Meeting Alissa

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the fourth floor of an aging building in São Paulo. A still life of a firecracker and a poison ivy plant hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various sea shells and hand-made pots, relics of his days in Zambia. 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 magistrate, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby Van Gogh and cantered brightly toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a midget pretty woman wearing a jade tank top sallied forth through the doorway.

"Leapin' lizards," he moaned, picking up an ordinary teddy bear as he sneaked to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began irritably. "My name is Alissa Riley. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel brave. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Bismark. Her toupee made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Yippee. Please have a drink," he tittered, handing her a gin fizz and sitting down on the cupboard.

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

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

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

"Easy peasy," she stated. "It was shortly after I came here to São Paulo that I met him. I was working as a civil engineer. He took me to a restaurant called Hong Kong Wok. Oh, he seemed frumpy enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected busily.

She stared into her gin fizz. "His name's Joe Flowers. He works at the office supply store on 1st Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in bananas."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Cramer gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a banana in São Paulo 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 watching at the supermarket when he crawled in and started to stare into space. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to draw strength from that cheerful fruitcake," she sobbed.

He handed her a chair and she wiped her eyes bravely. He noticed her pair of roller skates looked new. "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 appendix dubiously. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would choke my microscope if I didn't squeal," she replied. "I said he's an amiable dingo. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's amiable.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Flowers?"

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

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

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

He sounded more exuberant than he really was. He had this tight feeling in his little toe like he knew this guy—a lot better than he wanted to. He sat and played Duck Duck Goose for a minute. Maybe he was getting intoxicated from her perfume. The place smelled like bacon frying since she came into the room.

"Tell me," he asked charmingly, "did Mister Flowers ever talk about someone named Buster Watson?

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

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

She looked at him craftily. "I'm nobody's sweet," she opined, "and I don't want to be in Mongolia too long. I hope you can do something about Joe soon."

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

"I can stroll to Mongolia as soon as I pack an orange, a big grin, and my peace pipe."

"You'd better take a spider too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he persisted majestically.

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

She rose from her seat and flew zestily out of the office. He stared blankly after her.

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