November 28, 2022
"We're heading out now, Skipper," Kowalski called over to his leader as he, Rico, and Private were about to head out on a few missions around the zoo. "Is there anything you'd like us to bring back?"
"Well," Skipper said, "rumor has it our zoo now has a breadstick vendor over by Ted's habitat. I could go for a little sample—extra sauce!"
Kowalski smiled and tapped his clipboard. "Already on my list, sir."
"Great work, Kowalski." Skipper smiled back, offered a salute, and then watched as his three teammates exited.
"Daddy, where do Uncle Kowalski, Uncle Private, and Uncle Rico go every morning?" MaryRose asked as she sat with her father on the floor of the HQ.
"That's classified, sweetie," he replied.
MaryRose looked up at him, confused.
Skipper chuckled. "I'm just kidding. Most of the time they're either training or off on a mission of some sort. Your uncles and I form an elite group that strives to uphold truth, justice, and the penguin way—we're kind of like Superman, except he can fly."
"You're part of the group, Daddy?"
"I'm the leader."
"But they always go without you. Why don't you go with them?"
Skipper smiled. "Because you're much more important than getting some breadsticks. Giving you a good start in life is all that matters to me now. When you're older I'll go out with them again."
"And I can come too?"
"Well, you'd have to be quite a bit older before that could happen, but someday."
MaryRose began to think about age for a moment. She was almost old enough to be able to count how old she was on one flipper. "I'm almost one month," she said as she proudly held a flipper up. "How old are you, Daddy?"
Skipper chuckled and then answered, "Thirty-three."
To a young chick, a number that high was astonishing. "Thirty-three months!"
"Thirty-three years," Skipper clarified. "For a talking penguin, it's actually not that bad an age. But I'm roughly 396 times older than you are, plus a few months."
"Wow," MaryRose said, still amazed. "But maybe someday I can be older than you."
Skipper patted MaryRose on the head. "Well, every year older you get, I'll get a year older too, but you're more than welcome to try to catch me."
MaryRose smiled, and her thoughts soon returned to the team her father was a part of. "What are missions like?" she asked.
Skipper thought about MaryRose's question for a moment. She, obviously, was much too young to hear about Dr. Blowhole, Hans, or even Manfredi and Johnson. So much of what the Penguin Unit did was scary or was just too strange for a young chick to understand; some things were actually classified for a reason. Still, some operations were much simpler in comparison. "Well, MaryRose," he said after about thirty seconds had passed, "let me tell you about the day we were cut off from our popcorn supply."
— § —
As the day went on, MaryRose's interest in penguin missions remained on Skipper's mind. When his teammates returned to the HQ for the day, he discussed her interest with them over the breadsticks they had brought back.
"Well," Kowalski said as he dipped a cheesy breadstick into the special dipping sauce, "it sounds to me like MaryRose wants to follow in your footsteps."
Skipper nodded. "She's not too far behind. Yesterday she asked me if she could have a sip of my fish coffee. I was a bit hesitant to give her caffeine at first, but then I figured one sip wouldn't hurt. But then this morning she asked for two sips."
Private chuckled. "I think it's so sweet that MaryRose wants to be just like you."
"I do too," Skipper said. "That's why I'm thinking about trying something, if you boys would help me."
"What do you have in mind?" Kowalski asked.
"Well," Skipper said, "MaryRose shouldn't really participate in any of our missions until she's quite a bit older, and there are some missions that she should just never be a part of. But nothing says we can't involve her in a few 'special missions' so she can feel part of our team right now."
"So you want us to make up missions?" Kowalski asked.
"Well, maybe a little," Skipper said, "but I was thinking more along the lines of taking the really small tasks we already do and calling them 'missions.' You know, changing the coffee filter and helping Private pick up his Lunacorns when playtime is over. Things like that. We'd just help her with whatever she's doing."
"I like the idea, Skipper," Private said. "Even though I think I'm old enough to put away my own Lunacorns."
"I concur with Private," Kowalski said. "You know, except for the Lunacorns part."
"Yup," Rico agreed.
"Then it's unanimous: MaryRose is now in charge of special operations of the special variety," Skipper said. He looked across the HQ to where MaryRose was playing with some assorted toys from the zoo's lost and found and asked her to join them.
"Yes, Daddy?" she said as she waddled up to him. She was carrying a small beanbag with her.
"MaryRose," he said, "I was just telling your uncles about your interest in penguin missions, and we were all so impressed that we've decided you can help us out a little."
MaryRose was elated. "Really!" A wide smile came to her face.
Skipper nodded and then got up from the table. "And you can begin right now. The TV remote control has been a bit slow lately, so I need you to help me change the batteries. Commence Operation: Double A!"
Never before had anyone been more alacritous to change batteries. "OK!" she said. She set her beanbag down on the table and then followed Skipper to the TV.
— § —
December 1, 2022
"Blue, MaryRose," Kowalski said. MaryRose handed him the blue crayon from the eight-color crayon box she was holding.
"Brown, please," Private said. MaryRose handed him the brown crayon.
Rico mumbled something that sounded a lot like "Red," so MaryRose handed him the red crayon.
"Green, sweetie," Skipper said. MaryRose handed him the last crayon in the box. "Excellent, MaryRose," he said. "You know your basic colors. You've passed Operation: Crayola with flying colors—no pun intended."
And with that, another one of MaryRose's missions—and her first quiz—was a mission accomplished.
Over the course of just a few days, the nature of MaryRose's missions quickly expanded from purely simple tasks—holding Kowalski's pencil for him in the lab, helping Private unwrap his Peanut Butter Winkies—to things that were comparatively more flippers-on, like tossing peanuts to Burt, securing an electronic bug below a bench using old chewing gum, and using Skipper's binoculars to help him with lookout duty while the others raided the pretzel cart. Everything was highly planned out for MaryRose's safety, but she enjoyed every bit of her experiences just as much as Skipper enjoyed being able to expose her to as much of his world as she could comprehend and stay safe in.
Her latest mission complete, MaryRose collected the crayons from the others and then began to hand the box to Skipper when he stopped her. "No, no, sweetie," he said, "those are yours to keep. You've earned them."
MaryRose smiled. "Thanks, Daddy."
Just then, the five penguins heard Alice outside gruffly complaining to herself about the mundanity of her job, her insufficient pay, and the appreciation she was never shown for her toils—the usual—which was quickly followed by the sound of a handful of fish landing on top of the concrete iceberg.
"Mealtime!" Skipper said. He then bent down and picked MaryRose up to carry her outside.
"Daddy," she said, "can our next mission be a fishing mission?"
"Well, that sounds like a wonderful idea for the future, but I don't think a fishing trip can be our next mission," he replied. "To catch the best fish around here we'd have to go out on the water, and I'm still not comfortable with having you get that close to it again until you can swim. Coming outside on the iceberg with us is close enough to the water for now."
MaryRose nodded. She was a bit disappointed, but she understood.
Skipper sighed slightly and then patted MaryRose on the shoulder. "Daddy just suffers from paranoia about certain things," he explained. "Like the rise of the metric system and too few escape tunnels and his only child getting hurt. But I promise we'll go fishing someday, and I know we'll have a great time together."
MaryRose hugged Skipper's chest. "Any time together is great."
Skipper smiled, knowing MaryRose understood. "You took the words right out of my beak," he said. "Now come on, let's get something to eat."
— § —
December 2, 2022
A month had passed since MaryRose had entered the world, and Skipper wanted to celebrate the event in a big and memorable way. So even though he had been uncomfortable with them since Nairobi, Skipper decided that he wanted to throw her a surprise party.
After planning things out with the boys, Skipper left the HQ with MaryRose to give the others time to prepare. After spending a number of hours together, Skipper and MaryRose returned to the habitat around 4:30. As he carried her into the base, the penguin quartet broke into song:
"For she's a jolly good penguin, for she's a jolly good penguin
For she's a jolly good penguin, which nobody can deny
Which nobody can deny, which nobody can deny
For she's a jolly good penguin, for she's a jolly good penguin
For she's a jolly good penguin, which nobody can deny!"
"You're a month old today, MaryRose," Skipper said, "and that calls for a celebration." He turned to Rico and continued, "It also calls for ..."
"Fiiiiish! ... cake," Rico sang in his operatic voice as he revealed the layered cake he was holding, from which several fish heads and tails were randomly protruding.
MaryRose smiled. "That looks yummy."
"It tastes even better," Skipper said as he began to carry MaryRose to the table. "Come on, let's go have some."
Rico and Kowalski followed Skipper and MaryRose to the table. Private joined a few moments later after filling a bowl with pieces of hard butterscotch candy for everyone to share.
Once they were all together, Rico regurgitated a single pink birthday candle and stuck it in the middle of the cake. He then produced a book of matches, struck one, and then blew it out suddenly before shaking his head. After tossing the match behind him, he regurgitated his trusty flamethrower and lit the candle his way—with that added touch of pyromania.
"OK, MaryRose," Skipper said as he held her at the table, "there's just one more thing that has to happen before we can all enjoy your delicious fish cake."
"What's that?" she asked.
"You have to make a wish and then blow out the candle." He held her up so that she could get a little closer to the cake. "Make a good one, sweetie."
"Hmm," she said as she looked down at the candle's flickering flame, "I wish for—"
"Oh, MaryRose," Kowalski said, "don't tell us what you're wishing for."
"Oh, I'm sorry," she said as she turned to him. "I didn't know."
"Don't worry, it's not something you have to apologize for," Kowalski said. "It's just that a wish made while blowing out candles is 57 percent less likely to come true if revealed by the wisher. I'm just looking out for you because I want your wish to have the greatest chance."
MaryRose sort of understood what her uncle was trying to tell her. She smiled and nodded at his advice and then made her wish silently before blowing out the candle.
After the others clapped their flippers for her, Skipper lowered MaryRose away from the cake. Rico then cut it with a U.S. Marine Corps noncommissioned officer's sword, once again using more tool than necessary. Fortunately, he manipulated the weapon smoothly, with almost surgeon-like precision.
Once Rico had given each of them a piece, the penguins began to eat the cake in celebration of MaryRose's thirty days. As they were needed, he also passed them seconds and thirds.
When only a few sprinkles and crumbs remained, Skipper turned MaryRose around to face him. "So, are you ready to open some gifts now?" he asked.
MaryRose couldn't believe there was more. "I get gifts too?"
"Of course!" Skipper replied. He got up from the cinder block he was sitting on and set MaryRose on the floor before sitting down next to her. The others then came over to them.
Rico gave MaryRose his gift first—or at least he tried to. He got as far as regurgitating something cylindrical covered with colorful fish wrapping paper before Skipper stopped him from handing it to MaryRose, simply saying, "She's too young." Rico sighed and then swallowed the dynamite back down to save for his niece for another day. Maybe Christmas.
Private then handed MaryRose an irregularly shaped small package, which she quickly began to unwrap. It took her a moment to rip off all the paper to find a Lunacorn inside. "Is this Princess Self-Elantra?" she asked.
"Self-Respectra," Private replied. "She's always been one of my favorite characters, and in the spirit of Prince Shares-a-Lot, I'd like to share her with you." He turned to Skipper. "If you don't mind me giving her a Lunacorn, that is."
"Well, I still think The Lunacorns is full of touchy-feely propaganda," Skipper said, "but I suppose it's OK if little girls want to play with dolls. I'll let it slide. For now."
"Thanks, Uncle Private," MaryRose said as she set her Lunacorn down next to her.
Skipper turned to Kowalski. "Kowalski, you're up next."
"I, uh," he said as he began to rapidly flip through pages of notes on his clipboard, "I have nothing. After spending hours experimenting with different formulas to try to determine the best possible gift for MaryRose, I simply ran out of time. I'm sorry." He flipped back to the first page and then handed the clipboard to MaryRose. "Here you go, MaryRose; your very first clipboard. Just think of me whenever you balance chemical equations."
"Balance what?" MaryRose said as she accepted the clipboard, which was taller than she was. She then thanked Kowalski for his gift.
"And now it's my turn," Skipper said. He reached to his right and then handed MaryRose a small manila envelope.
Inside, MaryRose found a long ball chain, a much shorter ball chain, and two identical metal tags that were two inches long. She couldn't read them, but each tag was embossed with words in capital letters:
FIDELIS
MARYROSE E.
203-22-H6Y7
AVIAN
CHRISTIANITY
"Those are called dog tags, sweetie," Skipper said. "They're a special form of identification worn by military personnel. As penguins, we do not actually wear our dog tags, but your uncles and I each still have a set as part of the Penguin Unit. Welcome to our team." He then offered his daughter a salute.
"Thanks, Daddy," MaryRose said as she copied the gesture back. She then broke protocol by hugging her commanding officer, but no more than Skipper did by hugging back.
Thinking quickly, Rico regurgitated a camera and took a photo of Skipper and MaryRose together. He wasn't usually one for mushy sentimentality, but at least he now had a gift for MaryRose that was age appropriate.
— § —
December 3, 2022
Upon detecting an unfamiliar, pungent odor, MaryRose, standing outside on the iceberg with Skipper, turned around and saw a plume of blue smoke rising through the fish bowl entrance to the HQ. She then heard Kowalski cry out "Sweet mother of catfish!" in a tone that suggested shock and panic.
Startled by Kowalski's exclamation, MaryRose quickly tapped on Skipper's side to alert him. "Daddy! Daddy! Uncle Kowalski needs help!"
Skipper merely chuckled as he turned around. "He's fine, sweetie. Trust me, I've spent the vast majority of my life working with him. It's only when I don't hear shrieks of terror coming from his lab that I become concerned."
MaryRose nodded as she absorbed this new information. She was then silent for a moment as she thought about all of what Kowalski had called out. "What's a mother?"
"A mother is a parent who is a female—a girl," Skipper answered. "As opposed to a father, a parent who is a male—a boy."
"Do you have a mother?"
"I do, though I haven't seen her in a long time. She's your grandmother."
"Do I?"
Skipper thought for a moment and then nodded slowly. "Everyone has a father and a mother, MaryRose," he said. "But your mother died before you hatched. I'm sorry."
MaryRose looked up at Skipper, more confused than upset. "But why? Did she not like me?"
"Oh, MaryRose," Skipper said as he picked her up, "that's not the case at all. I didn't know her, but I'm sure she would have loved you. In fact, the last thing she did was ensure that you'd be a part of this world."
"How?"
"Well, she laid your egg. You remember being inside your egg, don't you?"
MaryRose nodded. "A little. But where was I before?"
Skipper chuckled. "There's a lot to explain when you get older, MaryRose." It then struck him deeply that if MaryRose's mother hadn't died, he would never have known his daughter, or even known that he had one. "At least the things that can be explained."
MaryRose turned slightly so she could cuddle up against Skipper's chest feathers. She thought about what he had said for a moment and then asked with sweet innocence, "You won't die, will you?"
Skipper thought about the question for a moment. As much as he wanted to tell her otherwise, fate was beyond his control. It had given him a daughter, but it had taken away the child's mother at the same time. It was a truly unpredictable force, perhaps even a prejudiced one as well. But one thing he knew for sure.
"Love doesn't die, MaryRose," he said, "so I can't think of any way that we'd ever be torn apart."