Curds and Whey Box Set

by G M Eppers

  “And he actually expected my retraction to make a difference?”

  “He was pretty desperate by then. His entire plan was falling apart because of one media story. It was the only thing he could think of to reverse the damage.”

  I was almost winded from just listening to it. “I suppose it will be tied up in the courts for years.”

  Roxy smiled broadly. “Oh, I think they are going to expedite this in spectacular fashion.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  Nitro couldn’t contain himself. “Easy. 250 kilos of Limburger in the evidence locker. They’ll want to clear that case ASAP. It’s sealed, but why take the chance? One little hole in the bag and they wouldn’t be able to clean that smell out of the locker for three years.” I had a feeling that Gacha would acquire one more collection soon, known as consecutive life sentences. In his frame of mind, he’d probably like that better than one lousy acquittal anyway.

  Roxy continued, “On the upside, we also found all our missing equipment, and,” she let this last word trail out and I could almost hear the implied drumroll, “my shoes! The dress was still ruined, the bastards, but the shoes were still in perfect shape. I’ve already got them packed. From now on, I’ll only wear them to very special occasions.”

  There was a polite knock on the door as a nurse arrived pushing a wheeled cart with two trays on it covered with oblong stainless steel domes. “Good Afternoon!” she said cheerfully. “I understand we have a couple of hungry patients in here.” I found the buttons for my bed and managed to raise my head to a comfortable eating level. Avis helped Billings get into position as well, though the twins were on the wrong side of the bed to pull over the bedtable. Roxy did so, while Nitro pulled over mine. The nurse rolled the cart between the beds and handed Billings his tray first as the twins made room for her to get through by scrunching forward against the nightstand. “Hello, Mr. Montana. How are we feeling today?” She spoke with the thickest Italian accent I’d heard so far. She was also seriously built, putting even Roxy to shame, slender with a small waist and disproportionately large breasts which barely stayed within her uniform. She leaned in seductively to place the tray on Billings’ table, letting her thick black hair drape to one side. It brushed against Billings’ bare arm.

  Avis reversed a step and put her hands on the tray cover. “Back off, Nurse Flirty. He’s spoken for.”

  “Spoken for?” She apparently was not familiar with the idiom.

  “Taken. Unavailable. Freaking engaged!” Avis reiterated.

  The nurse moved back, shrugging, unaware of how she’d been presenting herself, and twisted to serve my tray. I was going to tell Avis that there was no reason for name-calling, but as the nurse leaned toward me to slide the tray onto the table I got a clear view of her hospital name tag. “Infermiera Flirti,” it said. Aha, ‘infermiera’ must mean ‘nurse’. Then my brain latched onto what Avis had actually said. “Wait a minute. Engaged? When did this happen?”

  More or less forgotten, Nurse Flirti took her empty cart and left the room.

  Avis lifted the cover off of Billings’ tray to reveal some kind of red meat smothered in gravy, some mashed potatoes, also under gravy, and a scoop of creamed corn. Next to the plate were utensils and a pudding cup. To me, it looked like a king’s feast. As Avis was doing magic with hospital food, Billings explained, “in the ambulance on the way here. I was pretty loopy at the time, but I think Avis means to hold me to it. She threatened me if I didn’t commit.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “She threatened you? Avis! How did she threaten you?”

  The two of them exchanged a knowing look, and Billings said, “she said she would tie my testicles together in a double knot if I said no. So I said yes. Then passed out. And I thought the Mafia was dangerous.”

  “How romantic,” mused Roxy, clasping her hands next to her head in a mock southern maiden swoon.

  “Congratulations, my boy!” said Sir Haughty. “That’s simply marvelous news!”

  Badger said, “I’m very happy for both of you. Please don’t make me best man.”

  Billings, who no doubt hadn’t even thought about a best man yet, asked, “Why not?”

  “I can’t make a speech,” Badger replied, wiping a tear from his eye. “I always cry at weddings. You have no idea! Last one I went to was a cousin I don’t even like and I went through three hankies. They were childhood sweethearts, and they used ‘Sunrise, Sunset’ for a recessional and,” as he spoke, he teared up further and had more difficulty getting the words out, “and then at the reception their first dance was ‘Wind Beneath My Wings’ and, oh, look at me!” He pulled his hankie out of a back pocket and blew his nose. “I’d never survive.”

  Nitro said, “I’d be honored to be your best man.”

  “As would I,” agreed Sir Haughty.

  Billings laughed. “Thank you, all of you. I think it’s a little early to start passing out job assignments. Corn please,” he told Avis.

  No one had thought to lift the cover off of my tray, and the big bandages kept sliding off the stainless steel. It made some clattering noise, but still no one seemed to get the message. I didn’t feel I should have to say anything directly since Billings was already digging in. I was a little annoyed, but still had questions. So instead, I said, “By the way, Badger, what does Capo Piccolo mean?”

  “Capo Piccolo? Why do you ask?” He was still dabbing the corners of his eyes with his handkerchief, but he quickly poked it back in his pocket with several short thrusts to make sure it was well hidden.

  “The thugs kept calling me that. And that was before we all started singing. Were they making fun of my voice?”

  Badger pressed his lips tightly together as he tried to contain his laughter. It spurted out anyway in a near-raspberry sound. “Um, no. It has nothing to do with your voice.”

  “They had a name for Billings, too. What was it?”

  Billings swallowed a hunk of meat and my stomach growled, but there was a principle at stake here, if you’ll pardon the pun. And I still wanted to know what Capo Piccolo meant. “Oh, they called me Topo Alto. I don’t get it.”

  Badger looked like he didn’t want to tell me what these names meant any more than Nitro wanted to tell me that my quarter inch was temporarily back. “All the times we’ve been in Italy and you can’t pick up even a little vocabulary?”

  “Formaggio,” I said.

  “Oh, sure. You know the word ‘cheese’ in every language on Earth.”

  “Badger, what do those names mean?” He continued to hesitate, so I prodded him again, more sternly. “Badger?”

  “Tiny Leader and Tall Mouse,” he said quickly.

  I looked at Billings, and Billings looked at me. Badger didn’t have to tell us which was which. “I hope they rot in prison,” said Billings. “Mouse indeed.”

  Finally, someone noticed I was having trouble getting to my food. Sylvia muscled her way to the side of the bed, sat, and removed the stainless steel cover on my tray. “Oh my God, what’s this?” I asked. There on the orange plastic tray sat a plump hot dog in a bun, covered with a mound of relish. It was while I was marveling at the food that Butte arrived. He entered shyly, as if he wasn’t sure he was welcome. I looked up at him. “Did you arrange this?” I asked, indicating the hot dog. It clearly wasn’t regular hospital food—no hospital of any repute would ever serve a hot dog-- and there was no way for the staff here to know my preference.

  “Guilty,” said Butte.

  “Here, let me,” said Sylvia, as she carefully lifted the hot dog and turned it toward my mouth. I opened wide, only a little self-conscious of the phallic symbolism, and took a bite off the end. It was not an authentic Nathan’s hot dog, but even though the first bite was mostly bun, and glops of relish dripped off back onto the plate, it was delicious beyond words. I groaned in gastronomic ecstasy.

  “Should we leave you three alone?” asked Sir Haughty, who stood at the door to the bathroom overseeing the whole affair.

/>   With food still in my mouth, I said, “No, please. I don’t want anyone to leave.” I fully swallowed and added, “besides, I still don’t know what happened after I got darted.”

  “That’s your cue, Butte,” said Agnes.

  Butte was amused by my hot dog eating skills. I should have insisted he have one his way as well—there must be some very interesting condiments for him to add on in Italy--, but I was too busy chewing. Sylvia waited patiently for my mouth to reopen, indicating I was ready for more. “Well,” Butte began, finding a chair and straddling it backwards, “Agnes and Avis followed you through the door almost immediately. I wanted to go next, but they insisted. In fact, I believe Avis’ actual words were, ‘I’ll tie your testicles in a double knot.’”

  I caught Avis blushing at being caught using the same threat twice in one day. “Avis, I need to talk to you about idle threats,” I said between bites.

  “Nothing idle about it,” she said, scooping up some creamed corn for Billings. “I’d be happy to demonstrate if you can find a volunteer,” she offered. As expected, there were no takers.

  “Go on, Butte,” I said, opening my mouth for another bite.

  “Well, about a minute after going in, the twins returned to report that you’d gone down. It seems they witnessed a man drop upside down from the ceiling behind you and blow the dart through a long straw. So, I deferred to Sylvia, who determined that the up and over route was now called for. She went up to the roof alone first, to investigate the surveillance camera. It was dark, of course, but she found a flashlight, and some basic hand tools from…gee, I don’t even want to know where, and climbed up. She was up there for several minutes while the rest of us had to bite our tongues to avoid shouting up at her. I think mine even bled a little. But she was able to disable the camera, though she couldn’t verify whether or not it was working in the first place. Then we went up as a group to examine our options, but even with the flashlight, it was too dark to make any determinations. We finally had to give up for the night and got some sleep in the van.

  “At first light, we went up again. Sylvia found some kind of air vent, and we could kind of hear some voices through it, not very distinct. We weren’t sure it was you, but we decided to go with the odds. We were trying to figure out how to get through when Vertucci showed up. She said she wanted to help after all, and she had a crowbar, a hammer and a plywood saw. She has all kinds of tools hidden away in that shack of hers. She has a biscuit joiner, Helena. A freaking biscuit joiner! It was still in the box, but she has one. Anyway, we pulled up some shingles, ripped up some sheathing and got access to the joists. People passing probably thought we were fixing the roof, not systematically destroying it. That got us into an attic space, and from there we did the same thing to break through the joists and more sheathing until we opened up the ceiling above you.”

  “Um,” I interrupted, “did you happen to see any sign of spiders while you were up there?”

  Butte grinned in a way I didn’t like at all. “Oh, tons. Webs everywhere. Dozens of egg sacs, too.” I scowled at him. He could have comforted me by denying any evidence of spiders. Instead he had to tease me? I took a bite of hot dog without looking and nearly nipped Sylvia’s finger.

  “Or was it heavily water damaged?” asked Badger, which Roxy would call leading the witness. “Did it rain that night?”

  Butte thought about it. “You know, I don’t really remember. We were so tired when we went to the van I think we all slept pretty soundly. It might have rained a bit, but it was clear when we woke up and the moisture was no more than would be caused by dew. Why? You guys get unseen visitors in the night?”

  “Just dripping water,” said Billings as Avis wiped his mouth with a napkin.

  Still, an involuntary shiver went up my spine at the memory of the crawling sensation and I wiggled in the bed. “Don’t wiggle, Helena,” said Sylvia, missing my mouth with the hot dog and giving me an earful of relish. The relish dribbled down my cheek and neck and Sylvia quickly caught it with a napkin.

  “Sorry. Couldn’t help it. The spider thing, you know.”

  She crumpled the soiled napkin and plopped it on the tray. “No, I don’t actually. What’s wrong with spiders?” Naturally. Sylvia wasn’t afraid of spiders. As far as I knew, she wasn’t afraid of anything. “You’re a million times bigger than they are and you have opposable thumbs.”

  “Actually,” suggested Badger without even consulting his phone, “that depends on the species.”

  “What, some spiders have thumbs?” asked Sylvia incredulously.

  Badger gave her a sarcastic head wiggle. “No, I mean the size. There are some small enough to fit a million in the space of a human body, even one as small as Helena,”—I was never going to live that down, although that, in itself, was a height joke—“but there are also some that would only fit a few dozen in the same space.”

  “You are not helping, Badger,” I said.

  There was another polite knock on the door. It was a different nurse this time, with very short black hair and three rings in her left nostril. “I’m sorry. Visiting hours are ending. Ms. Montana needs her rest. Mr. Montana, you’ll be discharged in the morning. Do you have someone to assist you at home?”

  Avis turned to stare at the nurse. “Yes, he does. Thank you.”

  They were permitted to stay until I’d finished eating, but then were ushered out. The room got quiet. I was more tired than I’d expected to be and fumbled with the bed control to bring my head down. Lazily, I looked at Billings and a wave of thankfulness came over me. I silently thanked the powers that be that we’d gotten out of the storage building. It was over. I didn’t want to close my eyes, because then I couldn’t see Billings anymore and I wanted to keep seeing him. He had also lowered his head and appeared ready for a good night’s rest. He must have noticed me out of the corner of his eye. “Stop staring at me, Mom. We’re going to be okay.” I rolled my head and stared at the ceiling instead. I was tired, but I didn’t want to sleep.

  Just as sleep seemed to be coming anyway, the door opened and someone came in quietly, closing the door behind them. A little panicked, I raised my head again. “Who is it?”

  It was a woman in a long trench coat with a hood, wearing sunglasses. At my question, she lowered her hood and took off the glasses. For a moment, I still didn’t recognize her. Her silvery hair was down around her shoulders and my mind’s eye automatically rearranged it into a bun. It was Miss Chiff. “What are you doing here? Visiting hours are over,” I said.

  “I won’t stay long,” she replied, “but I had to talk to you. I had to apologize. I’m sorry I sent you on that foolish mission.”

  “Foolish?” asked Billings. “We took down a major Mafia Uber cartel and prevented hundreds of kilos of Limburger from being sold.”

  “No, not that,” Miss Chiff explained. “I mean Helena’s mission. Of course, it was Gacha’s orders, but I should not have agreed to it. Knowing what I know now, I can see what difficulties I’ve put you through, Helena.” She stepped forward and gently took one of my bandaged hands in hers. “That was why I told you to turn off your phone. I was afraid Gacha would find you. I suspected he was involved somehow, but I wasn’t sure. The only way to make sure he couldn’t find you was to make sure I couldn’t find you, either. Now I also realize that my actions would have made you suspect me as well. You must have felt so…abandoned. I’m very sorry.” She put my hand down and went into official mode. “You may tell Mr. Collins that the upgrade at your HQ is legitimate. I have no doubt Gacha authorized it with the expectation of spying on our operatives, but with him locked up you can be assured that it will not be misused.”

  “Thank you, Miss Chiff,” I said.

  “May I ask a question?” said Billings.

  “Of course,” she replied.

  “Speaking of upgrades, I’d like to request proper hurdles for our exercise yard.”

  “Oh, and a chin-up bar,” I added.

  She hummed. “
Oh dear. We are already incredibly over budget, but I’ll see what I can do.” She put her hood back up and slipped the sunglasses back on. “The problem is, I was never here, you see. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” Billings and I both responded. She disappeared out the door, switching off the light as she went.

  Billings was discharged first thing in the morning, but I was in the hospital for another day. My second day, I got a visit from Dinny, who couldn’t stand waiting on the airplane anymore. “Dinny!” I welcomed her with a broad grin after several hours of maddening alone time. “I didn’t recognize you without your plane!”

  She leaned over the bed to give me a huge hug that seemed to last five minutes, sobbing, “Oh, Helena! I was so worried! I’m so glad you’re okay. Is there anything you need? Anything I can get you? Anything at all? Do you need a fluff?” She started to fluff my pillow, which had already been fluffed by three nurses coming to wish me well, including Nurse Flirti.

  “Thank you, Dinny. I’ll be fine. Is the plane ready?”

  “Oh, it’s been ready for days!” she said, wiping tears from her eyes with one finger. “Here, have a drink,” and she held the cup with the bendy straw near my mouth. I wasn’t thirsty, but I took a sip anyway so she could feel useful, and thanked her again. A word of advice: Don’t make friends with a flight attendant unless you enjoy being smother mothered. Next, she adjusted my blankets, then took the buttons to raise my feet and raise my head just a bit more. She produced a plastic spoon and a yogurt cup, opened it, and proceeded to shovel strawberry yogurt into my mouth. She brought a hair brush from the bathroom and began brushing my hair while she talked. “T.B. will be so happy to see you, too. He knew something was up. Did I tell you? No, I don’t think I did. He’s just been moping around the cabin ever since you disappeared. Really, it was weird. When I got word that Billings had been kidnapped, he seemed disturbed, but not all that out of sorts, until we heard about you. Then he curled up in a corner and would barely come out to even use the litter box. And he walked like he didn’t have a friend in the world when he did come out. Made me feel like chopped liver, let me tell you. And Backwash spent almost the entire time in the chair where Billings usually sits. He’d curl up in the seat, then drape over the back, and hide underneath, but always his seat. Waiting for his Daddy. Isn’t that just the sweetest thing? And poor Harelip had no one to play with. She kept trying to get the other two to chase her, but they wouldn’t. Finally, she went to the upper level and started batting around that jingle ball. Sounded like Christmas for a while there. Oh! I have to tell you what I found at the Farmer’s Market I went to yesterday!” And she went on and on, brushing my hair and adjusting my environment to no end. I had a great time.