The Case of the Loose Cannon

Summer was winding down. Autumn peered out from deep within the woods, getting ready to sneak up and pounce on everyone. Birnie and Biwi had just returned from an overseas bombing raid and now busied themselves cleaning and tuning up the Bear Cat biplane. Brighton and Benjamin sat and held paws and stared deep into each other’s eyes. Shoshonna had set about teaching some dance steps to an embrace of enthusiastically twisting, gyrating Teds. Letta leaned in close to her hand mirror and tried out different eye shadows. Kippy and Mr. Fluffy sat quietly, sipping honeyed strawberry tea and earnestly discussing important stuff together. Sherman and several other Teds listened to a Cubs game on the radio, alternately cheering and looking despondent. Mack kept close eye on everyone and busied himself entering gold stars and black marks into his little black book.

Itsy sat on a blanket with Lily-pop, Sparkie, and Waldo, where she was telling the other three a story. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say she was telling them “the” story, or “her” story, since she only ever told them the exact same story over and over again, much to Benjamin’s continuing dismay. The three little ones never seemed to tire of it, however. Indeed, they appeared to find comfort in the repetition of the same words and rambling story with Itsy’s every retelling.

“Once upon a time,” she began, as she always began, “there was a beeeUUteeful princess, queen, king, empress, abentcherer, nurtz named ITSY!”

“Oooh,” groaned Benjamin, covering his ears with his paws, “not again!”

Brighton put her arms around him and cooed, “Don’t let it bother you, Cuddles. She’s just a little baby. She doesn’t know any better.”

“But she repeats it over and over and over again!” Benjamin complained plaintively. “I feel like my head’s about to explode!”

“Come here, Cuddle-wuddles,” Brighton soothed. “Let your Sweetpie make it all better.”

“Ahhh,” Benjamin sighed. “What would I do without you? I’d be lost and all alone and probably driven half out of my mind by her and her one story that’s always the same and her cannon that she always has to fire off right in my ear and her general obnoxiousness that goes on and on and never, ever lets up!”

“Shhh, shhh, my Lover-dover. Let’s just snuggle up and forget all our troubles,” Brighton urged solicitously.

“You’re right, Dear Heart. It’s just you and me,” Benjamin agreed, snuggling up to his sweetheart, “against the world.”

Eventually, Itsy’s story drew to its inevitable conclusion. “An’ that’s how Itsy the beeeUUteeful princess, queen, king, empress, abentcherer, nurtz saved the world! Then ev’rybody lived happily ever after. The end!”

To emphasize the wonderfulness of the finale of her story, Itsy reached over to fire off her cannon. But all her paws grasped was air. When she looked to where her cannon was supposed to be, it wasn’t there! Looking first to the other side of her and then behind her and then behind the other little ones, she still could not find her cannon anywhere.

“Where’s my cannon?” she wondered aloud.

“Yeth, where’s Itsy’s cannon?” Lily-pop asked, looking a little fearful.

“I don’t know!” Sparkie and Waldo answered at the same time.

“Hey, somebody stealed my cannon!” Itsy cried.

“Or maybe you loosed it,” Sparkie offered.

“How could I loose it?” Itsy wanted to know. “I always take it with me ev’rywhere I go.”

“Yeth, we take it with uth ev’rywhere,” Lily-pop confirmed.

“Well, who could steal it?” Waldo asked.

“An’ why would they steal it?” Sparkie inquired.

“I don’t know,” Itsy said. “But I’m going to find out.”

“How?” Sparkie asked.

“I’m gonna be a deteckive an’ find out who stealed it,” she told the three of them.

“How can you do that?” asked Waldo.

“I’m gonna be dus’ like Miss Marble on the telebision an’ look for clues an’ axe peoples lots of questions,” Itsy answered, “until I find out who took it an’ where they put it. Then I’ll get it back, an’ we’ll arrest the bad guy an’ lock him in jail an’ prob’ly electrifry him.”

“Oooo, cool,” said Sparkie admiringly. “I’ll help!”

“I’ll help, too,” volunteered Waldo.

“Me, too,” said Lily-pop quietly, at the same time taking a tight hold on Itsy’s left paw.

“Okay, then,” Itsy said. “I’m the boss deteckive, an’ you can all be my helpers.”

“Okay, what do we do first?” asked Sparkie.

“The first thing deteckives do is go over the seam of the crime an’ look for clues,” Itsy informed them authoritatively.

“Oh,” said Sparkie.

“What’s the seam of the crime?” Waldo asked.

“Right here,” Itsy told him, “where the cannon was before it got stealed. So this is where we gotta start looking for clues.”

“Like what?” asked Sparkie.

“Like paw prints or tire tracks or maybe somefing the thief forgot or dropped like a knife or a machine gun or a pitcher with his face on it,” Itsy explained.

“Can we keep the machine gun if we find it?” Sparkie wanted to know.

“Yetz,” Itsy said. “’Cause we’re deteckives, and we get to have whatever a thief leaves behind.”

“Okay, then let’s start looking!” Waldo exclaimed, lifting up a corner of the blanket and looking under it. “Nothing here,” he said.

“Nuffing here, neither,” Lily-pop said, delicately lifting the corner diagonally across the blanket from Waldo’s corner and peeking under.

“There’s tracks over here!” cried Sparkie.

“Where?” asked Itsy, excitedly, as she ran over to the side of the blanket where Sparkie was standing.

“Right there,” Sparkie said, pointing down at the ground.

Squatting down, Itsy took a closer look at where Sparkie pointed as the other two little ones ran over to get a closer look for themselves as well.

“Them’s tracks all right,” Itsy confirmed. “They ain’t paw tracks neither ‘cause they just make squiggly lines in the grass.”

“What are they tracks of, then?” Waldo wondered.

“Prob’ly tire tracks,” Itsy decided. “Cannon tire tracks.”

“So all we have to do is follow them, and we’ll find out where the cannon went!” Sparkie suggested.

But when they tried following the tire tracks, they found they went to lots of different places: under the blanket, over to the wood’s edge, around and around the beehive, over to the deck, out to the front of the house – all places Itsy had dragged her cannon earlier in the day.

They gathered back at the blanket and tried to do some more thinking about how to find the missing cannon.

“Let have a line-up,” Sparkie suggested.

“Yeah,” enthused Waldo. “We could line ev’rybody up and look at them to see who did it.”

But when they went to ask Birnie and Biwi for their help rounding up a line-up, Birnie pointed out that they hadn’t been able to find a witness to the crime yet. “And you need a witness to tell you which one in the line-up did it,” he concluded.

“Oh,” said Waldo.

“Oh,” echoed Lily-pop.

“Now what are we gonna do?” Sparkie asked despondently.

“Let’s go question somebody,” Itsy said decisively. “That’s what you do when you’re a deteckive.”

“Yeth, let’th question somebody,” Lily-pop agreed, and everybody cheered up at the idea.

“Who should we question?” Waldo wanted to know.

Looking around them, Itsy thought a minute, then decided, “Shoshonna. She’s the closest.”

So they walked over to Shoshonna and the embrace of Teds she was teaching to dance. Never one to beat around the bush, Itsy got right to the point. “Hi, Shoshonna. I’m being a deteckive and these guys are my helpers. I gotta axe you some questions, okay?”

Shoshonna stopped dancing in mid-step and nodded her head, “Okay,” she said. “What do you want to know about, Sweetie?”

“I ain’t Sweetie,” Itsy reminded her. “I’m Itsy. An’ I wanta axe you where were you when my cannon distappeared?”

“Have you lost your cannon?” Shoshonna asked, gazing over at the blanket where the little ones had been sitting while Itsy was telling her story.

“It didn’t get loosed,” Itsy informed her firmly. “Somebody stealed it. An’ we’re gonna find out who did it, so we could get it back.”

“An’ arreth’ the bad guy,” piped up Lily-pop.

“An’ lock him up in jail,” Waldo added.

“An’ prob’ly electrify him,” Sparkie concluded.

“My goodness,” exclaimed Shoshonna. “That’s a little extreme for such a minor crime, don’t you think?”

“What’s a minor crime?” asked Waldo.

“A little crime,” Shoshonna explained.

“It ain’t little,” Itsy said, adamantly. “It’s a big cannon.”

“Oh, I see,” said Shoshonna.

“So where were you when it distappeared?” Itsy asked her again.

“That’s hard for me to say,” Shoshonna replied, “since I didn’t even realize it had disappeared until you told me.”

“Oh,” said Itsy, looking a little disappointed and uncertain of what to do next.

“But it might be helpful,” Shoshonna offered, “if you asked me when the last time was that I did see it.”

“Yetz!” exclaimed Itsy, noticeably heartened by the suggestion. “That’s a good question, Shoshonna! Fank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Shoshonna replied.

“So when did you see my cannon the last time?” Itsy asked.

“Well, let’s see. I remember you pulling it over to the blanket,” Shoshonna answered. “Then I think I remember you pulling it onto the blanket. That’s when we started dancing, and I don’t remember noticing you guys or the cannon after that.”

“Did you see anybody sneaking around over there by the cannon?” Itsy asked.

Shoshonna thought a moment, then answered, “No, not that I can remember. But you should ask my dance class. Maybe one of them saw something and could give you a lead.”

“Yeah, maybe they could give us a clue, too,” Itsy agreed. Turning to the class, she asked, “Did any of you guys see anybody sneaking around over by us while I was telling my story?”

But none of them could recall seeing anything more than what Shoshonna had seen. So Itsy and her three helpers went over to question Kippy and Mr. Fluffy about what they knew about the crime.

Meanwhile, Biwi had come over to the deck to look over Mack’s shoulder as he apportioned his gold stars and black marks in his little black book. Benjamin and Brighton had gotten quite comfortable by this time. Benjamin had his head in Brighton’s lap, his eyes closed, and a quite self-satisfied smile played across his lips.

“Whoa!” Biwi exclaimed. “That’s a lot of black marks, Mack! I don’t remember you ever giving out so many to one Ted before.”

Mack made no comment, but Benjamin’s smile faltered somewhat.

“What have you been doing to deserve all those black marks, Benjamin?” Biwi asked him.

“Me!?!” asked Benjamin, sitting up suddenly with a look of surprised chagrin on his face. “Black marks!?!”

“What did he do?” Biwi asked Mack.

But all Mack would say in his deep, rumbling growly voice was, “He knows.”

“What? Me? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Benjamin blustered.

“You know all right,” Mack said quietly, still patiently filling in Benjamin’s black marks.

“No, I don’t,” Benjamin insisted. “I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about. And neither do you!” He was wide awake by now.

“You know better than that,” Biwi told him. “Mack sees all and knows all.”

That seemed to shake Benjamin up a bit, but then he straightened his shoulders and again insisted, “That’s silly. He does not. He didn’t even notice when I, uh, when, when I was in the bedroom doing something and he was out here. Nobody could see all and know all.”

“At least one person does,” Biwi asserted. “And that’s what I’d be worried about if I were you.”

“What do you mean?” Benjamin asked, a note of hysteria rising in his voice. “Nobody could do that. They’d have to have eyes in the back of their…. Oh.”

“Yeah,” said Biwi. “Oh. Mommola has eyes in the back of her head. She sees everything and knows everything. You can’t hide anything from her.”

“Oh,” Benjamin repeated, numbly. “Yeah. Mommola.”

“Yeah, Mommola,” Biwi agreed. “You might want to consider what she’s going to think about what you did. Whatever it was.”

“Ulp,” gulped Benjamin miserably, while Brighton tried her best to comfort him.

Just then Itsy and her three detective helpers approached to ask questions about the disappearance of the cannon.

“You might want to start with Benjamin,” Biwi sardonically suggested to her.

“Okay,” she said and marched right over to where he sat huddled in Brighton’s protective arms. By now she had refined her interrogation technique and so began by asking him, “Where was the last place you saw my cannon?”

“Your cannon?” Benjamin asked with his best look of innocence.

Mack looked up from his book and over at Benjamin. Benjamin gulped once more and said, “Oh, yes, your lovely cannon. Hmm, let me think. Where did I last see it? Um, well, I think it might have been in the bedroom.”

“In the bedroom?” Itsy asked, surprised by this unexpected response.

Mack continued to stare at Benjamin.

“Erm, yes, I do believe that’s where I last saw it,” Benjamin confirmed. “In the bedroom.”

“Where in the bedroom?” Biwi asked.

“Oh, uh, where? In the bedroom? Umm, let me think,” and Benjamin stared off into space a moment.

“I’m sure your memory is good enough to recall where you last saw such a big thing as Itsy’s cannon,” Biwi observed dryly.

“Oh, yes, of course, now I remember,” Benjamin suddenly exclaimed. “It was in the bedroom, like I said. Um, under the bed, if I remember right.”

“Under the bed?” Itsy asked.

“Er, yes, I believe…” Mack and Biwi both stared hard at him. “Um, that is, yes, I’m certain. That’s where I saw it last. Under the bed. In the bedroom. Yes, that’s where it was. I’m certain.”

“Com’on!” Itsy cried to her helpers, and they raced off into the house and on into the bedroom, only to reemerge moments later, dragging her cannon triumphantly after them.

“I knowed we could find it,” Itsy avowed.

“Yeah, ‘cause we’re deteckives!” Sparkie said excitedly.

“The best deteckives ever!” exclaimed Itsy.

“That you are,” Biwi agreed, glowering over at Benjamin, who chimed in, “Oh, of course, you’re the best. Um, the best detectives ever.”

“Fank you for ‘membering where you saw it, Benjamin,” she said to him.

“Um, oh, well, it was nothing,” he stated. “Really. Nothing at all.”

“All’s well that ends well, I guess,” Biwi observed wrly.

“Yetz,” said Itsy.

“’Cept we didn’t get to ‘rest nobody,” Sparkie complained.

“Or ‘lectrifry ‘em neither,” Waldo added.

“Well, at least you got Itsy’s cannon back,” said Letta. “That’s what counts, isn’t it?”

“Yeth, that’th what countth,” Lily-pop agreed.

“Yeah, prob’ly,” said Waldo.

“I guess,” said Sparkie.

“Ka-WHOOMPF!” went Itsy’s cannon.

“Oh, my ears!” exclaimed Benjamin, holding his paws to said ears.

A few short minutes later, the four little ones were seated in a circle back on their blanket, with Itsy’s cannon parked in the middle of them.

“Tell uth a thtory, Itsy!” Lily-pop requested.

“Yeah, tell us a story,” Waldo begged.

“Okay,” Itsy agreed. “Once upon a time,” she began, as she always began, “there was a beeeUUteeful princess, queen, king, empress, abentcherer, nurtz, deteckive named ITSY!”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” groused Benjamin.

“Look on the bright side,” Biwi smiled. “At least she finally changed her story. Somewhat.”

“Ha ha,” grumbled Benjamin as Brighton drew him back into the comfort of her arms.