Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, and I make no money from this work of fiction!
South Sea Island Sweetheart MISSING SCENE
"Nanny, come here ... you have to see this!" the Professor beckoned to Nanny and she hurried to his office window.
Leaning on the windowsill, the two watched Nanny's Uncle Horace lie in the hammock while his sweetheart Luana rocked and fanned him. When she asked him if he wanted fruit, and Uncle Horace picked a banana and handed it to her to peel, adding she was to make sure she got off all the stringy pieces, Nanny made a disgusted noise in her throat.
The Professor chuckled. "Certainly makes one wonder ..." he began.
"Does indeed." Nanny said in a clipped voice.
"Whether she has a sister!" he teased, knowing Nanny wouldn't leave that one alone.
"Professor! A woman who doesn't know any better than to go around peeling somebody else's bananas ... hardly the basis for a happy marriage!" she took his bait, tossing her head in disdain.
"Maybe on Ninee Houee," he grinned at her, privately thinking she looked stunning with her eyes flashing indignation. "And as someone we both know so often says, 'Things have a way of working out for the best!'"
"Yes, happily that's true, Professor. I expect to see an important change of events very soon!" Nanny straightened up and nodded emphatically at him, then shut the window with a bang. "And not a moment too soon for Uncle Horace, either!"
"Oh? You have some top secret information?" he queried. "And if you don't mind," he indicated the window, miming opening it again. "It's very warm in here, and Luana's sister isn't around, nor anyone else willing to fan me ... unless you ...?"
"Professor Everett!" she spoke severely, but now her eyes were beginning to twinkle. "I am most certain that was not in my job description! Allow me." and she opened the window again. "But you might want to move your papers on this table here," she added, "as the weather is likely to change very quickly." She eyed Luana who had snatched up the rainmaking rattle and begun to perform the rainmaking dance.
The professor, already engrossed in a book at his desk, paid no attention to her as Nanny glanced up at the sky, smiled a secret little smile, then quietly left the room.
Later, after the excitement of the torrential rain had died away, Luana departed in great indignation, sporting her 'Woman Power' button which was a gift from Mrs. Fowler and her friends. The well-meaning ladies had been as horrified at the sight of Luana waiting on Uncle Horace as Nanny had, and had taken it upon themselves to educate her in the meaning of feminism. No longer was Luana prepared to wait for Uncle Horace to buy her as a wife and slave. Upon his return from the TV station that afternoon, she had snatched the thousand dollars from his hand, knowing the money was rightfully hers as the one who had made the much-needed rain fall, and she had returned to the South Seas.
While Nanny went upstairs with the children to get them settled into bed, Uncle Horace trailed the Professor into his study and watched as the younger man mopped up the rain which had come in the open window, waving the wet papers in the air in hopes that they would dry. "She TOLD me to move the papers or shut the window!" the Professor muttered.
"Look here, Professor, are you talking about my Phoebe?"
"Who else?" the Professor blotted the final paper, and laid them all out singly on the carpet to dry. "Say," he looked up suddenly. "Uncle Horace, may I ask you a couple of questions?"
"Ask away," Uncle Horace waved his hand and sank into a chair despondently. "I might even answer them."
"What can you tell me about Nanny?"
"You want to know about Phoebe?" Uncle Horace sat up, coughing. "Well, now, I don't know about THAT ..."
"Do you know her Uncle Alfred? The Human Fly?" the Professor switched topics, seeing that he might not get all of his questions answered, but still hoping to have SOME mysteries cleared up.
Uncle Horace chuckled and subsided. "Doesn't everyone? Looked me up when he got to the South Seas, he did. Told me he'd been here. That's why I came early. Phoebe's family is understandably curious about you, Professor."
"About ME?"
"'Sright. She's not been known to stay too long in one place before ..."
The Professor pulled his chair closer. This was the sort of thing he had been hoping to find out! "Tell me, Uncle Horace ..."
Just then, Nanny's voice came floating down the stairs, "Uncle Horace? Are you coming up to say good night to the children?"
Uncle Horace stood up. "Should've known better than to talk about her!"
"Wait ... before you go ... about Uncle Alfred? He DID do the Human Fly, didn't he?"
"Not for years, Professor. Said he was supposed to do it here, but at the last minute, his costume went missing, and someone locked him in so he couldn't get out in time for his performance. But he heard the clapping, so SOMEONE took his place. I leave it to you, Professor, to decide who it was. Just let me say that Phoebe will do anything to help someone in need ... and he was in need. His arthritis was acting up that bad. It's no wonder he headed for the warmth of the South Sea Islands! That climbing buildings can be injurious to your health! Wouldn't catch ME doing it! I don't suppose you noticed Phoebe with any extra aches and pains the next day?"
The Professor thought back. Come to think of it, Nanny HAD complained of a back ache ... "Are you saying NANNY climbed that tower?" he asked, incredulously.
Just then, Nanny appeared at the door of the office. "There are three children upstairs waiting to say goodnight, gentlemen." The Professor shot Uncle Horace a conspiratorial look, and Uncle Horace winked. Nanny frowned at them. "I hardly think you should continue your discussion later," she added, "it's far too possible to jump to conclusions."
As they went upstairs, Uncle Horace said to Nanny, "I hear Alfred tried to steal you away from here to go with him to the South Seas, and you turned your poor uncle down! How could you do that, Phoebe? Warmth, sand, sun, water ... an unbeatable recipe for romance!"
Nanny laughed, and pretended not to notice the Professor stumbling a bit on the step as he went ahead of them. "Now, Uncle Horace, you know I have work here to do! Stop trying to take a leaf out of Uncle Alfred's book! There's no need to talk about this further!"
"Alfred's right, you've gone soft, Phoebe! Soft in the head. Stranger than usual." he muttered.
"Uncle Horace!" she exclaimed. Hoping the Professor couldn't hear them, she whispered, "I hope Uncle Alfred told you my rules, but I fear not, because you're breaking them! NO TALKING ABOUT MY WANDERLUST! Not here!"
"But, Phoebe ..." he began sadly, "think of Egypt... think of China ... think of Michookoo pining away for you in Africa! He DID pay for you, you know!"
"UNCLE HORACE!"
"Oh, very well," and reluctantly he subsided, and trailed after her as she marched up the last few stairs after the Professor who had been straining to hear their talk and was now bursting with more questions than ever before. For example, what about Nanny's two aunts who had landed their balloon in his backyard only a few weeks after Uncle Alfred's visit last winter, and ...?
"Professor, Hal and Butch are waiting in there," Nanny said pointedly, and he realized he was standing outside their bedroom door, lost in thought.
Opening the door to the boys' room, he wondered if he'd ever get a chance to ask Uncle Horace about the rest of Nanny's relatives, or about her wanderlust that no one was supposed to talk about, or about the mysterious African who had PAID for her ... for what? "Do you know who paid for Nanny?" he found himself asking Butch and Hal, then he sighed.
Before he could apologize, however, Butch said, "Yeah! It was an African chief who wanted her for his wife! He paid for her with a necklace, and she still has it! It's in her treasure chest."
"Oh, yeah, I remember!" Hal said. "She showed it to us when she gave me the philosopher's stone. Why're you asking about THAT, Dad?"
"Oh, never mind," the Professor's mind was reeling. "Just something I was wondering ... Goodnight, boys."
Passing Nanny and Uncle Horace in the hall as he headed towards Prudence's room, the Professor caught Uncle Horace's arm. "A little ... nightcap, Uncle Horace? In a moment?"
"That'd be terrific! Algernon always thought brandy was the thing to hit the spot, and I must say, I agree with him. I can still hear the old boy say, 'Good for the pip, the grippe and the occasional slip!' My, it just seems like yesterday ..." Uncle Horace lit up.
"It more than likely WAS just a few days ago, Uncle Horace!" Nanny said, disapprovingly.
"You said that to me, once, Nanny!" the Professor said, delighted. "So you know Uncle Algernon too, do you, Uncle Horace?"
"I know 'em all, Professor!" Uncle Horace assured him.
"I hoped you would say that!"
Nanny rolled her eyes. "Prudence is waiting for you, Professor."
The Professor popped in and gave his small daughter a goodnight kiss, his mind still on what he hoped to learn tonight. Nanny had never been forthcoming about her past, and he was sure he would learn a great deal from her uncle! When he finally got downstairs, however, it was to find Nanny alone in the kitchen. There was no sign of Uncle Horace.
"Where's your uncle?" he asked, at last, when it seemed evident she was not going to explain anything.
"I believe he has retired for the evening, Professor," she said evenly, not looking at him as she finished efficiently washing the supper dishes. "It was a long day for him, you know, and I think perhaps losing Luana hit him harder than he thought it would."
"Oh." Disappointed, the Professor sat down at the table and watched her finish putting things away.
"Is there something I can do for you, Professor?" she asked at last.
"Yes, but you probably won't do that either," he said glumly. He had already tried asking her direct questions about her background, and she was no more forthcoming with much of that than she had been with references!
She turned to him in surprise, then a lovely smile spread across her face. "Don't worry, Professor, there is always tomorrow morning. Although I'm afraid you'll have to be up early if you want to talk with Uncle Horace -- he's planning to slip away."
The next morning, as he had suspected, the Professor had no chance to talk privately with Uncle Horace. As Uncle Horace was preparing to leave, he shook the Professor's hand energetically. "Thanks for your hospitality, Professor!"
"A great pleasure, Uncle Horace! I kind of look forward to Nanny's relatives dropping in!" the Professor smiled back, wishing he had had more of a chance to visit with this particular relative, who might have been a little more open about her past than Nanny was!
"Watch out for the clinkers," Uncle Horace winked at the Professor, who looked startled.
Scandalized, Nanny shushed him. "Uncle Horace!" She hurried him out the door, and spoke with him for a few minutes on the front step before coming back in to see the Professor still standing there, a big grin on his face.
"What is it, Professor?" she asked, rather warily.
"The CLINKERS?" the Professor repeated, an amused light in his eyes. "I wonder, Nanny, will I ever get to meet someone Uncle Horace considers a CLINKER?"
"I shouldn't be at all surprised," was her weary answer, and she hurried up the stairs to escape any more questions.