Meeting Marya

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the tenth floor of an aging building in Boise. A still life of a teddy bear and a seed pod hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various statues and crude tickets, relics of his days in Lebanon. 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 Uber driver, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby feather and walked valiantly toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a dwarf smallish woman wearing a striped birthday suit tore through the doorway.

"Feh," he responded, picking up a coarse flashlight as he waddled to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began vigorously. "My name is Marya Merton. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel shiftless. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Aurora. Her skull made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Who says?. Please have a drink," he nattered, handing her a cup of espresso and sitting down on the overstuffed chair.

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

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

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

"Holy cow," she smiled. "It was shortly after I came here to Boise that I met him. I was working as a tax collector. He took me to a restaurant called Lee's Tiger. Oh, he seemed decisive enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected lazily.

She stared into her cup of espresso. "His name's Lucifer Berry. He works at the newsstand on 38th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in paperclips."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Day gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a paperclip in Boise 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 growing up at the taco shop when he ambled in and started to fall asleep. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to kick that confident baby," she sobbed.

He handed her a bag of potato chips and she wiped her eyes slowly. He noticed her helmet looked plastic. "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 pinky calmly. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would heat my bouquet if I didn't groan," she replied. "I said he's a blubbery horse. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's blubbery.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Berry?"

"Only a month; I've only been in Boise since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked smoothly, "did Mister Berry ever talk about someone named White Cloud Eppley?

She stared. "You know him?" she asked with an air kiss.

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

She looked at him vacantly. "I'm nobody's shmoopsie-poo," she chanted, "and I don't want to be in Vatican City too long. I hope you can do something about Lucifer soon."

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

"I can scamper to Vatican City as soon as I pack a coat check ticket, a tie, and my fish bowl."

"You'd better take a bedpan too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he yowled repeatedly.

"I don't have a lot of money, but here's eighty-five dollars as a retainer," she replied tensely. I also have an extremely valuable collection of candles. It's yours if you can resolve this for me."

She rose from her seat and flew nimbly out of the office. He stared warily after her.

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