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


24.


September 26, 1938

Reggie:

With Sergeant Brush giving me his somewhat reluctant permission, I decided that a good venue for the bachelor party would be Shepherd’s. I would simply have a word with the manager to arrange a room near the Long Bar (l’Etoile has two or three) or, if worst came to worst, we could hold the party on the veranda overlooking the lagoon. So it was with a light heart that I left the Constabulary and shifted ho for the water taxis . . .

Wait a tick, Reggie old buck.

I realized that my reputation would have preceded me, and I would have to have a plan of attack. One worthy of Clawsewitz, because I would have to know who to talk to, and what to offer him as an inducement to get him to see things my way.

The trip to Casino Island from Meeting isn’t very far, but I put the old brain-pan to good use, and I thought that I had at least the outlines of a plan.

A few words with the concierge at Shepherd’s eventually succeeded in giving me an audience with the manager of the hotel, one Daniel Lupino. During my last sojourn in the Spontoons, I had only dealt with him through intermediaries, so this would be the first time we’d met face to face. Ex officio, he’s also the manager of the restaurant and the bar, and the wolf ushered me into his office with a slightly wary expression.

The lupine gestured for me to sit as he went round to his side of his desk. “Mr. Masipau said that you wanted to see me, Mr. Buckhorn? Something about a party?”

Best professional mien, Reggie my lad.

“Yes. Are you aware of the impending marriage of Inspector Stagg to one Miss Rosie Baumgartner?”

“Yes, I am.”

“I would have been surprised if you hadn’t. It’s been in all the papers.” I sit back a bit. “I would like to speak with you about a venue for a bachelor party for the Inspector.”

Both of the wolf’s ears go straight up. “Um – “

I raise a paw. Time to muffle this fellow’s guns, to use a metaphor. “Please, Mr. Lupino. I am fully aware – in some cases, painfully aware – of my reputation here. However, a combination of matrimony and fatherhood has quite effectively, as well as literally, sobered me. I’d rather not risk Inspector Stagg’s, or my wife’s, disapproval if anything went wrong.”

Lupino looked surprised. “Trust me, Mr. Buckhorn, I know about how fatherhood and marriage can mature a fur.” He smiled. “Please tell me what you have in mind.”

“I expect that this will be a small affair, just a few furs, a dozen at most,” I said, “so I was thinking that one of the side rooms at the Long Bar might be enough. All drinks will be on my account – along with any damage,” I added with a smile.

I mean, come on. The Inspector was a very mature and sober fellow, and I expected that the entire affair would be rather quiet, with all participants off to bed before midnight.

Lupino considered my terms, and readily agreed. We even wrote it down and signed our names to it.


***


Toni:

So a day or two ago I breezed on in, and I hear a voice behind the bar say, “Welcome to the Double Lotus! Be with you in a moment.”

I grin and cop a squat on a stool. “Hi, Brenda.”

There’s a thump and a yelp, and the golden Labrador comes up, rubbing the back of her head. “Toni!? Ohmigawd, girl! How are you? When did you get in? Covina!” she yelled toward the backroom.

“What?” came the Malinois’ voice.

“Get out here! Toni’s here!” Bren turned back to me before literally climbing over the bar so we could exchange hugs. While we were doing that, Covina came out and made it a threesome.

Now, none of that. Dirty minds.

When we stopped hugging, Bren puts an arm around Covina’s waist and asks, “What are you doing here? We thought you got married.”

“Perfectly true,” and I flash the rock at them. “I’m here for Rosie’s wedding. Well, I’m in the Spontoons for the wedding; I’m here to see if I can have the bachelorette party here.”

“Yes!” Covina said, her tail wagging fit to beat the band. “Can we hold it here, Bren, huh?”

“I’ll have to get in touch with the ownership, Toni, you know that,” the Labrador said, and I nodded. “What time you thinking?”

“This Friday, starting up about eight?”

“Should be fine. Jackie’s got a new trick – what?” she asks when she sees me shaking my head.

“Nothing like that,” I tell her. “This is going to be a nice quiet party. Rosie will be just coming off work after all, so we’ll have drinks and food. Some music, too. Is Lisa still here?” Lisa Fallingwater, drop-dead gorgeous vixen, is Rain Island’s ambassador over here. She plays a mean jazz clarinet.

Covina giggles. “She told everyone that the only way Seathl will get her off the Spontoons is in a box.”

“Perfect.”


***


Rosie:

“Where are you going, Rosie?” Vicky asked me when she saw me taking off my apron. It was just a little after the lunch crowd petered out, so I was carping the old diem. This tourist season had been a good one, and I was confidently looking forward to seeing more black ink in the ledgers.

I gave the vixen a smile. “I’m going to go pay a call on Mrs. Steinmink. A little wedding business.”

“Gotcha.” And off I went.

Rodent Shalom is almost hidden from view on Meeting Island, sandwiched between the larger churches, but it’s kept neat as a pin, and you can see the carved Magen David on the gable from the street. The Steinminks don’t live over the shop, but right beside it. So I went around the sanctuary and rang the doorbell.

“Rosalie!” The minkess and I exchanged hugs. Esther gave me a kiss on both cheeks and looked me up and down. “You’re looking wonderful, my dear. Would you like nice cup tea?”

“Please,” and I very carefully wiped my feet. Mrs. Steinmink keeps the Temple and her own house absolutely clean, and after touching the mezuzah at the door we went into the kitchen.

“So what brings you around, my dear?” she asked as she put the kettle on. “Jacob is looking forward to marrying you and Inspector Stagg. He’s over at Saint Anthony’s right now.” She gave me the eye. “You’re looking very well. How are you feeling?”

I patted my belly. Naturally, I wasn’t showing yet. “Very well, Esther. No whoopsies yet, although that might happen, no schmutter. In fact, I wanted to talk to you.”

The kettle started singing, so she got up, smoothing her taffeta dress, and prepared two cups of tea. After placing a small plate of almond cookies on the table she gave me a cup. She added a spoonful of sugar to her own cup and stirred. “Nu?”

“I know you were able to scare up a minyan for the Meffits’ wedding.” I took a sip after nibbling a cookie. “Any luck this time, do you think?”

The minkess sat drinking her tea for a moment before she said, “Eat up, bubbeleh. My finding enough landsmen to do the service for the Meffits was pure luck, and there’ve been no New South Zion crews showing up lately – but,” and Esther got a twinkle in her eyes, “I’m keeping a sharp lookout, and never mind how, so if it’s the Lord’s will it can be arranged.”

I smiled, just a little disappointed. “Thanks so much, Esther.”

She reached across the table and patted my paw. “It’s a mitzvah, my dear. The cantor will be there, though. Oh, such a voice he has.” I readily agreed; he has a great baritone, and makes the prayers almost like songs.

After another cup of tea, some small talk, and it was a very happy cheetah that headed back to Luchow’s.


***


Willow:

While Reggie was out, I got a phone call from Toni du Cleds. The tigress was spreading the word about Rosie’s bachelorette party, and of course I promised I’d be there.

If only to keep the fun clean. Memories of Inocenta du Cleds’ bachelorette party are still seared into my memory. I did have to wonder if they got the yacht refloated.

And cleaned.

Of course, my own prenuptial occasion was far from trouble-free. Well, Da knew who I was now, so there’d be no nocturnal breaking and entering in an effort to procure attar of roses, and no facing some lunatic duck at court.

Despite Toni’s assurances, I’ve been to the Double Lotus, and hoped that the tigress would be able to keep the party from going mobile.

(“Just one more week to see Da and Rosalie married”), Grace put in. (“Thank God.”)

“Yeah,” I said.

I stretched out in my chair and smiled contentedly, and I was still there when Reggie came in. “Hello, dearest,” and he kissed me on the cheek before taking off his suit jacket and sitting down. “I’d almost forgotten how hot it can get here,” he said as he fanned himself, and gratefully accepted a cold glass of lemonade from Lodge. “You look so peaceful sitting there. Did the New Haven Embassy fall into the sea?”

I laughed as Lodge served me a glass of lemonade, and thanked him before I replied, “I imagine I’d have to talk to someone from Cranium Island for that little trick. No, I’m just happy that Da and Rosie are getting married.”

“Cheers to that.” Reggie raised his glass in a toast, and I clinked mine against his before we drank. “I’ve got the bachelor party arranged.”

“Oh?”

“Here at the Long Bar, private party. I expect it’ll be a quiet affair.”



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