The Madhatter's Guide To Chocolate

by Rhett DeVane

  Piddie and I were back in the stateroom resting before dinner when a sharp rap sounded on the door. “Mrs. Piddie Longman?” The uniformed attendant asked when I opened the door.

  “That’s me back here!” Piddie called. She shuffled slowly to the door, holding on to one wall for support.

  “Mrs. Longman.” He smiled. “May I personally express our gratitude for your act of heroism.” He handed her a white envelope embossed in gold with the Queen Line logo. “The Captain asked me to deliver this invitation to you and your party.”

  He waited silently as Piddie tore into the elegant envelope. “It’s an invitation to dine at the captain’s table tonight!” she called out. “You go tell Mr. Captain that we’d all be downright thrilled to eat with him. I’ll round everybody up. You can count on that!”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Longman. I will inform him of your acceptance.” He clapped his well-manicured hands together.

  A second young man carrying a bouquet of a dozen long-stemmed yellow roses entered the stateroom. “From the staff of the Regal Queen.” He set the bouquet on a small side table.

  “If there is anything you require at all during your stay with us, please feel free to call upon me.” He handed my aunt a calling card. “I will personally make it so.” He left in a flash of starched white.

  “Well! Now isn’t that a fine how-de-do? Can you call the family? I gotta get started on my hair.”

  After phoning the other staterooms to announce our date for the evening, I stretched out on the bed and fell into an exhausted sleep listening to Aunt Piddie humming in the bathroom as she coaxed her hair to new heights.

  “Pid, you’ve pulled out all the stops for tonight’s dinner,” I said, studying her festive outfit.

  As if she’d foreseen her part in Dr. Paul Wong’s mishap, Piddie had packed an outfit with Chinese flair for the semiformal dress night. Evelyn’s design, the red silk pantsuit sported a mandarin collar and six black-knotted satin buttons. Gold sneakers completed the ensemble. The crowning touch was Piddie’s hair. It was a towering monument to hair fixative products. Tonight’s ’do stood at least a foot and a half above her head—mounds of three-inch curls layered like cooked pasta. Miniature folding fans with dangling gold tassels were interspersed between the curls. Her new moose-dropping earrings complemented the look. Spots of dark rouge matched her lip and nail color. Compared to Piddie, my emerald green silk jumpsuit looked plain and understated.

  “Piddie, you’re a feast for sore eyes!” Jake said when we met him and Holston in the hall. “Leigh and Bobby will be along shortly. She’s having a bad hair attack, and he’s doing his level best to help her style.”

  I snickered. “Bobby? A hairdresser? There’s a stretch for you. Amazing what impending fatherhood will do for a man.”

  “Where’re Joe and Evelyn?” Piddie asked.

  Holston answered. “Joe wanted to drop by the ship’s library before it closed for the day. They’ll meet us in the restaurant.”

  “Wait on me a minute.” I ducked back into the stateroom to replace my earrings with the moose-poop gold dangles.

  The Court Restaurant was abuzz with activity. The maitre d’ led us to a section in a different area from our assigned seating. Captain Raella stood when we arrived at his table. Although we had seen him from a distance on the second night’s cocktail party when the crew and staff had been presented, I hadn’t noticed how handsome the Captain was. His thick salt-and-pepper hair curled around his face, framing smiling dark brown eyes.

  “Ah! Mrs. Piddie Longman.” He tipped his head, then leaned to kiss the back of Piddie’s extended hand. Holston, Jake, and I introduced ourselves.

  “But…where is the remainder of your party?”

  “They’ll be along soon,” Piddie answered. “You’d think it’d be easy keepin’ everyone hemmed up together, but we’re spread out all over this boat! We spend most of our time ramblin’ around lookin’ for each other.”

  Evelyn and Joe approached the table. “I’m sorry we’re a bit late,” Evelyn said. “Joe got caught up at the library. I just can’t keep him away from the spy novels.” Evelyn’s moose-poop earrings glittered in the light.

  Three waiters swarmed the table, filling water glasses and taking drink orders. After a few minutes, Leigh and Bobby appeared.

  “My hair has developed a mind of its own,” Leigh whispered to me as she took her seat. She, too, was wearing the earrings Piddie had purchased.

  “So, how long you been driving these big boats?” Bobby asked the Captain.

  “My first appointment as Captain was in 1983, but I have been in the business since 1964.”

  Leigh smiled. “You must really like it, then.”

  “I’ve been around ships since I was old enough to walk. My father and his father before him were captains. I can’t imagine any other life.” Captain Raella stood. “I have invited Dr. and Mrs. Paul Wong to join us, as well.” He welcomed the couple to the table.

  “How’re you farin’ after your spill?” Piddie asked when Dr. Wong took her hand in greeting.

  He bowed. “I have had excellent care. I was a little chilled, but otherwise, unharmed. Thanks to you.”

  “P’shaw!” Piddie waved her hand in dismissal. “Anyone would’ve done the same.”

  Piddie studied Dr. Wong for a moment. “Somethin’ I been wonderin’…how do you come by such an American-soundin’ first name?”

  Dr. Wong chuckled. “Ah—it is for the convenience of the Americans I deal with in my work. I am one of many government liaisons between my country’s orphanages and the hopeful couples who seek to offer our children homes in your country.”

  Holston and I exchanged glances.

  “My Chinese name often proved difficult for Americans to pronounce. I adopted the name ‘Paul’ to make communications more effective.”

  Evelyn turned toward Mrs. Wong. “Are you enjoying the cruise?”

  Sushan Wong turned to her husband for interpretation, then answered in Chinese with a nod and smile toward Evelyn.

  “My wife has a limited grasp on your language,” Paul Wong explained. “She relates to me that she has been very warmly received by Regal Queen’s crew.”

  Sushan spoke again to her husband.

  “My wife comments on your beautiful golden earrings. Are they from your home?”

  Piddie flipped her finger at one of the moose-dropping earrings, making it dance and dangle. “Nope, I bought all of us a pair of these in Skagway. They’re gen-u-wine moose poop earrings!”

  The surprise registered on Paul Wong’s features, then spread to his wife when he related Piddie’s disclosure. She nodded with a sheepish smile.

  The waiters arrived with the salad course and baskets of freshly baked bread with sweet cream butter.

  “I understand you are from Florida,” Dr. Wong said to my family.

  Piddie swiped her hand in a circle. “Yep. We’re all from a little town named Chattahoochee in the north part of the state—except for my niece, Hattie. She lives part-time in Tallahassee, the capital. It’s not too far from our home.”

  Paul Wong leaned forward. “Tallahassee? My! The world is, indeed, very small. One of my favorite adoptive couples is from Tallahassee—Rainey and Patricia Hornsby. Their daughter, Ruth is delightful. A most unusual child.”

  “Rainey and Patricia are good friends of ours,” Holston said. “We adore little Ruth.”

  Dr. Wong chattered excitedly to his wife. She nodded with a broad smile.

  “Ruth predicted Sushan and my meeting each other. I will never forget it—such a small, intelligent little girl. She reached up with her tiny hand to touch my cheek and said, ‘Sushan…Sushan’. Two months later, I met my wife. Like me, she had been alone for many years following the death of her spouse. We were married two weeks ago in Beijing. This is our marriage trip.”

  “Honeymoon!” Piddie clapped her hands. “Well, isn’t that something? Looks like this table’s just full to runnin’ over with good news.�
�� She pointed to Bobby and Leigh. “Leigh just found out she’s expectin’ a baby.” She motioned toward Holston and me. “These two just got engaged right here in Alaska, right on top of a glacier. Now, here we find out you two are honey-mooners!”

  “This calls for something special!” The Captain spoke to the waiter. The wine steward appeared with iced champagne for the group and sparkling alcohol-free wine for Leigh and Bobby.

  “Salud!” the captain called out. We raised our champagne flutes into the air.

  The conversation flowed easily around the table as the main course was served. Piddie passed the breadbasket to Dr. Wong. “This bread’s mighty tasty. If you ever come to Chattahoochee, I’ll make you some cathead biscuits. That’s my specialty.”

  Paul Wong translated for his wife. They exchanged puzzled glances, and she replied in Chinese.

  “My wife and I are entertained by Americans. You wear gold excrement on your ears and eat your cats baked in bread.”

  My family broke into hearty laughter. Paul and Sushan Wong and Captain Raella, still looking rather unsettled, joined in.

  I finally caught my breath long enough to explain. “Cathead is just an expression. The biscuits are made by hand, and they are as large as a cat’s head. No animals lose their lives.”

  “Ah!” Paul translated to his wife.

  After an exquisite desert of Cherries Jubilee cooked tableside with tall rippling flames, we sipped cups of rich freshly brewed coffee with cream.

  As we rose to depart, Dr. Wong took Aunt Piddie’s hand. “Mrs. Piddie Longman, we will always be in your debt. Because of your bravery, you are now part of our family. If there is anything I can ever do for you or your family, you have but to ask.”

  Following dinner, we split off in different directions. Evelyn, Joe, Leigh, and Bobby went to the International Showlounge on Deck 7 for the evening’s show. Jake and Piddie decided to take in the casino, and talked the Wongs into accompanying them.

  Seizing the opportunity to be alone, Holston and I begged off from the planned activities, and strolled around the ship, huddled together in the evening chill.

  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Holston asked when we spied the vacant bubbling hot tub on the stern. Giggling like two kids up to no good, we tore off toward the staterooms. We met in the hall in swimsuits and the thick white terry cloth robes provided by the cruise line.

  Piddie had been extremely impressed when she spotted the fluffy white robes hanging in our closet. “Terrier cloth! Isn’t this a fine how-de-do!”

  Terrier cloth—would that be wire fox terrier or rat terrier? I envisioned scores of hairless dogs shivering with embarrassment, sheared to the skin in order to make robes for the cruise industry.

  My sore muscles moaned in relief as I slid into the hot frothy water. Holston slipped in beside me. We watched in shared silence the wide V-shaped wake curling behind the boat as we left Glacier Bay. We would reach Sitka, our next port of call, early the following morning.

  “I’ve been thinking about something.” I wiggled my pruned toes in the frigid air before plunging them back into the water.

  Holston opened his eyes. “Hmmm?”

  “How would you feel—about possibly—adopting a Chinese orphan after we’re married?”

  Holston sat bolt upright and studied my face. “Hattie, I thought you were opposed to having children.”

  “Giving birth to a child, yes. Moot point since I no longer have the piece-parts, but…to help a baby who’s already here, and who’s been deserted? I’ve just been giving it some thought.”

  Holston slid over to encircle me in his arms. “I would be proud and thrilled to be a father.” He kissed me deeply and we held each other as the water bubbled around us—one of those moments, highlighted in bright yellow day-glow marker that stands alone in memory.

  “You want to catch the midnight buffet?” Holston asked as he held my robe.

  I felt a wave of dizziness wash over me. I grabbed Holston for support.

  “You okay?”

  “Bad case of the black twirlies—probably the heat and excitement.”

  “Perhaps it would be best if I tucked you in. I’ll catch up with Jake and Piddie and make sure she gets in okay. We’ll be kayaking in Sitka tomorrow morning. You’ll need your rest.”

  Excerpt from Max the Madhatter’s notebook, May 14, 1957

  Why are so many people searching for peace? All you have to do is look inside. I guess if you have your insides right, the rest will follow.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  SITKA BAY

  The Regal Queen picked her way between the forested islands of Sitka Sound, approaching our final port of call. A second cruise ship anchored offshore dwarfed a nearby boat half its size. The Queen nestled among the ships and dropped anchor. The trips ashore would be accomplished with the ship’s tenders, small covered boats used to ferry passengers to the docks of Sitka.

  Holston, Leigh, Bobby, and I scurried to Deck Six to meet the 8:00 AM group boarding for the kayaking adventure. Evelyn and Joe were departing at the same time for the Historic Russian America and Eagle Raptor tour. Since the weather had turned gray with the threat of light rain, Piddie and Jake had opted to sleep in, possibly leaving later for the shopping district.

  The bay pitched the tender boat, making the initial step into the small craft an act of bravery and timing. Two attendants stood on either side to help us balance long enough to step aboard and find a seat for the brief ride to the long gangplank leading upward to shore.

  Yet another Cheesy Photo Opportunity awaited the six of us at the top of the metal stairway. Two cruise employees, one dressed as a goofy moose and, the other, a polar bear, hammed for pictures with arriving passengers. A third snapped quick snapshots of the shore visitors hemmed between the two characters.

  Evelyn scowled. “I’ll hear about this later.”

  “Why’s that?” Leigh asked.

  “Mama’s bought every single picture they’ve made of her since we stepped on the boat. I bet she’s spent over a hundred dollars so far. She’ll be fit to be tied she missed one!”

  Joe reached for his wife’s hand. “Maybe the weather’ll clear up, and she and Jake will come over later on. Those two stayed up pretty late with the Dr. and his wife.”

  Holston chuckled. “It was after 11:30 when I left them at the Bengal Bar, and they were still going strong. Piddie was charged up about going to the champagne waterfall.”

  I sighed. “I can’t believe I missed that!” The stacked tower of champagne flutes overflowing with bubbly was a spectacle I’d heard about from everyone who’d ever gone on a cruise.

  “Don’t worry. I’m quite sure Mama’ll tell you about it in detail. No doubt, she’ll have the pictures, too.”

  “Here’s our group!” Joe pointed to a sign held by the tour leader. “See y’all back on the boat later.”

  The four of us met the remainder of the kayaking adventure tour gathered by a nearby dock.

  “Just want to give you folks a brief safety spiel.” Zachary, the tall red-haired tour leader, motioned for us to be seated on a series of benches.

  After he explained the safety procedures and provided bright orange life vests, all ten of us loaded onto a twenty-foot rubber boat with twin engines for the ride across the bay. A narrow inlet off the main bay opened into a small mist-dappled cove. The kayaking outfitter’s shack floated on pontoons at the far end of the waterway, surrounded by a series of short docks. Bobbing gently, multicolored kayaks of various sizes were corralled between the wooden walkways. The runabout deposited us on a long extension of the main dock.

  “I hope we can do this without it ending up looking like a Three Stooges routine,” Leigh remarked as we watched the rowing demonstration.

  Holston steadied the rocking two-person boat as I crouched low on the dock and transferred my weight slowly into the forward seat. I steadied the front of the kayak by bracing the end of my paddle on the dock, allowing him to slip
into the seat behind me. One deck over, Leigh and Bobby almost tipped before settling into place.

  Bobby laughed. “It won’t be the first time I’ve fallen out of a boat. But, I sure wouldn’t want to ride back in the wind in wet clothes.”

  “Not to mention, having to hear about it from me the whole way back,” Leigh added.

  Holston and I soon synchronized our paddling rhythm. The small sliver of a craft sliced through the water with little effort. Holston maneuvered two foot pedals to alter its course to the left or right.

  Cool mists curled like tongues licking over the clear smooth cove. Profound peace. I could have died right there—right at that moment. Perhaps, it was because my distant ancestors had once oozed from the sea that many of the times I’d had this feeling involved being in or around water. Stillness. An awareness of my heart beating, holding a predictable, steady rhythm. Breath pulling in, flowing out—all the billion chemical and molecular processes twirling along at their preset paces. For the first time since the loss of my parents, I felt truly content.

  When the mist lifted, the tree branches became visible, lush and velvety green.

  “Look at that,” Holston mouthed in an awed whisper.

  Poised like Disney animations, bald eagles were perched on every other branch. The entire cove was surrounded by towering evergreens dotted with the majestic sentinels. As if a choral director had flipped an invisible switch, a ripple of motion jolted the aviary community. Eagles took to wing, dipped, dove, and scooped fish from the water all around our pack of kayaks. In vain, I tried to rough-count their numbers. I gave up at forty, and simply enjoyed the pageant.