Dodos

by Al Lamanda

  “But…?” Pogo said.

  “We…” Gilbert said.

  “You…” Godfrey said.

  “Us…” Westland said.

  “Together…” Clipper said.

  Muffie-Jo blew each a kiss, turned and followed Patience out of the bar to the elevators.

  “This was so much fun,” Muffie-Jo said as she pumped her fists.

  “Down girl,” Patience said as she pushed the elevator button.

  The door opened and Muffie-Jo entered the car, followed by Patience. As the door closed, Muffie-Jo said, “Do you know what we are?”

  “Criminals,” Patience said.

  “Just like our husbands,” Muffie-Jo said as the door closed. “And it’s so much fun.”

  NINETEEN

  At the conference table in their suite, while Ian happily ate a late night hour snack of Swedish Moose Meatballs in glazed sauce with a side order of wheat pasta, Gavin read the contents of Pogo’s briefcase.

  Smack…smack…smack…

  Gavin glanced at Ian, who was happily chewing a Swedish meatball.

  On Gavin’s left, Patience and Muffie-Jo giggled about something in Gavin’s bedroom.

  Smack…smack…smack…

  It was all there in the briefcase. Wallace’s goals and objectives for the expedition. Dudley Brown’s leatherbound notebook where he meticulously detailed each hour of each day covering nearly three months.

  Smack…smack…smack…

  Equally detailed were Dudley’s sketches made in pencil, including longitude and latitude of the excavation site, daily progress reports and so on right up until the day of the find. That day…

  Smack…smack…smack…

  Dudley made the discovery of the egg at the bottom on the excavation pit where it wasn’t the night before. Something jarred the egg loose from the wall of the dig, Dudley reasoned and it fell overnight where, miraculously, it landed intact.

  The final entry…

  Slurp…slurp…slurp…

  …was the dinner meeting with Pogo’s team the day after they discovered the egg.

  Slurp…smack…slurp…

  Gavin did a sudden turn and grabbed Ian’s lips. “For the love of God stop doing that,” he said and released Ian’s lips with a quick snap.

  “That hurt…do…what, what am I doing?” Ian said as he rubbed his lips.

  “Existing,” Gavin said. “Now shut up while I read this.”

  Gavin finished Dudley’s notes and opened the second notebook where Pogo started forging details based upon Dudley’s detailed accounts. Gavin flipped back and forth between the two notebooks. “Man isn’t done faking his own notes,” Gavin said. “If he opens the safe and discovers it empty, he’ll know Wallace was behind it.”

  “You want me to put them back?” Ian said.

  “As soon as I photograph each page,” Gavin said. “You got sauce on your chin.”

  Ian wiped his chin with a napkin. “There’s like hundreds of pages here.”

  “So I better get started,” Gavin said. “My digital camera’s in the bedroom.”

  Ian stuck his fork into a meatball, shoved it in his mouth and smacked his lips. After he swallowed, he looked at Gavin. “What?”

  “My camera?”

  “Oh, did you want me to get it?”

  “That would be lovely.”

  Ian stood up and crossed the wide living room to Gavin’s cracked bedroom door. He pushed in the door, entered the bedroom, and froze in his tracks. On the bed, Muffie-Jo lay with her feet nearly behind her ears. Kneeling beside her, Patience held what looked very muck like a turkey baster in her right hand and with that right hand, she made stabbing motions in the air.

  Slowly, Muffie-Jo and Patience turned to look at Ian.

  “What?” Ian said.

  At the conference table, Gavin lost track of time as he continued reading the notebooks and didn’t look up until the camera appeared next to his right hand. “Thank you,” he said.

  “Sure,” Patience said.

  Gavin looked at Patience. “Where’s Ian?”

  Patience used a fork to scoop up a meatball. “He’s busy,” smack, smack, smack.

  “Doing what?” Gavin said.

  From behind the closed bedroom door, Ian cried, “Oh, hey, that really hurts.”

  “Hold still, you big baby,” Muffie-Jo said.

  Gavin looked at Patience. “I don’t want to know.”

  Smack…smack…smack, Patience replied.

  Early the next morning, Gavin and Patience ate breakfast at the conference table while they waited for Ian and Muffie-Jo to emerge from their bedroom.

  “It’s after nine,” Gavin said, impatiently. “Maybe I should go wake them?”

  “Muffie-Jo never gets up before eleven, Lee,” Patience said. “You know that.”

  “It’s Ian I need,” Gavin said.

  The door to Ian’s bedroom suddenly opened.

  Gavin and Patience turned and looked at the open door.

  For ten seconds, nothing happened. Then, Ian’s head slowly appeared, followed by his shoulders, torso and legs. He took a lumbering step as is dragging an anchor, then pitched forward face first to the rug.

  Gavin looked at Patience.

  Patience looked at Ian.

  From the rug, Ian looked at Gavin and Patience.

  “Problem?” Patience said.

  “My leg,” Ian said. “It’s paralyzed. That damn turkey baster.”

  “What’s he talking about, P?” Gavin said.

  “Help me get him onto the sofa,” Patience said.

  “No problem,” Gavin said.

  Gavin stood up, walked to Ian, grabbed Ian’s tee shirt by the right hand, his pajama bottoms by the left, lifted, ignored Ian’s cries of pain and hurled him onto the sofa.

  “I had something a little more delicate in mind,” Patience said.

  “Call me when he’s fixed,” Gavin said and returned to his breakfast.

  Patience went to Ian. “What’s wrong?”

  “My leg,” Ian said. “My left leg.”

  Patience felt Ian’s left hamstring. “Here?”

  “Yes, yes and yes,” Ian winced.

  “Oh boy, it’s knotted up pretty good,” Patience said as she rubbed the muscle.

  “I’m not surprised,” Ian said. “I’m not a human pretzel, you know.”

  Gavin returned. “What the hell is he talking about? Ian, get up. We have work to do. Those notebooks need to be replaced.”

  “I can’t walk, Lee,” Ian said. “You’ll have to do it.”

  “Oh, for…P, you did this,” Gavin said. “Fix him.”

  “What’s all the noise about?” Muffie-Jo said in a sleepy voice from behind Gavin.

  “Keep her away from me!” Ian cried.

  “Ian, calm down,” Patience said. “It’s just a pulled muscle.”

  Ian pointed at Muffie-Jo. “Monster!” he cried.

  “What the hell’s going on?” Gavin said.

  “Well, if nobody needs me, I’m going back to bed,” Muffie-Jo said. “I need my thirteen or I can’t function.”

  “Stop,” Gavin said to Muffie-Jo. “Fix him and right now,” Gavin said to Patience.

  Patience grabbed Ian’s left leg and raised it toward his chest.

  Ian made noises like an alley cat in heat.

  “Stop,” Gavin said. “I said fix him, not neuter him.”

  “This calls for drastic measures,” Patience said. “Muffie-Jo, my purse.”

  Muffie-Jo grabbed the tan purse off the table and gave it to Patience, who immediately dipped inside it for a small plastic pillbox. “Water,” Patience said.

  Gavin and Muffie-Jo looked at each other. “Us?” Gavin said.

  “If it takes two of you to bring one glass of water, fine,” Patience said.

  “I’ll get it,” Gavin said.

  “And I’ll go back to bed,” Muffie-Jo said.

  Gavin went for the water and gave it to Patience. She removed tw
o pills from the box and gave them to Ian. “Take these, you’ll feel better,” she said.

  “How long?” Gavin said.

  “You’ll know,” Patience said. “Now, I’m going to take a shower. Keep an eye on him for a few minutes.”

  Alone at the conference table, Gavin filled his mug with coffee and flipped through his notes. A peaceful ten minutes passed before Ian started to giggle softly to himself.

  Gavin looked at Ian. “What?”

  “Oh, hey, wheeeeee,” Ian giggled. “Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy.”

  “What are you babbling about?” Gavin said.

  Ian giggled, rolled and fell off the sofa.

  “For crying out loud,” Gavin said and stood up.

  “Boy, oh boy, oh boy, oh boy,” Ian giggled.

  “Stop saying that,” Gavin said.

  Ian rolled over, attempted to stand and slid back to the rug as if made of jelly.

  “Ian, we got a job to do,” Gavin said.

  Ian got on all fours like a dog and looked up at Gavin. “I’m ready Teddy, ready as Freddy,” he said, giggling.

  “P!” Gavin yelled.

  From behind Gavin, wrapped in a robe, Patience said, “What?”

  “What do you mean what?” Gavin said. “Look.”

  Patience looked at Ian.

  Ian looked at Patience.

  “Hey, sis,” Ian said. “Hop on; I’ll take you for a ride.”

  “Oh, dear,” Patience said.

  “Oh dear what?” Gavin said.

  “I probably shouldn’t have given him two,” Patience said.

  “Two?”

  “Valium,” Patience said. “It works so well on you for your fear of flying, but it’s also a really powerful muscle relaxant.”

  Ian’s arms gave out and his face slammed into the rug.

  “You think?” Gavin said.

  “Put him on the sofa.”

  Gavin grabbed Ian by the back of his tee shirt and lifted him to the sofa. Ian immediately slid back to the floor.

  “So he’s Gumby now?” Gavin said.

  “I love Gumby,” Ian chirped. “And his sidekick Pokey, but those evil Blockheads were a real pain in…”

  “Later,” Gavin said. “P. how long is this going to last?”

  “How come Gumby was green, but the Blockheads were red?” Ian said.

  “It shouldn’t be that long,” Patience said.

  “Always causing trouble, those Blockheads,” Ian said.

  “Maybe eight hours?” Patience said.

  “This one time they tried to steal Pokey and…”

  Gavin put his foot on Ian’s back and shoved his face into the rug. “We have to go home first thing in the morning, P,” Gavin said. “I need Ian right now.”

  “Pokey reporting for duty, sir,” Ian giggled into the rug.

  “I’m afraid there’s nothing to do except wait,” Patience said.

  “Wait!” Gavin snarled. A purple vein started to pulsate on his neck. Another rope like vein stood out on his forehead. His neck tightened up like a coiled spring.

  “Your head is going to explode,” Patience said. “Go sit down and relax. I’ll see what I can do.”

  Gavin went and sat at the conference table to brood for a while. The problem wasn’t that he couldn’t return the notebooks himself. He knew that he could. The problem was he wasn’t stealth. He stuck out like a sore thumb. He would be remembered by any and everyone who cast him a casual glance. He had the kind of face you crossed the street to avoid looking at and if you did you tended to remember.

  Now, if he had a diversion of some kind, something to direct attention to, he could slip in, return the books and slip out.

  “Lee, I don’t think…” Patience said.

  “Later,” Gavin said and stood up. He entered Ian’s bedroom, clicked on the lights and looked at Muffie-Jo. She was sound asleep, wearing a blue facemask.

  “Hey, sleeping beauty, I need you to wake up,” Gavin said.

  Muffie-Jo snoozed right along.

  Gavin threw his hands in the air. “Margaret-Josephine, get up!” he said, loudly.

  “What are you doing?” Patience said as she entered the room.

  “Trying to wake sleeping beauty here.”

  “Why?”

  “Ian can’t go with me, but she can.”

  “I think she sleeps seventeen hours a day like a house cat,” Patience said.

  Gavin shook the bed. “Hey, house cat, wake up.”

  Muffie-Jo rolled over and continued to snooze.

  Patience took Muffie-Jo nose in her right fingers, her lips in the left and squeezed. After a few seconds, Muffie-Jo started to fidget. Then she gasped, struggled, sat up and sucked air when Patience released her grip.

  “What’s the big idea?” Muffie-Jo said as she removed the mask, revealing a slice of cucumber over each eye.

  “Lee needs you to wake up,” Patience said.

  “Is that cucumber?” Gavin said.

  “So my eyes don’t get puffy from sleeping too much,” Muffie-Jo said as she removed the cucumber slices.

  “It hasn’t occurred to you not to sleep too much, has it?” Patience said.

  “Well, I’m awake now, what do you want?”

  “How would you feel about going to work as a chambermaid?” Gavin said.

  In the utility closet on the eleventh floor of the Hotel Stockholm, Gavin kept watch through the little window in the door while Muffie-Jo changed into the stolen maid’s uniform.

  “I feel so dowdy,” Muffie-Jo said.

  “You look fine,” Gavin said as he turned around.

  “Maybe if I had time to accessorize.”

  “You don’t need accessories to clean toilets.”

  “You said all I had to do was open the door,” Muffie-Jo said. “You never said anything about toilets.”

  “No, not…forget it,” Gavin said. “What are you going to do, what are you going to say?”

  “I knock on the door and say…wait, where are my props?”

  Gavin sighed and handed Muffie-Jo two hotel towels, which she slung over her left arm.

  “I knock,” Muffie-Jo said and raised her right fist as if to knock. “And I say…wait, I made notes.”

  “Notes? All you have to say is…”

  Muffie-Jo held up a tiny slip of paper and said, “Housekeeping. I brought your extra towels.”

  “Okay, good,” Gavin said. “Then what?”

  “I use the card to open the door,” Muffie-Jo said and made a sliding gesture with her hand. “I go in and leave the door cracked for you.”

  “Very good,” Gavin said. “Are you ready?”

  Muffie-Jo nodded. “I don’t look too dowdy though, do I?”

  “You look fine,” Gavin said. “Now go and I’ll make sure Ian buys you something extra special.”

  “Really?” Muffie-Jo beamed.

  “Seeing as how you’re doing his job, it’s the least he can do. Now go.”

  “Tee hee,” Muffie-Jo said as she opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. She took a few steps, paused and turned around and looked at Gavin through the tiny window in the door.

  Gavin cracked the door. “Room 1511.”

  “Got it,” Muffie-Jo nodded.

  Gavin closed the door.

  Armed with two towels and the master cardkey, Muffie-Jo walked to room 1511 and politely knocked. She opened her mouth; nothing came out, closed her mouth and pulled out her notes. “Housekeeping,” she announced. “I brought your extra towels.”

  Muffie-Jo looked to her right, then to her left. The coat was clear or whatever people said when no one was around. She slid the cardkey into the slot, waited for the little light to turn green, waited some more and waited even some more, but nothing happened.

  Muffie-Jo removed the cardkey, looked at it, reversed it and returned it to the slot. The light went green, the lock clicked and she pushed in the door. The room was dark. Lee was right. They were all at the museum. She slowly entere
d the room, felt for a wall switch and flicked it on.

  “Wow,” Muffie-Jo said as the door closed and locked behind her. This was the most beautiful hotel suit she’d ever been in, beating hers hands down. Holding the towels, she entered the bathroom where she uttered “Wow” a second time at the sight of the deep-set, Jacuzzi bathtub, brass and gold fixtures.

  From the bathroom, Muffie-Jo checked out the master bedroom, second bedroom, dining room, library and entertainment room. Only when she heard Gavin hissing and ranting behind the closed, locked door did she remember Gavin at all and she went to the door to open it.

  Gavin came flying in and landed at her feet. “Muffie-Jo, you were…”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes, what?” Gavin said as he stood up.

  “You said, Muffie-Jo. I assume you were asking me a question.”

  “I was asking you a question.”

  “Well, what is it?”

  “You were supposed to let me in.”

  “I did let you in.”

  “No wonder you and Ian get along so well,” Gavin said.

  “It’s because we’re…”

  “Later,” Gavin said and rushed to the master bedroom where he found the room safe inside the bottom shelf of the entertainment center. Thankfully, Ian was able to remember the combination to the safe, which Pogo programmed as his birthday, surprise, surprise and he replaced the notebooks.

  “That’s it, let’s go,” Gavin said to Muffie-Jo when he entered the living room.

  “Can I keep these towels as a souvenir of my ever first B and B?” Muffie-Jo said.

  “Sure, right,” Gavin said. “Your first ever B and B.”

  Ian was sound asleep on the rug beside the sofa when Gavin and Muffie-Jo returned to the hotel suit. His face on the rug, his butt high in the air, Ian oblivious to his awkward and very uncomfortable position.

  “He looks so cute,” Muffie-Jo said as she set the bag containing her clothes on the conference table. “Like a little dog.”

  Patience was reading a magazine on the sofa, reached down to pat Ian on the head. “Man’s best friend,” she said.

  “What man?” Muffie-Jo said.

  Patience looked at Muffie-Jo. “I was being…”

  “Later,” Gavin said. “How long is he going to be like this? We have to travel tomorrow.”

  “A few more hours,” Patience said. “He’ll be fine to fly.”