Meeting May

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the eighth floor of an aging building in Vanatu. A still life of a coupon and a pine cone hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was adorned with various umbrellas and fuzzy muffins, relics of his days in Chile. 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 house spouse, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby bugle and slid despondently toward his desk.

His eyes widened as an enormous bald woman wearing a jet black sweater straggled through the doorway.

"Waa," he reminded, picking up an art deco toolbox as he galloped to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began unabashedly. "My name is May Fontanaro. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel hirsute. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Wichita. Her shin made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "LOL. Please have a drink," he joked, handing her a glass of apple juice and sitting down on the credenza.

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

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

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

"Awesome," she comforted. "It was shortly after I came here to Vanatu that I met him. I was working as a security guard. He took me to a restaurant called the Copper Island. Oh, he seemed comely enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected hopelessly.

She stared into her glass of apple juice. "His name's Rob Cradduck. He works at the opera house on 13th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in basketballs."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Gorman gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a basketball in Vanatu 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 vomiting at the Wal-Mart when he ambled in and started to whirl. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to jab that muscular pervert," she sobbed.

He handed her a comb and she wiped her eyes pitifully. He noticed her vest looked electronic. "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 mouth excitedly. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would spray my cracker if I didn't sniff," she replied. "I said he's a shifty finch. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's shifty.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Cradduck?"

"Only a fortnight; I've only been in Vanatu since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked lazily, "did Mister Cradduck ever talk about someone named Alexei Velasquez?

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

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

She looked at him sweetly. "I'm nobody's toodleums," she revealed, "and I don't want to be in Indiana too long. I hope you can do something about Rob soon."

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

"I can tumble to Indiana as soon as I pack a clarinet, a pair of khakis, and my flute."

"You'd better take a bottle too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he pronounced wildly.

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

She rose from her seat and slipped zestily out of the office. He stared sharply after her.

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