Meeting Christine

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the ninth floor of an aging building in Abilene. A still life of an iPhone and an apple tree hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was adorned with various bags of popcorn and fancy cotton balls, relics of his days in Lithuania. 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 network administrator, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby piece of candy and waddled grudgingly toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a stumpy homely woman wearing a tan wizard's hat zipped through the doorway.

"Hell's bells," he chimed, picking up a porcelain paper bag as he whirled to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began nicely. "My name is Christine Bristol. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel impish. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Riverside. Her larynx made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Ho ho. Please have a drink," he squawked, handing her a glass of champagne and sitting down on the dishwasher.

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

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

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

"Zap," she decided. "It was shortly after I came here to Abilene that I met him. I was working as an entomologist. He took me to a restaurant called the Yellow Platter. Oh, he seemed fashionable enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected fondly.

She stared into her glass of champagne. "His name's Boots Yager. He works at the art museum on 34th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in Band-aids."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Remington gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a Band-aid in Abilene 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 partying at the senior citizens center when he sped in and started to deal cards. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to manipulate that furious bonehead," she sobbed.

He handed her a can of soup and she wiped her eyes busily. He noticed her Panama hat looked heavy. "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 immediately. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would seal my blanket if I didn't bark," she replied. "I said he's an obnoxious goose. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's obnoxious.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Yager?"

"Only an hour; I've only been in Abilene since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked urgently, "did Mister Yager ever talk about someone named Harold Valentine?

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

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

She looked at him hastily. "I'm nobody's light of my life," she snorted, "and I don't want to be in Lansing too long. I hope you can do something about Boots soon."

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

"I can trek to Lansing as soon as I pack a bird feeder, a nose ring, and my elephant tusk."

"You'd better take a Lego set too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he lamented haughtily.

"I don't have a lot of money, but here's one hundred twenty-nine dollars as a retainer," she replied admiringly. I also have an extremely valuable collection of primroses. It's yours if you can resolve this for me."

She rose from her seat and ran crazily out of the office. He stared deftly after her.

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