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Although it wasn't something he did all too often, Mort quite enjoyed visiting small shops such as this one. The dim lights, the small spaces, the smell of old books, it all made for a particularly pleasant atmosphere as he browsed the shelves of the bookstore. His blue eyes wandered over the spines of the many books, both old and new. Although Mort had been meaning to go look around for a while, he hadn't had the time yet. Between his usual broadcasts leaving him tired enough to nap in the middle of the day and being called in for Marigold parties at night, he’d had enough on his plate as of late. And that was even without mentioning him waiting around for Sin.
But Mort had decided that he couldn’t spend all his time waiting. Though he felt strongly attached to Sin by now, he also knew that giving the older cat time meant that he ought to take some time to himself as well – do things he enjoyed. He hadn't heard from him in weeks now, but perhaps a bit of time alone would do them both good. They were an odd couple, and Mort feared he might be falling for Sin just by way of them being together so much.
But he often did find that he missed him these days.
Picking a book from the shelf on nature, Mort glanced through the index in the front first. The subject he was looking for was… a bit limited, and he put the book on flora and fauna right back. Perhaps it was a byproduct of missing Sin, but Mort had found that he was quite curious about butterflies, namely the one that had landed on him back when he sat with Sin in the grove by the Willow Tree. He remembered what it looked like, but he wanted to know more about it.
Mort put the book back and checked another as he heard footsteps behind him. Glancing up for just a moment, he gave a polite nod and moved aside to allow the stranger to browse the shelves too. Just then Mort's eyes settled on the spine of a dark brown volume bearing the title of Invertebrates of the Midwest. He reached for it immediately, but found that the stranger did as well, their hands reaching for it at the exact same time.
“Oh, sorry, go ahead,” they both said in almost perfect unison. The stranger before Mort was considerably taller than him, at least a half head, covered in beige fur with brown on his ears and around his muzzle and snout. He was also dressed far more fashionably than Mort who wore his usual black, blue and white. The stranger wore a pair of clean, white pants along with a golden-brown vest and a dark blue jacket. He stood out in the dim little shop, his clothes were practically glowing in the dark.
“No, really, I insist,” Mort quickly said, feeling slightly embarrassed for no reason. He gave a somewhat nervous chuckle. “I’m sure it’s not the only book on insects here.”
T he stranger cast a blue-eyed glance up and down the bookshelf before them. “Oh, I’m sure. Tell you what, good sir, let’s see what we can find. I was hoping to find a book on butterflies.”
“Really?” Mort asked in genuine surprise. “Me too, actually. Any particular type, sir?”
The stranger gave a hearty chuckle. “What a coincidence, huh? Well, I was rather hoping to read about the Monarch. Maybe moths as well – I always did find moths very interesting. How about you, Mr.…?”
“Bl- Mort Blakely.” Mort felt his face redden in embarrassment. He almost introduced himself as Blaine. He cleared his throat and held out his hand towards the stranger. “A pleasure meeting you. I was just looking to identify a certain kind of butterfly, really.”
“I’m Sedgewick Sable – pleasure’s all mine.” Sedgewick Sable… why did that sound so familiar? Mort couldn’t place it, but as they shook hands, he just smiled at the taller man. “Well, why don’t I help you out, Mr. Blakely? I’m sure we can find a book more, or two, on butterflies…”
H owever, glancing around, it seemed like the only books dedicated to any single groups of insects were primarily about beetles, which Mr. Sable seemed perfectly pleased with. Mort wasn’t displeased by finding an older encyclopedia on insects. Although it was primarily on old-world insects, it at least included a section on butterflies, which was what Mort had come for.
“Say, are you an insect collector by any chance?” an interested Mr. Sable asked Mort as they moved to the counter to pay for their books. Mort had come away with a nice small collection of books – three to be exact. One was the encyclopedia on old-world insects, another was one on the general flora and fauna around and near the Mississippi, and lastly an old, pocket-sized book that seemed to entirely contain hand-written field notes and drawings.
“Me? Oh, no, no. I’ve just taken an interest in butterflies recently, Mr. Sable,” Mort said with a smile, before paying for his books and stepping aside to allow the older cat to do the same. He didn’t seem too much older than Mort, though he did carry himself with a grace that suggested he might be older than he looked.
The brown and beige cat turned back to Mort once he’d received his change. “Say, would you like to get lunch together? It isn’t often I run into a fellow bug enthusiast.”
“Really? Oh, I suppose we could,” Mort replied sounding slightly uncertain, though he did smile up at Mr. Sable. He gave a light chuckle. “It’s an acquired taste for most, but I find them quite interesting. I was going to go out and get lunch anyway, Mr. Sable. Anywhere in town that tickles your fancy?”
Mr . Sable seemed to consider the question for a moment as the two of them left the shop and stepped out onto the bright, sun-lit street. Late April saw far sunnier weather than M arch, which had been quite rainy and cold at times. The sun still wasn't quite as hot as Mort knew it could get in summer, and the morning breeze still carried a coolness to it that cut through Mort's thinner jackets.
“Oh, quite a few places, actually. There are many fine eateries in town I enjoy. You ever been to the Mayfair Room?” the older cat asked with a smile. Once again, Mort couldn’t shake the feeling that they'd met before, but he couldn’t place it… It wouldn't have been at Marigold, surely Mort would've remembered that. The taller cat was dressed smartly, so perhaps he was the type to visit that place, although he did seem nicer than most of the characters who turned up there. Mort had yet to come across anyone who seemed as nice – and not just patrons, employees as well. Sin was the only-
“The Mayfair Room? Oh, no, it’s not quite…” Mort wasn't sure how to say that it wasn’t the kind of place he’d enjoy frequenting. Though his experience at the Maribel Hotel’s restaurant had been… mostly pleasant, as far as the food was concerned, Mort preferred smaller, less stuffy places.
“Ah, I see…” Mr. Sable said with an understanding nod, though Mort wasn't quite sure he understood the right way. But if he simply thought it was out of Mort's price range, perhaps he wouldn't have to explain himself. It was well within Mort's budget to visit a place like that, he just didn’t want to.
“I like little cafés, though. There’s this one called Little Daisy a few streets over,” Mort told him with a smile, shifting the books to his right hand and gesturing over his shoulder with his left. “Not sure if it’s your kind of place, Mr. Sable, but I can assure you that it’s a nice one.”
“Oh, you’re a regular at the Little Daisy?” The taller cat seemed considerably more interested, regarding Mort with a surprising amount of curiosity. “I enjoy coming there, it’s a nice little place… even if it’s not considered anything special to most. It certainly holds a special place in my heart.”
Mort wasn't quite sure what to make of someone like Mr. Sable liking the Little Daisy – he quite frankly didn’t strike Mort as the type to go to such a place. Given how he dressed and carried himself, he certainly seemed like he’d be more at home in a restaurant like the Mayfair Room.
“Well that’s wonderful, we could head on over, if you’d like, sir,” Mort suggested politely. It shouldn’t be too much of a walk for them, and given how nice the weather was…
“Oh, splendid,” he replied almost immediately with a bright smile, his blue eyes practically twinkling. “Come along now, Mr. Blakely, it’s not far.”
Mort offered Mr. Sable a nod and a smile, but to his surprise, the taller cat didn’t walk far along the sidewalk, but instead guided Mort to a large, shiny cat. It was pristine and clean, and the car Mort occasionally rented from Marigold had nothing on it. Mort didn’t know what model it was, but he could easily imagine Mr. Sweet driving up to the hotel in such an expensive-looking vehicle.
“Hmmm? Oh, come on, let’s not just stand around,” Mr. Sable chuckled as he made his way around to the car’s left side. But to Mort's surprise, he didn’t get into the driver’s seat, but instead the passenger seat in the back. It was then that Mort noticed the chauffeur in the front – the sunlight reflecting off the windshield had made it hard to spot him at a glance.
Only hesitating for a moment longer, Mort moved to the backseat and got in on the right side. He supposed he really shouldn’t be surprised by the fact that a man like Mr. Sable not only owned such a fancy car, but also had a driver. Mort knew that he probably had funds for such extravagance as well, though he'd never once thought a personal driver was something worthwhile. Despite everything, Mort did make plenty of money between doing radio shows and working for Marigold. More than enough to live high on the hog, as they said, but he'd never had the desire to.
The car’s interior had leather seats that were quite comfortable and as Mr. Sable told the driver where to go, Mort couldn’t help but get a sense of familiarity. The only times he had someone driving him around was usually when he was being taken in for Marigold parties, but this instance of being driven had Mort feeling a lot safer. Mr. Sable didn’t strike him as someone to be scared of, unlike most of his fellow Marigold employees.
“It’s a nice car you got here, sir,” Mort said, trying to initiate a bit of polite smalltalk as he smiled across at the taller cat.
“Ah, don’t tell me you’re a fellow car enthusiast as well,” he chuckled in response. They’d placed their books on the seat between them and as they rolled along the road, Mort couldn’t help but wonder just how well-off Mr. Sable was. Again, the feeling that they'd met before was one Mort couldn’t shake…
“Oh, not quite, but I can appreciate ‘em enough,” Mort replied with a small shrug. “I don’t even own one myself.”
“I see. Lack of funds or just no need for one?”
“No, no, I do have the funds, but I just… Well, other priorities, I suppose.” Mort gave a light chuckle, feeling slightly nervous. He usually never talked about himself or his money this way with others, much less strangers he'd just met. But Mr. Sable just had one of those honest faces, much like the way he carried himself just exuded friendliness. It was so different from the company Mort normally found within Marigold…
“That’s quite understandable.” Mr. Sable nodded slowly, before he gave a soft chuckle. “I myself do have a thing for collecting – cars being one of my indulgences.”
“Oh really? What else? You collect insects too, right?” Mort wondered aloud, eyes momentarily drifting down to the books between them. It wasn't such a wild assumption, Mort thought, given that it clearly was one of Mr. Sable’s interests. It had also been the first thing he’d asked Mort in the bookstore.
“Ah, indeed – got me a few specimens, but not my biggest collection. I also collect minerals and other things like that.” And once again Mort couldn’t help but notice how those blue eyes lit up with wonder and excitement as he spoke of his interests. “I’ve got assorted beetles, and some cicadas too. It’s always exciting when those appear, even if it’s not too often.”
“Exciting and noisy,” Mort added playfully. He'd most certainly experienced the wall of sound that a swarm of cicadas could create. They were strange insects to be certain. “Been quite a few years since I experienced ‘em for myself. They sure do make a racket when they come out.”
Mr. Sable’s ears perked up as he looked curiously at Mort. He looked back at him with a similarly curious, albeit slightly cautious look. “You from out of town, Mr. Blakely?”
“Uh… yeah.” Mort hadn't realized he'd let his Tennessee accent come out for a moment. He supposed he'd been thinking of experiencing cicadas emerging back on the farm… “Sorry, it just comes out of me sometimes – the accent, I mean.”
“No need to apologize,” the other cat chuckled, patting Mort's shoulder as the car came to a halt. “I grew up quite a ways away from St. Louis myself. I’m a Bostonian born and raised.”
“A Bostonian? I was born over in some one-horse town in Tennessee,” Mort explained with a smile. Maybe Mort simply didn’t know what a Boston accent sounded like, but he didn’t seem to pick up any kind of distinct accent when Mr. Sable spoke. He grabbed their books, handing Mort his, before they exited the car together.
“Ah, Tennessee, I haven't been there in years. I went up into the mountainous regions,” he told Mort as they crossed the short distance from the car to the small, familiar café. “It’s quite a lovely state.”
As per usual, the café wasn't very packed at all. In fact, it was almost completely empty, save for three patrons seated by the window tables; two sat together and one by themselves. Mr. Sable looked so out of place too, at least to Mort. The small café didn’t look at all like a place that should host a man as smartly dressed – or as wealthy – as him.
“Oh, good day, Mr. Sable!” the girl working the counter called out when she spotted the two of them. She was dressed in summer colors already, a bright yellow dress and she seemed to be in a good mood. The radio played, but Mort wasn't too worried about that – it was just music for the moment. Even if it had been the tinny sound of his own voice coming out of it, he would have acted like it was nothing – or at least he would've tried.
“Ah, Ms. Pepper, hello,” Mr. Sable greeted her in turn. So they clearly knew each other, which Mort found curious. Mr. Sable would’ve needed to be a regular for a greeting like that, wouldn't he? Mort couldn’t recall ever seeing him here, but then again, he still got the feeling that they'd met before, so maybe he had seen him without realizing…
“Always a pleasure, sir. What will you and your friend be having- oh, I know you!” she suddenly exclaimed, catching Mort off-guard.
He stared at her for a moment. He blinked. “… you do?”
“Yeah, you come here often.” Mort relaxed immediately, offering the younger woman a smile. He needed to stop being on high alert like that, he'd end up looking awfully suspicious…
“Oh, right… Yeah, I do,” he said, noticing that Mr. Sable looked at him with quite a curious glance.
“Just something to drink to start with, Ms. Pepper. Coffee for me…” Mr. Sable turned to Mort, awaiting his answer. He just ended up ordering some tea for himself. Once they made it to one of the booths, Mr. Sable chuckled. “Not much of a coffee drinker, eh?”
“Can’t say I am,” Mort said with a smile. “It makes me all jittery.”
The taller cat gave a light chuckle again. “Oh, quite understandable. Sometimes, I wonder if I’d get any work done without it.”
“What is it you do exactly?” Mort asked before he could stop himself. He was just too curious. “I mean, if you don’t mind me asking, of course…”
“Don’t mind one bit, Mr. Blakely. I'm in charge of my own company – so that means lots and lots of paperwork,” he explained with a smile. He pulled one of his own books over and flipped it open. “But enough about work… What say you we see if the butterfly you're looking for is in one of these books? Remind me, was it a particular kind?”
“It was, but I don’t know the name of it,” Mort told him, surprised that Mr. Sable was so quick to move on. A Mr. Sable… who owned his own company… No, Mort still couldn’t place it. He mentally decided to let it go for now, however. Mort pulled a book of his own over and opened it. The pages looked quite aged and they carried that distinct smell of old paper. “But I'm sure I would recognize it on sight…”
The book Mort had bought had all manner of insects described in it, though he wasn't surprised to see species he'd never encountered before. After all, it mainly seemed to be centered on European species. Some species were recognizable to him, such as ladybugs, grasshoppers, dragonflies…
Finally he flipped onto the first page that detailed butterflies. The first page had a diagram of the life-stages of them, going from eggs to larva instars to the pupa and finally the adult butterfly.
“Any luck, Mr. Blakely? I don’t suppose it might be one of these?” Mr. Sable placed the book flat against the table, the pages showing an assortment of colored illustrations of butterflies. Mr. Sable’s book certainly did have a higher chance of having what Mort was looking for, given that it was the one specifically about the insects of the Midwest. Mort's eyes wandered over the pages. While some of them looked similar, none of them was an exact match, until Mort had flipped a couple of pages.
“Oh, that’s the one!” he said excitedly pointing to it on the page. Both he and Mr. Sable leaned closer for a look, before they accidentally bonked their heads together, both of them awkwardly apologizing. He let Mort lean in to read. “Eastern Tiger Swallowtail…”
“Ah…!” Mr. Sable’s eyes started twinkling once again with an almost-childlike wonder. “I don’t believe I've ever seen one of those in person, but some other swallowtails do visit my garden during summer. I’ll have to look out for the Eastern Tiger this year.”
“Yeah, me too. I do have a- someone I visit outside town – I saw one of these last fall near their house,” Mort explained, thinking back on it. He'd nearly fallen asleep against the willow tree in the clearing, when the butterfly had landed on him in the wee hours of the morning.
“Ah, well, hopefully you’ll get to see it again this summer. Have you ever raised larvae into butterflies? I used to do that quite a bit when I was a child,” Mr. Sable continued in that same eager voice of his. The more he spoke, the faster his words came out as well.
Mort clearly wasn't nearly as interested in bugs as Mr. Sable, but the excitement in his voice, that glimmer in his eye, they were both so contagious. Mort couldn’t help but brightly smile at him. “I can’t say I have, but that sounds interesting. How do you do that exactly? Just keep ‘em in a jar and wait?”
The older cat let out a chuckle just as their drinks were delivered by the brown-furred waitress. She looked down at the books on the table curiously. Then suddenly, she said, “I was going to ask what you’d like to eat, but I don’t suppose you’ve got much appetite after looking at bugs.”
Mort stared at her, ears perked up. She had to be quite familiar with Mr. Sable to be speaking like that. Either that or she was just a bit more… blunt than Mort realized. Mr. Sable didn’t seem to mind as he smiled at her. “Oh, don’t worry, Ms. Pepper. We still have plenty of appetite, isn’t that right, Mr. Blakely?”
Mort nodded politely, before the two of them eventually did order food. He knew lunch at the Little Daisy wasn’t anywhere close to the Mayfair Room, and likely wasn’t anything at all like what Mr. Sable was used to, but even so, Mort was just glad to have some company these days. Waiting around for Sin had admittedly left him feeling quite lonely at times, and the only company he could regularly count on was unfortunately Marigold employees and guests during their parties. Most of them didn’t strike him as someone he wanted to talk to beyond polite conversation, but if he’d managed to run into Mr. Sable there, perhaps things would’ve been considerably more bearable.
Although lunch in itself was rather uneventful, just featuring more polite smalltalk, Mort did get the feeling that this might be a one-off thing. Mr. Sable didn’t seem like the type to mingle too much with… well, people who weren't as high class as him. Mort didn’t want to assume, but he knew how those big company owners and socialites were; he'd seen so many of them at Marigold and overheard them talking about ‘commoners’ like Mort. And so when lunch came to an end, Mort was at least glad he'd had the pleasure of running into someone with such interesting… well, interests. Mr. Sable seemed so friendly as well, it had truly been a pleasure for Mort to meet him.
“Oh, no, please, you don’t have to,” Mort hurriedly said when Mr. Sable offered to pay for him. He reached for his wallet, but Mr. Sable was faster – he even let Ms. Pepper have a a nice tip, Mort noticed. When they left the café and stepped out onto the street, Mort cleared his throat awkwardly. “Really, Mr. Sable, you needn't have…”
“Oh, consider it compensation for running off with this,” Mr. Sable said with a little wink as he held up the book they'd both reached for at the store. “And besides, your company for lunch was quite pleasant. But for now, I’d best get back home. I hope you have a wonderful day, Mr. Blakely.”
“And you as well, Mr. Sable,” Mort said as they shook hands. There it was, no “I hope to see you again sometime” or even a simple “See you”. Mort guessed it was just that – a chance encounter with a particularly friendly fella. As he headed on home with his three books, Mort halfway hoped he might run into Mr. Sedgewick Sable at a Marigold party some day.