Koko had reacted to them with a half-growl, but that was not unusual. Whenever a finger was pointed at him, he resented it. Compliments were graciously accepted, but there was something about a pointing finger that insulted his feline sensibilities. . . . Cats! Who could understand them!
Sunday noon Qwilleran and Polly drove to the Top o’ the Dunes Club to have brunch with the Rikers, their best friends. Arch was the somewhat paunchy editor-in-chief of the newspaper; Mildred was the plumply pretty editor of the food page. It was a late marriage for them, both having survived domestic disasters.
The club was simply a row of cottages overlooking a hundred miles of blue water and bearing names like “Sunny Daze” and “Many Pines” and “No Oaks.” The Riker cottage was bright yellow with black shutters and a broad deck cantilevered over the slope of the dune. On the wide top rail of the deck sat Toulouse, a fluffy black-and-white stray who had wandered into Mildred’s life. Qwilleran, upon arrival, always stroked Toulouse and told him he was a handsome brute.
Polly said, “He’s always the epitome of contentment!”
“He should be!” Qwilleran said. “He was a dirty, half-starved stray when he moved in with the food writer of the
Then the Comptons arrived via the beach and climbed the sand-ladder up the slope of the dune. Lyle had been school superintendent for twenty years, and his forays with teachers, parents, and the school board had given him a professional scowl, although it masked a good sense of humor.
His nickname in the school system was Scrooge. The name of their cottage was “Bah! Humbug!”
Lisa had retired from school administration with the sunny optimism of a Campbell whose ancestors had founded Brrr two hundred years before.
It was a balmy June day—the sunshine gentle, the breezes soft, the temperature just right, so aperitifs were served on the open deck overlooking the lake.
Lisa said, “Oh, Qwill! Aren’t we going to have any more of Cool Koko’s wisdom? It was so much fun.”
He said, “I’m hoping that readers will be inspired to invent their own Kokoisms. I’ve got to go on to other things.”
“Such as what?” Lyle asked.
“Such as a script for a one-man show on the Great Storm of 1913—for the Brrr anniversary. Thornton Haggis has done the research. The format will be similar to ‘The Big Burning.’ And Gary Pratt has recommended Mrs. Carroll’s granddaughter, Alicia Carroll, to handle the sound effects.” He waited for a reaction.
“Is she back in town?” Mildred asked in surprise. “I talked to Mrs. Carroll after church this morning; she’s moving to Ittibittiwassee Estates.”
Lyle asked, “What will happen to Little Mount Vernon?”
Lisa said, “Let’s hope she’ll leave it to the town for a historical museum.”
“I’m sure Alicia wouldn’t want it,” Mildred said. “She has a career Down Below—in Milwaukee, I think—”
Lyle interrupted, “As Cool Koko would say,
Mildred went on hesitantly, “Don’t mention this, but Alicia travels with a young man—supposed to be her ‘driver’ because Alicia has some kind of heart problem. Anyway, the idea doesn’t set too well with her grandmother.”
Lisa said, “I was assistant principal when Alicia came to live with her grandmother, after a family tragedy. She was not only an all-A student, but she came up with good ideas. The school was always trying to raise money for band instruments or a trip to the nation’s capital—by selling cookies or Christmas cards. Alicia suggested lotteries, which were very successful, although everyone said she skimmed a little off the top.”
Polly said, “That reminds me, she used to bring homework assignments to the library and noticed that we were trying to raise money for new carpet by asking patrons to put money in a jar. Alicia came to me and suggested a lottery, and I told her I’d have to consult the board of directors. When the Dear Ladies learned that it meant gambling, they said, ‘Horrors!’ and got out their checkbooks to cover the cost of the carpet.”
Qwilleran said, “A little horror can be a useful thing!”
“Who said that?” Riker asked. “Ben Franklin or Cool Koko?”
At one point Qwilleran remarked, “I heard, the other day, that the entire wild turkey population of Moose County disappeared thirty years ago. What was that all about?”
There was a swift glance between the Comptons, then Lyle said, “Disease. Wiped out the entire flock. It’s the kind of thing that happens in the animal world. It’ll happen to us if we don’t recognize the danger of impure water and polluted atmosphere.”
There was a moment’s silence until Arch asked, “Who’s ready for another drink?”
