on you for a little help . . . “
***
As soon as he settled into his room, he had called his wife again. After finishing the call, he had showered.
Twice.
Stagg had chosen a good hotel. His suit and some of his clothes were being cleaned, and lunch was on the way as he dialed Mr. Han’s number. “Hello, Mr. Han.”
The li hua mau gave a startled gasp. “Mr. Wu! Are you – have you been released?”
“Yes, I have. The police have dropped the charges, and I’d like to come speak with you tomorrow after I rest.”
“Of course, of course! I’ve spoken with Ni Jin-tao, and we agree on this business going through.”
He caught himself almost sighing in relief. “I’m very glad you agree. I have to admit I was worried. I’m now at the Sinclair, for obvious reasons.”
“I’ll pick you up myself. Would nine be suitable?”
“Perfectly. “
***
Lunch had been a sandwich, a variation on a banh mi where the meat was very tasty and tender smoked brisket. Stagg savored the taste of it as he relaxed in the restaurant.
His job was done. Wu had been exonerated and released from jail, so the hybrid could book a return ticket to Spontoon. He returned to his room and changed out of his suit to a pair of nondescript brown trousers, a short-sleeved shirt and a light jacket before opening his laptop.
Flying B, the Sea Bear Republic’s national airline, had the first available flight the next day. It was fairly affordable but, the whitetail-cheetah thought, he wasn’t paying for it. He upgraded the ticket to first class, confirmed the reservation, and exited the website.
Well, nothing left to do until his flight left, so perhaps some sightseeing. There had been quite a lot of things he hadn’t seen on his last trip to San Francisco. He scrolled through a few likely places.
Hm, Coit Tower.
Not something he’d try BASE jumping from, but it offered a good view of the city. Bus to here, then there, then up the hill to the base of the tower; it looked good, so Stagg left his room to go to the nearest bus stop. He looked up and noted the weather was holding up.
Two young canines got on the bus with him when it pulled up to its stop and he climbed aboard.
<NEXT>
<PREVIOUS>
<FIRST>
Category Story / General Furry Art
Species Canine (Other)
Size 797 x 1280px
File Size 269.7 kB
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