Photo by the author, Deeann D. Mathews
“Listen, the last time somebody threatened anything the Ludlow Bubbly was doing, they got laughed in to an insane asylum and their company bankrupted, snatched up, and about to be sold back to a rescuer at a profit – I mean, who does this?”
Ten-year-old Glendella Ludlow, whose grandfather Astor had been through all of the above, was talking to ten-year-old Andrew and eleven-year-old Eleanor Ludlow, her cousins but also adopted siblings, all adopted by retired army captain R.E. Ludlow, founder of the Ludlow Bubbly with Sgt. Vincent Trent next door.
“I don't know,” Andrew said, “but they oughta get down on their knees in the stockade and thank God they are in the Pacific Ocean and not the Atlantic, because folks could have died today for real!”
The Ludlow Bubbly had been doing very well in Hawaii after being introduced there by retired navy captain Musashi Miyamoto, a neighbor of the Ludlows at the Veteran's Lodge, but the first shipment to Japan had run into some trouble.
“Impound the ship?” Capt. Ludlow had been heard bellowing on the phone. “What do you mean they gotta impound the ship!”
Capt. Miyamoto explained the situation – apparently, some organized crime group had changed the registration on a ship because they were stealing it on the sly, but the U.S. Navy had figured it out just as they left Hawaii.”
“But what about our soda?” Capt. Ludlow had bellowed. “When will that be returned?”
“Take it as a compliment, my good captain of land forces, that as the criminals were cleaning out the ship of all contraband liquor that shouldn't have been there, they also drank all of the Ludlow Bubbly, and told friends in Japan that it was the best American product they had sampled this year while at work.”
“At work? You mean stealing ships and cleaning them out of goods and reselling them – that's what those dirty sea scoundrels call work?”
“Yes, sir, that's the fifth – but the last, probably, this year.”
“So, we're going to have organized crime clients who don't want to pay, because the Navy couldn't figure this out faster – I mean I know the Army is slow, but –.”
“There's more water than land, though, Capt. Ludlow. Seven-to-three ratio.”
“I don't care if it's seventy thousand to three – that's my grandchildren's inheritance those criminals have drunk up, and I demand satisfaction!”
“Captain, you probably just want to take the insurance claim.”
“Oh … oh … I completely forgot we can write that off … I was having a whole episode, wasn't I?”
“I get it. Mess with my grandchildren and die.”
“EXACTLY!”
“But also, mess with organized crime in Asia and die, too.”
“I keep forgetting, Capt. Miyamoto, that I am not in fact the entire U.S. Army at times like this.”
“I get it, Capt. Ludlow. My wife says I gotta stop acting like I have an aircraft carrier tied up in Emerald Creek for just such an emergency.”
“Listen: I'm going to get my old helicopter units back together and land them on your aircraft carrier in Emerald Creek – this is the ideal situation of armed forces cooperation!”
Of course, the little Ludlows were only hearing Capt. Ludlow's side of this …
“I'm soooooooooooooooooooooo glad this happened in the Pacific Ocean, because Emerald Creek doesn't run that far,” Glendella said.
“It was about to be World War III out here,” Andrew said and shook his head. “God is way better than people know He is!”
“Yeah, we didn't settle down in San Francisco, California where Grandma is from, but moved out here to Lofton County, Virginia where Papa is from,” Eleanor said. “It was just that close – but God!”