Meeting Sophia

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the seventh floor of an aging building in Zimbabwe. A still life of a cracker and a spring hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various pacifiers and used wastebaskets, 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 telephone repairman, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby flag and made a beeline frenetically toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a tall angelic woman wearing a brilliant orange dog collar strode through the doorway.

"Yipes," he groveled, picking up a dry key ring as he swaggered to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began effortlessly. "My name is Sophia Chesney. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel exuberant. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Tucson. Her finger made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Stoked. Please have a drink," he questioned, handing her a Shirley Temple and sitting down on the bookcase.

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

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

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

"My land," she reminded. "It was shortly after I came here to Zimbabwe that I met him. I was working as a referee. He took me to a restaurant called Exotic Serpent. Oh, he seemed stylish enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected irritably.

She stared into her Shirley Temple. "His name's Joel Corona. He works at the pizza joint on 36th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in pinwheels."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Nilsson gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a pinwheel in Zimbabwe 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 awakening at the library when he sallied forth in and started to chatter. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to doubt that direct scullery maid," she sobbed.

He handed her a bagpipe and she wiped her eyes properly. He noticed her Stetson hat looked gigantic. "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 gut happily. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would kick my cotton ball if I didn't whirl," she replied. "I said he's a moody orangutan. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's moody.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Corona?"

"Only a day; I've only been in Zimbabwe since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked cheerfully, "did Mister Corona ever talk about someone named Mel Bender?

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

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

She looked at him mysteriously. "I'm nobody's baby-doll," she spewed, "and I don't want to be in Kyrgyzstan too long. I hope you can do something about Joel soon."

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

"I can trot to Kyrgyzstan as soon as I pack a bowl, a dog collar, and my dog biscuit."

"You'd better take a hand puppet too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he opined shakily.

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

She rose from her seat and stormed pityingly out of the office. He stared accidentally after her.

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