CHAPTER ELEVEN

Subway Station Eight had spray paint everywhere  down the stair walls and past the token booth all the way to the tracks:

 SUBWAY PEOPLE SUCK SLUGS SUBWAY PEOPLE SUCK SLUGS NIGHT BUDDIES AMALGAMATED YERK! YERK! YERK! YERK! SUBWAY PEOPLE SUCK SLUGS SUBWAY PEOPLE SUCK SLUGS YERK!  

  The same green scrawl over and over (and some black and yellow too) and all the way up the stair walls going out.

We went up to the token booth but nobody was in it.

“That’s weird  ” Cros snapped off his gimcrack.

“AT EATHE!”

“Har?”

Around from behind the token booth came this tiny little orange-haired woman with a fat fire hose aimed straight at Crosley!

“HANDS UP, CWOCODILE!”

“Yigg! Hey! Naw! Wait! Lookahere!” He waved the gimcrack with one foot and covered his eyes with the other  “Naw, lady!”

“FREETH! DON’T MOVE! DON’T EVEN SNIFF!”

I covered my ears and jumped in front of Crosley.

“It’s us, lady. Crosley an’ John from the last Program. Those spraypaintin’ crocodiles are fakes!”

She dragged her fat hose closer.

“Yeah? Tho pwoove it!”

“Please don’t shoot  !” Cros held the gimcrack out as far as he could and kept covering his eyes.

I grabbed it away from him and showed her. She held the hose on Crosley and squinted at the gimcrack and back at Crosley, then back at the gimcrack, and she kept the hose pointed right at him. Then, quick as that, she laid the hose down and gummed us this huge pink grin  

“So gwatifyin’ wunnin’ inta the two o’ ya again! Sowwy about the wuff stuff  ” She pointed around at the walls  “Ya do see what’s been goin’ on?”

“Oh, lady, ya did gimme such a fright!” Cros held his front feet over his heart. “But we understand, okay? Tell her we understand, John.”

“I’m sure she knows, Cros. Here’s your gimcrack back.”

“Right. Lissen, lady, we’re on a mission t’ put the kye-bosh on them crooked crocodiles, it just so happens, an’  ”

“Okay, hang on wight there,” she roared, and she went over and unlocked the token booth and sat and pushed two tokens out underneath the glass.

“Much obliged,” said Crosley. “I guess the ol’ mole milk place is still down there by the tracks?”

“Sure is,” boomed the little woman. “Only it don’t do mole milk no more, thank the stars!”

She held her nose and winked.

We waved to her and put our tokens in the turnstiles and trotted down the stairs.

“That gray door down there at the end of the platform, see it, John?”

“That’s it? Way down there?”

“Yeah, they couldn’t get a business license unless they put it underground.”

“You’re talkin’ stink?”

“I’m talkin’ industrial strength stink. Here’s your nose plugs.”

The spraypainting ran along the wall to the end of the platform and then doubled back underneath itself. It crossed the gray door going both ways and just missed the little brass plaque in the middle:

SUCK SLUGS SUBWAY PEOPLE SUCK SLUGS NIGHT BUDDIES AMALG

!KERY !KERY !KERY DETAMAGLAMA SEIDDUB THGIN SGULS KCUS

“Well?” I looked at Cros.

“Well what, man? Just knock.”

A train was pulling out of the station, and I waited till the noise died down and then knocked. We stood there a whole minute.

“Awright, buddy, try again. Hey, put your nose plugs in.”

I knocked a little harder, and we waited another whole minute.

“Led’s see if it’s locked,” I said.

“Yeah, good, see if it’s locked.”

I turned the knob and pulled, and the door opened right out, and we looked at each other and stepped inside this plain gray room. I mean really plain gray, because all there was was a gray metal desk by the back wall with a gray lamp and a gray laptop computer on it, and there was one gray chair in front of the desk and one more behind it and another door (a gray one) right behind that. And that was all. No other furniture, no pictures or rugs, no colors, nothing.

“Jeeks, Jod, I was lookid for more thad this.”

Just that second the door in back of the desk opened and this chalk-white old woman with thick glasses waddled out in a gray bathrobe.

“Crosley!” she squeaked. “So nice to see you back so soon!” She plopped down behind the gray desk and started brushing her gray hair out. “I see you brought John this time!”

“Yeah, right, we’re  ”

She smiled and brushed: “The girls, they’re all doing well?”

“Har?” blinked Crosley.

“Sorry, I’m forgetting my manners. Did you two come down for a shower?” She pointed to the door behind her: “I just finished my fourth one so you can go right in.”

“Shower?” Cros started backing up.

“Ged a grip,” I whispered. “Thags, lady, bud we really cabe down here t’ see aboud the mole milk.”

The old woman touched her white nose: “Oh? What can I tell you that you don’t already know?” She squinted at Cros through her thick glasses: “You’re sure Rayleen and Bobbi and Cora Sue are all right?”

Cros held out his front legs: “Lady, I ain’t god the faidest notion what you’re tawkid about.”

She put down her hairbrush and crossed her arms: “I’m talking about my livestock, Crosley. My milk moles. Just because I quit the business doesn’t mean I don’t still care about my girls.” She frowned: “I’m Miss Drusilla Stockbridge, by the way. Don’t you remember? And you can take out those nose plugs.”

Cros looked at me, then grinned at her and took them out: “Naw, Miss Drusilla, can’t say as I do remember. But it’s swell meetin’ ya all the same an’, hey, it don’t stink in here!”

Nobody said anything. Then the old woman put her hairbrush away in a drawer.

“Let me understand this, Crosley. You’re saying we’ve never met?”

“It ain’t so much I’m sayin’ it, Miss Drusilla, as that it’s a fat-butted solid certainty.”

“Then whom did I sell my poor girls to?” squeaked Miss Drusilla.

“Ya sold ‘em?” stared Cros. “Ya sold your milk moles?”

The old woman sniffed: “All of my business had dried up.”

Cros dropped down in the chair across from her: “Ya sold ‘em t’ somebody ya thought was me?”

“That’s the way it appears.”

“Look at this a second, Sister Drusilla, this here’s my I-D gimcrack.”

She took it and squinted at it.

“Didn’t show ya that, I bet, did he, Sister Drusilla?”

She handed the gimcrack back: “I never thought about anything like that. He paid cash and said he wanted to retire the girls on his estate.”

I put my nose plugs in my pocket: “It was the Iguana Gang, Miss Drusilla. They’ve got these Crosley disguises  ”

Drusilla’s eyes got real big behind her glasses: “I sold my girls to the Iguana Gang?”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about your girls,” said Crosley. “They’ll get treated real good. The lizards can’t do without ‘em.”

The old woman looked worried anyway: “You’re certain of that? You’re certain they won’t be ugly to them?”

“They may look ugly to ‘em,” chuckled Crosley, “but they sure won’t be ugly to ‘em. Them guys need their lizard cheese.”

“Anyhow,” I said, “that’s how come we’re here, Miss Drusilla. We’re gonna go rescue ‘em.”

Cros jerked around in his chair: “We are?”

“Sure we are, Cros. We came here t’ cut off the mole milk supply, didn’t we?”

Cros turned and grinned across Drusilla’s desk: “Sees through situations, don’t he, Sister?”

“He certainly appears to,” said Drusilla. “I feel better already.”

Cros looked over at me: “Hear that, buddy? Take an Excelsior!”

“Cut it out, Cros. That’s for real special stuff.”

“That there was real special, real nice. So take an Excelsior.”

“Wasn’t neither. Anybody coulda come up with that.”

“Was too.”

“Was too,” said Drusilla. “If an old woman’s peace counts for anything.”

“Aw  Okay, Excelsior. Now cool it, that’s two already.”

Cros looked satisfied and got up  

“Well, Sis Drusilla, I guess we oughta be findin’ our way on outta here in the furtherance of our mission.” He turned and scoped out the room: “Mighty drab in here, ain’t it, though? It’s all gray. Ever think o’ brightenin’ the place up a little, Sis Dru?”

She looked up: “This is the old dairy decor, Crosley. Mole milk’s gray, you knew that?”

“Naw! Nasty! I didn’t know that.”

“It surely is. I’ve scrubbed and scrubbed and finally gotten the smell out of the walls. And I was finishing my twenty-ninth shower this week when you came in.” She got up and waddled around the desk in her bathrobe: “You see those bracket marks on the wall there?”

Cros looked where she pointed: “Yeah  ”

“That’s where the the milking machine and the girls’ quarters were.”

“I bet the fake Cros took the milking machine,” I said.

“You bet correctly,” said Drusilla. “He made a point of that. And he bought out Lettie’s mothball supply too. At the Lizard Cheese Factory down in Station Seven.” She paused: “Lettie sells snow cones now.”

“That’s not good news about the mothballs,” growled Crosley.

“It’s done now,” sighed Drusilla. “But as I started to say, there’s no point in redecorating here. I’m so used to the color, and no one’s going to come in anyway.”

“They ain’t? So what’re ya doin’ in here, then? The sign said PARTY FAVORS.”

Drusilla grinned this big grin: “Well there you are! You’re standing in the new All-Night Party Favors Emporium! First one in the Borough!”

Cros looked around at the gray room again: “Strange thing about that is, I don’t see no party favors. I don’t even see no ice cream.”

Drusilla sat down behind her desk: “Just hold on now. What is the first thing you think of when you think of party favors? You too, John.”

“I hardly ever think about party favors,” I said. “Aren’t they the gimcracks an’ doodads like ya get at birthday parties?”

“Correct!” grinned Drusilla. “What sort of gimcracks and doodads?”

“I dunno. Any kind, I guess.”

“Absolutely right, John. But now, pretend you’re your mom and you get on the phone and try to order eight party favors for your son John’s birthday party  Whom do you call? And when you do call, what do you ask for? Please send me out eight party favors?” She looked back and forth at both of us.

Crosley sniffed: “Ya gotta tell ‘em more than that. Else ya might end up with eight spitballs.”

“Precisely!” Drusilla bounced in her chair and pointed her finger: “Party favors can be anything you want! There was a party in town just last week where all the children got horses!”

Cros scratched his snout: “I think I see where you’re goin’, Sis Dru. An’ hey, grownup parties can have party favors too, right?”

Drusilla was looking at her laptop: “Of course they can. And now when people plan parties, they can make just one call (to me, that is!) and order as many party favors as they like, of whatever size, shape, and description they like! I take care of everything.”

I pointed around the room: “Yeah, Miss Drusilla, but how do ya do all that? Ya got no space for horses in here, an’ I don’t see any frisbees an’ widgets neither. Where’s all that stuff comin’ from?”

The old woman looked down: “This laptop right here, John, and the cell phone in my bathrobe pocket.”

“Oh, right,” I said, “I get it. You connect the party givers up with the suppliers.”

“Exactly! See, Crosley, I told you he was insightful.”

Crosley’s jaw dropped: “Har? I thought I told you that.”

“Just joking,” laughed Drusilla. “But John’s right. I’m what’s called a Nighttime Party Favors Network Facilitator. I never see the merchandise, but John’s mom can call me all night long and get eight soap bubble kits or a dozen live monkeys delivered direct to her doorstep before school lets out tomorrow afternoon!”

“Solid!” I said. “Parties sure must be happy t’ have you.”

“Well thank you, John, I hope so. I’ve been on the phone lining up suppliers ever since the girls left. In between all of the showers  ”

“EXCEL  !”

Cros grabbed his jaws: “  Sorry!  What I mean is, have ya hooked up with Big Foot Mae yet, Sis Drusilla?” He slid back down in his chair: “Huh? Have ya?”

“The Manager at the Pineapple Cheesecake Factory? Yes, three days ago.”

“Whad she say? I mean  You guys made a business arrangement, right?”

“Ut! Cros, you cut that out right now!”

“Sister Drusilla, I’d like t’ place an order.”

Drusilla looked at her laptop: “Well, I’m not officially open till night after tomorrow but  All right, where’s the party to be?”

“Party? Oh, right, the party’s at my place.”

Drusilla tapped some keys: “Pineapple cheesecake party favors? For how many guests?”

Cros hesitated: “  Uh  Eighty-three.”

“Really big party.” Drusilla tapped some more keys: “What’s the occasion?”

“Har?”

“To put on the pineapple cheesecake containers.”

“I’ll think o’ one,” said Crosley. “Don’t bother with that, though. These party favors don’t require no special wrappin’.”

Drusilla looked up: “Address?”

“Don’t write that in neither. Mae awready knows.”

“Cros, your mouth’s drippin’ all on your pants!”

“Yigg! Hang on  ” He yanked out his big red handkerchief and wiped.

Drusilla squinted back at her screen: “All right, method of payment?”

“Here, I awready showed ya  ” Cros snapped out his I-D gimcrack and Drusilla nodded and tapped some more keys.

“What ya writin’ down now?”

“Just data for my files,” said Drusilla.

“What data just for your files?”

“The data on your gimcrack: Night Buddies Amalgamated  We Help Out.”

“Oh sure, okay.”

“Just something to have in my Method of Payment column.”

“Awright.”

Drusilla punched a whole lot of keys and then read out loud:

“Eighty-Three Party Favors
(Plus Two Complimentary Spares)
Pineapple Cheesecake Option,
Delivery by Common Carrier
Guaranteed by Two-Fifteen Tomorrow,
Address to be Provided by Supplier  

She looked up: “  How’s that suit you, Crosley?”

Cros’s eyes were real big around and he was nodding YES up and down and up and down.

“He can’t talk till he gets done droolin’, Miss Drusilla, but ya can see his answer plain enough.”

“Fine,” smiled the old woman, and she stuck a finger out and punched ENTER. “My very first customer!”

I started to laugh: “Who all’s comin’ t’ your party, Cros? Wait, don’t tell me  !”

Drusilla waved a hand: “  Hold on, boys, here’s a personal message coming in  from BFM.”

“What’s she say?” said Cros. “Oops!” He whipped out his handkerchief and wiped again.

Drusilla squinted through her glasses: “BFM says, Thanks for the order and say hey to Big Brown Eyes and King o’ the Hogs, From Johnson and Big Foot.”

She looked up: “Who’s Johnson?”

I jabbed Cros: “Finish droolin’, I’ll tell her!   Johnson is the great big giant pineapple cheesecake machine, Miss Drusilla. The only one in the world.”

“Well, of course, I ought to have known that,” said Drusilla. And she stood up.

“We got t’ know Johnson an’ Big Foot real good on our last Program,” I said.

“I’m sure that must have been fascinating,” Drusilla said. “And now, if we’re finished, I’ve got one more shower to take to finish my course of treatments.”

Cros swallowed and felt around his mouth: “Yeah, Sis Dru, why don’t ya just go do that, an’ me an’ John’ll get started on the milk mole business.”

Miss Drusilla opened the door behind her desk: “I’m so grateful to you gentlemen. Listen, I’ll be more than happy to give the iguanas their money back  ”

Cros got up: “Yerk! Yerk! We’ll be sure an’ tell ‘em that if we get the chance.”

“You’ll excuse me then, won’t you?” said the chalky old woman. “Please feel free to browse!”

Cros and me grinned at each other: “Thanks,” I said. “An’ you have yourself a super shower, Miss Drusilla.”

She wrinkled her little white nose: “I’m sure I shall, Big Brown Eyes!” and she shut the door after her before I could stick out my tongue.