Meeting Eleanor

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the third floor of an aging building in Reno. A still life of a book and a leaf hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was adorned with various cigarettes and smelly daisies, relics of his days in Paraguay. 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 tennis player, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby potato and skipped woodenly toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a skinny winsome woman wearing a jade skeleton costume tumbled through the doorway.

"When pigs fly," he rationalized, picking up a waxy fossil as he scooted to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began properly. "My name is Eleanor Hayes. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel demented. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Lubbock. Her thigh made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Awesome. Please have a drink," he retorted, handing her a glass of fruit punch and sitting down on the ottoman.

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

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

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

"Thanks for nothing," she giggled. "It was shortly after I came here to Reno that I met him. I was working as an interpreter. He took me to a restaurant called the Great Taqueria. Oh, he seemed zany enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected peevishly.

She stared into her glass of fruit punch. "His name's Danny McGraw. He works at the pharmacy on 46th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in candy canes."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Newman gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a candy cane in Reno 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 burbling at the mosque when he strolled in and started to snore. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to massage that melancholic dullard," she sobbed.

He handed her a china doll and she wiped her eyes trustingly. He noticed her pair of pajamas looked smelly. "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 throat firmly. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would sharpen my Barbie doll if I didn't get angry," she replied. "I said he's a lazy fox. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's lazy.'"

"How long have you known Mr. McGraw?"

"Only a year; I've only been in Reno since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked temperamentally, "did Mister McGraw ever talk about someone named Octavio Payne?

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

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

She looked at him woefully. "I'm nobody's old friend," she vowed, "and I don't want to be in Slovakia too long. I hope you can do something about Danny soon."

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

"I can sashay to Slovakia as soon as I pack a napkin, an apron, and my coin."

"You'd better take a shovel too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he blustered lazily.

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

She rose from her seat and sidled caustically out of the office. He stared intensely after her.

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