"See, there's no color when we fight together. Our blood runs the same red."
Mr. Ceasar, Adventures in Odyssey: The American Revelation Part 1
Judy, alas, had lost track of Nick in the shuffle of the crowd and found herself divided between keeping her eyes peeled for him, trying to track any possible signs of trouble, and acting like she was in no way doing either.
"Where is that fox?" she asked, looking around.
Up to this point she had been on the ground level, opting to be in the thick of things even at a higher risk of being stepped on. Hoping to spot Nick, however, she ascended to one of the elevated areas which had been erected for smaller mammals. She didn't see Nick from up there, but she did notice that the curtains had been drawn over the stage for a change of bands. On the big screens all around, projectors cast an announcement counting down the time to…
VIXEN. Well, that did and didn't help. On the one hand, now she knew where Nick would be pretty soon. Once this band wrapped up, he'd be ducking backstage to patch up with Taelia. As hopeful as that was, she knew the decent thing to do would be to give him some space.
That was when it occurred to her that if Vanya was around stalking Nick, she would probably try to follow or even wait for him backstage.
Can't take chances on that, she thought to herself. She descended the steps from the scaffolding and was on her way towards said area when a homelike smell caught her nostrils; blueberries. She wondered if Nick would look for a snack on the way backstage; something to sweeten up his breath, at any rate. The snack tables were almost directly on her way, so she decided to take a look.
She didn't see Nick, but she did get an eyeful of something else at the table.
'Product of Hopps Family Farm… sponsored by Pwasson's Passion?!' she read, her blood pressure rising. It was like a slap in the face. Of all the tricks for that skunk to play, this was the lowest since the papers at her apartment!
She took several deep breaths, forcing herself to calm down. Even as the crowd erupted. The curtains had just separated to reveal a band of canids while heavy rock chords boomed from the speakers. Xavier's voice sang out the opening lines to 'Invincible' while Judy looked around for some sign of Nick. Though she was only half-listening, the song struck her as uncannily apropos. Even if the lyrics suggested feeling that way because of a friend or perhaps even a spouse, she was feeling invulnerable at the moment for a far different reason: at the moment she felt about up to kneecapping an elephant. Nobody – nobody – crossed the line and involved family on her watch.
Then she shook it off. She should find Nick, and she didn't see hide or orange hair of him here. She ducked through the crowd heading for backstage as, to a loud cheer from the audience, flames erupted behind the band on stage.
Alas, near the backstage entrance was none other than the shooter of that pot shot, and seeing her in person was about as much as Judy could take. While Poisson engaged in meet and greet with visitors to her 'humble home,' Judy strode up.
"Welcome, wel- ah, Officer Hopps," the skunk greeted with manufactured warmth. "So nice to see you tonight."
Judy did her best not to react to Miss Poisson's cavalier demeanor. "I just wanted to compliment you on the snack tables," Judy answered, trying not to be too obviously icy. "Especially the blueberries. They were like a little taste of home."
The skunk looked genuinely puzzled, and disinterested. "Is there some punchline here I'm missing?" she asked.
It was all the bunny could do not to sigh in annoyance as she rolled her eyes. "Well, do you expect me to think it was a coincidence that you ordered blueberries from my parents' farm?"
Miss Poisson scrunched her face. "Your parents'… oh, I should have guessed they'd be farmers," she uttered, as dryly as ever. "Well, I hate to disappoint you, but I don't even decide where the food I eat come from. I'm a CEO, not a cook. My chef takes care of ordering."
As if, Judy thought. "You're telling me all the signs saying you sponsored the refreshments were a mistake or something?"
Now it was Poisson's turn to look confused. "You must be joking, Hopps. The signs saying I sponsored the refreshments?"
"Yes, all over the tables. Why is this so confusing?"
"Because I'm telling you I had nothing to do with the refreshments. In fact, they were all directly funded by…" the skunk's voice trailed off as a dawning look came into her eyes. Then she snapped back to the moment. "Show me those signs this instant."
Judy bristled. "I'm not here to-"
"Officer, if you're looking to avoid any trouble tonight then I must see those tables immediately!"
So urgent was Poisson's manner, and so baffling was the whole thing, that after a moment's hesitation Judy nodded and turned, waving for Olivia to follow. "Come on. I hope you have a good explanation."
Poisson followed, muttering darkly. "Someone had better," she murmured.
Elsewhere in the crowd, a coyote knelt by a wallaby. "Jerry? Buddy, you don't look good."
Jerry groaned. "I think it was the sushi."
An anxious frown plastered itself over Willy's face as he resisted the urge to say 'I told you so.' "Well, you'd better take your meds, and we should get you to a bathroom."
The wallaby's eyes turned to one of the screens. "But they're gonna start any minute."
"Then let's hurry up and get whatever got into you out of you."
Despite his reluctance to cooperate, Jerry followed Willy as they tried to make their way through the crowd. Unfortunately, the place was so packed it was hard to even spot a bathroom.
Gotta get eyes above this, the coyote mused just before he bumped into a figure at least half again his height.
"Excuse me!" exclaimed the elderly-looking lion, sounding a little miffed.
Willy stepped back, blurting out an apology, and then realized his chance. "Uh, hey. Sick kid here, can't see, mind telling us where the bathrooms are?"
The lion started a little, then looked around. "That way," he announced, pointing.
To Willy's dismay, the crowd seemed thicker in that direction. "Great, thanks," he uttered dismally. The, not really meaning to be heard, he added quietly, "Don't suppose you could help us get through."
He'd underestimated the cat's hearing. "Well, now that you mention it, I can spare a minute. Scott! Scott, come!"
A teenage lion who looked to be the elder's grandson blinked in the middle of twisting and turning with a lioness about his age. Then he looked at the screens. "But Dad, the best band comes on in thirty-!"
His dance partner blinked. "Dad? I thought he was your grandpa."
Scott's expression fell. "Aw, man!" he cried in dismay, ducking away without making eye contact with anyone nearby.
The older lion looked pretty crestfallen too, but a tug on his arm brought him back to the moment.
"Hate to ask, but he's really not looking so great."
"Right, right," agreed the lion as his son arrived with a sour expression. "Come on, then. Move aside, people! Sick kid, coming through!"
As the lion bellowed for attention and waved mammals away, Scott cast a backward glance at the five canines framed against projected, hi-def pyrotechnics so real you could almost feel the heat even at their distance. "I can't believe you blew my cover now," he complained.
"Sorry, so- I mean Scott," Leodore defended, not bothering to point out that it wasn't him who let on. "But can we talk about this later? I need to go myself!"
Scott found himself following reluctantly, even as his favorite member of the band took center stage to introduce a song dedicated to 'someone special in the audience.' He didn't even notice as Willy reached up to finger a gold medallion around his neck, embossed on the one side with a dragon and on the other with a tiger; a present from the singer in question.
Tonight of all nights I miss one of her solos, he thought to himself. I'll have to make that up to her later.
He didn't think of it at the time, but his whole notion of course depended on there being a later.
Even with a lion to clear the way, trying to get to the restrooms took a painfully long time. By the time they had reached the door, Nicole's rendition of 'Down the Road' had ended and Xavier was taking the mic.
"Beautiful song, Nicole. Let's have a round of applause for her, huh?"
Claps and whistles rose up from the audience as Nicole returned to her usual spot and Isabelle came up beside Xavier.
"You've all been great tonight, folks," Xavier went on, smiling, "and before we do our last couple of songs there's something we need to share with everyone."
At the bathroom door, Jerry waved for a stop. "Wait, wait. I wanna hear this."
"Are you sure?" asked Willy.
"Yes!" said Jeremy emphatically. "When's it gonna happen again?"
Xavier continued. "This next song we'll be singing is a special request from a very close friend of ours named Jerry, who recently helped us with a big step in our lives as a band, and particularly as a couple. It's kind of an open secret that my wife and I don't like to be asked why we don't have any cubs." He paused to let that sink in, then added, "It's more of a secret that the reason is a few years ago we found out from the doctor that… well, we can't."
A palpable sense of disappointment came over the crowd.
"It was a pretty rough blow to both of us. She'd been hoping for a family of our own, and… well, ever since I was a cub myself I wanted to be a dad, in large part because of how my father handled me and my siblings. We volunteered for a while helping with kid groups like the Junior Ranger Scouts trying to fill the void, and finally my wife said we should stop moping and do something with our disappointment.
"We made a few inquiries, fostered a few kids who all eventually went back to their parents, and finally found a kid who couldn't go back. As a matter of fact, he had lost his parents in a fire about the same time we found out we could never have kids. It was a pretty long process taking care of the classes, paperwork… and then the Bellwether Incident nearly ruined everything. Suddenly everyone in foster care was afraid we might go nuts and turn on him. I don't blame them. My wife kind of does, but if we thought for a minute that it could hurt him, we wouldn't have wanted him in our care either. He almost got placed with someone else, but the three of us managed to tough it out, and tonight… he is officially our son, Jerry Moonbeamer."
A wave of applause and cheers passed through the audience, and starting with the lead couple the whole band raised their paws in appreciation and triumph. As the noise died away, Xavier continued.
"Now I'm sorry to tell you guys this, but the little man hates cameras so we had to promise no pictures up on the screen." As a few disappointed sounds rose, he went on, "Instead we'll be doing the last two songs of the night just for him; one chosen by him, and one by us. We actually had to get special permission for one of the songs, and it won't be appearing on any of our CDs or the DVD of this concert. So when we get to the second song you'd better get your phones out. Both songs, though, carry a theme I think we all need to take home tonight: that there is a tomorrow. For all of us who have made it through the crisis, as hard and as painful as the road to recovery may be, the sun will rise tomorrow, and I hope and pray to God that you will all see a better future ahead. I know we will.
"So, to start our road to the future, our last two songs: Not Gonna Die Tonight, and I Thought I Lost You. Give it up for Jerry, folks."
More clapping as they again took their places, and Xavier once again cradled his guitar. The future was looking as bright as the flames projected behind them.
Over by the bathroom, Jerry at last lost the fight with his stomach and was quickly ushered in to toss his cookies… and whatever else was rebelling in his gut.
Following Olivia proved quite easy. Even in that crowd, several mammals readily parted like the Red Sea to let a skunk pass. Sticking close on the hostess' tail, Judy followed her straight to the tables. They didn't arrive exactly at the blueberries, but it made little difference. All over, the refreshments were advertised as sponsored, not by Cudd's Suds, but by Pwasson's Passion.
Olivia stared in honest confusion, then waved Judy to follow her again.
"Where are we going now?" Judy asked.
"Somewhere we can make a phone call," she murmured. As she waded through the crowd she tried to send off a couple of text messages, growling in frustration when she couldn't get through – by what Judy could catch – to her butler or her top maid.
"Not like them at all," she uttered. "Where the devil are they?"
Ducking into a hall a little removed from the ballroom, she punched in a number and shuffled her feet while it rang. Judy noticed she put it on speaker. She was also a little surprised to see that, not too unlike rabbits, skunks tended to stamp when they were angry. It wasn't the stamping of a child throwing a tantrum; more a steady stomp almost like some kind of ritual.
The call picked up. "William Cudd, at your service."
Olivia spoke in a measured tone. "Master Cudd, I'm so sorry you couldn't be at the party tonight."
"As am I, Olivia. As am I. But I had pressing business."
"No doubt," Olivia answered. "But there's some trouble over the refreshments. It seems they've been mislabeled, and I thought you would be the one to ask about it."
Cudd chuckled condescendingly. "My dear, you don't think I oversaw everything personally, do you? I delegated almost everything, just like you."
A prickling sensation crept up Judy's back, but Olivia seemed too busy being indignant.
"Did you, now? And would that include the signs saying that I sponsored the refreshments? I never imagined you giving your credit to someone else."
Cudd laughed. "Oh dear, dear, dear. Why can't I seem to find any decent help these days? I must have asked myself a thousand times where you find such good staff." His tone then grew a little icier, reminiscent of a snake closing in on a mouse. "Your Lillian is quite exceptional, for one. I often wonder where you get help like her. I wonder, could she tell us?"
Never since they had met had Judy imagined Olivia looking as ice-cold afraid as she did in that moment. Even her black fur seemed to turn a shade paler. "What?"
"I said, I wonder, could she tell us? That's your cue, my dea- ouch!"
A moment's struggle could be heard, followed by the sound of a blow and a cry. Lillian's voice broke through the scuffle, terrified and angry.
"Olivia, don't-!"
"Muzzle her, now!"
More struggling over the phone, as Olivia's dread welcomed a new friend to the party: rage. "Cudd, whatever you're doing, I'll have you know-!"
"Yes, yes, I know Officer Hopps is with you. That makes it so much easier to do all this. Good evening, Officer Hopps. We've never met, but it's such a delight. I am your humble entertainer, Obearon."
With regard to the note about Jerry eating sushi, admittedly I wasn't sure if a wallaby in the real world would eat fish. I did recall a note in one of WANMWAD's mystery stories, however, about the possibility of rabbits eating fish, and I know that deer have been known to eat meat in real life (reindeer in particular will eat lemmings for the salt). So I didn't think it too much of a stretch that an anthropomorphic wallaby keen to try new cuisine would sample some.
More grounded in reality was the note about Olivia stamping her feet in anger. This is based on real skunk behavior, and as in this case is generally a sign of agitation. Need I say more?
And something you guys might get a chuckle out of: the part about Scott slipping up and calling Lionheart his dad was actually as much an accident on my part as his, but when I looked back over the line I realized it was funny and suited the story, so I kept it in. Go figure, right?
Easter Eggs:
Another nod to the technicolor teens