Tales from Hogwaller Holler: Moonshine, Pt. 9

© 2018 by Walter Reimer


Certain scenes suggested by E.O. Costello. Thanks!



Now, it was pretty easy, you might be thinking, that just gettin’ the leaders of the Regulars and the Mavericks to agree to changing things would end it at that.

Of course it wouldn’t be. Be a mighty short story if it were, right?

The two leaders, Danforth and Burger, were two of the most important, and it took a powerful lot of talking for Calder to get the two of them on his side. That would be leaving a few others, of course – the heads of a few committees, the Whip, and the parliamentarian. Maybe six furs, in all.

Calder had some success with the wolf and that old buck, and he was able to talk them into helping him a bit with the committee heads and Josiah Black, the Whip. The Whip? Oh, he’s the boy what keeps the other members in line and makes sure they vote how the leaders want ‘em to. Bit of a gossip, that bear was, always had an ear open for something he could use to keep the boys in line.

See why they call people like that a Whip?

I’m told that it took nearly a full case to win the heads of the committees over, and pretty near a half-dozen bottles for Josiah Black. He was a big old fellow, with a powerful thirst, you see. And another thing, Josiah, he was from Hillcrest, which is the nearest big town to Hogwaller Holler.

Calder Hall knew he had to mind the Ps and Qs, as Josiah knew about the Holler. Nothing really bad, though; heck, some folks over in Hillcrest say hello to the Old Man every Spring. They’re right good folks, and Calder could talk to him as a neighbor to a neighbor. They say Rome wasn’t built in a day, and it took a few days for old Calder to convince that bear. Finally, though, he brought him around.

Now, while all this was going on, the Court was still decidin’ on which Members get what seats, and the House was gettin’ set up to get back to business. With the three of them agreein’ to cooperate, Calder, Danforth and Burger were doing well.

But Calder Hall, he had a big fish to land, and that big fish was the parliamentarian. Now, the parliamentarian, like I said, is the guy who looks after the rules. Calder wanted to change the rules and make ‘em simpler, so you can see there was a battle shapin’ up.

Complicatin’ matters was the fact that the mouse was a teetotaler. He didn’t hold with no liquor of any kind, and looked down his nose when he heard tell of how Hall was swaying the leaders.

So Calder didn’t ask him to drink, and no bottles showing anywhere when he asked him to talk. Matter of fact, they weren’t even meeting at the Capitol Building.

That old opossum took a deep breath and sighed happily. “Lot better than sittin’ in a hot office, ain’t it, Louis?”

The mouse just gives him a suspicious look. They’re sittin’ in the central park a loud shout away from the Capitol, beautiful spot with a lot of trees. There’re some picnic tables, and they’re sittin’ facin’ each other. “Yes, it is, and I’m on to you, Calder. What’s your game now?”

Calder gives the mouse a slow blink. “Game? Ain’t no game, Louis. Just asked you out here for lunch, is all. Maybe a bit of talk while we wait, and after we eat.” He flicks an ear. Calder knows what he’s up against, you see; Louis ‘ job is all about them rules, so he’ll move Heaven an’ Earth to make sure his job’s safe. “How’s your family doing?” the opossum asks, and for a while they just sit and chat. Louis has been there pretty near as long as Calder has.

They’re still talking when up comes Bill Rackham on his crutches, followed by a colt from the diner carrying a box, an’ Calder’s eyes light up. “And look who’s here with lunch! You know Bill Rackham, Louis?”

“I’m starting to,” Louis says, all careful-like. He shakes paws with the buck as Bill settles onto a nearby bench and the colt comes up with the box. There’s a basket in there, and one of those tin boxes the milkman puts bottles in when he drops them off at your kitchen door. It’s a warm day, and there’s water beadin’ up on the sides of the tin box. Bill gives the colt a quarter, and the young fellow runs back to the diner. “What’s in there?” the mouse asks, and he gives the buck a squint.

“I just had Bill go round an’ pick up some lunch,” Calder says, and he takes the basket out. Inside’s some fried chicken, with cornbread that’s got green onion and cheese in it, and a container of coleslaw. The forks are property of the restaurant, like the box, and they’ll have to go back when lunch is over. There’s even three slices of blueberry pie. “Want some, Louis?’

The mouse puts a paw to his chin and looks in the box. If you listen close, you can hear his stomach grumble. “Well,” he says, “I wouldn’t say no.”

Calder grins and portions it all out, even for Bill, who waves off his chicken for an extra portion of cornbread. The opossum opens the tin box and there’s six bottles of lemon soda nestled in ice.

But no bottle opener. Calder’s lookin’ around for it, and Bill says, “Here, let me.” He takes up a bottle, sets the edge of the cap against the edge of the table, and pops the cap off neat as you please. “Learned how to do that in the Coast Guard.”

Louis gives his tail a flick as he takes a bottle, and watches as Bill pops two more for him and Calder. “Coast Guard? Is that where – “ and his tail gestures at the buck’s legs.

“No, sir,” Rackham says, and tells how he got hurt. When he’s done, Louis is lookin’ at him with new respect, and for a time there’s just the three of them eating.

Finally Calder sits back, taking a long pull at his lemon soda. “Ah! That’s good on a warm afternoon. So, Louis, can we have us a talk?”

“I haven’t finished my pie yet,” Louis says, and the opossum and the buck sit back and wait while the mouse gets done eating. Finally the House Parliamentarian gets done and licks some blueberry juice off his fingers before saying, “Now, let’s get to talking. You,” and he points at Calder, “are trying to take my job away.”

“No, I ain’t,” the opossum says.

“You’re trying to get rid of the Rules,” Louis says, “and that’s my job.”

Calder sits up and leans toward the mouse, putting his elbows on the picnic table. “Now, no, I ain’t tryin’ t’take your job away, Louis Adelson,” he says in a firm voice. “Matter o’ fact, I’m tryin’ t’make it easier.” The mouse blinks and Calder says, “I saw you tryin’ to find Rule one forty-three, Louis, an’ I ain’t tryin’ to get rid of all of ‘em.”

“You’re not?”

That old opossum shakes his head. “’Course I ain’t. Every game needs rules, Louis. What I’m pr’posin’ – an’ I got Danforth an’ Burger t’agree with me – is that we just change the quorum rule, an’ get rid o’ th’ vee-voh voh-chay nonsense that’s been gummin’ up th’ works fer so long.”

Louis puts his chin in his paw and looks across the table at Calder. He points. “I want to be there when the changes get drawn up.”

“You’re parliamentarian, you’re supposed t’be there.”

The mouse glances at Bill. “Got any more lemon soda in there?”

Bill looks. “Just one, sir.”

“Could you pop it open for me, please?” He got the bottle and took a long drink from it, then reached out with it. Calder reached out with his own bottle, and the two sodas clinked together. “You’ll still have the whole House to contend with.”

“Oh, I know that.”


*********


Well, time to saucer and blow all this. As you might expect, Danforth and Burger did their part, and after the last Member was sworn in and took his seat – took a few weeks, of course – Calder Hall proposed the changes to the Rules of the House.

There were some debates on it, there had to be, but the final vote was greeted by cheers from the Visitor’s Gallery and the press. They all got quiet when Calder stood and gaveled for order.

“Fellow Members, I took th’ Speaker’s gavel from an earnest desire t’help set things right, an’ with your help that’s taken care of. I congratulate the Members, and the leaders, o’ this House,” and he had to wait while people applauded him. Even the press cheered, and he gaveled again. “Since we now have all the Members seated, I will step down as Speaker – I SAID – I’ll step down as Speaker so that the Members can choose a new one,” he said, after raisin’ his voice when the furs in the gallery started shouting. The opossum sets the gavel down and takes his seat behind th’ rostrum.

Fred Burger stands up, an’ the wolf faces first his faction, the Mavericks, and says, “I move that Calder Hall, Member for Hogwaller Holler, be named Speaker of this House for the remainder of the session.” He gives the Regulars the eye. “Do I hear a second?”

Paul Danforth stands up, the buck fiddlin’ a bit with his watch chain. “I second the motion.” He glances around. “In favor, say Yes.”

I don’t need to be tellin’ you, there were a lot more Yeas than there were Nays.


*********


The rest of it? Sure; I think I’ve got some lemonade left.

Calder Hall, he stayed Speaker, until he finally retired when President Moosevelt repealed Prohibition. Like he told Bill Rackham, that Dutch moose had taken away his best leverage, and besides there weren’t no point in carryin’ on. He retired, honored by all factions in the House, an’ went back to Hogwaller Holler where he took up his father’s mortuary business. Died in ’43, quiet-like in his sleep with his kin around him.

But while he was Speaker, he found time to make a few things better. A highway was built to Saltaire, linking it with the bigger ports and the interior of the state. Sure, the railroad screamed blue murder, but they finally accepted it.

Old Redpaw 59:1 still shows up in carafes at the State Capitol, so that the Members can refresh themselves.

Bill Rackham? He stayed on as a Member, an’ he married Becky. He never did go back to workin’ at the cannery, ‘cause he found something else to do.

Apart from raisin’ five fawns, he was the best Governor the state ever had, apart from Old Man Dennison.



end



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