SHIP'S LOG:

WonderFly9000

Milt McGee 7/16/2023 9:05pm

Tom and his band of mountain cat commandos made good crew. They were well disciplined, came well supplied with their own rations, and took up just about as much space and weight as a full load of milk bottles, so the WonderFly9000 wasn't too overburdened.

They were freebooters, and Tom had fallen into a windfall he'd never dreamed could come true. I explained the plan in detail.

"You're just putting me on," he asked over the eastern edges of the hinterlands.

"No, I'm afraid not.

And days later, as we skirted the coast of the Breakfast Sea.

"This all can't be true, is it?"

"I'm afraid it is, Tom."

And, as The Needles came in sight over the western horizon:

"You're really not fooling, are you?"

"No I'm not fooling, Tom."

Milt McGee 3/29/2023 11:54pm

It was clear that Tom had a special feeling for milk.

"Yeah, as a little kitten I used to sleepwalk quite a bit."

The rest of Tom's mountain cat commandos had fallen asleep, gently snoring here and there about the decks of the WonderFly9000. But Tom had a kind of preternatural energy about him. We stayed up talking on the bridge, looking out over the tops of the trees we were anchored to.

"We lived in a barn in a valley at the edge of a forest. I'd get up in the middle of the night... no memory of any of this, mind you... and somehow make it down from the hayloft. My momma'd wake up and take a count and find I wasn't there, but after awhile she knew where she could find me."

"Where's that?"

"Sitting up right in the middle of the field, starin' up at the Milky Way with my tongue out."

"Aw, that's cute."

"Yeah, but I'd have a splash of milk on my nose. Or my forehead, or my tongue sometimes. Devil's Milk my momma'd call it. I'd get a whippin."

"Oh, that's too bad," I said.

"She was a mean old queen. But that whippin'd wake me up. And you know what? When I woke up I'd taste that milk. And that's a taste you don't ever forget."

"And that's why you and I are especially well suited, Tom," I said. "Because that's right where we're headed."

Milt McGee 12/23/2022 11:55pm

"Meeeooooowwwwwyou've got some serious milk here, if I'm not mistaken."

It was a mountain cat commando of some kind.

"Call me Tom," he said. He had bandoliers and big whiskers, a camo shirt with the arms torn off into a vest, his big tabby fur busting through. "If you just sit tight, I'm sure we can conduct our business amicably." He was also armed with a small automatic weapon, which he pointed at me. "Boys!" he called.

The WonderFly9000 was being boarded by a whole squad of mountain cat commandos.

"Sitting tight!" I said, as amicably as I could.

It didn't take long for the mountain cats to discover this milk blimp was empty.

"Then what's that smell?" asked Tom.

"It's an old milk blimp," I answered, amicably. "Bottles get broke. No use cryin'. But it does tend to seep into the wood."

"Not that old stink. I know the musky scent of old spilt milk when I smell it." Tom took a walk around the empty cargo bay, where I was being kept under gun point. "This is something... a whole lot deeper. Richer. Like... that smell babies have on their heads... but they're baby GODS..."

Even Tom's squad was looking at him funny.

"Like... the nectar of a primordial ocean of milk! The gods themselves bathe in it to create their divinity! Churning, at the beginning of time..."

How could Tom have known all that? How could he have smelled it on me?

His big giant oval pupils dilated as he looked at me for the answer.

All his men cocked their guns.

"Tom... how would you be interested in a partnership?" I asked.

Milt McGee 9/30/2022 11:39pm

I'd headed northwest, over the rolling forest for miles and miles, till the spotting tower was well out of sight. Then I took a hard right to the northeast.

Night began to fall. In a pinch, a solo sky sailor might lock the rudder and take a nap at the wheel. That's fine if you're deep in the open spaces, and the tingle bells and storm lights are meant to give any approaching ships fair warning. But those precautions won't keep you from being boarded, and I was running dark and silent. So to be on the safe side I had to drop tree anchor and get some shut eye.

It wasn't unheard of for a mountain cat to climb the anchor rope of a milkship in search of a drink, but the Wonderfly was empty. Not even empty bottles on board. For the time being.

"Meowrrrrrrr?"

There may be some old stinky spilled milk soaked into the decking, come to think of it.

Al 7/18/2022 11:57pm

Yes, I know for a fact he headed out today.

(muffled meows)

Check with the spotting towers and I'm sure they'll have a record.

(muffled meows)

You just keep your eye on him when he gets there....

(muffled meows)

Yeah yeah, I'm tellin' ya -- he's the only one they'll let in. He's the key.

(muffled meows)

You just leave Patsy out of it, like we agreed, and I'll make sure he sees the light.

Milt McGee 4/19/2022 9:59pm

"Ahoy blimpship!" called the spotting tower.

I'd pulled the WonderFly9000 down to walking speed, just to keep things on the up and up.

"Ahoy tower! Any news?" I yelled back, as hard as I could.

"Fair weather ahead! Barometer rising! No fires or incursion spotted!"

"Roger that!" I yelled back.

The spotter was no doubt recording our markings in her book. Nothing but an old milk frigate on a journey to the hinterlands.

Which is why I kept her slow as we passed out over the forest. A milk truck has a certain gait, more so when she's full of milk, but even when she's empty her bottles weigh her down.

Which is why I unloaded all the empties and the racks before I left. Stacked them up in the shed behind my house, back in the valley.

"Don't you worry, @Patsy McGee," I said. "You know I'll be back, and we can get back to the small town livin' we've always wanted."

Patsy looked at me and shook her head.

"Are you kidding?" she asked. "I'll be long gone. This place ain't safe anymore. And I don't rightly know where is."

Milt McGee 2/11/2022 11:31pm

I made a pretty good life of it as a milkman. Patsy was a real good sport about moving here and starting over, showing up at bake sales and suppers at the Presbyterian church. And I found myself settling into the rhythms of a steady job and small town life and really enjoying it. It was a breath of fresh air.

But sometimes you just can't outrun your past. Maybe nobody can.

I had finally made the big score. The one that was going to let me quit the life and get out of the business. The one that was going to let me retire to some small town with my lovely life and just enjoy the passing of the rest of our days.

It was an exceptionally large score, even for me. I had experience, and I knew just the right people to get it off my hands quickly and still set us up for life.

But there's some milk that just won't wash off your hands.

Milt McGee 12/19/2021 11:56pm

"I assume this is about the milk," said Al. If he'd had a bad moment with the big cat, you couldn't tell. Al was as cool as ever, and his cramped office wasn't any more messed up than usual.

"Well yes, that's right, Al."

You might think your town is too small for an Al in it, but you're wrong. Every town, no matter how small, has an Al. Somebody that can help you out when you're in a hole. Somebody with connections.

"I'm afraid I can't help you out of this," said Al. "Big connections are calling in a favor. They want the milk. You and I talked about he risks, and here we are."

We had talked about the risks. But I hadn't figured it'd come to this.

"I understand you have responsibilities, Al," I said. "And I stand by our agreement. I know you've done your best by me. I still consider you a friend."

"That's right neighborly of you," said Al. "I consider you a friend as well."

Al and I sat there for a moment, looking over his messy desk in the cramped back room.

"So," I said. "Guess I'll be heading out."

"I guess so. Good luck, Milt."

"Thanks Al."

Milt McGee 10/28/2021 11:07pm

"Howdy, Milt."

"Howdy Ben."

The Milk Bar is pretty empty this time of day, which suits me just fine.

"Al in?"

"Yup. But he's got company. Won't be long."

I took a seat at the bar.

"Milk?" asked Ben.

"Nah, make it a soda water."

"Soda water, eh? With milk in it?"

"No, just plain. Plain soda water."

"Milk back with that?"

"No thanks, Ben, just a soda water."

Ben went to the back of the bar, rummaged around, and came back.

"Sorry, out of soda water."

"Aw, that's ok."

"Milk?"

"No thanks, Ben."

Just then Al's door in the back slammed open, and out walked the biggest two legged cat I'd ever seen. Six foot five at least, wearing an orange muumuu, a big blond wig, platform shoes and beads. She stormed past us, knocking me into the bar and practically taking the front door off its hinges her her way out.

"Looks like Al's free," said Ben.

Milt McGee 9/11/2021 11:42pm

Those old barncats sure can raise a stink. I could see they weren't going to let me get away with my dream of idyllic small town life -- not so long as their precious Milk hangs in the balance.

I'd kept them happy and forgetful with the regular milk. Ol' Bessie and the cows at the local dairy seem to have no complaints providing it, day in, day out, and for a time it kept the cats fat and happy.

But not that old Bobtail. He was always so cautious. Never let himself be pet. Always sure there'd be strychnine in the milk, or that I had a burlap sack ready to scoop him up and take him down to the river. Which really is not how I operate. But old Bobtail got his crusty eye opened up and as soon as he could see through it he knew there was something missing. He knew the REAL milk was missing. And he wouldn't be happy till he had it back.

Trouble is, I'm not sure I can get it back myself.