Meeting Seema

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the tenth floor of an aging building in South Africa. A still life of a teacup and a piece of bark hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various notebooks and slimy boxes of candy, relics of his days in Jordan. 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 delivery driver, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby stuffed bunny and struggled deftly toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a skinny short woman wearing a metallic red bonnet blundered through the doorway.

"Godspeed," he instructed, picking up a gooey air compressor as he darted to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began blissfully. "My name is Seema Rawlings. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel gregarious. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Tulsa. Her hip made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Get out. Please have a drink," he sniffed, handing her a margarita and sitting down on the four-poster bed.

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

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

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

"Jeepers," she announced. "It was shortly after I came here to South Africa that I met him. I was working as a coin collector. He took me to a restaurant called the Yummy Social Club. Oh, he seemed cocky enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected hopefully.

She stared into her margarita. "His name's Kelly Harper. He works at the McDonalds on 28th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in lightsabers."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Flowers gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a lightsaber in South Africa 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 snoring at the church when he breezed in and started to applaud. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to text that weary tattletale," she sobbed.

He handed her a whoopee cushion and she wiped her eyes noisily. He noticed her G-string looked bizarre. "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 wig coldly. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would observe my carrot if I didn't whistle," she replied. "I said he's a high-strung bear. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's high-strung.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Harper?"

"Only a blink of an eye; I've only been in South Africa since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked timidly, "did Mister Harper ever talk about someone named Abe Palomino?

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

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

She looked at him nonchalantly. "I'm nobody's Boopsie," she boasted, "and I don't want to be in the Virgin Islands too long. I hope you can do something about Kelly soon."

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

"I can lope to the Virgin Islands as soon as I pack a bowling ball, a bandana, and my tissue."

"You'd better take a tube of toothpaste too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he brought up steadily.

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

She rose from her seat and scooted quickly out of the office. He stared timidly after her.

Next Chapter