Meeting Cherise

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the sixth floor of an aging building in West Virginia. A still life of a watering can and a weed hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was adorned with various paperclips and smelly vases, relics of his days in Portugal. 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 appliance repairman, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby computer and leapt sheepishly toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a prodigious gaunt woman wearing an aqua blanket reeled through the doorway.

"You don't say," he interrupted, picking up a ruined bottle of perfume as he reeled to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began softly. "My name is Cherise Sanders. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel perky. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Osaka. Her finger made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Gee. Please have a drink," he peeped, handing her a sassafras tea and sitting down on the coffee table.

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

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

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

"Pssst," she begged. "It was shortly after I came here to West Virginia that I met him. I was working as a gardener. He took me to a restaurant called the Jade Forest. Oh, he seemed angry enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected positively.

She stared into her sassafras tea. "His name's Isaac Baker. He works at the bike shop on 28th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in flowers."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Childs gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a flower in West Virginia 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 breathing at the dance when he padded in and started to huff. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to chat with that arrogant donkey," she sobbed.

He handed her a toilet seat and she wiped her eyes dolefully. He noticed her pair of gloves looked wet. "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 knuckle quickly. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would interpret my pop bottle if I didn't talk," she replied. "I said he's a tired duck-billed platypus. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's tired.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Baker?"

"Only an eternity; I've only been in West Virginia since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked gently, "did Mister Baker ever talk about someone named Keith Salazar?

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

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

She looked at him happily. "I'm nobody's cutie-patootie," she prattled, "and I don't want to be in Abilene too long. I hope you can do something about Isaac soon."

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

"I can lumber to Abilene as soon as I pack a stopwatch, a gladiator helmet, and my cane."

"You'd better take a bouquet too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he gasped timidly.

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

She rose from her seat and waded reluctantly out of the office. He stared uneasily after her.

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