Thoughts from Mark "Hat" Rackley

I’m Lieutenant Deviled Yeggs.  I work homicide in the big city of Tracy.  Working for me are my old partners: Detective Sgt. Jim Wednesday and Detective Poached Yeggs, my nephew who is slowly becoming a good detective.

I have been “partnered” with my daughter Sophia in the past, but she is on suspension by orders of Captain Hart and grounded by me.  But her story that follows is her doing some surveillance that did not involve police procedures, just her protecting what she thought were her people.  The first person account comes from Sophia Yeggs as follows:

Blaise and I are back in school.  Only a few people know that we are officers in “Design by Tensie.”  Those few are sworn to secrecy until we are older and people might take us seriously.  One of the people in the know is the self-appointed sidekick for my investigations, now on hiatus due to my wrong doing this summer.  My sidekick is also Blaise’s girlfriend, Margie (Margarette Justice), and now that we are back in school, she worked out a deal with her father and Aunt Pink to come to the greenhouse and swim after school if she had her homework done.  Again, she and Blaise registered for classes at the same time and are taking the exact same schedule, except Blaise goes to study hall while Margie has physical education.  In the Spring, Blaise is trying out for track and field while Margie will be on the softball team.  Blaise is on an engineering prep schedule for his classes, and Margie thinks that if Blaise can do it, she can too.  She has never said what she wants to do with her life, other than play softball as long as her body holds up and marry Blaise at the earliest moment allowed by both sets of parents.  Odd, Blaise has never proposed.

But while Margie was out swimming, I was taking stock of my summer.  Last summer, I spent the entire summer working cold cases in my Dad’s office.  I had so much fun, and we closed a lot of them.  But at the start of this summer, I threatened to tell a lie that Poached could not prove was a lie in order to get him to cut corners on an investigation.  I wore a wire.  I put myself in a small room with the person who had already committed murder once.  And I got lucky.  The girl was charged with first-degree murder, but it was downgraded to manslaughter and then she got a nice plea deal.  Even the victim’s parents accepted it graciously.  The girl who had murdered her boyfriend in a fit of rage would be able to attend college, first ever in her impoverished family, just delayed by one semester.  After I had closed the case, I felt sorry for her.  She had started from nowhere.  Her boyfriend motivated her to excellence and then when she found out that he did not reciprocate her feelings and he was not faithful, she killed him with her bare hands.  I doubted that I could do the same if Emmett Dalton did that to me, but for one, I have a lot going for me and I could walk away.  And, two, my Emmett would never do that.

But as I thought about all that, I felt such shame for screwing up my summer by that one event.  Daddy grounded me and after more acts of rebellion, I have been massaging the feet of Mommy and Daddy all summer and that part of my discipline may last until Christmas.  Remind myself to never talk back, and not in that tone.  But Daddy, when you read this, I’m sorry.  I understand what I did wrong.  This was a hard lesson, but I have learned from it.  Then again, I think you and Mommy are finding any excuse possible to extend the foot massages because you like them.  Forget I said that!  I did not mean any disrespect!  Please, forget it!!!

But I have spent all summer working with Aunt Tensie (nee Hortense Tesla, my Mom’s great aunt, or is it great great?), who I love a lot.  She and I talk, and she tells stories while Blaise does most of the work.  Aunt Tensie seems to have been everywhere.  Then again, she’s had a hundred years to do it.  My contribution, according to Aunt Tensie is to ask Blaise stupid questions.  My secondary function is to make Blaise’s designs prettier, add some artistic flair.

As I was thinking about all that, Blaise growled, “This thing does not work!  You turn the motor on and it doesn’t do its thing!  We have a deadline, and time is running out!  Work, you stupid gadget, WORK!”

I asked, “Blaise?  Shouldn’t this thingy be better on the other side?”

Blaise stared at me with venom in his voice, “And have you run the calculations on that?  No!  I have run them three times.  Jim Kaiser has run them twice.  It should work!”  He then took a deep breath.  “But, I see what you mean.  It would be a bit more efficient on the other side.  It would look nicer.  It would even be easier to maintain …  That is if IT WORKED!!”

I shrugged, “Sorry I asked.  Wow!  You are a pill today.”

Blaise growled, but he said nothing more.

That was when a dripping wet Margie entered the room.

“Blaise, sweetie, I need a kiss.” She said.

“Sorry, Marge, too busy.  My latest design is not working.  I have a deadline.”  He never looked up from his work.

Marge snorted, “You aren’t even a teenager yet and you are sounding like an old man.  A kiss takes no time at all!”

Blaise set down the device.  He leaned over and gave her a peck on the cheek.

Marge yelled, “No, sir!  No peck on the cheek!  On the lippies!  The Lippies!  A kiss on the LIP-PIES!!”

Blaise had turned to his printed calculations, but he put them down.  He faced Margie and he planted a two-second kiss on her lips.

Margie sputtered, “That’s it!  Just a second, and you are done?  No tongue?!  I was there when Soapy got the longest kiss I have ever seen.  The internet calls it ‘The Kiss.’  I know we can do better.  Come on, Blaise, fire up the blaze inside you and plant a good one, Sweetie!”

“Marge!  I have this project and it needs to work within the next couple of days.  I do not have the time for this.  I’ll do more than a nice lengthy kiss later, but this thing has to start working, and now!”

Marge huffed in anger.  There was fire in her eyes.  Her voice started getting a gravelly tone, “Well!  If you won’t kiss me, I know someone who gives great kisses!”  She turned and walked toward the door.  “Now, where did I see that big luscious hunk, Emmett Dalton!”

I shouted, “No you don’t! He’s mine!”

Margie did not even turn around.  She said, “Don’t worry, Soap.  It’s just a kiss.  It’s not like we’re getting naked or anything.  Then again, loosen two of these bikini straps and the party can get started!”  With that, she started running.

In shock, I looked toward Aunt Tensie.  She was doing all she could to keep from laughing, but she waved with one hand for me to ‘protect what is mine.’

Emmett had convinced me that I looked good in pink.  I was starting to like the color.  I wore pink coveralls, in case we had an accident in the lab, something like oil or water spraying from a fitting that Blaise did not install properly, not that he ever did that … more than once each week.  Pink in a jungle of greenery meant my surveillance had to be from a distance.  I knew Emmett was working on a science experiment that was hopefully resolve some of Jochebed’s problems.  Rare plant life that she used in many of her witch doctor remedies (minus the witch doctor part) could only grow in tropical climates.  Zuzka has tried to isolate one area high in the greenhouse, near the peak of the glass mountain, just for this special climate.  But some of the herbs and rare plants did better with higher humidity, others with lower humidity.  Emmett was logging leaf size and plant growth versus humidity, temperature, and other factors, like guessing as to how much sunlight they get.  You know, shady environment, sunny environment, or sun only in the morning or evening.  Jochebed only knew what she needed, not how to help it grow.  Emmett’s parents used everything they got from the people who were already experimenting on the plants.  Now with Emmett’s data, they can shift one plant species to the most advantageous part of their African jungle to maximize growth.

With knowing that, I knew I could sit on the far side of the swimming pool and see Emmett and Margie through a spyglass that safety people and security people used to check on activities among the catwalks that worked like a maze as you climbed the structure.  With Margie getting lost a couple of times, I had plenty of time to get to my vantage point.  The cider house was at my back with plenty of ladies in pink coveralls coming and going.  Like Missy has said a few times, watching the color monitors at shift change was like someone pouring out a bottle of the pink stuff, pink going in all directions at the same time.  It sometimes leaves you wanting a swig of the pink stuff.

And to my surprise, when I got to the bleachers to sit and spy on my boyfriend, I saw Missy.  She was playing something, and it sounded like a moose call, but it was musical.

I asked, “What are you playing?”

Missy said, “This is a chanter for the bagpipes.  You have started school already, but I start in a couple of weeks.  I am trying to figure out this chanter before I start.  I want to be the teacher’s pet.  Well, I already am the teacher’s ‘pet,’ but I want to at least be able to play something simple on this thing.”

I asked, “Do you and Angus do a lot of petting, Miss Teacher’s Pet?”

Missy huffed, “Mind your manners, little one.  I do not kiss and tell, but to be honest, I still have no idea what he wears under the kilt, at least firsthand experience.  We have done a lot of kissing, and his hands roam a little until I tell him to stop.  So, if you are here as part of the moral police, I am self-policing quite well.  But I am taking two classes that he is teaching, beginner bagpipes and Scottish culture.  I am taking a Scottish history class and Scottish highland dancing.  Angus provides the live music, but a dancer from the performing arts department is providing the actual instruction.  Angus and I have joined the Highlander Club in Tracy.  My dark skin gets a few stares, but then when we went for a little lesson on highland folk dancing, everyone wanted to be my partner since Angus was playing.  I had a wonderful time, and I want to know as much about his heritage as I can.  I’m also taking a math class and I may need a little help with the last one, freshman chemistry.  I have a full load and Mama Pink is letting me work my schedule around everything.”

“Mama Pink?” I laughed, “Is that what you call Aunt Pink?”

Missy groaned, “I get so nervous talking to her.  She’s the big boss and for some reason, she has taken interest in me.  I’m even more motivated to be the best employee that I can be to make her proud of me.“ Then she said something in a foreign language, probably Scottish Gaelic, since I had heard her and Angus saying a few things.  Then she said, “But Mama Pink is the closest thing I have ever seen to what I think a mother should be.  Besides, she has her hands full with her little ones, Kanok is starting to walk, and Joon is still on breast milk.  So, he stays with Jochebed half the time.  ‘Mama Pink,’ as a name, is starting to catch on among the cider house workers too.  But, as your Mom away from Mom, I see you have stolen the spyglass.  What if a security person or a safety person needed it about now?”

“Please tell my folks that I borrowed it with permission.  After all, I am sitting next to a security supervisor, and I cannot afford any more extensions on my foot massaging.  With my recent slips of the tongue, I will be massaging Mom and Dad’s feet on Christmas.  Please, I need a break!”

Missy snickered, “Your secret is safe with me.  I guess I am the lenient Mom away from Mom.  Who are you spying on, as if I didn’t know?”

“Emmett, of course.”  I finally saw Margie approach him.  “Margie is wanting a romantic kiss and Blaise is busy trying to get our latest gadget to work.  She said she was going to get her kiss from Emmett, and she even talked about taking her clothes off.  I doubt if she will strip in such a public place, but you never can tell.  And from what I see, Margie is waving her hands frantically and Emmett is just shrugging his shoulders and shaking his head.  Good boy, Em, stay true to me.”

Missy tried in vain to stifle a laugh.  “You are too much, little one.  Is she giving up?”

I replied, “Yep, she is on her way back down.  And Emmett must have spotted me.  He turned in our direction, smiled, and gave me a thumbs up.  Oh, Missy, I heard that you are a grandmother.  Aren’t you and Poached about the same age?”

“Yes, child,” Missy said.  “We come from two different worlds, but I now have been refined by fire.  That other world has been left behind.”

Missy kept talking about Angus and about her first time in full-time school since she was in the eighth grade.  I talked about the dualling music in the greenhouse at times, with Angus playing bagpipes in one corner and Emmett practicing his saxophone in the opposite corner.  I told her that Aunt Pink was thinking of getting some sound rooms, so people could practice their music without making so much noise in the greenhouse, but then, most people liked the music.  Missy suggested she could use the sound room until she had figured out the bagpipes.  She thought she sounded awful, but I gave her a compliment for her moose call imitations.  Then, Margie suddenly appeared, and she dove into the pool.  She looked to be so hot from her emotional outburst that it seemed steam was coming off her body as she swam laps.

I gave Missy a big hug and went back to the lab.  I learned later that Aunt Tensie and Blaise had a little conversation while I was gone.  Here is the little I know about it.

Aunt Tensie was thinking of a variety of disorders that could cause Margie to be over affectionate.  She did not think Margie had Sensory Processing Disorder.  She did not have all the signs.  It may just be her hormones are out of balance.  In some mild cases, a chocolate might calm her down a bit.  Aunt Tensie then pulled out a box of chocolates that she had in a cabinet drawer.  Okay, the cabinet drawer was filled with chocolates.  Aunt Tensie allowed herself one each day, and she did not get out much, so she had stocked up.  They also made great gifts when she could not think of anything else, at least the unopened boxes.  That bit of information is important for what came next.  But she also told Blaise that when he is stuck, a distraction like kissing his girlfriend might cause a reset within his brain so that he could start thinking outside the problem he had and get to a solution.

I came back into the lab and they gave me nods, but said nothing.  Blaise was trying my idea, even though he was convinced it would still not work.

Then Marge came in.  She said, “Blaise Yeggs, you will kiss me or there is going to be trouble!”

Blaise sheepishly picked up the box of chocolates, “Chocolate?”

Marge said, “No!  Kiss!”

They embraced, and it was a rather awkward, even ferocious kiss.  Then Marge backed away.  “You little rat!  In the middle of our tongues doing their thing, you slipped a chocolate into my mouth.”

“Did you like the chocolate?”

“Yeah, it was my favorite, but I want a kiss.”  They went after each other like a lion after the kill.  A few seconds later, Marge pulled away again.  “You rotten little rat!  You did it again.  Two can play this game.”

Another brief kiss, and Marge screamed.  “You did it three times!  What has gotten into you about chocolates?”

Blaise gave her a hug.  “Marge, sometimes when you don’t feel quite right, a chocolate isn’t bad for you.  It can calm you down.  And you exercise enough so that you can afford a couple of chocolates.”

Marge replied, “But I wanted you spending time with me.  I wanted some kissing.  I wanted some ‘us’ time.  We need to sit down right now and get some ground rules straight.  I need time with you.  It cannot always be your gadgets. …”  Blaise seemed to hug a little harder.  Suddenly, Marge was no longer arguing.  She was asleep.  Blaise carried her to a nearby cot left over from when we stayed with Aunt Tensie.

What I just saw was repulsive as well as scary.  Blaise isn’t even a teenager yet and he is French kissing his girlfriend?!  Really?!  Yuck!!  And then, in the middle of an argument that Blaise knows he needs to deal with, he gives her the sleep-inducing bear hug to avoid the argument.  If they ever get married, that only works for a little while and then POW!

Marge started to stir.  She got up from the cot and came over to Blaise and kissed him again.  Again, another chocolate in her mouth.  After ranting about the chocolate, she said that she was not leaving until they talked about their little problem.  Blaise hugged her first, and she was asleep again.  This might go on all night.

But when she awoke the next time, Blaise said that they had just spent the last hour together, kissing, and Marge talking.  Then he said, “Besides, the little gadget is working.  I forgot that we designed it with oil in mind, but then we used water in the scaled down prototype, different fluid properties.  We did not make that adjustment, but with Sophie’s suggestion, it was efficient enough even with the wrong fluid.”

Then Blaise walked over to me.  He cupped his hand on either side of my neck and he kissed me on the lips.  “Thanks, Sis.”

I replied, “You kissed me on the lips!  I know where those lips have been!  At least you didn’t do the tongue thing!  Dog germs!  Dog germs!  I need to wash out my mouth!  My own little brother kissed me on the lips!!”

About that time, Emmett came into the lab.  I ran past him in search of mouthwash.

“What’s wrong with her?” Emmett asked, but everyone else was too busy laughing.

Credits

Marge’s rant about a kiss on the “lippies” is my wife in her purest state.  She would say just about the same thing every time I was distracted on a project.  Our romance was always top drawer, worthy of classic fiction.  And if Jane Austen, Louisa May Alcott, or any of the Bronte ladies failed to use a rant involving “lippies?”  Well, is it not obvious?  ‘Tis they who did not do it right.

The idea of Sensory Processing Disorder and a few other disorders are treatable, but in this case, it was just a teenager in love and feeling neglected.  Chocolates work, but a high caloric substitute for a little affection.  And yes, they need to talk about it.  Blaise seems to be a driven person that focuses on deadlines.  There needs to be balance.

And the idea about “dog germs” comes from an old classic Charlie Brown TV special when Lucy begs Schroeder for a kiss and gets a kiss from Snoopy instead.