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Story: Tzimmes Crack Corn (and I Don't Care), #39 (END)
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
Fluffball
Epilogue.
Willow:
It had taken three days for us to get back to the United States, with the Zephyr landing at Long Beach. The flight from Spontoon to Hawaii, and the eastward leg to Califurnia, had been very smooth and very enjoyable. Everyone was relaxing and looking forward to getting home.
Pierre had bought a shirt while on Spontoon that was louder than one of Sergeant Brush’s neckties, and we all got a good laugh when he modeled it for us. There were some native mottoes on it, which had me thinking that , from the Spontoonies’ point of view, the joke might be entirely on him.
Not that Pierre seemed to care much. Toni told me in confidence that both Pierre and his brother don’t care a fig about what the rest of the upper crust in Delahare may think of them. Which is probably a reason that Paul, Leslie’s dad, and his wife went off to live in the south of France.
Although, judging from the news, they might have to consider moving again.
The FRB train was diverted south, through Santa Fe rather than Denver, because of a railroad workers’ strike in Colorado. It appeared that President Long was growing increasingly unpopular, something that Grace and I heartily approved off. Allan was getting a steady flow of telegrams from his son in Washington; almost as steady as the flow of dispatch boxes that Lord Josslyn was raining down on Reggie’s antlers.
Still, Reggie was in fine fettle, his deal with Tillamook for part of their kelp crop being approved by the company lawyers as well as the legal lights up in Tse-Whit-Sen. His father had already sent him a telegram, sort of congratulating him.
Me? My father had found love, looked better than he had in years, and he’d met me again and held his grandfawn in his paws; he’d married a good friend, who was preggers. So, how was I doing?
I was very happy.
When the consist crossed the Mississippi, though, I started feeling a little uneasy. I couldn’t put my paw on it, but when had I felt . . .
Oh.
My.
We still had to drop the Minkertons and the du Cledses off at Fillydelphia, get to Gnu York, and board Aeolus for the flight to London. Once we got back to our home in Mayfair, I’d set up an appointment with my doctor. Once I knew, one way or another, I’d tell Reggie.
But I caught myself wondering if it would be a girl this time.
***
Rosie:
The Seven Springs was just as nice as I remembered it.
Although everything had been paid for, Franneleh and I agreed that we wouldn’t abuse Richard and Natalya Broome’s generosity. We spent a lot of time at the hotel, mostly taking relaxing soaks in this one small hot spring near our room.
Yes, there was some snuggling, you nosey people you.
On the flight to Tillamook, we had also discussed and agreed that we’d have dinner at the Triton Café on our last night, before flying home. We were both looking forward to having berries and cream for dessert. Maybe some dancing, but that was up to Franneleh.
My dear buck was settling into a chair after dinner, and I walked over to the radio. “Do you want to listen to some music?” I asked.
He smiled. “Please, Rosie.” I switched the box on, waited for it to warm up, and fiddled with the tuning knob until I got a station playing soft dance music.
Perfect.
I put some swish into my hips and tail, in time to the music, and enjoyed Franneleh’s warm and approving smile before I settled my tuchis to the floor in front of him and began giving him a hoofrub.
When I finished his second hoof he smiled down at me. “Bed?” he asked.
I nodded and got to my feet before helping him to his hooves. Franklin started heading into the bedroom while I walked over to the radio. Some tune called The Northern Lights are in Your Eyes was wrapping up, and as I reached for the knob there was a three-note chime.
“The Tillamook Telecast Bureau wishes to – “ I switched radio off and walked to the bedroom.
***
May 29, 1939:
Father Merino:
When the day finally came, Inspector Stagg asked me to meet him at the hospital, to sit with him and to pray with him while Mrs. Stagg was in the delivery room. Sergeant Brush, as always, was there with him. Rosie had two of her employees, Miss Knox and Mr. Lopanearov, sitting on the other side of the waiting room.
Heads looked up, ears swiveling, as Dr. Meffit came in. “Inspector?”
Inspector Stagg swallowed. Hard. “Yes, Doctor,” he said in a very dry tone, almost like he was expecting bad news.
The skunk smiled. “Congratulations, Inspector. It’s twins, a buck and a doe.”
The Inspector closed his eyes tightly, his lips moving silently before he asked, “And – and - ?”
“She’s absolutely fine, Inspector. She’s asking for you.”
The tod, the vixen and the rabbit were on their feet and crossing the floor to congratulate him, but held back for a moment as the Inspector crossed himself, and I murmured a blessing in Latin for him and his growing family. He wiped his eyes and blew his nose with his pawkerchief before getting to his hooves to accept congratulations and follow Dr. Meffit to see his wife and fawns.
***
30MAY19390850 MSGSTART FROM FRANKLIN STAGG C/O LUCHOWS SPONTOON ISLAND INDEPENDENCIES TO REGGIE AND WILLOW BUCKHORN 31 GROSVENOR STREET MAYFAIR LONDON UK WELCOME TO THE WORLD FRANKLIN AURELIO AND ANTOINETTE TAUBA STAGG-BAUMGARTNER STOP TWINS STOP MOTHER AND FATHER DOING FINE STOP LETTER TO FOLLOW STOP LOVE YOU STOP MSGENDS
The end.
<PREVIOUS>
<FIRST>
A Spontoon Island story
© 2022 Walter Reimer
(Characters courtesy of M. Mitch Marmel, J.T. Urie and E.O. Costello. Thanks!)
Thumbnail art by
FluffballEpilogue.
Willow:
It had taken three days for us to get back to the United States, with the Zephyr landing at Long Beach. The flight from Spontoon to Hawaii, and the eastward leg to Califurnia, had been very smooth and very enjoyable. Everyone was relaxing and looking forward to getting home.
Pierre had bought a shirt while on Spontoon that was louder than one of Sergeant Brush’s neckties, and we all got a good laugh when he modeled it for us. There were some native mottoes on it, which had me thinking that , from the Spontoonies’ point of view, the joke might be entirely on him.
Not that Pierre seemed to care much. Toni told me in confidence that both Pierre and his brother don’t care a fig about what the rest of the upper crust in Delahare may think of them. Which is probably a reason that Paul, Leslie’s dad, and his wife went off to live in the south of France.
Although, judging from the news, they might have to consider moving again.
The FRB train was diverted south, through Santa Fe rather than Denver, because of a railroad workers’ strike in Colorado. It appeared that President Long was growing increasingly unpopular, something that Grace and I heartily approved off. Allan was getting a steady flow of telegrams from his son in Washington; almost as steady as the flow of dispatch boxes that Lord Josslyn was raining down on Reggie’s antlers.
Still, Reggie was in fine fettle, his deal with Tillamook for part of their kelp crop being approved by the company lawyers as well as the legal lights up in Tse-Whit-Sen. His father had already sent him a telegram, sort of congratulating him.
Me? My father had found love, looked better than he had in years, and he’d met me again and held his grandfawn in his paws; he’d married a good friend, who was preggers. So, how was I doing?
I was very happy.
When the consist crossed the Mississippi, though, I started feeling a little uneasy. I couldn’t put my paw on it, but when had I felt . . .
Oh.
My.
We still had to drop the Minkertons and the du Cledses off at Fillydelphia, get to Gnu York, and board Aeolus for the flight to London. Once we got back to our home in Mayfair, I’d set up an appointment with my doctor. Once I knew, one way or another, I’d tell Reggie.
But I caught myself wondering if it would be a girl this time.
***
Rosie:
The Seven Springs was just as nice as I remembered it.
Although everything had been paid for, Franneleh and I agreed that we wouldn’t abuse Richard and Natalya Broome’s generosity. We spent a lot of time at the hotel, mostly taking relaxing soaks in this one small hot spring near our room.
Yes, there was some snuggling, you nosey people you.
On the flight to Tillamook, we had also discussed and agreed that we’d have dinner at the Triton Café on our last night, before flying home. We were both looking forward to having berries and cream for dessert. Maybe some dancing, but that was up to Franneleh.
My dear buck was settling into a chair after dinner, and I walked over to the radio. “Do you want to listen to some music?” I asked.
He smiled. “Please, Rosie.” I switched the box on, waited for it to warm up, and fiddled with the tuning knob until I got a station playing soft dance music.
Perfect.
I put some swish into my hips and tail, in time to the music, and enjoyed Franneleh’s warm and approving smile before I settled my tuchis to the floor in front of him and began giving him a hoofrub.
When I finished his second hoof he smiled down at me. “Bed?” he asked.
I nodded and got to my feet before helping him to his hooves. Franklin started heading into the bedroom while I walked over to the radio. Some tune called The Northern Lights are in Your Eyes was wrapping up, and as I reached for the knob there was a three-note chime.
“The Tillamook Telecast Bureau wishes to – “ I switched radio off and walked to the bedroom.
***
May 29, 1939:
Father Merino:
When the day finally came, Inspector Stagg asked me to meet him at the hospital, to sit with him and to pray with him while Mrs. Stagg was in the delivery room. Sergeant Brush, as always, was there with him. Rosie had two of her employees, Miss Knox and Mr. Lopanearov, sitting on the other side of the waiting room.
Heads looked up, ears swiveling, as Dr. Meffit came in. “Inspector?”
Inspector Stagg swallowed. Hard. “Yes, Doctor,” he said in a very dry tone, almost like he was expecting bad news.
The skunk smiled. “Congratulations, Inspector. It’s twins, a buck and a doe.”
The Inspector closed his eyes tightly, his lips moving silently before he asked, “And – and - ?”
“She’s absolutely fine, Inspector. She’s asking for you.”
The tod, the vixen and the rabbit were on their feet and crossing the floor to congratulate him, but held back for a moment as the Inspector crossed himself, and I murmured a blessing in Latin for him and his growing family. He wiped his eyes and blew his nose with his pawkerchief before getting to his hooves to accept congratulations and follow Dr. Meffit to see his wife and fawns.
***
30MAY19390850 MSGSTART FROM FRANKLIN STAGG C/O LUCHOWS SPONTOON ISLAND INDEPENDENCIES TO REGGIE AND WILLOW BUCKHORN 31 GROSVENOR STREET MAYFAIR LONDON UK WELCOME TO THE WORLD FRANKLIN AURELIO AND ANTOINETTE TAUBA STAGG-BAUMGARTNER STOP TWINS STOP MOTHER AND FATHER DOING FINE STOP LETTER TO FOLLOW STOP LOVE YOU STOP MSGENDS
The end.
<PREVIOUS>
<FIRST>
Category Story / General Furry Art
Species Cheetah
Size 500 x 659px
File Size 77.4 kB
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