And On That Note
A Spontoon Island story
© 2023 by Walter Reimer
(Various characters are copyright their respective owners.)

Thumbnail art by  TheTiedTigress

Twenty-three.



Everyone in the courtroom turned in their seats as a tall, lanky cougar heaved himself out of his seat and staggered into the aisle. His clothes were disheveled, and the few furs closest to him shied away at the smell coming from him.

“Order!” Bruin snapped, punctuating the word with a loud crack of her gavel. “Who are you?”

“’M th’ stage . . . was th’ stage mannnaggerrrr . . . at th’ Grand,” the cougar slurred. “Got firrred – thanks t’those,” and he flailed one arm at the four defendants.

“Have you been drinking?” the roe-doe asked.

The cougar laughed. “’Course I been drinkin’! I got fired, ya know? Went o’er t’Ssshhhhepherd’s . . . little guy there, Fffausti . . . makes th’ best lemon squishhhh . . . “

“Don’t you mean lemon squash?” the Prosecuting Attorney asked.

The cougar giggled drunkenly. “Nnnnope . . . m’brains feel squished . . . “

“Enough of that,” Bruin said. “What do you know about what happened at the Grand last night?”

“Errathin,’ I know errathin’ ‘bout wha’hoppened. THIS guy,” and he pointed at B’onss, corrected his aim, and pointed again, “won a bunch o’ money. He really, REALLY liked him – her, whatever,” and he waved at Milo, who flinched. “I tried getting’ th’ money back,” and the cougar paused, swaying with his tail moving in counterpoint in an effort to stay upright.

“Is this true, Mr. Gracilis?” Bruin asked Milo.

The spotted skunk nodded. “Yes, Ma’am. I was told that my contract might be broken and I would be blackballed if I didn’t go along with it.” He glanced at B’onss. “Sorry.”

“’COURSE it’s true!” the erstwhile stage manager said. He bleared at Kara and said, “Then SHE gets into it, an’ Spotty there,” and Milo glared at him, “he’s doin’ okay – until SHE shows up,” and he pointed at Winnie. “It woulda worked, too, if it hadn’t been fer that meddlin’ kitten an’ her _______ little dog.” The cougar followed this statement with an expansive sweep of one arm that made him spin around twice in a clumsy attempt at a balletic plie, whereupon he crashed to the floor and started snoring loudly.

Magistrate Bruin gaveled for order and when the crowd had quieted down she said, “Bailiffs, take that . . . gentleman . . . into custody to sleep off whatever he drank. Inspector Stagg?”

Stagg got to his hooves. “Your Honor?”

“That person is charged with disrupting a court proceeding. When he wakes up, I would you like you to question him regarding his statement that he committed extortion.”

“Yes, Your Honor,” the whitetail buck said, sitting back down as the unconscious cougar was dragged out of the courtroom. Stagg began to take notes.

“That reminds me,” Bruin said. “Why are you here, Inspector?”

Stagg stood up again. “May it please the Court, I relieved Sergeant Brush to avoid any possible conflicts of interest.”

The Magistrate considered this before nodding. “Noted. Thank you, Inspector.” The buck resumed his seat and Bruin said, “Go on, Mr. Gracilis.”

Milo finished what he had to say, and with neither the Prosecution nor Defense needing to ask any questions, the spotted skunk was sent back to his seat. “Miss Karoksdottir,” Bruin said, and Kara came forward to be sworn. Following her testimony, her younger brother was next, and Winnie was called last.

After a few moment’s deliberation, the roe-doe said, “The Court will impose a sentence of ten days in jail, but will waive the sentence provided that each defendant pays a fine of fifty shells.” Winnie’s tail bottled out, and she and Milo looked stricken. Kara winced, and B’onss looked bewildered.

“Um, Y-Your Honor?” Milo ventured.

The gavel, poised to descend and adjourn the proceedings, paused. “Yes, Mr. Gracilis?”

“W – Miss Needham and I may have to pool our money to pay the fines.”

Bruin considered this, and nodded at a bailiff. “That can be arranged. Miss Karoksdottir? Mr. Karoksson? Are you two able to pay?”

“Yes, You Honor.”

“Uh, yeah, sure, Ma’am.”

“Good.” The gavel came down. “Court is adjourned.”


***


Their fines paid and their belongings returned to them, the four erstwhile defendants stood blinking in the sunlight outside the jail.

Milo was holding Percy’s leash and fidgeting as the toy poodle tried to alternately bite the spotted skunk’s ankles or gnaw on the cuffs of his trousers while he bore up under the gale of verbal abuse from Winnie.

“You IDIOT!” the clouded leopard mix was shouting at him. “We can’t afford to stay here now, and you’ve probably been fired! What the hell were you THINKING!?”

Kara and B’onss stood nearby, watching, and almost didn’t notice a tall, slim canine wearing a severely tailored black suit approaching them. “Excuse me?” the saluki said in accented English. “Excuse me, Mr. Gracilis?”

Winnie paused in mid-rant to glare at the canine, and the other three also turned to face him. “Yes?” Milo asked warily.

The saluki gave them all a friendly smile. “I’m Taqi Minaljihaz, the manager of the Grand Hotel Spontoon. I’m dreadfully sorry that I was late to your court appearance.”

The spotted skunk’s ears and tail drooped. “I’m fired, then?”

The manager replied, “No, you’re not.” Milo and Winnie both looked surprised. “This was set up by the stage manager. He was at fault for this business, not you. I was on my way here to ask that the charges be dropped – but I see that I’m too late, so I must see to it that I make amends.”

“Amends?” Kara asked.

“What are those?” B’onss asked.

Minaljihaz chuckled and turned to face Milo. “You’re not fired, and we’d like you to fulfil your contract with us.” He moved a few steps away and beckoned the skunk and the feline closer before pitching his voice so that they could hear him. “Did the court fine you?”

“Fifty shells,” Winnie growled, “each.”

The saluki looked troubled for a moment before saying, “The hotel will eat the cost, as they say, and you’ll both be reimbursed.” He glanced over his shoulder as Winnie suddenly stumbled against Milo as Percy’s leash wound around their ankles. “I cannot do the same for them, you understand,” and he winked at Milo as he walked away from them and approached B’onss and Kara.

Kara asked, “What sort of amends are we talking about?”

“I’m dreadfully sorry about the misunderstanding,” Minaljihaz said, “and I hope that you will please accept my deepest apologies. In fact,” and he reached into his suit jacket, “please accept these passes for Michelle’s next show.”

The vixen took the two cards and asked, “He’s not fired?”

The saluki shook his head. “He wasn’t at fault.”

“I ain’t sure . . . “ B’onss started. “Eh, what th’ heck.”

“Good. Again, we’re very sorry this happened,” and after shaking paws with all four Minaljihaz walked away, leaving the two foxes standing there looking at the feline and the skunk.

Milo succeeded in untangling himself from Percy’s leash and walked over to B’onss and Kara. “Um, I’m sorry,” he said, and he extended a paw to the tod-fox. “No hard feelings, okay?”

B’onss looked at the paw, then at his sister. He sighed and took the paw. “Yeah, I guess.”

"Word of advice, though," Milo said.

"Yeah?"

"Next time you see a girl you like, look here." He pointed at his throat.

"What? All I see is a bump."

Milo smiled. "Adam's Apple. Only mels have one."

B'onss touched his own throat and he looked at Milo. The spotted skunk tapped the side of his muzzle. "Huh. Yeah, I'll remember," the fox said.

“Well, it’s been a long night,” Kara said. “Come on, B’onss, let’s get you home,” and the two siblings headed for the water taxis.

Milo turned to face Winnie and suddenly looked down at his feet.

“Really, Percy?”


***


Francis Xavier Brush sat in his favorite chair beside the door to the family longhouse, reading through the newspaper. He looked up and smiled as he saw his daughter and one of his younger sons coming up the path from the road. “Good to see you two,” their father said.

“Hi, Pa,” B’onss said.

“Hello, Father,” Kara said. “It’s been a long night.”

“So your brother said.”

The younger foxes stopped dead in their tracks.

Kara gulped. “Orrin . . . told you?”

The elder Brush nodded. “And your mother.” He nodded at the door. “Go on inside.”

With drooping ears and tails, the two siblings went into the house.

The instant the front door closed there were the sound of paws slapping ears, accompanied by loud imprecations in Spontoonie, assorted yowls, and at least one anguished “W-w-w-whutIdoooooo!?” This was followed by more sounds of paws striking flesh, followed by silence.

The older tod-fox folded up the paper, stuck it under his arm, and went inside.

His wife had placed two chalked circles in opposite corners of the main room. Kara was in front of one, her nose pressed against the center of the circle with her ears flat against her head and her tail between her legs. Her little brother’s crying had subsided into occasional hiccoughs and sniffling, but he was keeping his nose firmly against the wall.

“Mate-precious-mine,” Brush said to his wife, “perceive-self that punishment-emphasis you meted out have?”

The vixen nodded serenely. “Witnessing-Gods, mate-precious-mine, children learn-emphasis lesson-valuable, about wandering eyes and games-chance-outlanders.” She nodded in the direction of the kitchen. “Must-emphasis attend to cooking-hearth, where durian cooks, these two eat-emphasis until next-day’s sun-rising.”

Both B’onss and Kara suppressed whines.


***


“Nice room, Winnie,” Milo said as he looked around the place his girlfriend had reserved before she’d left Tilikumport. “Lot better than mine.”

Winnie smiled as she petted Percy. “Yeah, it doesn’t look that bad. The Seabreeze takes pets, which is a plus. I couldn’t find a kennel at home that would look after Percy,” and she made kissing faces at the toy poodle, who yapped and wagged his tail.

“Are, um, are you still mad at me?” the spotted skunk said.

“Perfectly furious,” the Anglo-Burmese feline said.

Milo looked down at his feet. “Oh.”

“When is your next performance?”

“Tomorrow night,” he replied. “Big post-race show.”

Winnie stood and put her arms over his shoulders. “There’s a song I want you to sing.”

“Oh? That – “

“Yes, that one.”

Milo smiled and kissed her. “I love you, Winifred.”

“I love you too, Milo, you silly boy.” She kissed him. “Just one thing, though.”

“Oh?”

“I find you with another femme again, and I’ll shave your tail as naked as a rat’s.” She smiled sweetly at him. “Understand me?”

Milo smiled, just a little uncertainly. “Clearly.”




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