Dodos

by Al Lamanda

  Patience patted Muffie-Jo on the head. “If mine doesn’t work out for some reason, you can have it free of charge.”

  “I want one of my own,” Muffie-Jo sobbed. “I want a baby. A tiny little baby Ian.”

  “I would think a full grown Ian would suffice.”

  “Ian would never hurt a baby,” Muffie-Jo said.

  “No, suffice means…oh, never mind.”

  Muffie-Jo sniffled.

  “There, there,” Patience said.

  Muffie-Jo cried.

  Patience patted.

  Muffie-Jo cried some more.

  Patience patted some more.

  Eyes grew heavy and heads slumped together.

  “Lookit my lips,” Ian said.

  “I’d rather eat my own tongue,” Gavin said as he removed the hotel room key from his pocket.

  “I’m serious,” Ian insisted. “I burned my lips. I think they’re swollen.”

  “You said extra hot.”

  “I didn’t say hot enough to melt lead hot.”

  Gavin and Ian paused in front of the door to their suite. As Gavin inserted the key, Ian said, “Definitely swollen.”

  “You’re lips are gonna be a hell of a lot more swollen than they are now if you don’t shut up about it,” Gavin said and turned the key.

  “So you admit my lips are swollen,” Ian said.

  Gavin shoved open the door and stepped into the living room of the suite with Ian on his heels.

  “The only thing I’ll admit to is…” Gavin said and paused to look around.

  Ian stepped forward. “What the hell happened in here?”

  Empty plates, bowls, glasses, serving trays lined the table centered in the room. “It looks like they ate themselves into a coma,” Gavin said.

  Ian picked up the empty champagne bottle and looked at Muffie-Jo and Patience, who were resting against each other on the sofa.

  “Well, what do we do?” Ian said.

  “Leave’em,” Gavin said. “They’ll wake up sometime during the night and stumble into bed.”

  “Let’s check out the leftovers first,” Ian suggested.

  Gavin scanned the table. “Not a bad idea.”

  SEVENTEEN

  As Gavin and Patience sipped morning coffee at the table, Gavin read the bill from the previous evening’s food orgy. “Nine hundred and eleven dollars?” Gavin said.

  “You said anything we want,” Patience said.

  “For two people, not the US Navy.”

  “Three if you count the little guy,” Patience said and rubbed her stomach.

  “I doubt the little guy ate the equivalent of a chicken wing,” Gavin said.

  The second bedroom door opened. Ian, robe over shorts and tee shirt ambled out and walked toward the table. “I love chicken wings,” he said. “Especially when they’re extra crispy. You order some?”

  “It’s just ten after nine in the morning,” Gavin said.

  Ian filled a cup with coffee from the silver carafe and plopped into a chair. “Boy, I can use this,” he said. “Muffie-Jo kept me up all night talking in her sleep. Kept calling me baby. All night, baby, baby, baby. I think it was the champagne.”

  “Ian, I don’t think she was calling you…” Patience said.

  “Well, we got all day to kill so we might as well get to eating,” Ian said. “What should we order?”

  “Breakfast and I was thinking we should spend the morning working on details,” Gavin said.

  “Details,” Ian said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “They generally take care of themselves.”

  “Sure they do,” Gavin said. “After hours and hours of study, planning, process of elimination and rehearsal.”

  Ian sighed. “Well, can we at least order us up some breakfast while we talk about it?” he said.

  “We need your wife,” Gavin said.

  “Oh, well, she never gets up before at least eleven,” Ian said. “Sometimes even…”

  At that moment, Muffie-Jo, white robe over nighty, pink fuzzy slippers on her feet, marched from the bedroom to the table. “I want a baby,” she announced.

  After several seconds of silence, Ian said, “Me?”

  “Yes, you,” Muffie-Jo said. “Of course you. Angelina has Brad all tied up at the moment.”

  “Umm, when you say a baby, you mean like a kitten or a puppy, something like that?” Ian said.

  “No,” Muffie-Jo said, calmly. “What I mean is a baby, the kind with two legs, two arms and one head. I want one.”

  Gavin and Patience exchanged glances.

  “And I want one now,” Muffie-Jo added.

  “When you say now, you mean in a couple of years we talk about…”

  “Now!” Muffie-Jo snarled and slapped Ian on the head. “Now, now, now, right now,” she said and whacked Ian a few more times.

  “My lips!” Ian cried. “Watch my lips.”

  “Never mind your lips,” Muffie-Jo said and yanked Ian out of the chair. She pointed to the bedroom. “You get in there right now and make me a baby.”

  “But…”

  Whack.

  “See…”

  Whack.

  “I haven’t had any…”

  Whack, whack, whack.

  “Okay, jeeze, you don’t leave a guy any room.”

  Muffie-Jo pointed to the bedroom. “Go.”

  Tail between his legs, Ian entered the bedroom with Muffie-Jo right behind him. “And you’re not coming out until you get it right,” she said and closed the door.

  Gavin sipped his coffee and looked at Patience. “You did this, didn’t you?”

  “Hey,” Patience said and sipped coffee.

  “It’s a lot more difficult to get pregnant than most people think,” Patience said as she nibbled toast. “There’s a lot of variables.”

  “P, we’re planning a job here,” Gavin said as he cut into pancakes.

  “For instance Muffie-Jo, are you ovulating?” Patience said. “Have you checked your temperature? Are the conditions ideal? Do you raise your legs and scrunch your stomach just after to help move things along.”

  “What things?” Muffie-Jo said.

  “Christ sake,” Gavin snapped.

  Ian gathered omelet, potatoes, bacon and sausage on his fork and shoved it all into his mouth. He chewed and said, “For once I’m with Lee. Let’s talk about the job.”

  “What conditions?” Muffie-Jo said, ignoring Ian.

  “Well, if you’re ovulating and your temperature is right, there is a small window of opportunity in which to…”

  “P, can that wait until later?” Gavin said. “We really need Muffie-Jo to concentrate on the details here.”

  “Yeah, don’t clog up her head with this stuff now,” Ian said. “Clog it later.”

  Patience nodded to Muffie-Jo. “We’ll talk later.”

  “Muffie-Jo?” Gavin said.

  “Yes?”

  “You need to look lip smacking, man eating irresistible tonight,” Gavin said.

  “Really?” Patience said, looking at Gavin.

  “They need to get drunk just looking at you,” Gavin said.

  “Don’t you think that’s a bit…?” Ian said.

  “What clothes have you picked out?” Gavin said.

  “A tan suede mini skirt with fishnet stockings,” Muffie-Jo said. “Black pumps, a peach tank top with a new string of pearls and matching earrings.”

  “What new string of pearls?” Ian said.

  “The one we’re going shopping for right after breakfast.”

  “Why do you need…?” Ian said.

  “Never mind that now,” Gavin said. “Muffie-Jo, tell me the plan.”

  Muffie-Jo stared at Gavin for a long moment. A bead of sweat appeared on her forehead as she chewed her lower lip.

  “She’s not good under pressure,” Ian said. “So let’s go to plan B.”

  “Is none,” Gavin said. “Come on, Muffie-Jo, I have faith in you.”

  “You do?”


  “Absolutely,” Gavin said. “One hundred percent.”

  Muffie-Jo glared at Ian. “Hear that Mr. doubting Thomas’s? One hundred percent.”

  “It’s Thomas and…”

  “So what’s the plan?” Gavin said.

  “I get them to take me for a drink in the revolving bar and keep them occupied long enough for you to search their rooms,” Muffie-Jo said. “Oh, and I get them to talk about themselves so they might say something important or stupid. Either way.”

  “And?”

  “The pen,” Muffie-Jo said moving her right thumb up and down. “I click the pen.”

  “Very good,” Gavin said.

  “Can we go shopping for my pearls now?”

  “Yes,” Gavin said.

  Muffie-Jo stood up and grabbed Ian by the arm. “Come on, stud muffin, get dressed.”

  “I’m still not clear on this new pearls thing,” Ian said.

  “And I’m not clear on this lip smacking man eating thing,” Patience said.

  Gavin took another sip of coffee, then said, “We know where they will be from five to six tonight. That isn’t enough time to do a thorough search. If she can tie them up for several hours, we have more time and if she can get them talking, who knows what valuable information we might get.”

  Dressed, Ian and Muffie-Jo returned to the table. “We’re off,” Ian said.

  “Have fun,” Gavin said.

  “I’d have a lot more fun if you forked over some expense money,” Ian said.

  Gavin dug out two thousand dollars and gave it to Muffie-Jo. “Pick out something nice,” he said.

  “That one,” Muffie-Jo said.

  “Eighteen inch, very good choice,” the salesman behind the counter of a large jewelry store said.

  “Uh, how much is it?” Ian said.

  “In American?” the salesman said. “Eleven hundred plus tax.”

  “What about that little…” Ian said.

  “I’ll take it,” Muffie-Jo said.

  “Excellent,” the salesman said. “Shall I wrap it for you?”

  “I’ll wear it,” Muffie-Jo said.

  The salesman removed the pearls from the counter as Muffie-Jo counted out the bills from the money Gavin gave her earlier. As the salesman held out the string, Muffie-Jo opened her coat to reveal the low cut sweater underneath and the Salesman paused briefly. Automatically, his eyes lowered as Muffie-Jo leaned forward to allow him to attach the string around her neck. Once firmly in place, Muffie-Jo stepped back.

  “There,” Muffie-Jo said. “How do they look?”

  The pearls ended just at Muffie-Jo’s cleavage and the salesman’s eyes stared at it. “They look wonderful,” he said.

  “You know, I think I want something else,” Muffie-Jo said.

  “Excellent,” the salesman said as beads of sweat formed on his brow.

  “Like what?” Ian said.

  “Let me think,” Muffie-Jo said. After a few moments of scanning the various counters, she lifted the string of pearls, gently placed it between her lips, and softly nibbled on a pearl.

  Sweat broke out on the salesman’s face like rain drops as he stared at Muffie-Jo.

  Ian looked at the salesman, then looked at Muffie-Jo. Innocently, she nibbled on a pearl and the more she nibbled, the more the salesman sweat. “I think you should pick something before he sweats to death,” Ian said.

  “That one,” Muffie-Jo said and the pearls fell from her lips.

  “The bracelet?” the salesman said.

  “Yes and that big gaudy ring there in a size seven.”

  “What do you need a…?” Ian said.

  “Later,” Muffie-Jo said and smiled at the salesman who all but exploded at the sight of her beaming face.

  “So, what’s the bracelet and ring for?” Ian said as he and Muffie-Jo strolled arm in arm back to their hotel.

  “The bracelet is for Patience because I love her dearly,” Muffie-Jo said. “The ring is to cover the mark made by my wedding ring.”

  “Okay, I’ll buy the Patience thing,” Ian said. “But your wedding ring?”

  “Apparently you know nothing about seducing a man,” Muffie-Jo said.

  “Ha!” Ian said. “It just so happens I’m an expert on the subject.”

  “Really?” Muffie-Jo giggled.

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Ian, I can’t very well seduce this Prego guy with…”

  “Pogo,” Ian said. “His name is Peter Pogo. Not spaghetti sauce.”

  “Right, Pogo. I can’t exactly seduce this Pogo with a big fat wedding ring on my finger, now can I?”

  “When you say seduce, you’re talking metaphorically?” Ian said.

  “If I knew what that meant, I might agree.”

  “It means…”

  “Let’s talk about our baby,” Muffie-Jo said.

  “Let’s talk about Pogo?” Ian said.

  “Patience said something about conditions,” Muffie-Jo said. “I’ll ask her as soon as we get back.”

  “For Christ sake, Muffie-Jo,” Ian said. “She’s my sister.”

  “And a nurse. I’ll ask only that part.”

  “Let’s talk about Pogo?”

  “Let’s talk about all the fun you’ll have as the father of a new baby.”

  His face blanched the color of fresh driven snow; Ian looked at Muffie-Jo as she giggled. “Well, at least we’ll never run out of milk,” Ian said.

  Gavin scribbled a note in his book, then looked up at Ian. “I’ll hit the rooms while you monitor the pen at the table in the bar,” he said. “You can call me on my cell if there’s something new I should know about.”

  On the sofa of the suite, Muffie-Jo and Patience had their heads together. Patience leaned over to whisper in Muffie-Jo’s ear.

  “Really?” Muffie-Jo said.

  Ian and Gavin turned to look at Muffie-Jo.

  “A turkey baster?” Muffie-Jo said to Patience.

  Gavin looked at Patience, knowing that smirk on her face.

  “How do you fill it?” Muffie-Jo said.

  Patience, Gavin and Muffie-Jo looked at Ian.

  “Unless it involves an electric carving knife and a Thanksgiving turkey, I don’t want to know about it,” Ian said.

  EIGHTEEN

  Pogo, Gilbert and Godfrey Gordon, Westland and Clipper exited the lecture hall with full intent of an early dinner at their hotel and hitting the sack before ten because they had a scheduled news appearance with the Swiss PBS station at seven the following morning.

  Walking shoulder to shoulder, the five men stopped short as if they hit an invisible wall when they caught sight of Muffie-Jo strolling directly toward them in the museum hallway.

  With coat open, fleeting glimpses of fishnet stockings, mini skirt, tank top and pearls, Muffie-Jo looked Pogo directly in the eye as her heels clacked on the marble floors.

  Pogo felt his heart beat quicken as he looked into those deep blue pools that seemed to look right through him. Then, she was directly in front of him with quivering lower lip.

  “I missed it,” Muffie-Jo said in a sad, little girl’s voice. “I missed the lecture again, didn’t I?”

  Frozen in place, the five members of the New York Science Club stared at Muffie-Jo the way a cat does an injured mouse.

  Muffie-Jo’s lower lip quivered a bit more. Her deep blue eyes appeared on the verge of shedding a tear. “I guess I’ll have to fly home without hearing about your wonderful discovery,” she said in her sad, sad little voice.

  The five members of the New York Science Club continued to stare at Muffie-Jo.

  “Well, thank you anyway boys,” Muffie-Jo said and turned away.

  The five members of the New York Science Club suddenly came to life.

  “Wait, miss…?” Pogo said.

  Muffie-Jo smiled to herself, then put on her sad face as she slowly turned around. “Yes?” she said with quivering lip in her little girl voice.

  “Umm, maybe we could…that is I th
ink…I mean my colleagues and I could…well, we could spare a few minutes for someone so interested in our work,” Pogo said. “Right, men?”

  “Absolutely,” Clipper said.

  “Definitely,” Gilbert Gordon said.

  “Categorically” Godfrey Gordon said.

  “Positively,” Westland said.

  “Unquestionably,” Clipper added for good measure.

  “Boy,” Muffie-Jo said as he quivering lips turned to a wide, bright smile. “You boys sure know a lot of big words.”

  “Oh, God,” Westland said.

  “But, the museum is closing in ten minutes,” Muffie-Jo said. “Is that enough time for us to get to know each other?”

  “My good God,” Clipper said.

  “Wait, I know,” Muffie-Jo said, her voice perky now. “We could get a glass of wine at the spinning bar and you can tell me your lecture there while it’s spinning, if you’d like.”

  “My heart,” Clipper said.

  “That’s a wonderful idea, Miss…?” Pogo said.

  “Margaret Josephine,” Muffie-Jo said. “But my friends call me Muffie-Jo. I’m not sure why.”

  “Oh, Lord,” Gilbert said.

  “Well, Muffie-Jo,” Pogo said and extended his right arm. “Shall we?”

  “You boys are just so yummy,” Muffie-Jo said as she took Pogo’s arm. “I could just eat you all up.”

  “Lord oh Lord,” Godfrey said.

  “Thank you, Jesus,” Gilbert said.

  Across the street from the museum, Gavin and Ian sat at a window table, sipped coffee and watched Muffie-Jo and the five members of the New York Science Club exit the museum and walk down the steps.

  “She’s got Pogo’s arm,” Gavin said. “That’s good.”

  “They look like they’re about to sing we’re off to see the wizard,” Ian said.

  “He’s hailing a cab,” Gavin said.

  “I think that guy just grabbed her…”

  “Come on, Muffie-Jo, give me the signal,” Gavin said.

  “What signal?” Ian said.

  “Next time pay attention when we’re talking details,” Gavin said.

  As a cab pulled alongside the curb, Muffie-Jo looked directly into the diner window and flung her pink scarf around her neck. Then, without missing a beat, she allowed Pogo to escort her into the back seat of the cab.