The Madhatter's Guide To Chocolate

by Rhett DeVane

  Human activity ceased while the eagles performed in the freefall circus. No one twitched. No mechanical whir of a camera film-advance disturbed the magic. As we slowly inched our way around the cove, the curious sentinels tipped their heads to follow our progress with piercing predatory yellow eyes. A few posed with wings outspread, drying their feathers in the cool air. The guide kayak led us single file as we snaked along the shoreline.

  “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen so many eagles in this cove at one time,” Zachary whispered. “That was the most amazing thing I’ve seen in all the years I’ve been leading these trips.”

  We moored the kayaks, helping each other negotiate the docks without overturning. Inside the rustic cabin, the outfitters had prepared warm, spiced apple cider and hot chocolate. On the return trip, we were still too dumbstruck to talk as the twin engines pushed the boat across the bay to Sitka.

  I awakened from a pillow-drooling nap to a series of sharp raps on the stateroom door. My head was blasting a raucous show tune of a headache as I stood and stumbled to answer.

  “Eewwww, am I glad I stopped by.” Jake pushed his way by me and flopped onto Piddie’s bed. “You look like death on a holiday. Put your clean panties on, sister-girl, I’ve made an appointment for you. The spa just happened to have a last minute cancellation. C’mon…chop, chop!” He clapped his hands.

  I ran my fingers through my hair. “Jake, I—”

  “C’mon. My treat! It’s a full body sea salt scrub and exfoliation and La Massage treatment. After that, Julianne’s going to do a fashion upsweep with that nappy hair of yours. And…” He paused dramatically. “You get a complimentary application of California Sun Kiss makeup. You will look fab-uuuu-lllush in that slinky black dress you bought for tonight!”

  Jake had never been a person who heard the word no. I had no energy to argue. I slipped on a pair of sweat pants, sweat shirt, and shoes.

  Jake stood with his hands on his hips. “Nothing says I don’t care quite as much as sweat suit.” He shook his close-cropped head. “Well, at least yours doesn’t have studs or gobs of cutesy ribbons and playful animals on it. I’ll never understand why women think that looks attractive.”

  “Not everyone is perfect like you.”

  His long face lit up. “Good for me. It improves the contrast. Now, c’mon!”

  “You’re going, too?”

  “Juan is giving me a half-hour massage. Don’t worry, sister-girl. I’m sure it won’t be as magical as one of yours.”

  Three hours later, I emerged from the Regal Health and Beauty Spa with skin as smooth as a baby’s behind, a healthy sun-kissed glow on my face and neck, and a fancy upswept hairdo.

  Piddie whistled when I stepped into our stateroom. “What I wouldn’t give to be your age again! Holston’s gonna trip over his tongue when he sees you tonight. By the way, he’s stopping by to escort you to dinner at 5:45. I’m going out with Jake. We’re joining the Wongs.”

  “Two nights in a row?”

  “You oughta see Paul doing karaoke. Got a little accent, but he’s darn good. His version of Love Me Tender near’bout brought tears to my eyes!”

  “All I have to do is slip on my dress. My makeup and hair are done, and I couldn’t possibly get any cleaner. The salt scrub was heavenly! I sure hope Stephanie adds that in when she gets her skin care specialist license.”

  “I better get started. The older you get, the longer it takes to put on your face—it’s all the fill-in work you have to do.” She cackled and shuffled to the bathroom.

  Clad in a black tux, Holston appeared at my door promptly at 5:45. “For you…” He handed me a single long-stemmed red rose.

  I was still waiting for him to morph into a foul-mouthed, beer-swilling slob. Not that I had him perched on a pedestal—my past experiences with men had left me somewhat doubtful about the gender in general.

  Holston helped me drape the cashmere pashmina around my shoulders. “You look edible in that dress.”

  He nuzzled my neck. It seemed like months since we’d been intimate. Deep inside of my soul, Xena, warrior princess screamed a war whoop.

  How many more days are we going to be on this cruise?

  After posing for formal photographs on the Promenade Deck, we made our way through the milling crowd of evening gowns and tuxedos.

  “I’m grateful you have such good, refined taste,” Holston whispered in my ear. “That woman over there—I’m pretty sure—is wearing an unwashed poodle.”

  A lanky jewel-bedecked lady with a Bride of Frankenstein hairdo sashayed toward us. Her lower body was packed like link pork sausage into a tight black dress that trailed behind her in ragged wisps. Something exotic had lost its life to create the black, shaggy-dog wrap barely covering her ample bosom.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “After seeing her, I feel somewhat underdressed.”

  We spied the family gathered near the entrance to the Court Dining room.

  Jake, Joe, and Bobby were resplendent in their black tuxedos. Evelyn and Piddie wore Evelyn’s custom-made fashions. Leigh wore a simple spaghetti-strapped emerald green formal with a matching shawl.

  “We’re all are beginning to look like we’ve always dressed up fit to kill!” Piddie said. “That black frock fits you like a second skin, Hattie.”

  Jake tapped his black and gold cane on the parquet floor. “You lookin’ fine, sister-girl! Unlike that woman in the mastodon jacket who just went past us. It’s a shame when folks have all that money and no fashion sense.”

  “It’s like readin’ those magazines about the rich and famous. I’m thoroughly convinced that the more money you make, the tackier you dress,” Piddie added.

  The line for the first seating for dinner started to move ahead of us. We were well-appointed cattle on the way to the trough. Tonight’s dinner was the crowning glory of the Regal Queen’s accomplished culinary staff. A roving photographer took a group shot of the family with Piddie, Jake, Evelyn, and Joe seated, with Leigh, Bobby, Holston, and me standing behind them.

  Following the gourmet meal, a loudspeaker announced the arrival of dessert. To the tune of the Macarena song, lines of tuxedoed waiters, holding platters of flaming baked Alaska aloft, snaked through the room. Our dessert waiter stood beside a small sidebar next to our table, where he carved the dessert into serving portions. The creamy frozen dessert with crisp meringue coating was, as Jake so cleverly put it, a mouth orgasm.

  Giorgio pulled Piddie to her feet as the Macarena song started up for the second time. “You will be my partner.”

  “Oh, Lordy! I don’t know how to do this dance,” she said.

  “I will teach you.” Giorgio helped Piddie to balance as he showed her the sequence of motions. “It’s easy once you get it down.”

  Piddie swiveled her hips to the Latin beat. “Whoop-de-do! Look at me!”

  Jake grabbed his cane. “Dance with me, sister-girl. We need to practice so we won’t be a laughing stock at your wedding.”

  Bobby and Leigh and Evelyn and Joe joined us in the aisle. All around the room, people were laughing and dancing beside their tables, both passengers and staff. Piddie threw one of her butterfly hair accessories high into the hair as if she were the queen of the Mexican hat dance.

  Excerpt from Max the Madhatter’s notebook: November 3, 1956

  Nobody gives me any credit. When you are invisible, you can see a lot of things, and no one will ever know you are there.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  HOMEWARD BOUND

  As the last straggling partygoers retired to their staterooms around 1:30 AM, the Regal Queen left Sitka Sound sailing at full cruising speed for Vancouver. The pilot navigated the Dixon Entrance and approached Triple Island about 3:00 AM, where we set a southerly course.

  At 7:00 AM, our group arrived by two’s for the breakfast buffet in the café. On this final day of the trip, I could navigate the ship without consulting the laminated foldout map. I’ve always been directionally challenged. My friends ha
ve often said that the hearse driver at my funeral would make several wrong turns before arriving forty minutes later than the anxiously waiting mourners. Because I stayed hopelessly turned around the first six months I lived in Tallahassee, I had ferreted out every back-street shortcut in town.

  After breakfast, everyone went in different directions. I found my cousin-in-law, Joe, sitting in the sun on Deck 12.

  “Hey,gal! Where’re you heading?” He put his book beside the coffee cup on a plastic table near his chair. “Stop and sit a spell.”

  “I’m just wandering around the boat aimlessly.” I settled on to a lounge chair next to him. “It’s nice today, compared to yesterday.”

  “Yeah. I’m glad of that. I thought I’d sit up here and finish my mystery. It’s due back in the library before 5.”

  I noticed a thin gray booklet. “Is that a copy of the Madhatter’s Guide?”

  “Sure is. I’ve never taken the time to read it. Evelyn keeps me busy with honey-do projects when we’re at home.”

  “It’s pretty interesting, isn’t it? I don’t remember much about Max. Guess I was too young.”

  “He wasn’t one of my patients, so I don’t know a lot about his history. But, after reading some of his journal, I have my doubts the man needed to be incarcerated at a mental institution. His thoughts are too focused…too in depth. But then, many people who suffer mental illnesses have clear thoughts, at times.”

  “Something else I noticed.” Joe flipped the pages to a small sketch of a man. “See this drawing? According to the paragraph above, this is a rendering of Big Sam Blount. He owned the Five and Dime back during the fifties. Notice the way Max drew the little dark bleeding heart on his shirt?”

  “So?”

  “Big Sam died of a massive heart attack not long after the date listed on this page. I remember, because it was pretty soon after Evelyn and I moved into our house.”

  “Weird.”

  “I’m finding more examples of the same sort of thing.”

  “You saying he was some kind of psychic?”

  Joe shook his balding head. “I’m too traditionally trained to jump to any conclusions, right off. It’s just interesting to me at this point.”

  “It’s fun to think there’s magic in the world.”

  “Suppose it is.” Joe smiled. “I guess everyone’s scattered out this morning. I saw Holston and Jake heading down to the gym. Evelyn, Piddie, Leigh, and Bobby are doing some last minute shopping.”

  “Bobby amazes me more every day. I’ve never seen him quite so….domestic.”

  “He’s gonna be a good daddy, I’ll betcha.” Joe shook his head. “I hope we can fit all the souvenirs Evelyn’s bought in our suitcases. She has Alaska sweatshirts for the kids and grandkids.”

  His face clouded over. “She bought an expensive golden pendant in Juneau for Karen. She’ll mail it off to Atlanta next week. It’ll be the same as before—in a couple of weeks, she’ll get a formal letter in the mail to Mrs. Evelyn Fletcher. Sometimes, Karen will keep the gift. Others, she mails right back. I’m sure this one will come back. She won’t accept an expensive gift from folks she claims not to know.”

  “I find it hard to believe that she really thinks she’s from England.”

  Joe sighed heavily. “I’ve been in the mental-health field for over thirty years, and I don’t understand, either. She’s doing quite well for herself. Big house, fancy clothes, and expensive cars. I suppose, as a parent, I should be glad to see my daughter successful.” He stared out of the Sun Deck windows at the forested land masses passing by the boat.

  I reached over and rested my hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Joe.”

  He managed a weak smile. “Well, things’ll work out like they ought to, I suppose. This trip’s been good for all of us. There’s no doubt Piddie’s having the time of her life. I bet she sleeps for a solid week when we get home.”

  “I don’t think I’ll ever forget the sight of her holding up her dress and swiveling around in the dining hall last night. I didn’t know she could still move like that!”

  Joe laughed. “Jake told me she sang a duet with Paul Wong in the Bengal Bar.”

  “Let me guess…You Are My Sunshine?” It had been one of Carlton’s favorites.

  Joe nodded. “Evelyn’s really had a ball, too. I haven’t seen her this relaxed in years. She’s like the girl I married—funny and ready to try anything!” He nodded his head. “I’ve made some decisions on this trip. Life’s too short not to enjoy it! I can put in for my retirement from the state the first of next year. I’m gonna get out as soon as I can, and then I’m taking my wife on a Mediterranean cruise with these Queen Line folks. Jake told me he’d be glad to stay at the house and watch over Piddie. Those two are a little scary together.” He chuckled. “Don’t breathe a word of this to Piddie or Evelyn, now. I want it to be a surprise.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it. You know, I’ve been really impressed with Evelyn’s eveningwear designs. Maybe she can parlay that into a money-making thing. She’s very talented.”

  “Once she got it into her mind to use some color and freed herself up a bit, her creative side just seemed to flower. I know you see your cousin as a strange woman who only lives to go to the beauty parlor and redecorate our house, but I know the real Evelyn, and she’s the apple of my eye.”

  “I think this trip’s colored all of us in a new light,” I said. “Well.” I stood. “I gotta go find Piddie and Evelyn. They wanted to go to the Eye and Neck Care seminar at the Bengal Bar at two. Then, I have to pack. We’re supposed to leave our luggage with the white tags attached in the hall before 8:00 PM, except for the carry-on bags.”

  “All right, gal. I’ll call you if I need someone to help me sit on top of the suitcases to get them closed.”

  The final day aboard the Regal Queen was the most relaxing of the seven-day trip. No schedules had to be met. All souvenirs had been purchased, and we were beginning to long for the familiar surroundings of home.

  Piddie put her hand over Giorgio’s at the end of dinner. “There’s a little somethin’ extra in the tip envelope for you, honey. You’ve been awfully good to this old lady. Put it with what you’ve saved toward that restaurant you want to open one day.”

  Giorgio leaned over and planted a soft kiss on Piddie’s forehead. “You will never be an old lady in my eyes.”

  “You should’ve said that before. It’d doubled the ante!”

  As we slept, the two Canadian pilots who had embarked as we passed Pine Island steered us past Seymour Township, then continued on a southeasterly course in the Strait of George toward Vancouver. At 6:30 AM, we passed under Lions Gate Bridge and entered Vancouver Harbor. By 7:30, the Regal Queen was safely moored alongside Canada Place cruise ship terminal in Vancouver.

  After having the breakfast buffet at the café, we vacated our staterooms and watched from the deck as the passengers disembarked in accordance with the color-coded sequence. The deck was buzzing with activity. Crates of fruit, food, and supplies were loaded on to the ship in preparation for the next batch of excited passengers.

  What had been a seven-day adventure for my family was a repetitive occupation for the crew and staff. Would Glacier Bay appear less grand if you saw it every week for three months of the year? I suppose it was the same thing as the mountain folks from North Carolina heading for Florida’s beaches, while we lowlanders headed for the hills. The beauty around you dims when it becomes commonplace.

  Giorgio appeared by Piddie’s side. “I came to say goodbye.” He flashed a wide, white grin. “I have something for you.” He handed her a small paper bag embossed with the Queen Cruise Lines logo.

  “Ewww!” Piddie squealed with delight.

  “What is it, Mama?” Evelyn hunkered down to peer into the bag.

  Piddie held a miniature plastic replica of the Regal Queen aloft. Looky here! A whole bag of little boats to go in my hair!”

  Evelyn patted her mother on the shoulder. “I’ll have t
o make you a nautical-theme outfit when we get home,” she said with a gleam in her eyes. I knew what the new decorating scheme would be at Evelyn and Joe’s.

  Since our flight to Seattle left at 6:00 PM, we had several hours to loiter in the airport. With our luggage piled around, we napped in shifts until we were allowed to proceed through customs to the Alaskan Airlines gate.

  Following a two-hour layover in Seattle, we boarded the jet for the second, and longest, leg of our return trip. I dearly love to travel by plane, but I’ve never developed the ability to sleep sitting up. The extra two inches you gain by reclining don’t seem to help.

  My consistent companion on every airline trip was some flight-related song that played in an endless loop in my mental CD player. Once, on an early flight to Tampa, the song was Up, Up, and Away. Though I couldn’t recall all of the words, the same verse played over and over. Tonight’s selection featured the words Big Ole’ Jet Airliner with the accompanying electric guitar licks.

  Jake jabbed me and rolled his eyes toward the woman who settled into the window seat behind him and Piddie. Her teased bleached-orange hair hung in thick, stiff hanks over her shoulders. She sported a black sweat suit covered with silver studs and small mirrors in various sizes and shapes. As soon as the unsuspecting seatmate joined her, she began a loud monologue in a gravely voice thick with cigarettes and whiskey.

  Jake scribbled a note and handed it to me across the aisle. Why is it that the one person who’s a non-stop motor mouth with an obnoxious voice always sits close to us? And, did you see the outfit? Looks like she got a stud-setter for Christmas!

  Soon, we were aloft, and the steady drone of the jet engines muffled her conversation. I closed my eyes and dozed slightly, only to awaken with a start as she exaggerated the first word of each barrage of chatter. That! or And! was all I heard, interrupted by an eh-eh-eh-eh cackle of laughter that sounded like a car with a faulty starter.

  Jake passed another note. Mrs. Stud-setter and her husband have been together for nine years. The only channel she lets her brilliant child watch is the Discovery Channel because TV is such trash. Her loving husband brings her coffee in bed every morning.