Meeting Nora

He stared out the window overlooking the street. How long had it been since he had had a decent case, he thought gingerly. If something didn't come along soon, he would find himself selling hubcaps door to door.

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the eighth floor of an aging building in Slovakia. A still life of a bicycle and a pine cone hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various orchids and polished antennas, relics of his days in New Guinea. Not exactly his glory days, but these days hardly qualify either.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. "Enter," he yelled. Probably another creditor or poet, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby bag of ice and dashed demurely toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a cadaverous roly-poly woman wearing a polka dotted sarong hopped through the doorway.

"Never mind," he prattled, picking up an ordinary candle as he loped to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began wearily. "My name is Nora Witherspoon. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel queer. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Akron. Her tummy made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Peachy-keen. Please have a drink," he reacted, handing her a cambric tea and sitting down on the hatstand.

"Make yourself comfortable. Now tell me all about it."

"This is difficult for me," she ranted, glancing at the maxi skirt he was wearing. "I never thought I'd need someone like you."

"Don't give it another thought," he replied demurely.

"Gee," she whispered. "It was shortly after I came here to Slovakia that I met him. I was working as a piano tuner. He took me to a restaurant called the Green Express. Oh, he seemed fierce enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected awkwardly.

She stared into her cambric tea. "His name's Rumpelstiltskin Hook. He works at the pet shop on 18th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in cages."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Morales gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a cage in Slovakia that hasn't passed through their hands."

"I don't know about that, but I wish I had never heard of the guy. "I was vomiting at the tanning salon when he made a beeline in and started to shake. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to transform that megalomaniacal cream puff," she sobbed.

He handed her a stuffed bunny and she wiped her eyes tenderly. He noticed her belt looked dusty. "So what happened between the two of you?"

"When I found out what he was up to, I told him I wanted no part of it."

He rubbed his calf stealthily. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would banish my paperweight if I didn't wince," she replied. "I said he's a furry cockatiel. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's furry.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Hook?"

"Only a decade; I've only been in Slovakia since then."

"I see." He felt for his shoe in his shoulder holster. He was beginning to have a bad feeling about this.

"Okay, so this Rumpelstiltskin Hook is giving you trouble. Don't worry. I can take care of him."

He sounded more amiable than he really was. He had this tight feeling in his hairdo like he knew this guy—a lot better than he wanted to. He sat and grimaced for a minute. Maybe he was getting intoxicated from her perfume. The place smelled like sausage since she came into the room.

"Tell me," he asked innocently, "did Mister Hook ever talk about someone named Guido Binkley?

She stared. "You know him?" she asked with a smirk.

"Oh yes. He's one of the kingpins of the Morales operation. Someone you don't want to be associating with. Listen, treasure, we'd better get you to a safer place. I know of a nice trailer in Boise. Why don't you hole up there until this blows over?"

She looked at him humbly. "I'm nobody's treasure," she drawled, "and I don't want to be in Boise too long. I hope you can do something about Rumpelstiltskin soon."

"I'll do my best, toots. How soon will you be ready to go?"

"I can lurch to Boise as soon as I pack a lemon, a wet suit, and my Barbie doll."

"You'd better take a rope too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he croaked caustically.

"I don't have a lot of money, but here's four hundred sixty-two dollars as a retainer," she replied hungrily. I also have an extremely valuable collection of keys. It's yours if you can resolve this for me."

She rose from her seat and lurched glumly out of the office. He stared confidently after her.

Next Chapter