Vinyl Cafe Unplugged by Stuart Mclean

said Morley.
    The first thing Dorothy said to Dave, as she stormed past the airport security guards, was not Hello or It was good of you to meet me at the airport, in the middle of the night —the first words she uttered when they met on the arrivals level at five-ten on that Tuesday morning in August were “After lunch we’re going to meet the deaf wolf.”
    In Due South, the Mountie hero, Constable Benton Fraser, has a deaf, junk-food-eating pet wolf—played by a husky.
    Dorothy was still talking about the wolf ten minutes later, after they had talked their way past the security guards and back into the luggage area to fetch her suitcase.
    “His name is DIEFENBAKER,” said Dorothy.
    They were standing beside the carousel, waiting for her suitcase. GREEN, she had said.
    “That one?” asked Dave, pointing hopefully at a small green suitcase rounding the corner.
    Dorothy shook her head. No.
    “DIEFENBAKER is his TELEVISION name,” said Dorothy. “The crew calls him O.T.”
    “What?” said Dave.
    “O.T.,” said Dorothy. “That’s what the crew calls the wolf. The dog, actually.”
    “What about that one?” said Dave, pointing at the next green bag.
    Dorothy shook her head again.
    “O.T. is short for Overtime,” said Dorothy.
    Then she interrupted herself. “THERE,” she barked. “THAT ONE!” She was pointing at a huge red suitcase coming toward them. It was hanging half off the conveyor.
    “THAT ONE,” she said again, bouncing up and down.
    “I thought you said green,” said Dave.
    “I know my own suitcase,” said Dorothy, punching Dave’s shoulder as the bag rolled by them. “GET IT.”
    Dave grabbed the bag and jerked it off the belt. It landed at his feet with a thud.
    “Careful,” said Dorothy.
    When he tried to pick it up, he swayed unsteadily.
    “Which way?” said Dorothy over her shoulder. She was already walking. Barrelling off in the wrong direction, heading back toward her plane.
    Dave got her turned around and they set off for the car, Dorothy two steps ahead and going maniacally on about the dog, Dave struggling along, his left arm extended from his body like a tightwire artist’s, counterbalancing the heavy bag that was bouncing off his right calf with each step.
    “The production crew gave him the nickname,” said Dorothy.
    They were halfway up a flight of stairs that seemed to stretch forever. Dave was paying more attention to the alarming acceleration of his heart than he was to Dorothy. He could feel the blood surging through his ears. He was wondering if he should stop and rest.
    “O.T.,” said Dorothy, “is short for Overtime. The husky they used for the first two seasons was so dumb it bungled every stunt. So they were always doing extra takes. Which meant lots of overtime for them. Let me take that.”
    She plucked the bag from Dave and swung it effortlessly up the rest of the staircase.
    “Where’s the car?” she asked at the top.

    Registration for the four-day Friends of Due South convention didn’t begin until that afternoon. It was only seven when Dave and Dorothy arrived home.
    Morley said, “I’ll fix tea.”
    Dave said, “I’ll show you your room.”
    Stephanie was sleeping with Sam for the duration of Dorothy’s ten-day visit.
    “WE ARE GOING TO MEET THE DEAF WOLF AT LUNCH,” said Dorothy to Stephanie as she dropped onto her bed.
    “Oh,” said Stephanie, who had given up her bedroom under protest.
    Fifteen minutes later everyone was sitting around the breakfast table.
    “I WANT TO GO SHOPPING FIRST,” said Dorothy, who, unlike Dave, didn’t seem any worse the wear from the night’s flight.
    When Morley set the mug of tea in front of Dorothy, bag in, Dorothy pointed at it in horror.
    “What’s that little bag?” she said. “What’s THAT?”
    “It’s a tea bag,” said Morley.
    “No, no, no, no, no, no, no,” said Dorothy. “Tea doesn’t come in bags. Tea comes in a tea caddy.”
    “A tea caddy,” said Morley. “What’s a tea