What kind of Pet?

Gerald looked confused; it was a look that often crossed his coarse features. Teague told him; “I said that they took Pecht from her, not that they took her pet”. The third man who was larger still than both of the other two large men looked at the interaction with a slight smile on his plain, serious face.

Gerald spoke once again; “well what kind of pet did the cook lady keep? Was it a dog, a cat, a rabbit?” Teague slowly shook his head as the bruiser continued with his not quite tirade; maybe it was a speech, it was at least said with conviction.

Gerald had more to say. “my little sis kept a rabbit when I was a boy. Everyone loved that thing, but it didn’t much care for me. That damn coney bit me three times before it had an accident.” Fitz, the largest of the three big men looked interested as Gerald spoke again. “Anyhow, Gerald stated, I had the last laugh because that rabbit were damned delicious”.

Teague was a quiet man by nature. Both in his manner of speaking, or rather lack thereof; as well as the fact that he was fairly quiet when he moved about in his daily routines. Teague spoke less than anyone he knew: this was in direct opposition to Gerald who was prone to speak more than nearly anyone that Teague had ever known.

Gerald was one of the men who worked for the Penrose enterprise. The rough bruiser had worked for Mr. Penrose longer than Teague, or even Fitz, but he was still less than either of the other two large men. Gerald was mainly a collector of weekly tribute for Mr. Penrose, and in that capacity he tended to be more rough than was needed.

The first time that Teague had met Gerald had been several years prior; when Gerald had been collecting the “weekly” from Flowry’s, which was a thriving floral shoppe that Teague’s Mamm had run for years.

Teague had been back from the Great War only briefly and was unaware that his Mamm paid a weekly tribute to Mr. Penrose.

Even then; things might have gone quite differently if Gerald had not been a bit insolent when asking Teague for the weekly due. Now normally Teague would have put up with a portion of untoward behavior, and paid out the requested sum to the brute, but Gerald made the mistake of offering a few rude comments directed to Teague’s dear Mamm. Well that was not something that Teague would allow to stand.

Teague had taken Gerald out back behind the shoppe and given him such a thrashing that the bruiser was left lying senseless for hours out back.

Gerald was of a height with Teague, who was no small man, but the enterprise brute weighed probably two stone more. That was of little matter. Teague had not lost a fight since he was eight years old; and his time in the fields and trenches during the Great War had only built on skills and inclinations that made him a terrible foe.

The truly strange thing about that first encounter was that it had led him to meeting his future employer Mr. Penrose the very next day.

Penrose had come to Flowrys along with two of his other troubleshooters. Fitz had been there along with another of Penrose’s large men.

The intention of his employer on that first meeting, had been to teach Teague a lesson; but instead had ended their first encounter by offering Teague a job after the veteran had taken Fitz and the other man behind the shoppe and thrashed them both senseless.

“For the last time Gerald,” Teague exclaimed, “Rowena did not have a pet taken from her. She didn’t have a dog, nor cat, a rabbit or even a giraffe. There were no pet at all at the Cornish”. Fitz noticed a look on Gerald’s face at the mention of a giraffe. “A giraffe you say”, said Gerald,” now that’s plain silly Teague, why would someone have a giraffe in a restauraunt?”

Teague slowly shook his head in frustration as Gerald continued. “A giraffe aint nearly a proper pet if I say so myself.” And Gerald did say so himself; and he continued with “though I have seen me a giraffe the one time I went to the circus what was in town last fall”,

Fitz could see that Teague was getting annoyed, and still Gerald spoke. “Funny looking creatures them giraffes; and I don’t reckon they would make a good pet anyhow”.

Fitz finally spoke up; a bit loudly he said “shut your pie hole Gerald!”

Teague looked relieved when Gerald did finally shut his pie hole at Fitz’s insistence.

Teague waited a moment before telling the other two men, “now Mr. Penrose wants you two to accompany me while I do a bit of looking about to see if I can find and recover Rowena’s pixie.”

Fitz looked surprised at Teague’s mention of the origin of Rowena’s Special Ingredient; which was not at all surprising considering that Teague was speaking of something out of a fairy tale like it was an everyday thing.

Gerald’s jaw dropped and he blurted out, “are you putting me on?”

Fitz, with his hair the color of pitch, and a calm serious face mimicked Gerald’s question. “Are you putting us on Teague?”

Teague looked both men in the face and told them, “I wouldn’t have believed it myself before this morning”.

Gerald raised his hand like a boy in primary school. Teague and Fitz looked at the bruiser in confusion, or maybe disbelief. Teague said, “you don’t have to raise your hand Gerald”.

Gerald said, “so you’re saying someone stole the cook lady’s fairy?”

“I think it was more of a proper kidnapping of sorts”, Teague said, “and don’t call Pecht a fairy; he’s a Pixie, and they don’t get along with fairies”. Not that Teague was an expert or even novice in the way of the mythical realm: he had just learned that tidbit this morning when he began looking into the incident for Mr. Penrose.

Gerald cocked his head slightly to the side, almost like a dog, and spoke, “you mean like how the Chinese don’t get on with the Japanese?”

Fitz put on a slight look of surprise on his face: the question that Gerald asked was actually almost insightful, and that was generally not something that the bruiser could be accused of.

Teague also was a bit surprised at how spot on Gerald’s question was, and said “I think it is pretty much like that Gerald. Just don’t go calling Pecht a fairy and it should be ok.” Teague continued, “that’s his name by the way, and he is the reason why Rowena’s food is so bleddy splan.”

Gerald grinned a bit at Teague’s slight vulgarity, and Fitz thought to himself that Mr. Penrose don’t care for that type of language.

“Ms. Rowena seems to think that the Italians abducted Pecht and are using him to their advantage at that new eatery on the South side,” Teague told his two coworkers.

Fitz offered, “it’s called Ottimo Cibo. I think it means something like great food”

“In any case,” Teague said, “I want to go check the place out and thought it might do to have you two along for backup”. Fitz nodded slightly in agreement and Gerald spoke out, “can we get a bit of dinner while you check the place out? I’m feeling a bit peckish”.

Gerald could see the other two men didn’t seem to like the idea so he said “What!, if we’re eating there, you can be checking the place out all like an emmet”.

Teague thought for a moment and Gerald’s statement almost made sense. Back in the old country an Emmet was basically a clueless tourist; and maybe that would work for him in this instance.

“Fine Gerald,” Teague agreed, “we’ll get us a bit of dinner while I check it out.”

Fitz spoke up, “I wondered why you want us two big fellas with you Teague, an it occurred to me that I hear Vittorio likes that joint”

Gerald looked a bit startled at the mention of that name and he offered, “I don’t want no part of that Italian devil; he fancies the razor, and I don’t feel the need for a close shave just now”.

Teague adjusted his right boot slightly and felt the weight of the blade in the boot. His trench knife had been acquired by Teague from a Yank in the Great War. It was 30 centimeters long, a little more than half of that was a near razor sharp, double edged blade. The handle had brass knuckles as an integral part of it, with spikes on the knuckles themselves. Teague didn’t like to think of the things he had done with the dreadful weapon during the Great War. In fact, Teague much preferred to use his fists if things got rough; and would only use a weapon on someone if they pulled one on him.

“Don’t worry about Vittorio,” Teague told his two coworkers. “I’ll deal with him if needs be.” Teague continued “Mr. Penrose doesn’t want us doing anything unnecessary with the Italians right now, so you two are just along, for if something goes wrong”.

“That’s fine by me”, Gerald told his 2 companions. “Let’s go find us a fairy”

Teague’s face darkened a bit and he corrected the bruiser; “Pixie. Gerald; his name if Pecht and he is a Pixie”

Gerald looked at Fitz, then at Teague and said, “whatever you say Teague. Let’s go find us a Pixie. And get a bite to eat while we’re at it!”.