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  turnbolt

8.


Willow:

I almost caught Sophia smiling as we fished Reggie out of the lagoon, but our Hungarian housekeeper swiftly regained her stolid demeanor as she very sure-hoofedly made her way onto the dock, carrying Tommy in her arms. I had few worries for her, I’ll admit. Anyone who can manage an Imperial Court in exile would be very steady on her hooves as a rule.

We were met further up the dock by a group of Spontoonies who offered us the traditional flower garlands to greet us. I nibbled on one of the hibiscus blossoms, very tasty.

Despite the fact that Speed Week was over for another year, I noted that there didn’t seem to be a lot of tourists leaving the islands just yet. Based on the newspapers I’d read on the trip here, conditions in Europe and America might have the visitors thinking of spending just a few more days having fun in the sun.

Of course, I’m sure the Spontoonies were thrilled to have more tourist money coming in.

Reggie was still toweling off, the towel provided by a member of the welcoming committee who had doubtless seen it all before, by the time we were ushered forward to be cleared by Customs. The officious-looking otter accepted my buck’s passport.

And did a double-take.

“Reggie Buckhorn?”

“Hm?” Reggie lowered the towel. “Er, yes, that’s me.”

“THE Reggie Buckhorn?”

Off to the right, I glimpsed a tail whisking around a door as it closed, and I sighed.

(“His reputation precedes him.”)

(“Lead-pipe cinch, Grace.”)

“The one and only,” Reggie said. “Nature made me, and then broke the mold, as they say. I think they say it mainly to cheer up the Sire, but I’ve gotten better since my marriage.” He smiled at me, and the scene turned slightly pink.

The otter gulped. “I’m new to the job, but everyone’s heard of you.”

Reggie beamed. “It’s nice to be remembered. Isn’t it, Willow?”

“Depends on what you’re being remembered for, dear.”

“Oh yes, rather. The Kaiser’s remembered, and for a whole catalogue of bad reasons.” He glanced at the Customs officer. “Do I get in, or not?”

“Huh? Oh! Oh, um, sorry, Mr. Buckhorn,” and he stamped Reggie’s passport. His paw shook only a bit, which smeared the ink slightly, and he quickly made his way through the rest of our party. I could see him mopping his brow as we went to collect our luggage.

We all made it onto the water taxis without any incidents, and I held Reggie’s paw the whole way from Eastern Island to Casino. Paul and Toni seemed to be enjoying themselves.

Allan and Vee were enjoying themselves as only the head of Minkerton’s and a former agent of the same could do, by having their heads on swivels and trying to look everywhere at once for anything out of the ordinary. I looked around a few times myself, and all I saw were pleasure boats, water taxis, and the big liners that were still loitering around in the lagoon.

We had landed pretty late in the afternoon, and the sun was getting close to the horizon as all of us and our bags arrived at Shepherd’s Hotel.

The former member of one of Britain’s Guards regiments was still manning his post behind the front desk, and I swear his mustache bristled when he shouted, “MISTAH BUCKHORN, SAH! H’IT IS GOOD TO SEE YOU AGAIN, SAH!”

Reggie’s ears had gone straight down. “Um . . . hello?”


***


Allan:

I knew, largely from Willow, that Reggie had cut a huge swath through the Spontoons while he was here. What I hadn’t thought of was that he’d still be recalled over a year on, and since Spontoon’s largely a Polynesian culture, I imagine there are songs about his escapades. Of course, his marriage, fatherhood and his position in the family firm had sobered him (literally, as well as figuratively).

To his credit, though, Mr. Buckhorn rallied and signed the register before collecting his wife, child and household and following the bellhops with their luggage. Vee made a note of where they were staying as I signed us in, whereupon I gave the pen over to Paul so he could take care of himself and Toni.

Nice rooms, well laid out. I made a note to thank Reggie for the reservation.

Vee was hanging things up in the closet when she suddenly asked, “Are you going to take a nap?”

I was stretched out on the bed. “I might. Why?”

She gave me a look and began ticking off points on her fingers. “One, chances are excellent that we will be invited to dinner. Two, you will probably have a great deal to talk about with Franklin. Three, I want to take a nap as well. Four, take your shoes off.”

I smiled at her and scootched over to give her some space on the bed before removing my shoes and dropping them on the floor.


***


Toni:

“Luchow’s, Rosie speaking.”

“Hiya, Spots!”

My ears and tail twitched as my old girlfriend (that’s a friend who’s a girl, not necessarily a girlfriend, youse pervs) squeed in my ear. “Toni!” Rosie said. “Great to hear from you!”

“You too, keed. I hear you caught your buck.”

“Oh yeah,” she sighed. “I sent you a wire.”

“I got it.”

“So?”

“So what?” I asked, grinning at Pete.

“So are you coming to the wedding or not?”

I laughed. “Hun, Pete an’ me are at Shepherd’s, an’ we’re inviting you and him to dinner tonight.”

“Wow. At l’Etoile d’Argent?”

“Yup. That way you don’t have to cook nothing. You game?”

“I’d be meshuga not to be. Seven o’clock okeh with you?”

I looked away from the phone and mouthed ‘Seven?” at Pete, who nodded. “Seven it is.”

“Catch you then. Later, Toni.”

“See ya, Rosie.”


***


Willow:

“Spontoon Constabulary.”

“Detective Bureau, please.” I was amazed at how steady my voice was.

“One moment.”

“Detective Bureau.”

“Inspector Stagg, please.”

“May I ask who’s calling?”

I hesitated, but only for a moment. After all, I didn’t know the woman. “Willow Buckhorn.”

“Of course. One moment.”

The moment took a few hours, but finally I heard, “Hello, Grace.”

(“You’re up.”)

“Hello, Da.”

I could almost hear his smile. “It’s good to hear from you. Are you and Reggie here yet?”

“Yes, Da. We’re at Shepherd’s.”

“Hm, as ever. And . . . my grandfawn?”

“He’s here too, Da. I’d like to invite you and Rosalie to dinner, here at the hotel restaurant.”

“We’ll be there. What time?”

“Seven o’clock.”

There was a pause. “That should give us both time to get ready. I can’t wait to see you again, Grace, although I see you’re still using the name Allan gave you.”

I nodded, even though I knew he couldn’t see me. “Under the circumstances, it’s still a wise course.”

“Indeed. Seven, then. I love you.”

“I love you, Da.” The line went silent, and Grace gracefully ceded the field to me as Reggie came in from looking in on little Tommy.

“Everything all right, Willow?”

I gave him a thousand-watt smile. “Everything’s perfect, Reggie. I’ve invited Da and Rosie to dinner at l’Etoile at seven.”

“Righto! Tommy coming with?”

“Of course. His grandfather,” and my voice almost caught at the word, “wants to see him.” My buck’s ears dipped and I asked, “What’s wrong, Reggie?”

“Dinner? At l’Etoile?”

I nodded.

Reggie eyed the bed. “I’m going to need a lie-down while I think of what to say to your father, not to mention what Andre d’Arbres will say when he spies me.”

I gave him a smooch and a hug. “My love, you’ll know what to say to Da,” I soothed, stroking his headfur, “and if that treerat starts acting up, you leave him to me.”

I felt him hug me a little tighter. “Why hasn’t the League of Nations hired you, Willow? The way you handle things, you’d make short work of those troublemakers across the Channel.”

“Simple, darling. You caught me first.”





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