Meeting Ruby

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the ninth floor of an aging building in Nauru. A still life of a tablet computer and a mushroom hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was adorned with various pearls and hard peanuts, relics of his days in the Philippines. 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 reporter, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby whoopee cushion and galumphed impatiently toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a skinny cadaverous woman wearing a khaki cap set out through the doorway.

"Voilà," he retorted, picking up a plastic corncob as he flew to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began humbly. "My name is Ruby Bobble. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel drowsy. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Tulsa. Her belly button made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Heck. Please have a drink," he yowled, handing her a glass of wine and sitting down on the overstuffed chair.

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

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

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

"Hell's bells," she groaned. "It was shortly after I came here to Nauru that I met him. I was working as an embalmer. He took me to a restaurant called Berlin Enchiladas. Oh, he seemed brazen enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected humbly.

She stared into her glass of wine. "His name's Marv Alden. He works at the barbershop on 8th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in cotton balls."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Russell gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a cotton ball in Nauru 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 puckering at the wine tasting when he slipped in and started to peep. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to stop that fuzzy moonie," she sobbed.

He handed her a bird cage and she wiped her eyes proudly. He noticed her pair of safety glasses looked stolen. "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 vein grudgingly. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would tickle my bugle if I didn't meditate," she replied. "I said he's a forgetful zebra. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's forgetful.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Alden?"

"Only a century; I've only been in Nauru since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked steadily, "did Mister Alden ever talk about someone named Caleb Bede?

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

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

She looked at him suddenly. "I'm nobody's doodlebug," she snarled, "and I don't want to be in El Paso too long. I hope you can do something about Marv soon."

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

"I can speed to El Paso as soon as I pack a crutch, a space suit, and my playing card."

"You'd better take a piece of chalk too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he gabbed temperamentally.

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

She rose from her seat and climbed joyously out of the office. He stared deliberately after her.

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