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Chapter

6

One Cup

o' Whiskey?

          Spring wasn't here yet, but me nose

knew the air changed overnight. Less snow appeared on the ground, just some

slush that ruined me footpaws if I stepped in it. Good thing though was that I

no longer needed me heavy coat, so I left it for some poor immigrant to have by

the docks. When winter came, I'd scavenge a more...warm one than before.

          Meanwhile, it was just one day from

St. Patrick's Day, the day of drinking from dusk till dawn. Now that was me kind of holiday!

          "Come on, Jamie, when are ya coming

outside?" I shouted from below. "Are ya up there?" I started pacing the steps

of me human friend's building until I heard something come from the windows.

          "Peter?" it was his mother. She

whispered to me, "Will you please be quiet? I nearly have Annabelle sleeping!"

From the look on her face, she seemed flushed.

          I folded me ears and lowered me

headfur. "Sorry!" I whispered back with me curled tail. "Where's Jamie, Mrs.

Lawton? Is he alright?"

          "It's Friday, isn't it? Why he's at

school, Peter," she whispered to me. "I believe you'll have to wait for another

hour until he's free." She was about to head inside until she paused. "Why do

you need to see him anyways?"

          "I just wanna see if he'd like to go

play?"

          "Oh, alright," she said with a

motherly smile. Her's reminded me of me mama's in me dreams, but I dismissed it

away. "You two be careful then, and tell James that he has to be home by dark

please?"

          I groaned but kept meself from

frowning. "Yes, Mrs. Lawton!" I replied with me voice low. "Ya take care now,

ma'am." I waved me paw to her and she waved her hand back, then closed the

window whilst I turned to the school.

          By the time me footpaws got to the school,

me eyes saw James walking out with his book bag and waving good-bye to some

cubs.

          He saw me. "Hello Peter!" James came

running down the steps in a scurry, grasping me outstretched paw and shaking

it. It took me a moment to realize I've been shaking it for a minute. When I

let go, me eyes saw the human raising his eyebrows "Boy, you're really excited

aren't you?"

          A smile formed on me muzzle. "Says a

human boy who's never been to a St. Patrick's festival!" I said, attempting to

hide me giddy tail. Before I turned with him, I remembered. "So where's Lance

again?"

          At that moment, James' eyes widened

like he seen a ghost. "He got detention by Ms. Lesser for getting in a fight

with Gavin."

          I stared at James and then glanced at one

of the school's windows. A smile formed across me muzzle. "That's me boy there!"

I laughed, walking beside the human. "So tell me what exactly Lancie did that I

could never do?"

          While James explained everything, we

walked for an hour in the warm air and the cool breeze, passing by gents and

ladies in both fine attire and dirty clothes, laughing the day or quietly

walking by. I didn't know why they went drinking; today was the greatest day of

the year! People should've been out in the streets partying all day long.

          "So you're saying Lance stood up for

me when Gavin was talkin' trash behind me tail?" I asked in a laugh. James

looked to me deadpan. "And he fought the coyote for me? I paused me voice for a moment, and perked me ears with a grin.

"All that for lil' old me, huh? I'm so proud of that lad, yes I am!" Laughter

bubble outta me throat and wagged me tail happily.

We turned a street, and James threw me a

quizzical look. "But you don't go to school, so why are you so proud?" he

asked.

"Because James, that 'yote Gavin's been

spreading rumors of me having fleas for the past month," I declared, "and we

alls know that me fur's so clean ya could clean a sewer with it!"

James shrugged. "Well I'm not a wolf, so I

wouldn't know."

"Good point," I smiled. "But if Gavin thinks

he can mess with me friends and stroll away scot-free like a schoolgirl, I gots

some news for that wolfish wanna-be." I pointed me finger in the air. "By God's

grace, I shall avenge him..." I heard music in the air, and I turned a street

with beaming eyes, "...when I have me first drink of Old Man Holler's whiskey!" I

grabbed James' hand and pulled. "Come on!"

          "Whoa! Wait! Peter!"

          Here we were; the St. Patrick's Day

celebrations. Booze reeked in the air, laughter echoed around the streets while

rich gents strode by in their carriages with disgust, and the smell of trash

and Five Points nearby hung like a Christmas tree ornament. There were a dozen

things to do, from eating Irish food, listening to Irish music, and even drinking

Irish whiskey.

          I even spotted two familiars among the

crowds, singing to an Irish song.

"I bare orders from the captain get you ready quick and soon

For the pikes must be together by the rising of the moon,

By the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon

For the pikes must be together by the rising of the moon!"

The familiar muzzle turned to

me with a smile.

"Peter Gray! Gutentag!"

          I smiled while shaking the mouse's

paw. "Glad to see ya again, Hansel!" I laughed, then nodded to his companion.

"You too, Edward. I hope you're al enjoying yourselves?" Edward replied by

smiling and chinking his glass with Hansel's. In their other paws, they held

street brooms while laughing outside a bar. From how everyone else was having a

goodtime, it looked like every gent

          "Isn't it illegal to drink on the job,

guys?" I asked with raised eyebrows.

          They simply curled their tails and

smiled. "Not when you've been out like we have!" Hansel laughed before taking a

sip of his beer. The mouse's ears then turned down to James. "And who might

this human lad be?"

          I turned to the human lad beside me. "This

is me friend, James," I greeted for him. "James, these are me German friends

named Edward," the fox nodded his head, "and this mouse here is Hansel."

          James stared at them for a moment, but

then blinked and spoke. "Glad to meet you both, sirs," the boy smiled. "Happy

St. Patrick's Day."

          All of a sudden, a crashing noise

nearby startled us and me eyes glanced to see a raccoon howling in pain and

laughter from a broken chair. "Same to you, kid," Hansel choked out laughter

from it. "Anyways, what are ya doing here, Peter? You trying to get drunk?"

I shook me muzzle in a grin. "Have you seen

Old Man Holler?"

          Edward shrugged, then pointed down the

road with perked ears. "What Edward here is saying is that Holler went that way

ranting like a madman," he laughed with a shake of his small muzzle. "Now you best

get going before he knocks himself out."

          I laughed. "Will do!"

          They went back to singing, and I

couldn't help but hum as me tail wagged to its beat. And come tell me Sean

O'Farrell where the gath'rin is to be. At the..."

          Me and James went once again on our

journey for the geezer's whiskey, occasionally passing by peddlers trying to

sell their own whiskey, green clothes, and even green dye for fur. When James

asked why, I explained that according to legends of New York City, Old Man

Holler was a prodigy in moonshining, making whiskey so powerful that it made a

blind man see for a day and turn any rich and proper gent in New York into a

madman.

          "And you want to have a taste of that

guy's whiskey?" James asked. From the way his human face formed, me thoughts

believed he was confused. "Isn't it a bad idea, Peter?"

          I shrugged. "Hey, first time for

everything, Jamie," I laughed. "And what better time for a cup o' whiskey than

St. Patrick's Day?"

          At last, me eyes spotted the geezer as

he carried that jug of his on the other side of the street. Grabbing James'

hand, we ran across the cobblestones and narrowly missed a cabbie and his

horse.

          "Mr. Holler!" I shouted, and the old

wolf turned to me.

          Old Man Holler was an aging wolf

nearly in his sixties, a relic with auburn eyes and matted fur with a torn worn

brown trousers and a dirty white shirt. His muddy and disheveled tail wagged

along with his toothless grin. The old geezer didn't even notice the other

fursons laughing at his debauchery.

          "'ello there boy!" he giggled while

stumbling on his filthy footpaws. "Me brains is more flooded than the Hudson,

yes its is!" He howled with laughter before falling over and laughing like a

madman. "Ouchie me tail!" He giggled while holding that jug of his.

          I turned to see James covering his

nose and eyes. "He smells awful!" the lad muffled. "He smells worse than you do

after digging through a garbage can!"

          I shook me muzzle and approached the

old wolf. "Well, it looks like you're having a fine day, Old Man Holler?" I

asked with a smile and wagging tail.

          I held his jug up. "Ya bet yer

hindquarters I'm having a good time!" He giggled. Behind him, another street

urchin, a raccoon no older than me, ruffled into the guy's pockets and took a

dolar bill; Holler didn't even notice yet. "Ya young lads care for me whiskey?

It's the only thing keeping me head awake all day!" The old wolf grinned and

casted out a breath so foul I felt it from an arm's length away.

          I coughed a moment. "Us? Try your

whiskey?" I gasped pretended. Me eyes turned right and left for any policemen

nearby. I grinned when none were in me sights. "Sure!" I attempted to grab the

whiskey, but Holler suddenly pulled the jug back.

          "Uh uh uh," he smiled which clutching

the jug close to his chest. "I'm afraid I don't give it away for free, boy."

His eyes looked down to me pockets. "How's about you pay for the fact yous

didn't stop that raccoon taking me money?"" I widened me eyes; so the geezer

wasn't dumb after all.

          "Come on," I pleaded deeply. "Can

you...can you at least gimme one cup o' your whiskey? At least one?" I closed me

paws together and shook them with insistence. "Please, kind sir?"

          The old wolf shook his muzzle. "No

siree," He caressed the jug. "Me paws aren't letting go of this angelic relic

unless yous can pay me. Maybe one sip for fifty cents?" As I dug into me pocket,

he grabbed me wrist. "How abouts that fancy pocket watch in yer pocket?" He

slightly giggled, and I pulled me wrist away.

          "Sorry I don't give away me precious

family heirlooms, Holler!" I growled with a downcast ear. "Fine!" I reached

into me pockets and pulled two quarters out. "Here, now can you gimme a sip of

that whiskey, Holler?"

          James nudged me shoulder. "Forget

about it Peter," he spoke up. I forgot about him being there and didn't notice

the lad crossing his arms. "Don't you think you'll regret taking a sip of

whiskey that strong?" I glanced at

James then to the jug in the wolf's paw.

          Old Man's laughter filled the street,

yet everyone kept going on like he were a ghost. "Yer pinky friend's got a

point there kid," the wolf grinned like a loon. Typical of him to use slurs

like that. "Me whiskey is so powerful that it turned a proper man like

Rockefeller into a lunatic!" Holler chuckled in coughs, but then placed a

finger to his chin. "Or was it the whiskey that turned me crazy like me?"

          I paused for a moment and thought it

over. Ever since I saw a bottle of alcohol in the streets and felt a touch of

it on me tongue, me taste buds have been overly attracted to the taste. And now

with the 'pot-of-gold' in me sights, how could I throw this away like trash?

          "I'll have one sip, please." I asked.

Holler handed me the jug and struggled to keep it in both me paws. Breathing

heavily, I tilted the jug to me lips.

          "Peter, I have a bad feeling about

this," James wavered. "Are you sure that you need to do this to prove how-"

And down the liquid candy went, and

everything went in a blur. I watched in the corner of me eyes as everything

slowed like an aging record player. A few cabbies drove by with gents and poor,

pedestrians waltzed by either celebrating or on their merry way. Some sang that

merry tune 'The Rising of the Moon' while drinking, or humming to another tune

of St. Patrick's spirit.

In the mere seconds that the whiskey went

down me throat, I swears me eyes spotted the jug in me paws change colors, the

sky turn night, and even the species of every man and woman change like a

personality. I thought I even smelled black smoke in the distance.

But by the time I felt the whiskey's

sweetness, I blacked out.

          "Peter, ya dumb boy. Wake up!"

          Me eyes jutted open and I felt like

the backside of a donkey's arse. "Ugh," I groaned. Me throat felt raspy and it

took me a moment to realize where I was.

          I was sitting on a chair, me muzzle

and headfur wet as a rain shower, and a tall and familiar figure standing in

front of me with several others. "Peter, how dumb are ya?" the older on spoke.

"Peter? Peter, can ya hear me?"

          I coughed a few times while rubbing me

eyes. I opened them to see a cross Joseph and an equally cross Lance in the

background of the bakery.

          "Peter Gray, how dumb are you?" Joseph

asked, his voice making me head split in two. Still dazed like a lovestruck

loon, I shrugged.

"I dunno," I groaned. Me tongue felt dry as a

summer day, it did. I placed a paw to me forehead. "Oh God, do I feel awful..." I

attempted to stand up, but the noise of the floorboards sounded like a

stampede.

          I flinched with me covered ears as

Joseph sighed. "Consider yourself lucky that James brought ya here yesterday,

boy," Joseph spoke (loudly). "What were ya thinking about drinking? Don't ya

have any standards, boy?"

"I don't have standards Joseph; I rent 'em,"

I slurred at me joke, but grunted when me tail fell on the floor. "Yelp!" I

cringed to the pain, then realized something particular from earlier. "Wait a

minute...Did ya say James brought me here yesterday?"

Oh God, what did happen?

          Lance chuckled. "Yep," he said with a

wagging tail, "and James told me you were more drunk than a sailor on Monday."

He giggled. "Man, if the Presser Lesser didn't have me, I would've gone to see

ya make a fool out of yourself." He laughed, and I felt like burying me head in

the ground.

          "Will ya stop that, Lancie?" I pleaded

in a moan. "It hurts like 'ell..." I grabbed meself a nearby newspaper and wiped

me forehead clean of sweat. I caught the words 'Windsor' and 'fire' in the

paper, but me brain was too melted to make out what the article was about.

          The door opened in its bell ring, and

I yelped as a customer slammed the door shut after leaving. "Will everyone stop making noise, for God's

sake?!" I begged. Me ears were hurting more than a woman's slap across the

muzzle.

          "Hmmm...something doesn't sound right,"

Joseph make a gaze to me. I knew that look; oh God no! "Lance, can you close

that door properly?"

          I tried to pounce for the raccoon, but

he got to the door and slammed it shut. Loudly. "Ah!" I cringed and felt me

eyes water. "Lancie, just wait until I get me claws on ya." He opened and

closed it again, and again, and again.

          "Promise to never drink, Peter Gray?"

Joseph asked.

          "Okay, okay, okay! Stop it!" I groaned,

scratching the back of me aching head. "No more drinking, Joseph. No more

drinking, no more drinking!"

          The aging wolf stared at me with an expressionless look, and then shrugged. "Okay, then."

For giggles, Lance slammed the door shut.

Again.