Note: These four segments were originally published separately in a series. They are brought together here to be read, if desired, as a single piece.
Part One: Strange sounds in the snow.
As we look across a snowy winter landscape, we see miles of hills and evergreen trees, with nary a house or other building in sight. The sky above is thick with grey clouds, but no snow is falling at the moment, while a bright glow shining through the clouds to the west shows us it is late afternoon. Back on the ground, we see two men wearing snowshoes trudging along a trail in the valley between the hills. On a closer look we discover that these two are our friends Phil Wellbright and Frankie Elliot. Let’s join them as they take in the brisk, clean, northern air.
“What did I tell you Curly, isn’t this great?”
“Sure, it’s wonderful. I didn’t know there were winter resorts like this in the Midwest.”
“Well, it’s no Sun Valley, but it’s a way for folks around here to get out and enjoy the snow without having to travel half way across the country. I figure we can hit the slopes first thing tomorrow.”
“That’ll be fine. There’s just one thing I don’t understand.”
“What’s that?”
“What I am doing here?”
“You’re snow-shoeing.”
“Frankie, you know what I mean. I want to know why it was so important for you to get me up here with you.”
“What’s the matter, don’t you like it here?”
“Sure, like I said, it’s wonderful. But I was content back at my new home, living next door to A- to the Springingtons. I wasn’t even settled in yet, and you come along and drag me up into the woods.”
“Well Curly, I got this offer kind of suddenly, and so I had to rush right up here.”
“Sure, you had to, but what about me? I’m not working here.”
“You’re my best friend Curly, so I wanted you here to share my good fortune.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you, Frankie, but, well, to tell you the truth, I was just getting to know Alice, and , well, I just sort of miss her.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. I know, it probably sounds kind of silly, I mean, we only met a month ago or so.”
“It doesn’t sound silly Curly.”
“No?”
“No, not at all.”
“Thanks Frankie. I’m glad you understand.”
“Nothing silly about a guy missing a nice girl like Alice. Especially if that guy happens to be kind of sweet on her.”
“That’s me all right. ”
“Truth is, I miss Olivia.”
“You do?”
“Yeah, seeing her again was like having a light go on in my life.”
“Did you think you were going to miss her before you came up here?”
“Yes, I did. That’s why I wanted you to come with me, so I wouldn’t get lonely.”
“Did you ever stop to think I might miss Alice?”
“As a matter of fact, that thought did cross my mind, but I figured we could both miss them together, that way it wouldn’t be so bad for either one of us.”
“Yeah, but Frankie, I didn’t have to leave. You’re the one who got the job at the resort. I could be spending time with Alice right now.”
“I’m sorry Curly. I just didn’t want to leave Olivia behind and come up here all by myself. If you ever have to leave Alice behind to go on a trip, I’ll do the same for you someday, I swear I will.”
“Okay Frankie. I guess it’s a worthy cause to help my best pal get along with out his girl for a few days, even if it does mean I have to be away from the girl I–from the girl I’m sweet on in the meantime.”
“Thanks Curly. You know, just talking about Olivia makes missing her seem less, you know, less of a burden.”
“You’re right Frankie. Talking about Alice has kind of eased the pangs for me too.”
Both men sighed at exactly the same time.
Frankie said dreamily “Women.”
“Ain’t they something?”
“The best thing since sliced bread.”
“Better.”
“Best thing since a shave and a haircut.”
“You mean with the steaming hot towel wrapped around your face?”
“Yeah, and that great smelling after shave that only the barbers seem to have.”
“Yeah, even better than that… with your cheeks feeling so soft and smooth–”
“Like a baby’s bottom after a warm bath.”
“Yeah.” Phil absently raised a hand and stroked his cheek with the back of his fingers. There was an audible scraping as his knuckles rubbed across his whiskers. He dropped his hand suddenly and seemed to stir out of a dream. ” I think I’ll shave when I get back to the room.”
“Yeah. Come to think of it, the last time I saw a baby’s bottom was when I was babysitting for my sisters kid when he was just a little thing, and that wasn’t for any bath.”
“Well, what’d you expect? A baby’s got to be changed.”
“Poor little fellow. He had a terrible rash after that night.”
“What did you do to the kid?”
“That’s just it, I didn’t do anything. Every time the kid cried I thought he was hungry so I just kept offering him more of that mush babies eat. He’d just look at it and turn away and cry some more. It was very confusing.”
“What finally tipped you off?”
“I was holding a spoonful of mush in front of his mouth, and balancing him on my knee, and somehow, something just didn’t feel right.”
“Stop right there. I get the picture.”
“Poor little guy. I got the feeling as I looked into his eye that he wanted to reach out and punch me in the nose for leaving him in so much discomfort for so long.”
“I bet your nephew and you are great pals now.”
“What Johnny? Sure he and I are like that. He doesn’t hold a grudge against Ol’ Uncle Frankie. Funny thing though, whenever I walk into a room he stands up, real sudden like.”
“Cut it out Frankie, you’re just foolin’ with me. I have to admit though that changing babies diapers, well, that’s probably the only thing that kind of, you know, makes me a little scared of marriage and fatherhood.”
“Marriage and fatherhood? Curly, you have got it bad.”
“Yeah, Frankie. I’ve got it bad, and that’s good.”
“Does Alice know?”
“No. I don’t want to frighten her. We’ve known each other such a short time.”
“This is kind of sudden news for me. I hope I haven’t made any unseemly remarks, but if I do, you know, based on our past association, just let me know, would you? I wish you all the best, Curly.”
“Thanks Frankie. Don’t make it sound like I’ve jumped off a cliff and left you behind or something. What about that light that’s gone on in your life?”
“What, Olivia? She’s a wonderful girl, Curly. I’m lucky just to have met up with her again, but I think she would never really take a guy like me seriously.”
“What do you think, she’s just playing you? Just having fun?”
“I don’t think that Curly. It just seems too good to be true. All I know is when I’m with Olivia, it’s the best feeling I’ve ever known. I guess I’m just afraid to think about the future because this all seems like a dream and I’m going to wake up at any moment.”
“Now it’s my turn to ask you if you’ve told Olivia how you feel.”
“What, and scare her off?”
“A fine couple of Romeo’s we are, too timid to press our suits.”
“What’s that?’
“Just something I read or heard somewhere. It means we’re afraid to tell the girls we’re in love with that we’re in love with them.”
” What do we do?”
“I guess we just have to be patient and see how things work out, and in the meantime, do our best to keep the girls interested till we can tell them our feelings without, you know, without it being too much of a shock.”
“I suppose that’s a good plan.”
“Hey Frankie, speaking of plans, how much further till we get back?”
“According to the trail map, we should be coming to a turn off any time.”
“Which way?”
“To the left takes us down to the lodge. ”
“What about that turn off we passed a little while ago?”
“I didn’t notice it. I guess I must have had my mind on something else.”
“Uh -huh, fine time to be daydreaming. What do we do, turn back?”
“The trail is curving to the left anyway. Let’s follow it around this bend and see where that leads us.”
“Lead on, Meriwether.” They walked in silence for a few moments till Phil said, “Sure is quiet out here.”
“Yeah, not a house, or a building anywhere in sight .”
“Look at the trail, Frankie . Looks like nobody has been out this way in quite some time.”
“Yeah, ours are the only tracks. Of course we did get a fresh snow last night. That would have covered any tracks from yesterday.
“That’s right. Probably there were a lot of tracks here before that snowfall last night.”
“Yeah, after all this is the main trail. Probably lot’s of people walk this way all the time.”
“Of course. You’re sure this is the main trail, aren’t you Frankie?”
“Sure I’m sure. At least, I was sure. Anyway, It’s not like we’re actually lost.”
“No, not actually.”
“I mean, even if we don’t know where we are right now, we know the lodge is just over that way.”
“Probably just a mile or so away, don’t you think?”
“Sure a mile or so, maybe. ”
“Sure is quiet though.”
A sudden sound stopped the boys in their tracks. It was a loud sound, unfamiliar and somewhat like a deep musical note blown on some fantastic kind of horn.
Phil looked at Frankie, “What was that?”
“I don’t know. Sounded like the mating call of a moose.”
“Do you have moose around here?”
“No. I was just kidding. There are no moose around here. At least I don’t think there are. Anyway, what if it was? Aren’t mooses vegetarians?”
“Yeah, that’s right, they are. So what do you think it was?”
“I don’t know.”
“There it goes again. Say, what’s bigger than a moose? That sure is a loud sound.”
“I don’t know. I think it’s coming from up ahead, just around this bend.”
“Maybe it’s one of those wooly mammoth things.”
“You mean those things like hairy elephants? Aren’t those extinct?”
“Yeah, that’s right. I guess I’m just letting my imagination run away with me. Besides the people at the resort would have noticed a thing like a big hairy elephant roaming around in the woods. I mean, what are the odds that you and I could arrive last night and out of a clear blue, without even looking for it, be the first one’s to discover a giant animal like that, trumpeting and stomping around here in the woods? The mere thought of such a thing is ridiculous.”
“You’re right Curly, that would be ridiculous; our first day here and we discover a mammoth roaming the woods. Somebody else would have seen him first. Anyway aren’t elephants vegetarians too?”
“Yeah, but did you ever see one of those Tarzan movies and the way the elephants pick up the poachers or the ivory hunters or whoever they’re angry at with their trunks and just kind of toss them around like they were a child’s doll?”
“You don’t suppose it thinks we’re ivory hunters, do you Curly?”
“I don’t know.”
“I mean, we don’t look like a couple of poachers or ivory hunters, do we?”
“Not to me we don’t, but maybe the mammoth has never seen a Tarzan movie. Frankie look!”
“A cabin!”
“Do you think that sound came from in there?”
As if in answer to Phil’s question, the sound repeated.
“I guess that answers that.”
“What do you suppose it could be? That cabins too small for a mammoth.”
“I don’t know Frankie. I guess we’d better go find out.”
“Might be some kind of wild animal that’s hurt in there, calling to its mate.”
“Or its pack.”
“Its pack? You mean as in wolf pack? Curly, I don’t think there are any wolves around here either.”
“Yeah, and you also thought mammoths were extinct, but we still haven’t figured out what could be making that noise.”
“Do you think maybe it’s a small mammoth?”
“You mean like a baby, calling for its mother?”
“That’s it Curly, like a baby calling to its mother.”
“If it is, then for our sake I hope the mother is nowhere nearby. ”
“Gosh, you’re right! I don’t see anything. I think we’d hear her crashing through the trees if she were charging us.”
“We’re almost there Frankie.”
“What if it’s an injured wolf? I’ve heard wild animals that are injured and feel cornered can be the most dangerous.”
“We’ll soon find out. Duck down below these windows. We’re almost to the door.”
“Curly, I think I saw those trees move! Wait… wait… I guess it was just the wind.”
“Keep your voice low Frankie. Don’t want the wolf, or the mammoth–”
“Don’t forget the moose!”
All right. The wolf, or the mammoth, or the moose, or whatever is in there, to hear us. My hand is on the door. It doesn’t seem to be locked. I’m going to gently push it open. Stay to the side and give whatever frightening beast is in there plenty of room to charge out.”
“Right. ”
“Ready? ”
“I can’t look. Tell me when to run.”
“You’ve got your eyes closed Frankie? Okay. Here goes. The door is swinging open and I can see… I can see… Mr. Gordon!”
“Mr. Gordon?”
To be continued. . .
Part Two: Snow way to treat a friend
We left Phil and Frankie standing at the open doorway of a remote cabin. They had been tracking the source of a strange sound, which they supposed to be made by some frightening animal, but were surprised to find themselves facing not a wild beast, but Phil’s neighbor, Mr. Gordon. With equal surprise, Mr. Gordon’s first words as he sees the boys are:
“Mr. Wellbright, Mr. Elliott! How did you two find me?”
“We weren’t looking for you, Mr. Gordon. We didn’t even know you were up here.”
“That’s right. We kept hearing a strange sound, and we followed it here to this cabin.”
“You must be referring to my sagbutt.”
“Gosh no, Mr. Gordon I wasn’t referring to you at all. Like I said, we heard this strange sound–. ”
“Let me try again. This is my sagbutt. I was practicing on it. That is the sound you and Mr. Elliott must have heard.”
“Oh, that’s a- a sag butt, did you say? It looks sort of like an over -grown trombone.”
“Yes, I suppose that’s one way to describe it. The sagbutt is a predecessor to the modern trombone so favored by todays jazz musicians. You gentlemen might as well take off your snow shoes and come in. Be careful when you close the door though, there is a great deal of snow on the roof and we don’t want to cause an avalanche. I plan on going out later to rake it off.”
” Look at that, must be at least ten inches of snow up there.” Said Phil.
“I’ll bet that would make quite a pile if it all came down at once.” Frankie added.
“Let me save you the trouble Mr. Gordon.” Phil said “I’m already dressed up warm, with boots and hat and coat and gloves. You just take it easy and let me do this for you.”
“Thank you, Mr. Wellbright, that’s very kind. The rake is right there beside the door.”
“Is there another one of those things around, Mr. Gordon? I’d be glad to help.”
“I’m afraid not, Mr. Elliott, but thanks anyway.”
“While Phil’s doing that, do you mind if I take a look at that musical instrument of yours?”
“Certainly, help yourself.” Then stepping into the open doorway he addressed Phil again. “I certainly appreciate this, Mr. Wellbright. . Just try to drag the snow so it doesn’t fall in front of the door.”
“I’ll start down at the other end and work my way back, then I’ll have a clear area on the roof to drag the snow to the side before I bring it down.”
“Good idea.”
“Mr. Gordon, have you been playing the sagbutt for long?” Frankie asked.
“No, Mr. Elliott, I’m still just a neophyte.”
“Oh, uh huh. Mind if I give it a try?”
“Be my guest.”
After the note subsided, Phil said, “You’ll probably think this is pretty stupid, but when we heard you blowing on that thing, we thought I was some kind of strange animal.”
“Yes. That is, compared to the sound Mr. Elliott was able to produce, I’m sure mine must have sounded rather like a wounded water buffalo.”
Frankie responded, “Don’t be ridiculous, Mr. Gordon. Everyone knows there aren’t any water buffalo around here.”
“We were thinking more of a love-sick moose.” Said Phil.
“Or a mammoth.” Frankie added.
“A mammoth? Of course. A mammoth is much more plausible. What brings you gentlemen here to the north country?”
“Frankie got a job playing at the resort. He talked me into coming with him. What about you Mr. Gordon? What brings you up here?”
“Mrs. Gordon suggested, and I agreed with her, that I could use a little rest, and some peace and quiet.”
“You couldn’t have picked a better place for it. What could disturb you in a remote place like this?”
“I was just thinking the same thing myself.”
“You ought to get plenty of rest and peace, especially now that we’re here.”
“Now that you’re here? What did you have in mind?”
At this point perhaps I should pause the narrative to inform those readers who may be unfamiliar with the prior history of Phil and Frankie and Mr. Gordon, of what happened on the very first day they met, and also to give a brief summary to all readers of certain events that had transpired since the day of their first meeting. It was on Christmas Eve, that Phil and Frankie first met Mr. Gordon, and on that day Phil accidentally knocked Mr. Gordon unconscious with a snow shovel. Mr. Gordon regained consciousness in no more than a moment, and immediately forgave Phil for his unintended action; such was the character of Mr, Gordon. Although he could forgive, it was more difficult for Mr, Gordon to forget. For one thing there was the lump on his head that lasted several days and made putting on a hat something of a delicate procedure until well after the New Year. More than that though, there were Phil’s efforts, usually accompanied by Frankie, to do something kind for Mr. Gordon, that never seemed to go as intended.
First there was the Pumpkin Pie incident, in which Phil and Frankie eagerly insisted on delivering the pie Mrs. Springinton had baked for the Gordon’s the day after Christmas. The two friends paraded across the street, locked arm in arm, carefully holding the pie up in front of them, singing Deck the Halls. Mrs Gordon, having been alerted by a telephone call from Mrs. Springinton, was waiting at the front door, which she swung open as Phil and Frankie reached the porch. Still shoulder to shoulder and still singing, the two men marched across the threshold and tripped over each others feet. Walking from the kitchen to greet his guests, Mr. Gordon had the briefest of moments to glimpse the pie, looking like a miniature harvest moon, sailing toward him. Always one to look on the bright side, he was at least able to honestly say that it was delicious.
Then there was the day that Phil and Frankie helped the Gordon’s take down their Christmas tree, and no one has yet been able to figure out how the trunk of the tree came to be fully inserted into Mr. Gordon’s coat, entering at the bottom and coming out at the collar. The tinsel icicles hardly bothered him, nor did the occasional cranberry or piece of popcorn. What made the experience most unbearable for Mr, Gordon were the dry and scratchy evergreen needles that fell off the tree by the hundreds and seemed to work their way into every stitch of clothes he was wearing, including even his undergarments, where they caused him a great deal of discomfort; and he too polite a host, or too modest, to excuse himself to change clothes until his guests had completed their mission and bade farewell.
The final incident, and one that I am happy to say ended without injury thanks to the abundant layer of snow on the ground, happened when the boys were helping Mr. Gordon take down the garlands around the outside of the house and Frankie forgot one of the cardinal rules of moving a ladder, which is to always look up first. Indeed, the only thing that finally alerted Frankie to Mr. Gordons presence was a sound, not unlike the wail of a wounded water buffalo strangely enough, followed by a glimpse out of the corner of his eye of Mr. Gordon coming to earth.
With all of this, you can readily understand how Mr. Gordon began to feel like a hunted animal as far as Phil and Frankie were concerned. He knew the two men meant him no harm, but he began to feel decidedly unsafe in their presence. Mrs. Gordon could see the toll this was having on her husband, and gave him the sage advice to remove himself to a locale far from Phil and Frankie, with the hope that their zeal for doing her husband good deeds would abate in his absence.
You can also doubtless understand why Mr, Gordon sounded as though he were being pursued when he first saw Phil and Frankie at his door, and why now, he seems to be nervous at their presence. Imagine yourself in his shoes, or slippers, balancing the conflicting emotions of dread that something terrible must be about to happen to you, and relief that something terrible hasn’t just happened to you. Such a strain would surely unnerve the stoutest of us.
To get back to the story, Mr. Gordon had just asked Phil what he had in mind, to which Phil replied:
“I mean doing these little chores for you, so you can relax, take it easy. Let us do the work.”
“Of course. I’m sorry if I seem a bit nervous, I hope I haven’t behaved inhospitably. It’s just that seeing you two gentlemen here came as quite a surprise.”
“That’s okay Mr. Gordon, Frankie and I were surprised to see you too. Hey, this snow is starting to pile up. Have you got one of those snow shovels around here? I’ll clear a walkway when I’m finished.”
“Thank you Mr. Wellbright. Yes, there is a snow shovel, I believe it’s around by the back door .”
“Okay. You sure you trust me with it?”
“What’s that? Oh yes.” Mr. Gordon rubbed his head.
“I still can’t tell you enough how sorry I am about that, Mr. Gordon.”
“It’s quiet all right. You needn’t apologize any further, but, just to ease your fear of doing me bodily injury, I’ll stay in here with Mr. Elliott, where it’s safe.”
Then, just at that moment, a most singular thing occurred. I suppose if Frankie and Mr. Gordon had been a couple of highly trained acrobats, or perhaps two skilled precision dancers it would have taken them hours of rehearsal and many a run through to accomplish what they were about to do, but they did it and did it well on the very first try. Frankie definitely had the lesser demanding of the two roles. For his part, he started with his back to Mr. Gordon, holding the sagbutt downward, then, as he started to play, he turned, took a step toward the door and Mr. Gordon, raised the instrument, and extended the slide as he blew a note. While Frankie was executing this movement, Mr. Gordon turned with impeccable timing, and, leading with his chin into the room, was greeted with stupendous effect by the extending slide of the sagbutt. It is not easy to say which of the following difficult elements Mr, Gordon performed with the greatest degree of excellence. Was it the explosive recoil as he reeled from the glancing blow of the sagbutt to his chin, the seemingly effortless way in which he went from upright to head -over- heels in backwards flight, the velocity he achieved while in the air, the distance he travelled, or the landing in a mound of snow beneath the eaves directly in front of the open door? I suppose if one were a judge at the Winter Olympic Games, one would have to give him all perfect scores, although if one were looking for any deficiency, one would have to admit that his landing did result in a great burst of snow being thrown up, something, I believe, for which the judges usually take at least a minor deduction.
In any event, Mr. Gordon sat there with a sort of dumbfounded expression on his face, like an athlete who’s Olympic dream has just come true, but doesn’t know what to make of it yet. His reverie lasted only a moment before the deafening roar of the crowd, in the form a Frankie’s frantic shouting roused him to semi-awareness:
“Mr. Gordon! I’m sorry!”
Mr. Gordon looked at Frankie, or, from Mr. Gordon’s perspective, looked at two of Frankie. “What, what happened?”
“Let me help you.” Frankie rushed forward and in his flight through the doorway instinctively grabbed the door handle and pulled it forcefully closed behind him. There followed in a moment a rumbling sound, as of a great weight letting loose and shifting above…
To be continued…
Part Three: Suspicious Behavior of Swiss Yodelers (from Switzerland)
We left Mr. Gordon dazed and sitting in a mound of snow outside the cabin. You may recall that Frankie rushed from the house and pulled the door solidly closed behind him, which action was followed instantaneously by a loud rumbling from above, much like the sound made by one of those avalanches that cause an entire ski party to scatter and seek cover. Frankie, being for the moment a party of one, could not have scattered unless he were suddenly endowed with the knowledge of the Eastern mystics, who, according to the brilliant P.G. Wodehouse, are said to have possessed the ability to cause their physical bodies to disassemble in one place and to reassemble at will in another place. Being neither Eastern, nor mystic, Frankie was compelled to remain in status quo with regards to his physical body, and that may have been a good thing, because, being under the eaves of the roof, he was in a place of shelter. Mr. Gordon, however, was not so fortunate in his choice of real estate, for he had landed directly below the very edge of the roof, and so, in the direct path of the coming onslaught. Had an Eastern mystic been near at hand, Mr. Gordon could perhaps have implored the kind fellow to use his ability tout suite for his, Mr. Gordon’s, benefit. Nothing spectacular, like transporting him to Calcutta or Bombay, or even to Capistrano with the swallows, just a minor disappearance and re-manifestation, of only ten feet or so in almost any direction would have done the trick. Eastern mystics, always a rare breed, are especially scarce in the American north woods, particularly in mid-winter and so it is that one was not nearby in this case, I suppose a cowboy, skillful with the lasso could have helped Mr.Gordon out of this predicament, as could have a tumbling gymnast or an agile sumo wrestler, but the landscape was conspicuously devoid of such individuals at this moment, and so Mr. Gordon was left to endure the coming ordeal with none to offer him physical aid, and only Phil and Frankie to suffer with him in spirit.
The ordeal itself lasted only a moment, and indeed the whole thing was over in much less time than it has taken you to read this far, but I have lingered here, at the outset, in an attempt to set the stage and create the right sense of pathos for dear Mr. Gordon and his unhappy predicament.
Let us resume the narrative of events with Frankie, just as he has pulled the door of the cabin closed. He heard the sound above his head as he turned from the door to resume his rush to Mr. Gordon. Their eyes met for an instant, then Frankie saw Mr. Gordon look up, perhaps snapped out of his dizziness by the magnitude of the rumblings so near above his head; and as he looked he seemed to shrink back into his pile of snow, like a groundhog which has seen its shadow. As Frankie stepped forward he was stopped in his tracks by a sudden solid curtain of snow that descended from above, and for a moment made everything go white before his eyes. Frankie reeled backward from the avalanche, so sudden and violent was it’s appearance, then, when it was over, he found himself gazing at the same pile of snow from which Mr. Gordon had been looking at him, and upon which there was an even larger pile of snow, but of Mr. Gordon there was not a trace.
“Mr. Gordon? Mr. Gordon?!”
There was a muffled response of several unintelligible syllables, and the pile of snow appeared to heave slightly.
“Mr. Gordon, are you there? Is that you under there?
Phil had by this time arrived, running from the side of the house. “Of course it’s him under there Frankie, who did you think it would be? Come on, give me a hand digging him out before he suffocates.”
“Do you hear that Mr. Gordon? We’ll have you out in a jiffy. Just sight tight and don’t worry about a thing. Frankie and Curly are here, and you’re going to be all right. Just leave everything to us.”
“There he is Frankie. There, wipe that snow off his nose, I’ll clear a space around his mouth. There, at least he can breathe now.”
“Yeah, that’s got his head clear. How do you feel Mr. Gordon?”
“What? How do I feel?” Mr. Gordon looked at Frankie for several seconds before seeming to recognize him. “Mr. Elliott, is that you?”
“I’m right here, Mr.Gordon. You’re going to be all right.”
“I seem to remember you playing on the sagbutt.”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Then I turned and you were there blowing a note and something hit me on the chin.”
“I’m awful sorry about that, Mr. Gordon. You’re all right now. There was just this little avalanche off the roof right there, it sort of fell right on top of you when I, that is, well, when I pulled the door closed.”
“You caused the avalanche too?”
“Yeah, I guess I pulled the door a little too hard.”
“Where is Mr. Wellbright?”
“Here I am, Mr. Gordon.”
“Mr. Wellbright, I’d like to move my right arm, can you dig it out please?”
“You’re right arm? Sure Mr. Gordon, we’ll have your arm out in no time. Come on Frankie, give me a hand. There, there it is Mr.Gordon, can you move it all right.”
“Yes, yes I can move it. Now, could you dig out my left arm please?”
“Your left arm Mr. Gordon? Of course, here, we’ll have that out in another minute or two. . . There, there it is. How does that feel?”
“That’s fine. I can move both of my hands and arms, and all of my fingers. I don’t think I can stand up yet. Mr. Elliott, would you lean a little closer to me please?”
“Sure Mr. Gordon, anything you say.”
“Thank you, that’s it. I just want to get both my hands around your neck and squeeze as hard as I can before you get another chance to kill me!”
“Mr. Gordon! Mr. Gordon, let go of Frankie. That’s it, let go. Now, take a deep breath, stay calm, don’t exert yourself, just take it easy. We’ll have you out of there in not time. You need to lie down and rest inside. Let us finish digging you out of this snow. Just relax.”
“Yes, thank you Mr. Wellbright. I’m sorry Mr. Elliott I don’t know what came over me just then. I suppose it was just some primitive impulse for self -preservation.”
“That’s okay Mr.Gordon. Like Curly said, you just need to lie down and relax. You’ve been through a trying experience. Strangling me won’t make it any better.”
“Won’t it? I mean, of course it won’t. I am sorry Mr. Elliott. I feel quite ashamed of myself. I hope you will forgive me.”
“Sure Mr. Gordon I forgive you. Besides, you had every right to lose your temper. Now just take a deep breath and let Curly and I get you out of that snow and into your cabin.”
Unnoticed by our trio, a pair of men on skis had approached.
“Helmut?” One of them called, ” Helmut, is that you?”
“Helmet? ” Phil replied as he turned to face the newcomers. “I don’t have a helmet. Mr. Gordon, do you have a helmet?”
“No, but I could have used one a few minutes ago.”
“Sorry bud, no helmets here.”
“Sorry,” The man said, “I was mistaken. I thought you were our friend, our friend Helmut. He is staying in a cabin near this place. We came here to meet him.”
“Your friend Helmut isn’t here. My name’s Phil Wellbright, my pal here is Frankie Elliott, and our host is Mr. Gordon. We had a little accident and we’re just getting Mr. Gordon inside. Would you two mind giving us a hand?”
The two strangers exchanged glances, then the one who had done all the talking said “Ya, we will help. But then we must be going. We must find Helmut.”
The two men stepped out of their bindings and stuck theirs skis into the snow, “Your friend here was caught in the avalanche?”
“Yes, from the roof. It wasn’t that bad really, but he had just suffered a fall before that.”
“You should be more careful. Always you Americans are a careless people. You will find yourself getting hurt that way.”
“I suppose we should be more careful. Thanks for the warning. I take it you and your friend are not Americans. Mind telling us your business here?”
“Our business? We are . . . entertainers, hired below, at the lodge.”
“At the lodge? ” Frankie said, “Me too, I’m a musician. Are you guys in the orchestra too?”
“Ni- no, we are not in the orchestra. We are yodelers.”
“Yodelers?”
“Ya, Swiss yodelers. From Switzerland.”
“From Switzerland.”
“That is right. Allow me to introduce myself. To my friends I am known simply as Conrad. Hans and I have come here to find our friend Helmut to rehearse together. Helmut, he is also a yodeler.”
“A Swiss yodeler.” Hans added.
“Yes, Hans is right. Helmut is also from Switzerland, like us.”
“You two seem awful keen to make sure we know you are from Switzerland. What’s up with that?”
Conrad answered. “Oh, well, it is just that we grow tired of the way you Americans confuse our country with Sweden. So many times when we say we are Swiss, and our kind American hosts say “Ah, Sweden, ” and we have to correct them and say “No, not Sweden, Switzerland. ”
Hans added. “Sweden is on the Baltic Sea, and borders Norway and Finland. Switzerland has no coast, but is situated among the Alps, and is surrounded by many neighbors: France, Italy, Austria and of course, Germany.”
“That’s a rough neighborhood to be in these days. What do you guys think about what Hitler has done to Poland?”
“How the Fuhrer choses to deal with the Slavic peoples to the east is not a concern for Switzerland.” Conrad responded.
“Nor for the British or French. Or the Americans.” Hans said.
“Hans!”
“Well, thanks for the geography lesson, and thanks for helping us get Mr. Gordon inside. We won’t detain you from your rehearsal any longer.”
“I hope your friend recovers from his accident. Please be more careful, all of you, to avoid danger. Good day.”
Phil closed the door behind Conrad and Hans, and watched through the window as they put on their skis and glided away.
“There’s something suspicious about those guys Curly.”
“You noticed it too?”
“Yeah. They sure went out of their way to convince us that they were Swiss yodelers, and not Swedish yodelers. Well I’ve got news for Conrad and Hans, and Helmut too, wherever he is: we might look like just a couple of dumb Americans, but I guess we look too dumb for their good, because even a couple of guys like us know there’s no such thing as a Swedish yodeler.”
To be continued . . .
Part Four: Friendly or Faux? Unravelling the Suspicious Behavior of the Swiss Yodelers
We left Phil and Frankie discussing the suspicious behavior of the Swiss yodelers, who claimed they wanted to make sure they were not confused by Americans as being from Sweden, an occurrence, they indicated, had happened to them regularly. After these men departed from Mr. Gordon’s cabin, Frankie put his finger on the nub with the brilliant observation, “There’s no such thing as a Swedish yodeler.”
To which Phil replied:
“Are you sure about that?”
“I was hoping you would know.”
“I suppose not. They don’t have Alps in Sweden. All the yodelers I ever heard of came from the Alps. ”
“There you have it. No Alps. That proves it.”
“That they’re not Swiss?”
“That they’re not yodelers. I knew there was something phony about that Hans, the way he kept glancing around, real cagey like.”
“Frankie, I don’t know if the fact that they’re yodelers or not is important, you could be right, and I don’t want to discourage you, but I was thinking that they were lying to us when they kept saying they were from Switzerland. I don’t think those guys are Swiss at all.”
“Not Swiss? What makes you say that, Curly?”
“Something about the way Conrad said the Führer, almost like he was in awe.”
“The Führer, who’s that?”
“Frankie, don’t you pay attention to anything going on in the world. The Führer is Hitler. You do know who Hitler is, don’t you ?”
“Sure Curly, I know. I guess I don’t pay that much attention because it seems like we have enough troubles of our own right here without getting mixed up in the problems of the rest of the world. You have to agree with that, don’t you?”
“Yes, Frankie, and no. Sometimes the problems of the rest of the world get so big that they become our problems too, and then we have to get mixed up in it, whether we want to or not. So I figure each of us should pay attention, stay informed, and know what’s going on in the world.”
“You sound serious Curly. What is going on in the world?”
“You asked me Frankie, just remember that. I think we’re going to end up in another war.”
“I thought the World War ended all that.”
“So did a lot of other people. I guess that was just a case of mass wishful thinking. They’re at war right now over in Europe.”
“Things have quieted down since last fall, haven’t they?”
“No, Frankie, it’s just that there isn’t much shooting going on right now since Hitler and Stalin took over Poland. Not only that, but look at the past several years: Italy attacked Ethiopia. Japan invaded China. Spain had a civil war. Things aren’t quiet at all. Sure, we don’t feel it here much yet; we have a big country and we’re separated by two big oceans from most of the world. We also have good neighbors like Canada and Mexico, instead of being surrounded by fascists and communists, so things seem pretty calm to a lot of people here; but the fact is, if you look east or west across those two big oceans, the world is at war again and as far as I can tell, it’s going to get worse before it gets better.”
“I didn’t know it was that bad. I’m kind of sorry I asked.”
“Don’t be, Frankie. I think a lot of us Americans want peace so bad that we won’t even acknowledge there’s a war going on unless it hits us in our own back yard.”
“So what do you figure all this has to do with those two guys posing as Swiss yodelers?”
“I don’t know Frankie. While we may not be at war with anyone, a lot of countries are at war, and some of them may already think of us as enemies. That’s why I can’t get over why a man who is supposedly Swiss would speak of the Führer in such a reverent tone. I think it was all he could do to keep from clicking his heels and coming to attention as he said it.”
“So what do you think the truth is about those guys?”
“I almost hate to say it Frankie, but I believe those guys are Nazis.”
“Nazis?”
“Yep. Nazi agents. That’s the only thing that could explain their behavior.”
“Gee, and I thought they were posing as yodelers to get a job.”
“Frankie, why would anyone go to so much trouble and then pretend to be a yodeler of all things?”
“If you don’t have a job and you’re not a citizen, they deport you.”
“They do?”
“Yeah, it happened to my second cousin Cyril. He came over from England one summer to stay with my aunt and uncle –”
“The story of your cousin–”
“Second cousin.”
“All right, your second cousin, Cyril will have to wait. Right now let’s go in the kitchen and see if can find something warm to fix for Mr. Gordon.”
“I don’t think he needs it now, he’s asleep.”
“So he is. Out like a light. Frankie, put another log on the fire, would you, while I cover him up with this blanket. . . There, nice and cozy.”
“Look at him, like a big puppy curling up with his blanket.”
“Yeah. Petey does the same thing with his blanket. He gets that same look too, like he’s smiling. He almost looks sort of, well, cute, doesn’t he, Frankie?”
“I guess so, as long as I think of him as a big puppy. You know, he kind of reminds me of Regalo in a way too.”
“What, your little Chihuahua? How’s that?”
“His eyebrows.”
“His eyebrows? What about them?”
“I just noticed the resemblance, how Regalo does the same thing sometimes, raises his eyebrows just enough to give him those wrinkles in his forehead. Sort of makes him look intelligent.”
“Yeah , I suppose it does.”
“If only people could really be as intelligent as dogs look.”
“Yeah–hey, that reminds me, what was that crack you said a while ago about you and I looking like just a couple of dumb Americans?”
“Well, what about it? I was just trying to make a point.”
“Count me out next time you make a point like that. When it comes to dumb looks, speak for yourself .”
“All right, all right. It’s just that you’re my best friend and I didn’t want you to feel left out.”
“Left out, he says.”
“I hear you. Take it easy would you? Calm down.”
“I am calm.”
“No need to get testy.”
“Who’s testy?”
” You are Curly. Just listen to you. Do you want to wake Mr. Gordon?”
“All right. I’m calm. I’m quiet. And I am not testy. All I was trying to say was I don’t look that dumb.”
“How do you know?”
“How do I know? What do you mean how to I know? I’ll tell you how I know. Among other things, Alice says my appearance is indicative of a deep and perceptive soul well-suited to the pursuit and expression of my artistic abilities.”
“Alice said that?”
“Yes.”
“She actually used the word indicative in a sentence?”
“Well, maybe not that exact word. I forget just how she put it but I know what she meant.”
“And what Alice meant was that you’re no dope.”
“That’s right.”
“And she doesn’t think you look like one either.”
“Right again.”
“Then you’ve got nothing to worry about, Curly; your worries are over. Alice is stuck on you sure as Mr. Gordon was stuck in that pile of snow.”
“How do you know?”
“Women are blind to the faults of the men they love, Curly. Didn’t you know that?”
“They are?”
‘Sure. So when Alice says you don’t look like a dope, well, there you have it.”
“Yeah, you’re right Frankie. This is great news! I can hardly wait to see Alice again so I can tell her how I feel about her. Wait, wait, I just thought of something.”
“What’s that?”
“What if she is just one of those protective types, you know, who feels sorry for a guy and wants to make him feel better about himself, but it’s nothing personal, you know, no emotion other than pity.”
“I never thought of that Curly, you’ve got something there.”
“Frankie, I gotta ask you something, and you gotta tell me the truth as my best friend, even if you think it will hurt me. Do you promise?”
“Okay Curly, I promise. What is it?”
“I want you to take a good look at me. Go ahead. Take your time. Look at my face. Do you think that in the eyes of a fine, beautiful, intelligent woman like Alice I would look like a dope?”
“Curly, that’s asking an awful lot, even as your best friend.”
“Let me have it Frankie.”
“Honestly?”
“I can take it.”
“All right, you asked for it. . .”
To be continued. . .
Copyright 2017 r.k.morris
