A Commodore of Errors (22 page)

When a ship from Edinburgh pulled into port and the sailors could not pay for their uniforms, the ship's agent coerced the captain to give up his bagpipes. Mrs. Tannenbaume's father had no use for a set of bagpipes and was about to
give them back to the agent when he saw the cantor fooling with them. He was grateful to the cantor for teaching his daughter Hebrew so he gave the bagpipes to the cantor. Mrs. Tannenbaume loved the sound of the bagpipes, loved the ethereal way the Jewish folk songs sounded on them. When the Scots or the Irish came down to the shop looking for clothes, the cantor would pull out his pipes and play for them. The sailors laughed at the sight of an old Jew and a pretty young girl singing shanties.

Mrs. Tannenbaume remembered the three long years of preparation for her Bat Mitzvah, three years in her father's tailor shop while her friends played at the seaside where it was cool and breezy. When Mrs. Tannenbaume's big day arrived, her mother refused to attend, and when Mrs. Tannenbaume came home, her mother ignored her beaming daughter and didn't offer so much as a
Mazel Tov
to the family's new Jewess.

Mrs. Tannenbaume teetered on the top step of the ladder. The lock would not open. She tried to pull the key out but it was stuck. Mrs. Tannenbaume climbed down the ladder and went downstairs to get some WD-40. She was on the ladder spraying the lubricant into the lock when she heard Midshipman Jones. “Up here, love,” she called.

When Midshipman Jones came upstairs and saw Mrs. Tannenbaume sitting on the top step, he grabbed the ladder with both hands.

“What are you doing up there with no one holding the ladder? Why didn't you wait for me?”

“I got tired of waiting, love. I'm anxious to get inside of this attic again. You know I think it may have been sixty years since I last opened this lock?”

“I believe it, by the looks of it.”

Mrs. Tannenbaume fiddled with the key.

“Why don't you let me give it a try?” Midshipman Jones said.

When Midshipman Jones inspected the lock, he said, “I better be careful with—oh shoot.” He held the key up. It had broken off in his hand. “The other half of the key is stuck in the lock. Sorry about that, Mrs. Tannenbaume. I can run back to the academy and get some tools to pry it off.”

Mrs. Tannenbaume sat down on a chair and looked up at Midshipman Jones on the ladder. She sighed. Suddenly, she was very tired.

“Oh the heck with it,” she said. “Some other time. I just wanted to look at some old stuff I have up there. We don't have to do it today.”

“What kind of stuff do you keep up there anyway?”

The phone rang before Mrs. Tannenbaume had a chance to answer him. She stood up and asked Midshipman Jones to take the ladder back down to the garage for her. She said that she would call him when she felt like getting up there again.

Mrs. Tannenbaume reached the phone on its fifth ring. Most people didn't wait that long these days. She wondered who could be calling.

“Yello?”

“Hello, Mother?”

“Hello, love!”

“Mother, I'm calling on the SATCOM from the ship, so we can't talk long, it's godawful expensive.”

“You could afford to call your mother if you didn't carry on the way you do.”

“Yes, well, be that as it may, I won't be carrying on anymore. Mother, I got married in Singapore.”

Even though Mrs. Tannenbaume had already heard the news from Flo, it still felt like she was hearing it for the first time.

“Mother? Are you there?”

Mrs. Tannenbaume's throat went dry.

“Mother?”

“Yes, love.”

“Did you hear what I said? I got married.”

“So I've heard.”

“You know? Who told you?”

“The gal from your office called. Flo.”

“Who told her to call?”

“I figured you did. I figured you were ashamed to call me yourself.”

“Ashamed, Mother? I've got nothing to be ashamed about. Sylvia's a nice girl.”

“Her name is really Sylvia? A Thai girl named Sylvia?”

“That's what she likes to be called, Mother. You should be flattered she picked the same name as yours.”

“I'll never call her Sylvia. Sylvia Tannenbaume is my name. She can't have my name.”

They were silent for a few seconds. It was Captain Tannenbaume who spoke up again.

“I thought you would be happy for me, Mother. I know how much you've hated my carrying-on.”

“I wait sixty years for you to find your Carmen and you bring me this? A nineteen-year-old Thai girl?”

“She comes from a fine family.”

“The same fine family she sends money home to? And exactly how does she earn this money, may I ask?”

Another pause.

“Mother, this call is expensive. I just wanted you to know.”

“I have some news as well.”

“Oh? What's that?”

“They want to make you superintendent of the academy.”

“What academy?”

“The Merchant Marine Academy.”

“Kings Point? You must be joking. Who told you this?”

“The Commodore told me himself.”

“The Commodore? You act like you know him.”

“He comes into the dry cleaners. He likes the way we do his shirts.”

Mrs. Tannenbaume sat on the couch and curled her feet under her legs. “Sonny, how can you do this to me?”

“Oh, Mother.”

“Don't Oh Mother me. What am I going to tell the Commodore now? That my sonny boy would love to be the superintendent but that he wants to bring his Thai whore with him.”

“Mother, don't ever call Sylvia that again. She's my wife.”

“What do I tell the Commodore?”

“Tell him anything you like. I don't want to be superintendent anyway. I like being captain.”

Mrs. Tannenbaume uncrossed her legs and got up off the couch. “Are you
meshuggener
? Nobody in their right mind would turn down the job. Think of it. The same school that turned you down now wants you to be the head honcho. Why would you say no?”

“I don't know, Mother, I'll have to think about it. I've been on these ships for a long time. It might be nice to get a shoreside gig, come to think of it.”

“You call it a gig? Superintendent of the United States Merchant Marine Academy? Please, sonny, please say you'll take the job.”

“I'll think about it, Mother. I'll have to talk it over with my wife.”

It sounded funny to hear her sonny boy refer to his “wife.”

“I won't call her Sylvia,” Mrs. Tannenbaume said.

“Okay, Mother, this call has cost enough. My ship gets into New York in mid-October. I'll see you then. We sail from Singapore in a few days. Bye, please.”

Mrs. Tannenbaume fell onto the couch. She had been hoping all along that somehow Flo was wrong. What wishful thinking that was. Mrs. Tannenbaume was sick. Sick at the thought of this turn of events.
What on earth would the Commodore say when he heard the news?
Mrs. Tannenbaume had to tell him. She couldn't just let her sonny boy show up as the next superintendent of the academy with a teenager on his arm.

A HANDSHAKE DEAL

T
he Commodore was practicing his breathing when Mogie burst into his office. The Commodore preferred to meditate standing up in front of the big mirror, and the unexpected sight of Mogie in the mirror made the Commodore choke on his own Infinity breath, upsetting his whole chakra. Mogie ran up to the Commodore and stopped directly behind him, glaring at him in the mirror.

“Where the hell is Mitzi?” Mogie said.

The Commodore felt dizzy. Too dizzy to respond.

“I looked for her in her office and some librarian was sitting at her desk. She told me Mitzi works for you now. Where the hell is she?”

The Commodore's head reeled. “My chakra!”

“Your what?”

“You've upset my chakra!”

Mogie whirled in place and looked at the floor around him.

“Who's Chakra? Your dog?”

Mogie got on all fours and looked under the Commodore's desk. “Here, Chakra. Come here, girl.”

The Commodore saw Mitzi enter the office. They locked eyes in the mirror.

“Am I hearing things?” she said. “I thought I just heard Mogie's voice.”

“Come here, Chakra. Where are you, girl?” Mitzi looked under the Commodore's desk and saw Mogie on his hands and knees. When Mogie crawled out from under the desk, Mitzi stood over him.

“What the hell are you doing down there?”

Mogie looked up at Mitzi. “I'm looking for the Commodore's dog. He says I upset her.”

“The Commodore ain't got a dog. What the hell are you talking about, Moges?”

Mogie stood up and brushed off his pants. “He said I upset his Chakra.”

“His Chak—” Mitzi slapped Mogie in the back of the head. “He's talking about his
chakra,
you dope. You interrupted him while he was meditating.”

“But I found him standing in front of the mirror.” Mogie looked at Mitzi and then at the Commodore in the mirror. “Who the hell meditates standing in front of the mirror?”

Mitzi walked over to the Commodore and caressed his face. “Poor, baby. Why don't you finish your breathing here at your desk? It'll be safer.”

“Maybe I should.” The Commodore glared at Mogie. “But he has to leave.”

Mitzi turned around and grabbed Mogie by the elbow. “Come on. The Commodore has to finish his Infinity breath.”

“What the hell is an Infinity breath?”

“He learned it in yoga,” Mitzi said. “Let's go.”

Mogie looked over his shoulder at the Commodore as Mitzi dragged him out of the room. “Sorry to interrupt your yoga breath, Commodore.”

Mitzi closed the door behind her. When they were alone in the outer office, Mogie broke free of her grasp.

“What the hell are you doing putting words in Jane's mouth? She says she never said anything about the holocaust.”

“Well that's what I heard,” Mitzi said.

“Who the hell told you that?”

“None of your business. Besides, if she didn't say it, she easily could have, the Nazi bitch.”

“Hey, Jane may be a Catholic, but she's no Nazi.”

“Oh yeah? Then why's she got that little fish on the back of her car?”

“What little fish?”

“That little fish symbol on her rear bumper. It's like a modern-day swastika.”

“Who told you that?”

“Don't be so naïve, Mog—wait a sec, hold on, I think I hear the Commodore.”

The Commodore poked his head around his office door. “Mitzi. Let's do the Toe Hang now.”

His Toe Hang. Right
. The Commodore used to practice his Toe Hang on the stage in the auditorium until Mitzi suggested he do it in the privacy of his office.
The loony bastard loved the idea.
Mitzi snickered to herself. She had brought in her aerobic stepper—Mogie wasn't using it and Putzie never did get the hang of it—so that he could stand on it in front of the mirror and hang his toes over the edge and really become one with his imaginary audience. Mitzi sat at his desk and critiqued him. What a cake job that was.

She glanced at Mogie. What if Mogie were to hear her critiquing the Commodore on his Toe Hang? This could be fun . . .

“What the hell is a Toe Hang?”

Mitzi didn't answer Mogie. Instead, she closed the door in his face. Then she went and sat on the edge of the Commodore's desk while he set up the stepper.

“A little bit to the side, Commodore,” she said, louder than usual.

“How's that?”

“A little louder, Commodore,” Mitzi whispered.

“I said how's that?”

“That's it. Right there. No, in a little more. That's it.”

“That feels good right there,” the Commodore said.

“That's it, baby, right there. You've got my attention now.”

“We truly are one, now, are we not, Miss Paultz?”

Mitzi cooed.