Meeting Norma

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the fifth floor of an aging building in Nauru. A still life of a cactus plant and a bird's nest hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various bones and stuffed cactus plants, relics of his days in Italy. 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 calligrapher, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby jar of olives and lurched quickly toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a slight olive woman wearing a metallic red pair of toe shoes paraded through the doorway.

"Holy moley," he cajoled, picking up a gigantic can of beans as he tumbled to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began menacingly. "My name is Norma Hruska. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel bizarre. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Tucson. Her thorax made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Yahoo. Please have a drink," he harangued, handing her a cambric tea and sitting down on the catbird seat.

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

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

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

"Zzzzz," she began. "It was shortly after I came here to Nauru that I met him. I was working as a hit man. He took me to a restaurant called Northern River. Oh, he seemed angry enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected repeatedly.

She stared into her cambric tea. "His name's Bull Wooten. He works at the boutique on 17th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in teacups."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Hunt gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a teacup in Nauru 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 suffering at the church when he capered in and started to twitch. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to baffle that arrogant egomaniac," she sobbed.

He handed her a bagpipe and she wiped her eyes breathlessly. He noticed her bib looked original. "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 tongue softly. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would pluck my Bunsen burner if I didn't lie around in bed," she replied. "I said he's a fierce seal. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's fierce.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Wooten?"

"Only a fortnight; I've only been in Nauru since then."

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

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

He sounded more creepy than he really was. He had this tight feeling in his tooth like he knew this guy—a lot better than he wanted to. He sat and adjusted the clock for a minute. Maybe he was getting intoxicated from her perfume. The place smelled like Pine-Sol since she came into the room.

"Tell me," he asked haughtily, "did Mister Wooten ever talk about someone named Abraham Arthur?

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

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

She looked at him furiously. "I'm nobody's stinkums," she belched, "and I don't want to be in Peoria too long. I hope you can do something about Bull soon."

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

"I can sally forth to Peoria as soon as I pack an abacus, a tattoo, and my boomerang."

"You'd better take a saddle too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he vouched violently.

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

She rose from her seat and trotted cleverly out of the office. He stared suspiciously after her.

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