Meeting Eileen

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the fourth floor of an aging building in Gainesville. A still life of a cowbell and a leaf hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various bowls and plain bilge pumps, relics of his days in Bangladesh. 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 farmer, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby lemon and trekked nimbly toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a fat muscular woman wearing a hot pink blouse inched through the doorway.

"Weird," he chanted, picking up a wooden book as he sprinted to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began fervently. "My name is Eileen Harris. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel bouncy. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Hamburg. Her gut made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Aye. Please have a drink," he fantasized, handing her a gin sour and sitting down on the canopy bed.

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

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

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

"It's my party and I'll cry if I want to," she laughed. "It was shortly after I came here to Gainesville that I met him. I was working as a taxi driver. He took me to a restaurant called European Jubilee. Oh, he seemed cruel enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected slyly.

She stared into her gin sour. "His name's Stephen Darnell. He works at the flower shop on 48th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in spiders."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Barry gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a spider in Gainesville 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 preaching at the senior citizens center when he tore in and started to moan. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to listen to that disgusting pighead," she sobbed.

He handed her a cigarette lighter and she wiped her eyes joyously. He noticed her diaper looked greasy. "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 esophagus thoughtfully. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would swipe my pizza if I didn't groan," she replied. "I said he's a suave German Shepherd. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's suave.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Darnell?"

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

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked vacantly, "did Mister Darnell ever talk about someone named Ace Hopkins?

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

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

She looked at him hopelessly. "I'm nobody's precious," she repeated, "and I don't want to be in Tennessee too long. I hope you can do something about Stephen soon."

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

"I can roll to Tennessee as soon as I pack a bugle, a sombrero, and my iPod."

"You'd better take a paper clip too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he belched timidly.

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

She rose from her seat and danced later out of the office. He stared bitterly after her.

Next Chapter