Chapter 106: A Raccoon's Busy Afternoon
Jake runs errands on his way home from work.
Jake Runnel frowned as he looked at the text he had just received which told him that his favorite taxi driver's cab had broken down and had left the lean raccoon in the dark blue business suit stranded on the curb in front of the First National Bank in downtown Zootopia. He had his dark green canvas business satchel in his right paw and clutched a plain brown paper bag in his other paw. Awkwardly he tried to wave down a large taxi cab before it passed him by and he was sure that the white-tailed deer buck behind the wheel saw him but still continued down the street. It seemed that some mammals still just did trust raccoons, especially raccoons standing in front of banks holding paper bags. "Do I look like a bank robber or something?" the raccoon softly griped to himself when yet another taxi zoomed by, ignoring him. His ears flattened slightly when he realized that of course, he was being stereotyped because of his natural dark gray fur mask which was around his eyes. "Red pandas have fur masks too, but do they ever have problems getting a cab? No, they don't because everyone likes red pandas! red pandas are cute, raccoons are shady."
Finally, a rather rusted, beat-up old yellow cab squeaked to a stop and the driver rolled down the car's window before he called out "where to mister?" The young white-furred arctic fox behind the wheel had a heavy Northwoods accent.
Instead of opening the cab's back door, Jake pulled the front door open and sat his stuff down on the floorboard before he climbed into the passenger's seat. "Take me to Windsor and Herd," the raccoon answered as he pulled on the seatbelt. "I hope you don't mind me being up here, I hate the backseat."
"It's your money," the young fox answered as he punched a button on the dashboard to start the meter. "You do know that isn't the best neighborhood, eh?"
"It's okay, I know what I am doing," Jake said with a smile as he slumped back into the seat and closed his eyes.
"You looked tired," the cabbie asked. "I guess you had a long day?"
"It started around four this morning when I had to break into a mansion," the raccoon answered. He gave a slight grin when he peeked over and saw the fox's eyes had widened at what he had said. "Then I had breakfast with the owner."
"You broke into a rich person's home and had breakfast with him, eh?"
"Yep, I'm a security consultant and I wanted to prove to him that his alarm system was inadequate, which I did."
"You're Jake Runnel!" the tod suddenly exclaimed.
"You have heard of me?" the raccoon asked in surprise.
"Everyone in Tundratown knows about Mister Big's raccoon."
"I'm not Mister Big's raccoon, we are friends."
"If you say so."
Jake just sighed and tried not to pout, he had been called that more than once in his life since saving the small shrew from a rhino.
The cab pulled up to the address and the driver looked around. "Are you sure you want to be here?" he asked as he looked over and saw that there was a now-closed furniture store to their left and a brightly lighted strip joint called the Blue Parrot Lounge to the left. The bright yellow string lights were illuminated against the waning afternoon sun, beckoning visitors to come to watch the adult entertainment inside.
"Yep, now pull around back and park," the raccoon said as he opened the cab door and jumped out.
The fox watched as the raccoon crossed the street and greeted a huge bull in a cheap-looking burgundy velvet tuxedo jacket who was standing at the entry, whatever Jake had said to the bouncer made him laugh before he opened the door. With some trepidation, the driver followed his instructions and pulled around to park behind the club. After a few moments, the raccoon opened the backdoor with yet another brown paper bag. He stopped to chat with several petty vixens, one of them giggled and leaned over to kiss the raccoon's cheek before he walked over to the cab. There was a rustling noise of paper as Jake sat the bag in the backseat and then he climbed back into the front seat and handed the driver a sandwich. "This place makes the best tasting fried cod sandwiches in town. The cook is a seal who I met when I was in jail and he is master when it comes to seafood," Jake said as he pulled his seatbelt back on. "I had promised my wife and kits that I'd bring some of his sandwiches home for dinner."
"Thank you," the fox answered as he put the sandwich on his dashboard. "It smells delicious."
"Now I need you to swing by the police station downtown, I have a delivery."
A red fox in a blue blazer and khaki pants with a detective's badge clipped to his belt was waiting for the cab as it pulled up and the raccoon jumped out with a sandwich and fries in his paws. After a few moments, of chatting with the detective, Jake claimed back into the car. "Hey Wilde, be careful!" he yelled toward the fox with a final wave before he shut the door and then turning the cabbie added, "My next stop downtown is the old church on Tusk Street." Jake yawned as he settled down again in the seat.
The old church wasn't a grand building like the cathedral several blocks away, which had soaring marble towers and grand stained-glass windows. No, this church was made from gray weathered stones with two old stout wooden doors. It was a working mammal's house of worship and not a place where the rich or famous went to be seen on Sundays. The driver watched as the raccoon fumbled into the paper bag that he had held in front of the bank and his eyes widened again in surprise when he saw it was full of loose cash inside. "Stay here and keep the engine running," Jake commanded as he opened the cab door and seemingly snuck across the road. The raccoon briefly hesitated outside of the church before he barely opened one of the huge oak doors and slipped inside.
A few moments later, he ran out of the building and towards the cab only to hesitate before he reached the car when an elderly otter in a worn black priest's robes with a white collar stepped out of the church and triumphantly called out, "I caught you again! Bless you, Jake!"
The raccoon waved back and laughed, "Any port in a storm!"
"What was all that about, eh?" the driver asked as the raccoon pulled on his seatbelt yet again.
"It's kind of a game we have been playing for years," Jake chuckled as he settled down in the seat. "Every once and a while I will sneak inside to stuff cash into the poor box and then try to get out without being caught."
"Why don't you want a receipt for your donation, I mean for your taxes?" the fox asked as he put the car into gear and pulled out onto the street.
"Nope, that would take all the fun out of the game," the raccoon answered with a smile. "Now take me home, I live in Happy Town."
"You live in Happy Town? I figured you'd live someplace nicer, like a luxury condo uptown or one of those fancy mansions on the river in the Palm District."
"Nope, I born and raised in HT."
The traffic was heavy, but they finally arrived in front of a quaint remodeled Victorian house that sat across the road from Saint Patrick's Church. Jake looked at the meter and pulled out yet another wad of cash. "Here, this covers the ride and keep the change," he said while he handed the money to the driver. Then picking up his satchel and the bag of food, he closed the door.
"Are you sure?" the cabbie called out before the raccoon left. "This is twice what you owe!"
"A guy has to make a living," Jake laughed and gave a wave before he turned to open the garden gate.
The house's front door suddenly flew open and two young raccoon kits ran down the walkway. The smallest one launched himself into the older raccoon's arms, who had barely just set down his satchel and the brown bag of food before he caught the squirming black and gray furred bundle in his arms. "Poppa's home!" the young raccoon cried out in joy.
"Woah Freddie, you almost knocked me over!" Jake laughed as he hugged his son.
The other raccoon kit tried not to show that he was just as happy, for he was trying to act cool. Instead of rushing into his father's arms, he walked over and picked up the sack of food and sniffed it before he yelled back towards the house, "Mom, Pop is home and he brought fish sandwiches and fries."
"Hey Nicky, you don't have a hug for your old father?" Jake called out to the raccoon with the sack.
"Aw Pop, you know I'm getting too old for all that kind of mush!" the raccoon kit halfheartedly complained.
The cabbie just smiled at the sight of the loving family as he drove off down the road, leaving the once tired, but now seemingly rejuvenated raccoon behind.
The chef at the Blue Parrot Lounge is first mentioned in Chapter 9 of Zootopia: A Raccoon's Revenge when Jimmy Ratzoli takes Ben and Jerry to pick up sandwiches for a lunch meeting with the police.
Jake first met the priest in Chapter 19 of Zootopia: A Raccoon's Redemption – Sins of our Fathers and then later in Chapter 16 of Zootopia: A Raccoon's Romance.
His eyes swept over the inside of the church's sanctuary, it was plain and simple. Stone walls with plain glass windows, oak pews, and an altar table with cheap brass candlesticks and a stone statue of the Lion lying down next to the Lamb. "Any port in a storm, my son," a voice called out from behind him.
The raccoon turned to face an otter in a black shirt and pants. He had a priest's stiff white cloth collar around his neck. "I'm sorry, but I don't understand?" he replied.
"Ah, you're a raccoon, so I thought you would know the old riverboat mammal's saying of any port in a storm?" the otter answered. "Are you just here to hide from the storm outside, because you look like your weathering more than one storm?"
