Curds and Whey Box Set

by G M Eppers

  Miss Chiff shook her head. “No, not according to the latest information I have. Most of the time has been spent trying to recover bodies. For now, the official position is gas leak, but we do have reasons to believe, and I’m not at liberty to share them with you, that this fire is the result of a bombing. By the time you arrive, however, more information should be available.”

  “Let’s go,” I said, heading toward the door clutching my carry-on.

  “Helena,” said Miss Chiff discreetly as the members of the team inched around me. She waited until they had passed into the next room, then continued in a low voice. “I want you to know that Ms. Rosensglet came to me with her problem and that it’s been worked out.”

  Dinny Rosensglet is our plane steward. Or at least, that was her job title until recently when she revealed to me privately that she’d gotten a co-pilot’s license five years previously and had been helping to fly the plane ever since, collecting the salary of the four co-pilots listed on our payroll. This is, unfortunately, criminal fraud. But as it turned out, she had not done it for personal profit, but in order to use the extra funds to provide better equipment and food for the plane, and upkeep on the feline residents she cared for there. Understanding that the details meant by ‘worked out’ were not in my Need to Know folder, I said, “Thank you, Ms. Chiff. That’s all I need to know.”

  As I joined the team in the living room, the installers were carrying in a huge 75 inch OLED TV, maneuvering around others carrying out our old 40 inch projection TV. We held back, waiting for the doorway to clear. Badger whimpered, wanting to stay home and play with it. I pulled him toward the door. “Come on, Badger. You can play with it when we get back.”

  “It’s beautiful!” He gasped. “Oh, this is so unfair!” He piled on the drama to lighten the mood. Or at least, I hoped that was his goal. “I wonder if I can piggyback my smart phone –“

  Miss Chiff stood leaning against the kitchen doorway with her arms crossed, watching our aborted progress out of the house. “Don’t worry, Mr. Collins. It’s a Smart 8K UHD OLED TV with a 10 port USB hub, a 6G modem, wireless router and Bluetooth, an 8 speaker surround sound THX system, SIM cards for all your phones, a Blue-Ray Playstation 7 integrated communication and training system, and a box set of Game of Thrones.”

  “What, no 3D?” complained Badger with another whimper.

  I pulled him toward the door again. “Miss Chiff, you are a sadist.”

  “I’m lying about part of it. He can worry about which part all he wants. Wheels up in 46:28.” While we were in a hurry, that was a very generous time period for us to get to the plane. She wiggled her fingers in goodbye and we headed for the Metro. This time, instead of taking the Metro north toward the National Mall, we went south to the airport.

  Chapter Four

  The CURDS plane, a Boeing 837, sat on the tarmac waiting for us, fueled and stocked. Using our CURDS credentials we were fast tracked through airport security, which no doubt had been alerted of our impending arrival and briefed on the circumstances, and we were escorted away from the gate hub to the specialized jet. A motorized stairway was already in place at the door and we climbed up, greeted by Dinny Rosensglet at the door. I deliberately came up last. As the rest of the team proceeded into the locker room, I quietly let Dinny know that I was aware there was an agreement with Miss Chiff, but that I didn’t need to know the details. “Oh, Helena, I’ve felt so badly about the whole thing,” she said echoing my quiet tone. “I do apologize for endangering the team. And the details aren’t bad. I’ve simply been put into the rotation as co-pilot. All four co-pilots were reinstated to active duty and get an extra day off every rotation for the same pay and I’ve agreed to perform steward and co-pilot duties for steward pay. Plus, of course, I have to keep my proverbial nose clean until Hell freezes over or donkeys fly, whichever comes last. Thank you so much for smoothing things with Miss Chiff.”

  “You put four people out of work, Dinny?”

  “Not really. I paid them to stay home. They earned half pay for doing nothing, plus I regularly sent them coolers of meat from Omaha Steaks, in rotation, every month. I think they were kind of upset that the party was over, actually. But it is better this way. I could have gone to jail, and they might have been accomplices. So whatever you need from me, Helena, please, don’t hesitate.”

  “Don’t mention it, Dinny. And I mean that.” I gave her a stern look. If the others got wind of the situation, they might not be as forgiving, even if they didn’t have any disciplinary power over her. “Let me handle it.”

  “Yes, Ma’am!” She saluted me and waved me past her to the locker room so she could signal the ground crew to remove the staircase. I heard the door suction closed behind me and stored my go bag in my locker. Dinny and I entered the body of the plane, where the others were already strapping in. There were only 20 seats, spaced widely apart to allow for easy reclining. One row of ten was next to the windows, and the other snuggled against an internal wall that hid our showers and restrooms. Each row featured a specially designed double seat for the twins. Above the showers was an upper deck where we could hold meetings and relax.

  “Attention everyone, I have an announcement,” I said. They all looked up at me attentively. “I’ve just been informed that, while we were getting our physicals, Dinny was also getting tested. She qualified for her co-pilot’s license and will be taking a turn in the cockpit from time to time.” This was certainly true enough. While we were getting our physicals, Dinny’s mettle got tested as she confessed to upper management about her indiscretion. And she did qualify for her license. It just wasn’t at the same time, and technically I did not say that it was. After spending the previous morning lecturing about honesty and trust, I was really going to have to watch myself.

  There was a spout of congratulations and “well done”s. Sir Haughty unbuckled and came up to shake her hand and tell her how impressed he was. In return, she admired his ascot. There was a tinny ding as the pilot, Kevin (I don’t know his last name), turned on the seatbelt sign. He came on the speaker with the usual welcome, told us what the time and weather was in D.C., then told us what the time would be in Kutna Hora and what the weather was likely to be when we landed. Badger and I both adjusted our watches. The rest apparently preferred to do the math, or weren’t wearing watches. I know all of them HAD watches, but Roxy and the twins, at least, hardly ever wore them.

  As I pushed the various buttons on the side of the dial to change the time, the plane began to taxi. Because of an advanced air pressure system installed on the plane, we could barely hear the engines, and didn’t suffer from ear pops or hard to hear conversation, but I still had to speak loudly to be heard throughout the cabin. “The Czech Republic is six hours ahead of us. That means we will be arriving very early in the morning. We’ll be checking in at the explosion site, and gathering information before we go to the hotel. Dinny, you’ll have reservations ready by the time we get there.” She nodded, then disappeared quickly toward the front of the plane where her takeoff seat was. It was not her turn to co-pilot on this trip. “Rather than stay on the plane, in this case, it seems like a better idea to stay close. Also, I strongly suggest you get some sleep on the plane. You may not be tired yet, but if you want to avoid jet lag try to sleep. It’s going to be a long day when we get there.” The plane turned onto the runway and picked up speed rapidly, and soon we were in the air and climbing.

  As soon as we hit cruising speed, Kevin sounded the removal of the seatbelt restriction and everyone unbuckled. Not long after that, Dinny released the three felines that lived with her on the plane. A large white cat named T.B., short for Toilet Bowl, a calico named Backwash, and a tuxedo named Harelip, who was noticeably smaller than the other two. All three were always giddy to be let loose and careened around the plane for a bit before searching for human companionship. Somewhere there was a loose jingle ball, which I could hear but not see.

  I went to the upper deck to read up on the Czech Republic on
my smart phone. The light was a little better up there and I wanted some solitude. If everyone else decided to come up, I’d go back downstairs, but only Billings came. Backwash escorted him up the stairs, but once he sat at the conference table the cat turned around and went back down. He was probably looking for someone who was getting something to eat. Sorry to disappoint, I thought. “You all right, Billings?” I asked. I didn’t put my phone away, but I tried to express a willingness to listen. The reading could wait if Billings wanted to talk. It was mostly to get me sleepy so I could follow my own advice.

  “I’m not sure,” he said. “I can’t figure out how I’m supposed to feel about Dad now. I mean, I’ve loathed him all this time, and maybe that wasn’t right. It was therapeutic, but that doesn’t make it right.”

  I put away my phone. “Talk to me, sweetie.”

  He looked at the tabletop. When Billings can’t look me in the eye, I know he’s feeling guilty about something. Not only guilty, but not particularly sorry about it, either. Even when he was young, when he broke a lamp playing ball in the house, as all young boys do, he looked me in the eye. The last time he avoided my gaze, I think, was six years ago when he told me he wanted to attend the CURDS academy. I’d never been quite sure I wanted him following in my footsteps and he knew it. It was too dangerous. But after studying the cherry laminate flooring for a while, he found the words to convince me to sign his entrance papers. Since then, he hadn’t had any problem facing me. The academy had given him a self-confidence I never could have. Until now.

  Without looking up, he said, “Remember yesterday morning when you went to meet Dad, and you told me to stay at the house?”

  “Yes.” I tried to catch his eyes with mine, but he wouldn’t let me.

  He took a deep breath and came out with it, finally raising his head toward the end of his confession. “I made a deal with Nitro to go last and followed you. I saw you on the Mall, Mom. I saw you jump into his arms. It looked . . . like you were kissing him.”

  Aha, I thought. I smiled, projecting relaxed acceptance at him. “I jumped into his arms because I saw a spider, Billings. And I wasn’t kissing him. I was hiding my head in shame. It was embarrassing.”

  “So you’re not getting back together?”

  “What?!” My shock at the very idea came as a surprise to both of us. Then I thought about it again. “Do you want us to get back together?” What kid doesn’t want his parents together?

  “That’s just it. I don’t know. Part of me does, and part of me doesn’t.”

  “Welcome to my world,” I said. “I can remember what it was like to be in love with him, Billings. And being near him, well, I don’t want to gross you out, but other parts of me remember what it was like, too. But that’s all that’s left. My heart. My heart would like it. I can’t deny that. But my brain knows it’s not going to happen. He’s not going to change how he feels about Uber. He’s wrapped up in the flag and can’t see that a nation is more than just a piece of cloth. It’s more about the people living in it than some patriotic dream of superiority. Technically speaking, that’s a deal breaker.”

  Now I could see his eyes. They looked just like Butte’s. “So how am I supposed to feel about him?”

  “I can’t tell you how to feel, Billings. He’s your father. I don’t think you should hate him. But I don’t want you, I don’t know, respecting him either. He hasn’t earned it. He might want to talk to you again. Maybe you’ll be able to work it out. Don’t be afraid of him. Just be . . .accessible.”

  “I’m not sure that helps.”

  “I know. But it’s all I’ve got right now. Hey, by the way, kiddo. I talked to Mom about your birthday present. I’m pretty sure the Hula Hoop is out.”

  It took him a minute to process the change of topic. “Oh, okay, thanks.” He suddenly raised his arm and sniffed at his armpit. “Damn. I’d better take a shower while we’re up here. I’ll stink worse than the Chembassy.” He stood up. “Love you, Mom.” He kissed my forehead and went down the stairs. I sat for a time, considering our conversation. It was a very confusing state of affairs.

  It wasn’t long before I got a bit lonely on the upper deck. No one else was coming up. Not even the cats, and I just wasn’t sleepy. So I went downstairs to see what everyone was up to. Sylvia and the twins had obviously also had showers and were reading some in-flight magazines. Their hair was wet and I could smell their shampoos. Sir Haughty had a towel slung over his shoulders and was just heading in. Badger and Billings were absent. Nitro was inventorying his field kit. Roxy was watching the clouds outside the window. Her shoes were actually off and her nylon encased feet were rubbing each other. Harelip was curled up next to Sylvia, a common spot because it was Sylvia who had rescued her. T.B. was taking his constitutional which included walking around my legs as much as possible. “Where’s Backwash?” I asked, bending down to give T.B. a scratch on the top of his head.

  “Haven’t seen him,” said Avis. She craned her neck to look around the body of the plane. “He wasn’t on the upper deck?”

  “Not for very long. He went right back down the stairs. Maybe he’s eating or using the box.” I sat down next to a window and resumed reading about the Czech Republic on my phone. Several minutes went by and still no Backwash. I decided to walk up to the front of the plane and check the steward area, where the cat carriers, litter boxes and food containers were located in a hidden alcove.

  Dinny was scooping and cleaning the area. She looked up from her stooped position when I appeared. “Something wrong, Helena?”

  “Can’t seem to find Backwash. I thought he might be in here.”

  Dinny straightened. “No cats up here. He’s probably just napping in a corner.”

  “Backwash?” Backwash was actually the social butterfly of the group. He flitted about from person to person collecting scritches like pollen. When there were extra people on board, he didn’t sleep unless they did.

  “Well, we’re on a plane. He didn’t jump out,” she said. “He’s here somewhere.”

  I was still concerned. “But it’s not like him to hide. Maybe he’s not feeling well.”

  Dinny, although not entirely sharing my concern, joined in the search, shaking a box of cat treats. Harelip stirred and came, and T.B. practically shoved Harelip out of the way fighting to get to the box of treats, propping his front legs on Dinny’s knee in an effort to reach them first. Dinny poured out a small pile on the floor and let them go at it, as her experienced eye searched the cabin. Seeing no calico cat, she climbed the stairs to the upper deck but came down a few moments later. There weren’t a lot of hiding places up there. Now her face showed some worry. “That’s odd. I don’t see him either.” She went back to where the other two were now licking carpet fibers. “Okay, you guys. What did you do with Backwash?”

  It was then that the door to the showers opened and a cloud of steam emerged. But the door didn’t open all the way. Someone’s bare arm could be seen through the steam, pushing what looked like a soaked roll of brown and gray clothing out the door. The roll of clothing sprouted legs and a head and became Backwash, who was absolutely drenched and humiliated. As soon as Backwash cleared the door, it closed again and the steam dissipated into the air vents. Backwash, trying hard to regain his dignity, took a few steps then shook himself, spraying water droplets as far away as Agnes. Everyone laughed and pretended to be soaked themselves, though it was no more than a sprinkle. Dinny disappeared and came back with a towel in short order. She grabbed up Backwash and began to rub him as dry as she could, against his loud objections. He howled and snapped at the towel and demanded to be set free. Finally, she did put him back on the floor, looking considerably worse for wear as his fur stood up in clumps. He sat down where he landed and proceeded to groom. In less than another minute, it was as if the shower incident had never happened. Backwash resumed his rounds, looking each of us in the face as if to say “you saw nothing. You heard nothing.”

  A few moments later, Badger emer
ged, again letting out a little cloud of steam, wrapped in a towel from the waist down, his skin still damp. Right behind him came Billings, also wrapped in a towel, using another towel to dry his hair vigorously. Badger, clearly still self-conscious about coming out yesterday morning, said, “This isn’t what it looks like.”

  “It looks like you’ve both had a shower,” said Sylvia, not even looking up from her magazine.

  “Okay. Then it IS what it looks like.” He and Billings adjourned to the locker room to get dressed.

  “I think Badger owes us a confession,” suggested Roxy. “Everyone already knew.”

  I flipped through the magazines on one of the empty seats to see if there was anything I felt like reading. “Now, now. It’s not a contest and we’re not keeping score. It was still brave of him to come out to us.” As I scratched Backwash behind the ears, I saw the loose jingle ball wedged between a window seat and the wall. I retrieved it, getting T.B.’s attention, and tossed it to the upper deck. He ran after it, but came back down a minute later without it. It seemed he had stopped its movement and that was all that was required. Way to go.

  By the time Billings and Badger returned, fully dressed, Sir Haughty had also emerged from the shower, fully dressed but with damp hair. Dinny brought out the dinner cart. She served meals on the conference table on the upper deck, which had long benches bolted to the fuselage. Today’s meal was fried chicken with biscuits and wavy cut French fries. Nitro was eating a huge pickle on a stick, sucking the juice with each bite. “It’s a picklesicle!” he said, heading down the stairs. He knew he was welcome to stay and visit, but was really bothered by the things other people ate. It wasn’t like we ate like animals. We all had very good table manners. We had to, or Sir Haughty would have us locked in the Tower of London. But Nitro preferred to eat alone. The cats however, strongly preferred our scraps to his. He did shout up some comments from time to time as we discussed recent activities. Shortly after that, with full bellies, we were all able to grab a few hours of Z’s.