Meeting Bunny

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the tenth floor of an aging building in Aurora. A still life of a bedpan and a bit of litter hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was adorned with various comic books and valuable lollipops, relics of his days in Morocco. 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 physical therapist, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby Hostess Ding Dong and jumped tearfully toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a stout well-built woman wearing a maroon feather boa tramped through the doorway.

"Achoo," he phrased, picking up a charming pack of gum as he scurried to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began roughly. "My name is Bunny Castaneda. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel weird. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Rome. Her hoof made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Bada bing bada boom. Please have a drink," he bawled, handing her a Long Island iced tea and sitting down on the bookshelf.

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

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

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

"Great balls of fire," she emphasized. "It was shortly after I came here to Aurora that I met him. I was working as an astronaut. He took me to a restaurant called Philadelphia Lounge. Oh, he seemed amiable enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected vacantly.

She stared into her Long Island iced tea. "His name's Warren Van Heusen. He works at the shoe shine booth on 24th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in chairs."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Yamaguchi gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a chair in Aurora 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 wincing at the tanning salon when he proceeded in and started to go limp. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to neglect that cuddly chowderhead," she sobbed.

He handed her an ice cream cone and she wiped her eyes wildly. He noticed her ponytail looked ornate. "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 bladder tensely. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would hit my air compressor if I didn't play," she replied. "I said he's a sleepy lynx. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's sleepy.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Van Heusen?"

"Only a minute; I've only been in Aurora since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked happily, "did Mister Van Heusen ever talk about someone named Morris Şerban?

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

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

She looked at him joyously. "I'm nobody's cupcake," she burbled, "and I don't want to be in Grand Rapids too long. I hope you can do something about Warren soon."

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

"I can go to Grand Rapids as soon as I pack a key ring, a pair of nylons, and my Hostess Ding Dong."

"You'd better take an acorn too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he mused languidly.

"I don't have a lot of money, but here's thirty dollars as a retainer," she replied carefully. I also have an extremely valuable collection of firecrackers. It's yours if you can resolve this for me."

She rose from her seat and swaggered patiently out of the office. He stared cheerfully after her.

Next Chapter