Fanfiction

Here are some stories
remember this is for fun ONLY



ONE
To Jim Qwilleran it has all seemed like a bad nightmare. From the sudden loss of his most important companion and friend (humanly speaking), to the equally stunning loss of his fair weather residence (a large converted apple barn), James Macintosh Qwilleran’s world was seemingly turned upside down.
It had started out like any other normal Moose County fall, a bit warmer than usual yes, but not one for ol' Weatherby's record books. The only truly odd occurrence was a local death by bee sting, the circumstances of which had caused a slight tingle in the salt and pepper moustache of the man the locals called Mr. Q. All in all though, it was fall, and fall was the time Qwilleran's fawn colored roommates, a pair of Siamese with an over abundance of personality, went a bit wacky watching leaves fall from their front row window seats and were driven positively mad as the local consortium of nut hiders went about their pre-winter preparations. And fall was the time to think about shutting up their spacious round barn, and beating a hasty retreat to the more manageable winter quarters, a nicely kitted out condo in Indian Village, before the lake effect snows started to pummel Pickax once again. Being so far North (400 miles North of everywhere as townsfolk would say!) often meant earlier than normal snows, even earlier than Jim had experienced in the cold Windy City down South. It had been a few years since ‘The Big One’ had last hit, and Qwilleran was not about to take any chances. It was during these moving and packing preparations that a conversation about Halloween trivia slowed him down.

"Joe, are you predicting an early snow for Moose County? Or just for Brrr?" Qwilleran asked.

Joe Bunker, known to most as Wetherby Goode the local weather man, replied, "Frost on the pumpkin for sure and you can quote me on that!"

"Hmmm...I'm not convinced," came the response to the impromptu long-range forecast. "A little frost I can handle. It's the mountains of snow of which I'm not so fond."

Joe went on, "Speaking of pumpkins, did you know that Halloween originated up here in the Northlands? Well, technically, you can trace it back to your plaid roots Qwill, but the tradition of trick-or-treating as the kiddies now practice it was given to us by a small town in Minnesota less than 50 years ago!"

Qwilleran filed that fact into his Qwill Pen future idea bank as one worthy of further investigation. "You don't say?"

"Yes, and it makes me have to ask. Why have you never had a Halloween party here in your big old barn? I mean, what better place could be found in all of Moose County for the bobbing of apples than in an old apple barn?"

“Humph!” Qwilleran blew through his large mustache. "I guess I haven't been too keen on hosting another large party after that fiasco with Koko. Besides, I'm not too sure either he nor YumYum would be too up on the idea of a dark dye job to dress up as black cats!"

Joe continued, "Well it bears some thought Jim. After all, you’ll be moving out soon and your cat friends can avoid the fur dye makeover by just choosing to be party poopers back at the condo. Besides, with them out of the way, it would be easier for decorating. Imagine what sort of theme our famous Miss Hixie could come up with and what she could do if she had the place to herself!"

Qwilleran gave Joe a stare. "Yes, I can only imagine."



TWO


Later the next day, the richest man in the upper Midwest made his way through the Pickax Market looking for deals. Actually he was looking for something new with which to tempt his cats. Lately Koko had been turning his nose up at the usual fare and Yum Yum more often than not didn’t turn up at all. “Cats!” he thought as he combed the shelves for some kind of feline feast.


"Margo, what do you have for a couple of brat cats? They seem to be off their feedbag lately."

Margo, who had just moved to Pickax that summer to take over the running of the family store from her older, now retired sister, came out from behind a display. "Hi Mr. Q! Didn't see you there. Are Koko and Yum Yum tired of my chopped chicken salad already? I thought you said they were mad about it, especially after I substituted salmon in place of the fowl."

"Well," came the response. "There’s no accounting for taste among the four-legged set. I wish they’d just eat normal cat food. It would make things so much easier. Then again, if someone were to tell me I should only have water and the same food everyday I might not be too happy. Still, other cats seem okay with that sort of arrangement. My cats are way too pampered. I’ve spoiled them over the years with people food. I could probably pin the blame on my old housekeeper, Mrs. Cobb, as she got me started on rich diets for Koko when we both still lived Down Below. How would it be if I brought in some of Mrs. Cobb's old recipes? Maybe you could help me figure out what a pampered cat might like?"

As Margo considered the idea another customer came in.

"Hi ya Mr. Q!" It was Junior Goodwinter. Junior was as involved in the community as Jim Qwilleran himself. From his work as managing editor at the Moose County Something (the local paper), to taking part in Pickax Theatre's productions, Junior seemed to have his hand in it all. He was a good natured man, young, and with plenty of boyish charms. Despite the loss of his father, that had managed to take some of the edge off of his happy-go-lucky personality, Junior remained irrepressible.

Qwilleran smiled and addressed the man. "What's the matter Junior? Run out of coffee at The Something?"

"Funny Mr. Q. No, I'm actually here to see you. I was walking over to the hardware store when I noticed you through the window."

"What's up Junior?"

"Well, our task master has given me the assignment to try to come up with some seasonal spreads. He wants them to be regional with some local tie-ins if possible. The idea is to cover some of the more well known fall festivals within a 100 mile radius as well as some lesser or unknown fall happenings. I guess with the peak of the fall colors less than two weeks away, he wants to run a Thursday through Sunday series on several pages as soon as possible."

Qwilleran looked up at Junior. "Is Riker trying to use the falling leaves to bring up the bottom line at the paper?"

Junior laughed. "Maybe so. But I was wondering if you would consider a bit of a road trip, or trips as the case may be, to go visit some of these events and report back what you find. We partly want to educate the readers on what‘s going on in the area as well as to inspire them to consider some more local possibilities. As you know, Moose County really doesn't have any sort of annual fall festival and maybe your field reports would spur on some movement among the citizens along these lines. What do you think?"

"How full of a spread are we talking about here Junior? Would I be the only contributing author? And what about photographs?"

"I've already got Bushy signed on for this project," Junior replied. John Bushland, known as Bushy despite his obvious lack of hair, was the area's most prominent photographer. "And we can get some help with the more localized events and places that people like to visit this time of year," Junior went on. "You will be our ‘man abroad’ so to speak, covering the goings-on in the more outlying areas."

"Tell Arch I'll think about it."

"He said you'd say that."

"He knows me well."

"I like the idea!" the storekeeper said as Junior left the market. "Fall is my favorite time of year! And I would really love to read about your discoveries!"

"I'm not signed up quite yet for the project," was Qwilleran's curb to her enthusiasm. "For now I must concentrate on saving my 'kids' from certain starvation. Any thoughts come to mind yet Margo?"

"Pre-cooked or are you willing to get out the apron and pots?"

"I am a bachelor, so let's please keep it simple," he said. And with that, he was supplied with some fully cooked stew beef, some frozen vegetables, and a can of broth. The cats would get some of the meat, and with the rest he would have a nice hot supper.



THREE


On his drive back, Jim made a quick stop at Pirate’s Chest to see his long-time girlfriend Polly Duncan, and to pick up something new to read. Pirate’s Chest was Pickax’s newest bookstore complete with guard cat or ‘Bibliocat,’ as Dundee, a beautiful male marmalade, was often called.
“Qwill, what a nice surprise!," Polly exclaimed.

“I'm full of surprises. You should know that by now. How are you Polly?”

“I'm fine, but a bit bushed from today’s battles!”

“Is the Pirate’s Chest under siege?”
Polly laughed. “Almost! We've been having a run on nature books, especially those dealing with the local fauna. Seems everyone is interested in learning more about the area's trees and plants now that the fall season is in full swing. This goes for both the local book buyers as well as those visiting from Down Below.”

‘Down Below’ was how the locals referred to the far flung areas South of Moose County. The fall season was of particular interest to tourists coming up to see the annual changing of the leaves. This part of the state was always a hot spot of tourism, with a hundred miles of lake and variety of Spring and Summertime events. Fall though was the last ‘hurrah,' so to speak, before the tourist dollars went away for the year. People from all parts brought their hiking shoes, cameras, and wallets to explore, capture, and purchase ‘all things fall.’ It was a big deal for the area, and with the warmer than normal temps, folks were turning out in droves.

“Polly, I'm in search of something new to read. What can you recommend?”

“Qwill dearest, by ‘new’ do you mean something written more recently or something that is new to you?”

“Well, I've never been put off by a publication date yet, be it old or new. However, I think I would enjoy something of a more recent vintage. What do you have in mind?”

Polly pointed him to the Recent Release section of the store and went back to selling leaf books to the vacationers. Qwill picked up this volume, and then that volume, carefully examining titles and dust jackets and backs for more details. He picked up one volume that was a collection of short stories all about train engines and thumbed through it. He read one of the stories and decided he knew all he needed to know about the subject and put it back. Another book was a pictorial guide to aquatic lake life. One book contained nothing but recipes for busy mothers. He paged through a work on rural Midwest art that included some barn-art that had some potential, but he returned it to the shelf when he realized most of it was about saw blade and mailbox painting. He just couldn't seem to get interested in anything. He looked at his watch and headed back to the main counter.

“No luck Polly."

“That’s too bad. Maybe if we talk a bit I can figure out something to recommend. What’s the latest at the paper? Do you have any upcoming Qwill Pen projects that deserve some advance research or inspiration?”

“I did run into Junior at the market before I came over here," Qwill answered. He then proceeded to fill her in on the possible extended writing assignment.

“That sounds wonderful Qwill! I think you should do it! And I think I have a reading suggestion for you. Why not pick up a larger city newspaper or two for some possible fall story related inspiration?"
He huffed a bit at the suggestion he would be in need of inspiration for his writing but decided that it might be good to catch up on the doings 400 miles below (generally) and of his old employer (specifically). “Didn’t you hear? Nature has been outlawed in the Big City. They cut down the last tree years ago to comply with the law. No trees no leaves, no leaves no fall celebrations.”

Polly looked at him with a bit of a smirk on her lips as she handed him the paper.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the cost of a weekday edition of The Daily Fluxion and plunked it down on the counter as he took the paper. “Well, I have to run Polly. I have vegetables for supper melting out in my car.”

“You drove dear?”

“I was lazy.”

“Talk to you tonight!”

“Already looking forward to it!" he said in anticipation of their nightly call. And with parting pleasantries exchanged, Qwilleran made his way out, crossing a large doormat, which was less a ‘welcome’ and more a reminder to not let the cat out! A thought entered his mind that it might be a good thing that the bookstore didn't have automatic doors because he wasn't 100% sure the resident Bibliocat was completely literate! Besides, he chuckled to himself, most cats are not willing to follow verbal instructions much less written ones!


Back at the barn Qwill unpacked his purchases and cooked supper for himself and his two furry roommates.

“Okay kids," Jim announced, “Let’s go outside and enjoy the weather. OUT!”

Upon hearing the word “out” the cats began to dance and prance around, yowling and rowling in verbal ecstasy, tail tips twitching and whiskers bristling. He opened the door to their padded cat carrier and in they rushed - as always, competitive Koko first. On his way outdoors he eyed the newspaper he just bought and grabbed that too, figuring the cats would enjoy a good ‘read.’

Once outside and settled into the screened in gazebo, he announced, “Read!" He laughed out loud as he watched a confused Koko dashing back and forth, the male Siamese looking around for a bookshelf to jump up on to choose a book for the ‘read.’

“Sorry old boy. Not trying to trick you. I've already selected tonight’s reading. You should be interested – this is news from back home, or what used to be our home.”

Koko looked up at him and blinked. Yum Yum yawned. Undeterred their owner opened and spread out the pages of the Fluxion on his lap. He read aloud for a while, hypnotizing the cats. His reading voice always had this effect on them. It didn't matter if he was reading an intense story about some international devastation caused by a flood or earthquake, or a scandal about big government graft and corruption, or the sale ad from the Yarn Outlet.

In the distance thunder was heard and lights began to flash on the horizon.

“Here’s one: ‘Super Max Prison Stops Attempted Escape.' ‘The Treator Maximum Security Prison had yet another escape attempt on Tuesday night. This is the third attempted escape in the last two months. Prison officials have assured the public that all possible steps are being taken to prevent any escapes and to stop further attempts.’"

“Hmmm ... They don’t really give much information here Koko. I guess investigative reporting is going the way of the incandescent light bulb! No details, no attempt times listed, nothing about how they were caught. And no information if it was even a ‘they’ or a ‘him.' I don’t read any mention of names anywhere in this article! What is the journalistic world coming to my friend?”

But as Koko opened his mouth to reply, “BOOM!” came the answer from overhead. The cats almost hit the gazebo roof as they jumped.
"Let’s go!" Qwilleran yelled as he grabbed up the cats and pushed them into the carrier along with the paper.

He reached the barn as the first heavy drops of rain began to fall.