Hilary and the Beasts, Part 22

February 1930

It wasn’t until nearly three weeks later that Hilary finally got through to C.J at the Nixon, settling down on her bed shortly after Mrs. Fox’s warming breakfast of oatmeal, stewed apples with raisins, and sausage. “Hi, sis.” She was so happy to hear her little brother’s familiar dour voice, she almost gasped with happiness. “Sorry I haven’t been able to get to you. We’re knee-deep in rehearsals now.”

“I suppose,” Hilary muttered, “they’re going about as well as can be expected with that…that overstuffed Czechoslovakian wiener schnitzel in MY part.” 

C.J sighed. “It’s not that she’s a bad actress. She’s honestly good. She’s just all wrong for the part, and everyone but T.J Hunnicut knows it. I’ve seen icicles hanging off the theater that have warmer eyes. This part requires fire and passion, Hilary. You have it. She doesn’t.”

She couldn’t help smirking as she patted her auburn curls. “Thank you, C.J. I’ve always known that was my signature role. There’s no way that fat little poisoned ice cream cone could ever shine in my part.” Her eyebrow went up when she remembered what her brother said. “T.J Hunnicut? The producer? I should have known. He’d chase anything that had the right equipment and the same calculating little mind as him. No wonder she got her hooks into him.”

“Hilary, I don’t like this.” C.J’s voice picked up a note of concern. “He’s been…strange…when he hasn’t been in her dressing room or in the seats, watching the rehearsals. He’s been…distracted, dreamy. He’s usually a lot more astute than that. He hasn’t eyed one other starlet or given us notes on how the show’s going.” 

Hilary raised an eyebrow. “That’s really not like him. All he did when I was there was chase every woman in the chorus line and give every single person notes on what they were doing wrong.” She smirked. “Except me, of course. He knew me. I knew that role. I could do very little wrong.”

She could hear that silly brother of hers snickering. “Of course, Hilary.” The snickers vanished quickly as he coughed. “Hilary, he’s not the only one. I’ve talked to the other stage hands and a couple of the actors in minor roles. At least two producers in Europe have acted the same way around her, giving her parts and leading her around town. They’ve almost seemed…drugged, or under hypnosis, or something.”

“I knew that little overripe pastry was up to no good!” Hilary squealed. “She’d do anything to get a good part. Sure, I’ve…persuaded…a few producers in my time. More than a few. But I never did anything that would have left them more than a little sore and maybe with a few new blue vocabulary words in the morning!”

“I don’t like this.” C.J’s gentle voice became more urgent. “She doesn’t really talk about herself. She’ll talk about the roles she had in Europe, but not anything else.” His voice dropped. “And there’s rumors going around like wildfire about her. I’ve seen two government men here. They’ve seen men from the FBI here, asking questions. They haven’t talked to me yet, but they have questioned Hunnicut and the director.”

Hilary leaned back into her downy pillows. “Talk to those agents if you can, C.J. In fact, see if you can get anything out of them. That Eagle who keeps hiding in his rooms…when Maple and I finally got in there a few weeks ago, he was a one-man FBI network. There were maps and papers on the situation in Europe that I suspect they’d have a rather strong interest in.”

“Do you think,” C.J’s went on, “that’s the reason for all the silence among the staff? They probably found something out that Pavla doesn’t want anyone - especially the producers she’s got over a barrel - to know.” 

“I’d bet this entire house and all of its contents on it.” Hilary sighed. “Eagle’s been scarce again. He’s still sequestered with those papers. He’s trying to figure something out. I suspect Bear may have known something as well and been silenced for it. Troll, too. He and that Troll are kicking themselves over trying to protect each other from some horrible “she” they won’t name.” 

“Honestly, Hilary,” C.J gulped a little, “this is starting to scare me. If that ‘she’ or more robbers or anyone who looks the least unfriendly turn up, I want you and the girls to get out of there and find that bus station.” 

“We’ll be fine, C.J.” She looked up as she heard laughter from the window. “I need to talk to Betty and Maple. Thanks for calling me. I’ll be waiting for your next call on baited breath, little brother! Give Dad all of our love!”

“I will!” She sighed again as she put the receiver on the hook. She missed that crazy little brother of hers, and her father…but most of all, she missed the stage. The stage was her home. The footlights, the cramped dressing room, the well-wishers, the staging, the blocking…it was part of her soul. She would return to the stage, after she found out what was going on here. 

Her fingers were reaching for the phone again when she heard laughter out the window. They’d had three significant snowfalls in a row. This was the first time in over a week anyone had been able to get outside. Troll had all but yelled for Mr. Rabbit and Bear to shovel the walk. Betty and Maple insisted on helping out, and when they went out, so did Puppy. 

Even she couldn’t help smiling. They were supposed to be shoveling the main walk and the walks leading to the hot house and vegetable garden, but they were throwing more snow and snowballs than anything else. Poor Bear was so covered in snow, he more closely resembled a polar bear than a black bear. Maple chased Mr. Rabbit, trying to get snow down his back, as Puppy nearly fell over giggling.

They looked like they were having so much fun, she grabbed her own heavy coat and galoshes and joined them. She came out just as Betty managed to hit Bear with a rather large shovel-full of snow. He toppled into a snowdrift as she laughed, shaking her head. 

“Oh, you think Bear being cold is funny?” His muzzle turned up in a toothy grin as he swept out his thick furry leg. “Why don’t you join. Bear?”

“I…hey!” His leg swept through hers, knocking her rear-first into a snow drift. “You…ooh, come here, you silly polar bear!” She grabbed snow and threw it at him. His attempts at making snowballs only ended up with snow all over his paws. “Oooh, this is what you get for attacking an innocent maiden!” She giggled, landing a snowball on his nose as Puppy and Maple watched them, giggling. Even Mr. Rabbit’s twitchy muzzle cracked a smile.

“Ooh, that’s cold!” Bear threw handfuls of snow at her. “See how you like it!” He threw it down her back as she pulled away, squealing. 

The other two were nearly on the ground laughing and even Mr. Rabbit’s nose twitched with chuckles as Betty tried to shake the snow out of her old gray coat. “Oooh, you…you silly old bear!” They were both laughing as she tried to make another snowball…but her attempt to crawl out of the snowbank ended with her on top of him.

Bear’s big, strong breaths made white puffs in the frigid February air. “Uh…hi.” 

“Yeah,” she breathed. “Hi. I…” She finally lay on his red and black plaid flannel shirt. “You’re so comfortable, even if your fur is covered in snow! It’s like laying on a furry blanket.”

The wide, charming grin Bear gave her was so familiar! She knew it from…somewhere…on someone far less pleasant. “It is? You…you like Bear?”

She nodded. “I do.” 

Hilary coughed before this could go any further. “Um, excuse me! I thought you were all shoveling snow.” 

Bear immediately shot up, pulling Betty up with him. “Hilary!” She squeaked. “It was perfectly innocent!” 

“We observed the entire incident between them,” Puppy added, her voice breathless. “It was innocent, and so beautiful!” 

Maple smirked and nudged Betty so hard, she almost fell over Bear. “I knew you had it in ya!” She turned to Hilary and threw a snowball at her. “Why don’t you join in the fun?”

“Maple!” Hilary couldn’t help her chuckle. Now it was Bear and Betty who doubled over laughing as she and Maple threw snowballs and Puppy threw it down their backs. Mr. Rabbit returned to attempting to shovel.

Maple had just hit Hilary on the nose with a snowball when a familiar squawk hit their ears. “Eagle!” Her eyes flew upwards as the majestic winged half-man, half-bird soared across the ice-blue sky to the open windows of his rooms. “He’s back! I asked Mrs. Fox about him, an’ she said he was gettin’ his breakfast in the woods. Looks like he’s done.” She hefted the shovel over her shoulder. “Hilary, this would be a great chance to talk to him an’ find out what’s going on with him an’ those papers.”

“I agree.” Hilary brushed the snow off her good red wool coat. “I think it’s time we had a long talk - or as much as we can with a creature that can only squawk - with our patriotic Eagle friend.” She turned to Puppy. “Would you tell Mrs. Fox that Maple and I may be late for lunch? We need to talk to Eagle.” 

Puppy nodded. “Yes, Miss Hilary!” She hurried off to deliver the news to the sharp older vixen. 

Bear rubbed Betty’s gloved hand. “We read today?”

“Later, maybe before dinner.” Betty rubbed his paw gently. “I have radio scripts to work on. I’m way behind!” 

He kept rubbing, the wide amber eyes filled with childlike hope. “Promise? You promise Bear?”

“I promise.” She gave him a kiss on his furry forehead before heading back inside. 

Maple patted his shoulder. “Ya love her, don’t ya, Big Guy?”

“I think I do. She nice. Pretty. Smart.” He shook his furry head as he picked up the shovel. “Smart. Bear not smart. She needs smart.”

“But you’re good to her.” Hilary sighed. “If nothing else, you do drag her away from her typewriter. She tended to live there at home. She’d probably attach the thing to her permanently if she could figure out how.” 

He gave her that too-familiar big grin again. “I do?” 

“Yes.” She didn’t like that grin. It was too…charming. Conniving. Familiar. “Well, yes. Maple, let’s go see if we can catch the Eagle in his lair.” They hurried in the house after the soaring Eagle, leaving Bear and Mr. Rabbit to finish the shoveling. 

By this point, they were starting to figure the hallways out well enough to not need an escort everywhere. Maple probably could have found her way to Eagle’s office blindfolded. “I think I’m almost startin’ to understand him,” she was saying as they got upstairs. “He’s actually a pretty good talker, for a guy who talks with his wings.”

“I’m glad you do.” Hilary made a face as they made their way down the hall. “It still just looks like flapping to me.” 

“You gotta pay attention.” Maple stopped at the heavy door to his room, which had “Do Not Disturb” attached to it in a looping, slightly faded handwriting. “Eagle?” She knocked vigorously on the door. “Hey, it’s Maple n’ Hilary. We wanted to join ‘ya for lunch n’ talk to ya. You know, kinda chew the fat.”

Maple kept knocking for three solid minutes until a sun-yellow beak and curious whiskey-dark eyes poked out the door. “Hey, Eagle!” Her sister flashed him that wide toothpaste grin of hers. “Hi, buddy! How’s lunch?”

He waved his wings as they entered. There was a small space on the paper-strewn table with a plate covered in fish bones and entrails. Hilary made a face, ignoring the fish guts in favor of gathering some of the paperwork. “Eagle,” she said, “we need to talk to you.”

“Yeah!” Maple grinned and picked up one of the records from his desk. “Is this Red Nichols?” She nodded at a record player and recorder on an old table in a corner. “Hey, maybe we could cut a rug! I’ll bet you could get great traction, with those claws.”

Eagle rolled his dark eyes and angrily waved his wings at her. She made a face. “They’re not music? Radio recordings? Somethin’ to do wit’ your…broadcasts? You’re a broadcaster?” Her eyes widened. “And something to do with helping a friend?”

“A friend?” Hilary raised an eyebrow as she paged through the papers on Eagle’s heavily polished cherry wood desk. “How would a broadcast help a friend?”

Eagle’s wings moved even faster, his eyes wide and furious as he waved them. The thin peach lips disappeared almost all together. “Whoa, boy, slow down!” Maple waved her own hand, putting the disc on the corner of the desk. “You’re movin’ too fast for me to get half’a what you’re sayin’!” 

“Look, Eagle.” Hilary flipped through the volumes of loose papers, covered in what just looked like letters, numbers, and gibberish to her. “We need to talk to you about the curse. Most of this seems to be leading back to your work. Whatever is in here frightened that ‘she’ of yours badly, she turned you into a bird and completely shattered poor Bear’s brain.”

Eagle’s whiskey eyes clouded over with pure sadness and fury. He squawked angrily, one of his talons scratching hard at the paper Hilary held. “I’m sorry,” she admitted, “but this all looks like gibberish to me.” He settled down at his desk, staring morosely at his fish. He gave Maple a few half-hearted and sorrowful waves with his wings.

“Oh no,” Maple groaned. “You don’t blame yourself for what happened to everyone here, too! You think you should have stopped her somehow, gotten the word out faster.” 

She grabbed another chair, plopped down next to him, and shook his wings hard as she stared straight into his sorrowful eyes. “Now, you get it through your head, you little chick! None of this is anyone’s faults! You guys keep blamin’ yourselves. Hilary told me Bear thinks he caused all this, an’ Troll thinks it’s him. Don’t you think for a moment that doin’ somethin’ for your country is wrong! You’re savin’ lives here! It’s this…she…you guys keep talkin’ about, not all of you!”

Hilary sighed, nodding as Eagle stared hard at her. “I agree. What you’re doing here is worthy of presidential commendation, let alone an FBI investigation. We really need to get this to the authorities.” She shuffled the largest stack of papers. “If only I could figure out what this gibberish is! It just looks like letters and numbers to me. You wouldn’t know what it is, would you?”

He squawked, swinging his wings at the papers, inadvertently knocking most of them to the floor. “Did you do all this?” Maple asked as she and Hilary gathered the papers. “You really are a one-bird spy network!”

Eagle shook his head furiously. He poked his head and wing out the hall, waving in the direction of Troll and Bear’s rooms down the hall. “Those guys? Bear an’ Troll had somethin’ to do with this?” She watches his wings as they swooped over and around his head, trying to make words. “You’re goin’ too fast again!” She put a hand on his feathered shoulder as Hilary went over the papers. “That’s it, ain’t it? That’s why you were attacked. You three found out somethin’, an’ this ‘she’ didn’t like it. Somethin’ to do with the stuff goin’ on in Europe, right?”

She frowned as he nodded vehemently and then stared morosely at his wings. Maple’s face fell as his wings swooped…but this time, there was a decidedly defeated angle to their ruffling glide. “Aw honey.” His eyes widened when she folded her arms gently around his wings. “I know you’re upset that ya can’t talk an’ broadcast this stuff. I know it’s a big deal to ya. Hilary and I will make sure it gets out somehow.” She stroked the top of his balding head. He gulped hard, his own small Adam's apple bobbing. “I promise, ok?” All he could do was nod.

“Well!” Hilary stood, shuffling the last pile of papers to the desk. “I think I’ll just leave you two alone for a little while to work on deciphering all this. See you after dinner, Maple?”

Maple nodded…but she was still lost in Eagle’s soft brown feathers as he nuzzled her neck. “Uh huh. See ya later, Hilary. Hey!” She giggled as he nuzzled her. “You tickle!”

All Hilary could do was sigh again and head back out the door. She was sure of one thing. These animals were too flirtatious to be mere creatures…and she would find out who they were, before one or both of her sisters got hurt.